The life and character of Miss Susanna Anthony, who died, in Newport, (R.I.) June 23, MDCCXCI, in the sixty fifth year of her age. : Consisting chiefly in extracts from her writings, with some brief observations on them. / Compiled by Samuel Hopkins, D.D. Pastor of the First Congregational Church in Newport.

THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF MISS SUSANNA ANTHONY.

SECTION I.

A general sketch of her life and character; as an intro|duction to a more particular account taken from her own writings.

MISS Susanna Anthony, was born at Newport, on Rhodeisland, on the 25th day of October, 1726. Mr. Isaac Anthony, her father, was a native of Rhodeisland. When he was young, he went to Boston to learn the trade of a goldsmith. There he became acquainted with Miss Mercy Chamberlin, whom he afterwards married, and settled in Newport, where they lived about sixty years together. They had seven daughters, five of whom survived their parents, but no son. Susanna, who was their youngest daughter except one, lived with her parents until they died, which was be|tween forty and fifty years: She was never married. Her parents were of the denomination called Friends,

or Quakers, in which way she was educated, until she was about fifteen years old, when she was the subject of a series of remarkable exercises, of which she has given a particular account; which will be inserted in the next section, together with her making a publick profession of religion, and joining to the first congregational church in Newport, of which the Rev, Nathaniel Clap was then pastor; where she continued a member, until her death, which was nearly fifty years; and was a dis|tinguished and eminent instance of piety and strict re|ligion, in every branch of the duties of Christianity, so far as they could be exercised, acted out, and discover|ed, in her situation and circumstances in life. She ap|peared wholly, and in a distinguished degree, devoted to the cause of Christ and pure religion; and was a re|markable example of devotion, benevolence, and christ|ian friendship; of self-denial, sobriety, modesty, humil|ity, industry, and of a careful circumspection and con|scientiousness in all her concerns and conduct. She be|ing greatly attentive to her Bible, and all other means of instruction, which she enjoyed, attained an eminent degree of discerning and knowledge of the distinguish|ing doctrines and duties of Christianity. And, as she was greatly attentive to practical religion, and con|stantly studied the Bible in this view, always exercis|ing herself to have a conscience void of offence, both towards God and man, she was remarkably judicious, as a casuist, and greatly helpful to her friends, who ap|plied to her in doubtful and difficult cases of con|science. All this will be better and more particularly exhibited by the extracts from her writings, which will be produced in the following sections: But cannot, even in this way, be fully expressed, or set in that clear, affecting, and amiable light, before the public, in which she was seen, loved, and admired, by her partic|ular and intimate to friends.

Her bodily frame and constitution was so feeble and delicate, from her youth, that she was not equal to any business, which required a considerable degree of strength and exertion. She was, therefore, chiefly em|ployed in the use of her needle, in which she was ex|pert

and skilful, and by which she was able to support herself, when she enjoyed her health▪ of which she was deprived for a number of years, from about the twentieth year of her age, and fell into very painful and distress|ing disorders of body; so that she appeared to herself and others, many times, to be dying, or near to death; and her physician and friends thought she could not survive her disorders, which attended her several years, excepting some short intervals of respite. This is men|tioned here, as it may render some part of her diary, which will be transcribed, more intelligible to the read|er. But she was, in a great measure, relieved from these distressing disorders, and enjoyed a degree of ease and health in the latter part of her life; though she was always feeble, and subject to turns of painful mal|adies.

When the war, between Britain and America, com|menced, she left Newport, and went into the country, where she spent great part of her time until that war was nearly closed; part of which time she spent in teaching the children in the families in which she lived, and in keeping a small school; in which she appeared to be greatly serviceable, and obtained the approbation, grat|itude, and esteem, of those who employed her.

After the war, she lived at Newport to the time of her decease, a comfort, and greatly useful to her friends, earnestly endeavouring▪ in her sphere, to promote the cause of truth and Christianity in the world, and more especially in the religious society with which she was connected: to whom her death is justly considered as an unspeakable loss. But, with respect to the people in general, the words of the Prophet may be applied, in this instance: "The righteous perisheth, and no man layeth it to heart; the merciful are taken away none considering that the righteous is taken away from the evil to come."

In the month of June, 1791, her youngest sister was taken sick with a peripneumony: And as she had but one more sister then living, who was out of town, she 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and 〈◊〉〈◊〉 her in her sickness, which proved 〈…〉〈…〉 she died in about a week. On the day in

which her sister died, she was seized with the same dis|order, which put an end to her life also in one week. The disorder, with which she died, was violent, from first to last, and uncommonly distressing; so that she was not able to say much in this her last sickness. She, however, said to her christain friends, that she desir|ed to bless God, that she had nothing of those conflicts, which she had before sometimes feared; but her soul did, with a sweet calm and confidence▪ rest on Jesus Christ, without the least doubt of her union to him, and of her happiness in his kingdom forever. Thus she died, on the 23d of June, 1791.

AFTER she had made a publick profession of relig|ion, she felt a strong desire to serve Christ, in an entire and constant devotedness to him, in promoting his in|terest and kingdom, the good of his people, and the sal|vation of men. This led her seriously to consider in what way, and by what means, she, in her situation, and circumstances, could best answer these ends. She was a poor, obscure person, and had no prospect of ob|taining much of the things of this world, so as to do much good by supporting the gospel or distributing to the relief of the indigent. She did not expect to rise into general repute, or to any publick station, by which she could have opportunity of extensive influence: And her natural capacity she considered as small, and she was destitute of the advantages of education, which many had.

After a careful and conscientious attention to this sub|ject, and much earnest prayer for direction, daily crying to God, in the language of Saul, when he was convert|ed, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?" she was led to conclude that she could serve the interest of Christ, and of his church, and promote the good of her fellow men, more, by devoting herself to prayer, than in any other way, of which she was capable. And as, in her circumstances, she was in a great measure free from domestic cares, and had opportunity to spend much

time in retirement, she thought it was her duty to de|vote as much time as could be spared from her partic|ular employment, and necessary avocations, in prayer not only for herself, and all her particular friends and near connections; but more especially for the prosper|ity of the church of Christ, and the advancement of his kingdom in the world, until all nations, Jews and Gentiles, should be converted, and brought into it; in which, prayer for the ministers of the gospel was in|cluded, that they might be filled with the spirit of Christ, and abundantly assisted and succeeded; and that the head of the church, and Lord of the harvest, would raise up and send forth faithful labourers into his har|vest,&c.

For this exercise, she frequently set a part whole days, when her circumstances would admit of it, and especially when there appeared to her to be a particu|ular call for prayer; and spent them in secret fasting and prayer. And she used to spend the afternoon and evening of the last day of the week in this exercise, when not prevented by some uncommon circumstance; also the morning of the Sabbath.

Before she was sixteen years old, she joined a socie|ty of women, who met once every week, for prayer, reading, and religious conversation; and who devoted the afternoon, once in a month, to this exercise; and spent at least, four whole days in a year, in fasting and prayer together. Of this society she was a distinguish|ed member, as long as she lived; by whom she was greatly beloved and esteemed; and they received much comfort and edification from her conversation and prayers. In the latter, especially, she was distinguished|ly eminent; and, at particular times▪ had such enlarge|ment and access to the throne of grace, that she would pray an hour and an half, or more, with such engag|edness and fervency, without any repetition, with a flow of words expressing the most pertinent and affect|ing ideas, and with such a natural connection, and pro|gression from one to another, that none who joined with her would appear to be tired, but all pleased, af|fected and edified; And felt a consciousness that none

could have an adequate idea of what passed at such times, who were not present, as a full description of the holy fervour, the clear view of invisible things, and that nearness to God, while she poured out her heart before him, which she discovered, cannot he made by any narration of them.

In the practice of this important duty, she excelled most christains, and in an eminent degree conformed to the following apostolic injunction: "Praying always with all prayer, and supplication in the spirit, and watching thereunto with all perseverance, and suppli|cation for all saints; and for me." for the ministers of the gospel, in particular. And she had many remark|able answers to her prayers; many instances of which she has recorded in her diary. Some of which will be transcribed from her private writings; and the whole that has been mentioned under this head will be there|by in some measure illustrated. Particularly by the following, which may most properly be inserted here.

The first is dated June 27, 1749, which was in the twenty third year of her age.

"Now would I adore God. Marvellous are thy works, Lord God Almighty! I have renewed occasion to praise thee, and to live devoted to thy service and glory. And now determine, the few remaining days of my life, through thy grace assisting, shall be renew|edly devoted to thee.

"In the year 1744, in September,* 1.1I came to a fix|ed resolution to spend some days in a year to seek God's favour to a miserable world; for the bringing in of the Jews and Gentiles, and the advancement of the kingdom of Christ in the world. And likewise some time of one day in every week, to pray for the ministers of the gospel, and the whole church of God, militant. Besides other days of fasting and prayer, which I kept more especially for my own soul, I de|termined not to forget them.

"And I remember my soul followed hard after God, day and night, that the gospel might reach the utmost ends of the earth, in its saving power and efficacy on

the souls of men; entreating that God would stir up bowels of compassion in his ministers and children, to unite their address to him, on this account. Nor can I ever forget what access God condescended to grant me, in pleading that the Holy Spirit might be poured out on his children, that they might not cease to wres|tle and cry mightily to God, until he make Jerusalem a praise in the whole earth.

"And I have now met with an account, which came from Scotland, that in the same year, in November, they came to a united agreement to spend the first Tuesday in each quarter of the year; and some part of Saturday night, and Sabbath day morning, in this ex|ercise. Which account or desire, I never met with until very lately: Nor had I ever heard of such a thing being thought of. Which makes me conclude the mo|tion came from the Spirit of God; and the agreement was in answer to prayer."

The following, which is found in her diary, dated March 28, 1754, relates to the same subject; and shows that she continued in this resolution and practice.

"Lord, thou hast the residue of the spirit. O, pour it out upon a sinking world. Where, O, where is the Lord God of Elijah? And where his promises? Art not thou he? And wilt thou not arise? O strengthen my faith, and enable me to wrestle, day and night, for the good of thy chosen. O Lord, Jehovah, pour out thy Spirit on me, and on all thy people. Let thy Spirit fit me for the work, and I will devote my life to the duty of prayer and supplication for all men. O, accept of this recovery of health, which I devote to this exercise. Only do thou, Lord, qualify me for the sac|red, solemn exercise, and I disiniss every other scheme or project, and make this the grand pursuit of my life▪ O assist me, or I retract. For I cannot persist without thee. For I should surely bring on myself a tiresome burden. I should either faint, and drop the purpose; or lengthen out a formal, lifeless duty, neither pleasing to myself, nor for the glory of God, or the good of others.

"But, if this purpose be good in thy sight, O, pour out thy spirit and grace for this end: And then, Lord,

behold, here I am▪ I allow no reserse. Furnish my mind with arguments; raise my soul with desire; and let faith and hope animate my heart. O God, if thou wilt accept me, in this way, by thus qualifying me for it, thou, Lord, shalt have the glory. But, O, suffer me not to attempt in my own strength. Lord, empty me of self. I desire to seek and serve thee; yet I fear offering strange fire; or, with hastly Uzzah, unpre|paredly, or uncommissioned, to touch the sacred ark. I know thou callest upon thy saints to cry mightily to thee, until thou makest Zion the praise of the whole earth: And throughout thy word art encouraging and exciting thy people to wrestle with thee, in prayer, for the glorious day of thy power, when all iniquity shall stop her mouth, and the dear Redeemer's kingdom shall spread far and wide. O, do thou prepare thy|self a sacrifice, and accept it, through thy dear Son.

"Blessed be God for any assistance. Lord, my soul longeth for thy salvation. O, when shall I see the good of thy chosen! O, how sweet, to think of being at one and the same instant united in spirit, lifting up holy hands without wrath or doubting, for one and the same cause and interest, with many of thy dear saints: And the divine Spirit cementing us together, in the love of Chirst and one another!"

The following is an extract from a letter, dated Nov. 27, 1769, written above twenty years after the forego|ing, on the same subject, to a particular friend of hers. By which it will appear how conscientious she was in this matter; and what fears she sometimes had, that she had engaged in this business, and prosecuted it with so much labour and so many conflicts, from pride, or something wrong in her, which brought great perplex|ity and distress on her mind, in which the accuser of the brethren, the temper, no doubt, had a great hand.

"I had a very strong inclination to write to you last week: But I dare not. I was even ashamed to see you, or open my mouth before you, under my pressures of mind. The case is this, dear Sir, which I now take the liberty to mention.

"After I had publicly given myself up to God, and commenced a member of Zion, I felt some disposi|tion to study what I should render to the Lord for all his benefits; and how I could, in my low and private capacity, best promote his interest, and serve the church of Christ. Prayer and supplication appeared the only, or chief way; as good in that way might come more pure and unsullied. Accordingly, I devoted myself to the service of the sanctuary, in this way, if God would but accept and assist me herein; though I should be but as a burdenbearer. And herein; though I should be but as a burdenbearer. And herein I thought my eyes were not lofty, or my heart haughty; neither would it be to exercise myself in things too high for me; encour|aged by the gracious acceptance of the offerings of wo|men in the tabernacle service.

"And herein, I thought, God did graciously conde|scend to assist and bless me, and repeatedly dispose me to devote myself to the cause, in this way; making it a powerful motive to cleanse myself from all filthiness of flesh and spirit. But I soon found great conflicts; and it has often been suggested to my mind, that I should never have any rest, so long as I persisted in this way. However, I though, from a sincere desire for the glory of God, and the good of his church and peo|ple, I could cheerfully submit to an afflicted and con|flicting life, if I might be assisted and accepted herein. But sometimes, last week in particular, under a sense of the violent efforts of the powers of darkness, my own extreme vileness and weakness, as tow before the flames, or as a leaf shaken by the wind, I am fearing wheth|er it was not from the pride and naughtinness of my heart, that I submitted to conflicts. Whether it was not like the aspiring disciples, when Christ asked them, Are ye able to drink of the cup, &c.? I had, through pride and arrogance, been saying, I am able.

"Under these views of myself, I have been much dejected, afraid to move or stir. And now, my dear Sir, if you have the least suspicion, at any time, of my acting from this hateful, detestable principle, pray speak freely and plainly. For, though I think my heart does not condemn me, as being wholly under its reign|ing

power; yet I find it still works, to bring forth fruit unto death. I think, if I know any thing about myself, I have been, and am devoted to God; all I am, have, or can be, and do, to his glory: And that my own comfort and happiness, is no farther so to me, than as it promotes that: And that to be a consecrated ves|sel, though of the meanest use, is my highest with, prayer and pursuit. I think I know no interest, but his. Yet, I am not with a proud presumption to touch the sacred ark, left I do it to my own confusion. I know I am to pray for the peace and prosperity of Zion; but the doubt is, whether I am called, in that particu|lar manner, to take it's concerns on me, so as to make it the business of my life; or whether to endeavour to escape with my own life, or to work out my own sal|vation, &c. is not the province God has called me to act in; so poor, so weak and polluted a worm as I am. Yet, I know I feel, whatever I am called to, I must love this Mount Zion, and must prefer the prosperity there|of above my chief joy."

The attentive, judicious reader of this, will not be at loss, it is presumed, about the answer, which she re|ceived from her friend. The invisible tempter, who hates prayer; and especially those who live most in the sincere, engaged practice of it, took advantage of her sense of her own meanness, weakness, unworthiness and depravity, to suggest that she had, in all her engag|edness in this duty, and in the manner in which she had devoted herself to it, aspired to that which did not be|come her, from the pride of her heart, aiming, hereby, to distress her, and discourage her from proceeding in this way. His hand was very apparent in these exer|cises of hers.

It will be observed, by those who shall peruse her writings, which are to be transcribed, that she consider|ed the hand of Satan to be apparent in many sugges|tions, which were made to her mind; and while she ascribed many things of this kind to him, she considered herself to be wholly to blame for every wrong volunta|ry exercise of her heart, or the least compliance with such suggestions, and as much so, as if the tempter had

no hand in them. And that this was not owing to mere fancy and superstition, or was in the least unrea|sonable, or inconsistent with the Bible, all must be sen|sible, who properly attend to the matter, and observe that the scriptures represent Satan as an adversary to all christians, a roaring lion, walking about seeking whom he may devour. And they are said, in their christian warfare, to "wrestle against principalities, against pow|ers, against the rules of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places." And are called upon to put on the whole armour of God, in or|der to withstand the wiles of the devil. And David and Peter, and many others, were assaulted and tempted by this adversary. No wonder, then, that, when this person, in her youth, was disposed to renounce the devil and his service, and turn to the Lord, and seek him with engagedness of mind, Satan should bestir him|self, and exert all his power and cunning, to deceive and destroy her, and take all the advantage he could of her youth, want of experience, and small degree of doctrinal knowledge. And it is reasonable to suppose that a person so eminently devoted to religion and prayer, in opposition to Satan and his interest, as she was in the after part of life, should be, in a peculiar manner and degree, assaulted by the wiles of the devil; especially, considering her situation and circumstances, of body and mind. They, who are most eminent in christian exercises, and constant and engaged in watching and praying, are not only exposed to opposition from Satan, in a peculiar manner; but doubtless are commonly discerning and sensible of his suggestions and assaults.

These observations have been made, supposing they may be of use to some, who may read the following sections, especially that which now offers itself to the candid reader.

SECTION II.

Containing an account of the first part of her life, writ|ten by herself, in the 28th year of her age.

"SOME observable passages in my life, especially the first seventeen years of it; which I have col|lected from some memorandums, and by the help of my memory; and now set them down, that I may with more ease peruse them. And as they are designed for my own use, I am no ways solicitous to omit any thing that may look trifling, if I think the recording it may serve to animate me, and excite that praise in my soul, which is everlastingly due to the great Author and Fin|isher of my faith. A desire to revive a sense of this in my soul has led me to review what I had formerly written; and to recollect what my memory did retain; and now to put them together, in the order of their dates, so that being in this compass, I might readily look over them, when I inclined, or needed it. And here I have begun from my early days. O, may that same Divine Spirit, which has worked all my works in me, ever excite the warmest sentiments of gratitude, love and wonder, whenever I review these records of the divine, unmerited displays of his grace!"

I WAS early taught to love, fear and serve the Lord. My dear mother took great pains to form my mind for God. And, blessed be God, who, by his Spirit, follow|ed the good advice, counsels and warnings; early con|vincing me of my sinful state, of the corrupt fountain in my soul. The first sin that I remember to have been convinced of, was pride: And this I saw to be in my heart, and from thence it had proceeded into act. I think I was then between five and six years old. And I remember I was very anxious to know whether, if I grew good then, God would forgive me: And inquired of some of my friends, as to this matter. In the gen|eral they resolved my question, and read the eighteenth

chapter of Ezekiel to me. This put me working with all my might; and keeping up good resolutions. But conviction wore off, and I remember but little of these concerns, until I was about seven or eight years old. Then conviction did revive. I saw more of the sinful|ness of my heart; but had no clear knowledge of the way of salvation by Jesus Christ. I knew Christ died for sinners; but how we became interested in his death, I was confused. I had, though young, a set of no|tions of my own, and was excessively superstitious. I worked hard. I quarrelled with the sovereignty of God. I remember, I felt my heart rise, and my enmity work|ed violently, to find there was more joy over one sin|ner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just per|sons; for I had worked up myself into such a good conceit of myself, that I really thought I was one of the just persons. O shocking ignorance and presump|tion! But God, who, I trust, was determined to bring me home, would not suffer me finally to persist in this scheme; but did multiply conviction. I forsook God, and fell into sins, and was roused again by convictions.

But, as to the particular circumstances of a change which I suppose to be about this time, I cannot remem|ber them. The most that I can remember is, that I was in great distress about my soul; that I saw the in|sufficiency of any thing I could do to save me. And, about this time, had my heart much carried out after Christ, and the way of salvation by him. And I remem|ber to have been filled with comfort and joy in religion. I should not think these things sufficient evidences that I had experienced a work of grace in my soul, had I experienced nothing more since that time: But what I trust I have since known of a work of God in my soul inclines me to think my soul was then brought home to God; that I then had true faith in God, if I now have. I can much better remember the effects, than the circumstances of these things. And they were such as these: Knowledge, faith and love, and hatred of sin.

As to my knowledge, though to this day I have rea|son to be humbled to the dust that I know no more;

and am often ready to cry out of my ignorance, that I am ignorant as a beast before the Lord. Ah! woe is me, that I know no more of God, and divine, spiritual things. Yet my knowledge, however weak, is an ev|idence to me, that God did then work a work of grace in my soul. For now I began more clearly to see my wretched state by nature and practice; my need of a Saviour, and the way of salvation by him. My mind was enlightened, and drank in many of the precious truths of the gospel, about this time. And from this time I had a clearer Knowledge of Christ as mediator▪ one chosen by the Father for sinners, than before.

As to my faith, which is an evidence of my change. After this time, which I suppose to be about the eighth or ninth year of my age, I did frequently endeavour to give myself up to God, casting all my concerns on him; embracing Christ as my only Redeemer; resting on him as my only high priest before God the Father. And though, at this age, and under some disadvantages, I had not a thorough doctrinal knowledge, which ren|ders my experiences, at this time, far less clear, than otherwise they might have been, yet the actings of my 〈◊〉〈◊〉 towards God then, appear since to me, as far as I can discern, to be the real actings of true faith.

Again, as to my love. Now was my soul taken up in admiring the glorious way of salvation by Christ. He appeared truly amiable, as the Redeemer of lost man. Nor was the Father's love less wonderful, in giving his Son to die. I can remember to have been even wrapped up in ecstasy of love and wonder. For some time my thoughts seemed only to dwell and live on the admirable views of these things. I wondered they were no more admired and spoken of by others. I loved the word of God, took great delight in reading it, and in all the exercises of religion. My greatest delight was to pour out my soul before God. I brought before him the minutest concerns of my life, and sought his direction and blessing. It was sweet to me to eye God in all I did. And God did graciously indulge my love and sincerity, (though attended with many childish weaknesses) and witnessed that he heard my

prayers. O! what enlargement did I now receive from a kind and gracious God! And how was my soul taken up in love to God and religion! And in hatred of sin! Which is another evidence. I found a hatred of all sin, as sin, as contrary to a holy God. And remem|ber to have examined myself by that mark, and found it was so, as far as I could find out; that I did hate sin, for sin's sake, and love holiness, for holiness' sake.

Thus I went on for some time, in the comforts of re|ligion, and in the practice of the duties of it, weary of the world, and longing after God; desirous of the sal|vation of others. In particular, I remember to have the soul of my youngest sister much on my heart. She was about six years and half younger than I was; and I used to put her to bed. And I made it my prac|tice, when I had done, to kneel down, undiscovered, and seek God's special blessing, and constant protection for her. O that God may fulfil my earnest requests for her.

But after some time I began to lose these good im|pressions, and get in love with childish vanities and plays. And thus my heart declined from God and duty. Yet, forever blessed be God, who did not suffer me wholly to lose these religious impressions: But fol|lowed me with his Spirit, though I strove to disregard him, and follow my sports and plays, for which my mother reproved me; and I resolved against them; yet fell again. And thus I continued, often afraid and ashamed to pray, until forced to it by some distressing providence: And then I would continue steady for a while; as when by a sudden stroke God took from me my eldest sister, whom I greatly loved. I then flew to God for relief and support; and that the blow might be sanctified to the whole family. Thus, when trouble was near, I poured out my prayer to God. But, alas! I was not steady and constant with God. My heart, after all that God had done for me, and all I had en|gaged for God, was now bent to back slide from God, and would have fatally apostatized from him, had he not kept me by his mighty power, from which none shall be ever able to pluck his children; he having en|gaged

to carry on the work he has begun, will assured|ed fulfil his purpose. This I verily believe; for other|wise I had never been recovered from such foul, un|grateful wanderings. O, how long did God wait to be gracious! How many mercies did he bestow on me! How many gentle reproofs; how many kind calls and entreaties did he use! But still I forsook the Lord my Redeemer.

And now he began to hide his face from me, and suffer Satan to beset me. My sins appeared great, and I was covered with darkness and confusion. I appear|ed to myself amazingly ignorant. And here Satan strove to persuade me that I had better let religion a|lone, until I was older. Then I should know how to en|gage in it. And I was tempted to believe all the dark|ness and trouble I found was owing to my being so young, that I had not sufficient knowledge to engage in any thing of religion. O, what distress was I now in! I found I could not now cast off God, and the concerns of my soul; nor could I seem to pursue them to any pur|pose. I had set my hand to the plough, and dare not resolvedly look back, and cast off all thoughts of God and my soul; nor would God suffer me thus to do▪ No, adored be the blessed God, who was now about to bring me near himself. Satan had often suited his tempt|ation to my childish thoughts, and suggested that I could not be contented if I went to heaven; for I could not be contented here always in one place. I returned the question, how I should be contented in hell? But here he suggested the variety of company, I remember. This temptation followed me closely. But the other, concerning my being too young to en|gage in religion, was now very powerful. I found myself entangled in a labyrinth of darkness and confusion. God had justly hid himself from me. The teachings of his Spirit seemed to be gone, and I groped in the dark. I found not a fixed reliance on Christ, to carry on his work in my soul; but often engaged in my own strength; and then was foiled. I was often ready to think, I never would advise one so young as I was, to set about religion; for I greatly feared I never should

obtain the favour of God; but should make shipwreck of faith: Not considering Christ's care of his young, unexperienced disciples; that these have a peculiar in|terest in his most tender care; and that his promise is to such as seek him early, that they shall find him. Nor was I sufficiently humbled under my wicked de|parture from God.

O, had God now left me, what had I done, but join|ed with Satan, and utterly forsook the Lord? But thus he followed me with the convictions of his Spirit, some|times reproving; sometimes enlightening and encour|aging me; sometimes suffering Satan to assault me, until the year 1740,* 1.2when the Rev. Mr. Whitefield came here. I attended his preaching, and was quick|ened to give more diligence to make my calling and election sure. I read more, and listened more atten|tively to the truths of the gospel. And there being more talk of religion now▪ I got more acquaintance with the work of God in the souls of his people, and resolved more diligently to labour after a life of holi|ness, and inward conformity to God.

But here Satan, as a lion roused, roared after his prey, and beset me, to persuade me my day of grace was over; that all my strivings would not signify any thing; that God had cast me off. And now, as I had forsook God, he justly poured anguish and terror into my soul: And I cried out with Heman, "I am ready to die; while I suffer thy terrors I am distracted. Deep calleth unto deep at the noise of thy water spouts. All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me!" Satan was permitted to fill my mind with the most hor|rid blasphemies. He that had, but just before, tried to persuade me I was too young to be religious, now turn|ed his temptation to persuade me it was too late; that I should never obtain mercy; that there was no hope for me; that I had better curse God and die! And a|gain he would persuade me there was no God, nor any thing in religion. But, I felt the arrows of God with|in me. I roared, by reason of the disquietude of my soul; I roared, by reason of the disquietude of my soul; and was strongly beset to lay violent hands on

myself, verily fearing, if I lived, I should be a most blasphemous wretch; being strongly and violently urg|ed to utter some shocking imprecations on God, and my own soul, and every thing sacred. O! how many hours have I spent bewailing a lost God, and a lost heaven; crying out, ▪I am undone! I am undone! condemned already, and shall be damned!" Pleading with God to stop my impious breath, before it uttered those dreadful blasphemies. And I believe a bloody inhuman butcher would have been more welcome to my tortured breast, than a reprieve to a condemned criminal▪ For Satan began to persuade me that I was a devil incarnate; that God had raised and set me up as a monument of his wrath and vengeance; and that, if I lived, I should but show the enmity, rage and lan|guage of hell. Then he would persuade me to call God's justice into question, and impiously charge him with injustice, in suffering me to live.

That threatening was come upon me, "In the morn|ing thou shalt say, Would God it were evening! And at evening thou shalt say, Would God it were morn|ing!" I was now on the brink of despair; but never had opened my case to any person. My friends, as I afterwards found, were much distressed about me; and some feared I was going into despair. I had cast off all regard for my body. One of my hands, I had so long neglected, only when I wrung it in distress, that it began to wither and perish. I had scarce any com|mand or use of it. This, with the horror of my mind, made me appear awkward and singular, to those who knew not my case. And one sharply reproved me for it, telling me, she was ashamed of me, before company; though this I shunned, and never would be seen, if I could help it. This usage, with Satan's violent assaults, had been too hard for me, had not God graciously in|terposed, and brought good out of it. For this Satan took the advantage of, to worry and distract my soul. But I over heard my dear parents lamenting my case, with the utmost tenderness. And one repeated to them the treat|ment I had before met with. They sharply reproved the person, and expressed their distress for me, charging all to

treat me with the utmost tenderness. This worked powerfully on my affections. I took the Bible and sat down to read. The first words I met with were these, psal. cv. 13. "Like as a father pitieth his children; so the Lord pitieth them that fear him." They appeared quite new to me. I was filled with a sense of the com|passion and love of God, who before appeared as a ter|rible Being. And now I entertained some little en|couragement.

But, though the least gleam of hope was like life to the dead, yet it did not last long. Satan had not gone to the utmost of his permission. Though God merci|fully afforded some supports, that I might not be quite out done; yet, he wisely foresaw I needed more prun|ing, before I should bring forth fruit: And, therefore, suffered Satan still to vex my soul. Which liberty he improved in the most shocking and blasphemous sug|gestions, that a cursed fiend could throw into my mind. Every mercy was an occasion to dart them into my mind; and I was even weary of my life. The thoughts of hell were not so terrible to me, as those blasphemies of God, But, what added to my distress was, that I thought these were the produce of my own heart; that it was from the enmity of my nature against God, and not from Satan, that they did proceed. This added vastly to my distress: For I thought myself one of the worst of monsters; and often wished that I might be annihilated, that I might never shew forth this accurs|ed enmity of my heart in hell. O, it was a most shock|ing, tormenting thought to me, of joining with devils in blaspheming God and Jesus Christ; and I thought, if I was damned, I wished I might bear my torment, without an impious reproach on the blessed God. Yea, I made this the matter of my prayer to God and ac|knowledged his justice.

Thus I continued▪ in the year 1741, the Rev. Mr. Gilbert Tennent came here. He had been here be|fore; but I had never heard him. But now I went. And some of my friends, being much affected under the word, expressed their concern to me, telling me, they wished they had been as much concerned for

their souls, as they thought I was. This roused me. I burst into tears, and told them they did not know what a dreadful creature I was; what dreadful thoughts I had. And exclaimed against my self most terribly; as|suring them they could not once think how had I was. But, O, how was I harassed and worried, after I had told this to them! Satan worked on my pride, to make me ashamed that I had let any body know how bad I was. I thought they would not think me fit to live. I was ready to think every one would look on me to be such a monster, as was never heard of before. With many entreaties I was prevailed on, in the evening, to visit Mr. Tennent▪ But my mouth was shut. I dare not speak a word, only yes, or no. But I gained light by this worthy minister's preaching and conversation. Forever blessed be God that I saw him.

But, after this, I was terribly distressed by these words, "He that made you, will not have mercy on you; and he that formed you, will shew you no fa|vour." O, the terrors of these words were like fire in my soul! Again, Satan persuaded me not to pray for grace; for if I had grace, I should be under such infi|nite obligations to God for it, end I should never live up to them, that I should be worse off then than now. I could not then see through the fallacy of this temp|tation. O, how subtle is Satan in managing his temp|tations! First darkening our minds, as to some power|ful truths; and then he suits his temptations so artful|ly that the most judicious are sometimes nonplused. And no wonder then, that a poor, ignorant babe, who knew hut very little of the doctrinal or experimental part of religion, was so overpowered. And surely I had been utterly confounded, had not the Lord, strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle, engaged for me, supported and sustained my soul. An instance of this I am now come to. One night I was worn out with conflicts and combats. Despairing of help, I went into my chamber, and threw myself on the bed, unable to re|sist any longer; there to give up all hopes of mercy. But I fell asleep, so that I remembered no more, until the next morning. I awaked with all my clothes on, as I was the

day before: But my mind was more composed. I was at first startled, that one under such distress could sleep thus. But I recollected that the disciples of our Lord were said to sleep for sorrow of heart. Though my inward trials were great now; yet God graciously afforded me time|ly relief and succour, more than I had heretofore, or perhaps I had failed under so long a pressure of soul.

Again, I was distressed, and almost ready to despair, because my trials were of so long continuance; and my heart began to faint. Satan set in to persuade me there was no hope for me, seeing I had been in this condition so long, and was no nearer deliverance than at first. Now my soul was racked with tormenting ag|ony; in which I took up the Bible, not knowing what to do, or scarce what I did do. But, to my surprise, I lit on those words, John v. 6. "When Jesus saw him lie, and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he faith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole?" Here I saw the compassionate Redeemer shewing his compassion to one long distressed; that this was no ob|stacle in his way; that, as his power was not limited, neither was his goodness: But even this, that was an objection against my hope, seemed to be given here, for some reason or motive that excited Christ's pity.

"When Jesus saw him lie, and knew he had been now a long time in that case," &c. This was my case. I had been now a long time in a very destressed condi|tion. And if Jesus had compassion on him, why might he not on me. From this I took encouragement: The power and goodness of the kind Saviour. My dark|ness vanished; my distress fled; and I cast myself on this gracious God for help, believing he would appear for me, and show mercy, and bruise Satan under my feet. O, how did this revive my drooping soul, and cause me to rejoice!

But I was soon again plunged into terrible distress. For, though Satan was forced to slee, he soon returned with redoubled sury on me. Yet, by these conquests of my Saviour over him, I was kept from utter despair. I was again assaulted, so that I seemed as one really possessed of the devil. For, when at secret prayer, I

should be so surprised, hurried and distracted, as to start right up, and run about, not knowing what I did, or why I did it; only that Satan seemed to have the full power of me. And sometimes some outward things have been so managed, that I could not but think Satan worked powerfully by these to affright and terrify me: Because, at the very instant that my mind has been thrown into the most amazing disorder and confusion, some outward surprisals have rushed on me, which could not be otherwise well accounted for. Yet, blessed be God, Satan was never permitted to pre|sent any thing to my bodily eyes, or ears; not did I ever think I heard any voice, or saw any vision, either from heaven or hell. My fancy, or imagination, was never carried away, and so imposed on me, as to think I heard any thing, that had a peculiar respect to me, beyond what the word of God has revealed. And this I have often thought of, with gratitude to God; especially when I consider how prone my constitution is to the lively workings of fancy. Nor did the sweet comforts of the gospel, and the joys I have since felt, proceed from any such imaginary transports; but, I trust, have been agreeable to divine revelation in the scriptures, and to reason. I think I have abundant cause to adore and bless that God who has preserved me from such sordid notions of vital religion, on which some persons of wild imagination have laid great stress. viz. hearing voices, seeing visions, being in trances, and seeing their names written in heaven, &c.

But though this, through the grace of God, was not my case; yet Satan had great power to fright and dis|tress me; especially after I had been engaging in the worship of God. And I should be filled with such hor|ror, that I could rest in no one posture; but rolling from place to place; wringing my hands: expostulat|ing with God to take me out of the world: For what profit could it be to him, that I should live to dishon|our his great and dreadful name. And here all form|er temptations seemed to redouble their force. I was ready to wish I never had been: And that I was any thing but a living soul. It is impossible for the tongue

or pen of mortals to describe the agony of my soul; the amazing load that pressed on me. I seemed as though I should have twisted every bone out of its place: And have often since wondered that I never disjointed a bone, when, through the violence of my distress, I wrung my hands, twisted every joint, and strain|ed every nerve; biting my flesh; gnashing my teeth; throwing myself on the floor. But, O, how did the supporting hand of God still uphold me, though I saw it not, but thought myself abandoned and given over of God. Yet, now I see infinite wisdom, grace and love, accompanying all these dispensations towards me. And must adore thy forever adorable goodness, Lord, for thou hast done all things well. These afflictions, which were, indeed, not joyous, but greivous, now yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness. Here I see the wisdom, power and goodness of my glorious Re|deemer. Verily, he is infinitely worthy my stedfast trust, and everlasting confidence. From hence I find powerful motives and vast encouragement for future trust and reliance.

But to return. My distress increased on me, until the necessaries of life grew tasteless. And here Satan set in to persuade me I had sinfully indulged my appe|tite. And when I attempted to eat, it would be suggest|ed, that I was then increasing my condemnation. And while I was under this temptation I met with those words, Rom. xiv. 23, "He that doubteth is damned, if he eat." I did not consider it had no reference to our common, daily food; but to what was offered to idols. But the tempter would persuade me it was just my case; for I was convinced it was a sin; and yet went on. This threw me into great horror, and I resolved to de|ny myself. Had Satan tempted me wholly to refrain, and starve myself, I should have seen it to be a tempta|tion of his. But I was only tempted to mortify and cross my appetite. Every meal I was tempted to re|frain from that, and so on. This the family soon be|gan to perceive, that I withdrew at meal times, not knowing the occasion of it. But, one day, having sat until dinner was brought in, I then retired. I was sent

for; but made an excuse. My mother, being very un|easy, came once and again to my chamber door; and at last desired to come in. I dare not refuse; but wish|ed I might have been excused from opening my door. When she came in, she affectionately asked me, What was the matter? And whether I could not tell a moth|er my troubles? After many struggles with myself, I told her. She cautioned and warned me; and endeav|oured to comfort me by her own experiences. But the temptation and fear in some measure remained, though I had not such opportunity to yield; and that crossed Satan's desire. Before this, I had been so long harassed and terrified with the dismal apprehensions of certain, unavoidable damnation, that though I took only enough to preserve life, yet every mouthful seemed to seal up my condemnation. And therefore I seemed ready to give up, and wholly abstain, rather than endure the distress of mind that every morsel I took filled me with. Forev|er blessed be God, that this temptation was discovered. For, though I had been most furiously beset to lay vio|lent hands on myself, through all my temptation; yet, blessed be God! I never was left to make any attempt on my life. But in this Satan worked more subtilly, and I could not see any conspiracy against my life: But my design was to mortify myself. O, how hard is it to see through the wiles of Satan, when he appears as an angel of light, as he now did!

But soon after this, being alone in my chamber, Sa|tan assaulted me most fiercely to put an end to my life: For never was any one in such a condition before; that I was an outcast, rejected of God; that I had bet|ter put an end to my life, than live to treasure up wrath against the day of wrath. The cruel instrument was present to accomplish the hellish design. This tempt|ation rushed on me with such impetuous force, that I found it would be highly dangerous to stay there. The family being gone to bed, I thought I would go too, rather than stay alone, left I should be quite overpow|ered. But now Satan shifted, and filled me with distress|ing apprehensions of awaking in hell, to frighten me from going to bed. He that would have brought me

quick there, in a dreadful plunge, now opened the ter|rors of it, to affrighten me from my sleep. But I found, as soon as I began to decline going to bed, or leaving the room, the temptation to destroy myself revived with greater force. This was a most violent conflict; and I ran out of the room. And, as I passed another cham|ber, I saw a book lie, in which my sister had a little be|fore been reading. It happened to be Mr. Corban's Advice to Sinners under Conviction, &c. with some Scru|ples of the Tempted resolved. I had never seen or heard of the book before; nor knew that there was any such book in the house. But, in the distress of my mind, I took it up; and the first words I saw in it, were these:

1. "Although thy present condition be deplorable; yet be not thy own executioner, if God will give thee a reprieve in the world. When thou art tempted to it, I solemnly charge thee to remember, that God hath forbidden it, saying, Thou shalt not kill.

2. "In the hour of temptation go not out in thy own strength. Look to Christ, and keep thy hold of him, who is able to keep thee from falling. The Lord hath laid help on one that is mighty. Psal. lxxxix. 19.

3. "Give no place to the devil. Be not affrighted from continuing in thy calling; for the Lord hath promised to keep thee in all thy ways; and his angels shall have change over thee. Psal. xci 11, 12.

4. "Thou art grossly mistaken in thinking no case like thine. For no temptation hath taken you, but such as is common to men. 1 Cor. 10. 13. Many of God's dear children have been as vehemently assaulted with such hellish temptations, though thou thinkest thy case cannot be paralleled, and have been recovered; and their unbelief and all their sad conclusions confuted.

5. "When thou art tempted to sin, flee to that promise, Isai liv. 17, No weapon formed against thee shall prosper. The God of peace shall bruise Satan un|der thy feet shortly. Rom. xvi. 20. God is faithful, who will not suffer thee to be tempted above that thou art able to bear."

But, O, with what wonder and astonishment did I read these lines, so peculiarly adapted to my case! Was

I tempted to that soul shuddering sin, self murder? Here is a caution, command and promise, to the con|trary, from the word of God. Or am I tempted to think there never was any one in such a case as that in which I am? Here Satan is proved a liar from the word of God. Or am I affrighted from sleep, which is my calling, in the proper season of it? I have a cau|tion not to give way to it, and a promise to rely up|on. Thus, with an uncommon power, were the words applied to my present case. What a sudden, unexpect|ed providence was here! And at once Satan felt the force of these commissioned lines, and fled the field. The seed of the woman bruised the serpent's head, while he was bruising but his heel. For now I saw the power, wisdom and goodness of that Being, whom I was tempted to disbelieve. I saw the truth of that word, which Satan had told me there was no truth in; and I saw Satan to be a liar. The darkness and horror disappeared. This was the Lord's doing, and it was marvellous in mine eyes. There was no human con|trivance in it. I saw the power and grace of Christ. He manifested himself to be the Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle, and worthy my confidence. O, how unutterable my joy! I sang of free surprising grace; and, with the leper, was constrained, by gratitude and love, to return and give glory to God.

Now I felt but little disposition for sleep. My whole soul was carried out in praise and admiration, while I lay in the dust, crying out, Why me! Lord, why me? Why hast thou stooped to regard so unworthy a worm as I? O, how free and sovereign did this grace ap|pear! How did I triumph in God, casting my whole soul and body on him! And when I lay down to rest, how sweet to commit myself into 'tis hands, saying, "I will fear no evil, for thou art with me." Now I saw the wisdom of God, in all his dealings with me; and did rejoice in hope that I was one of his called according to his purpose; since those very temptations, which I feared were against me, now worked together for my good; displaying to me the power, wisdom and grace of God; exciting my faith and love to more sensible

exercise; and confirming in my mind many scriptures, the truth of which I had been long ready to doubt of. For in my haste I had said, "All men are liars. Where are his promises? Do they fail?" But now I said, "True and faithful is the word of the Lord," &c. O who can set bounds to the infinite grace and love of God!

I wonder at, and adore the love of God in regarding any of the fallen apostate race of rebelling man. I am surprised at his condescensions, when I read of his deal|ings with his eminent servants, who are as pillars in his house, and such from whom may reasonably be expect|ed some suitable returns, though none can compensate she least act of his grace. But, O, how does my won|der rise, even to astonishment, when I review but what my treacherous memory yet retains of his dealing with unworthty me! O, my soul, God knew thee to be a helpless, worthless, depraved worm. He knew thy sta|tion and capacity were low and mean, and thy ingrati|tude, sloth and negligence great, and unbecoming thee. He knew what poor returns thou wouldst make. And yet, O surprising grace! I believe there are many of the former to whom he never afforded more speedy succour and relief, than to me. Verily, O God, it is like thy nature, immense and boundless. For thou hast chosen the base things of this world, babes and suck|lings; yea, things that are not, to shew forth thy pow|er and grace. O, the height and depth of unsearcha|ble grace and love!

But to return. Now I engaged to be the Lord's, and bound myself to him in a short written covenant, which I find dated Oct. 19, 1741.* 1.3 And I enjoyed some more freedom from those violent distress, which I had suf|fered; but was not wholly delivered. For my fear and temptation returned at times, though not so con|stant as formerly. And God graciously allowed me some near access to him in prayer. A very little after this I was seeking God for a particular temporal mercy: and was powerfully quieted by those words, Matth. vi. 33, "Seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added

unto you." This gave my mind a calm turn. And though I had no prospect of the speedy accomplishment of my request; yet I believed in the promise, and left it with God, and was as well satisfied as if I had seen it done. And, before night, to the wonder of many, it was accomplished. I was filled with such a humbling sense of the goodness of God, and my own vileness, that I sat as one not concerned in the matter; while others were rejoicing, and calling on me, to know if I was sorry. But my soul was engaged in adoring God as the author of all my mercies, and in sealing to the truth of his word, that he was a God hearing prayer.

I now began more strictly to examine those princi|ples of religion in which I had been educated. But to find Christ, and be found in him, was the prevailing concern of my life. For I was so often plunged into new distresses, that I could not pursue any thing stead|ily. Yet I embraced those principles, which I thought most agreeable to divine revelation, without chang|ing my profession.* 1.4But, when I had light and hope about my own state, I was disposed to look into these matters. But I feared to be too much engaged in any thing that did not immediately concern my getting in|to Christ, by a true and vital union to him. Now my soul longed after him, and the language of my whole heart was for a Christ, a whole Christ, in all his offices, on his own terms; and that he would manifest himself to me: Giving up myself to him; engaging to be his; afraid of every thing that might offend him. I had some dis|covery of Christ as a complete Saviour. Yet there was much of a legal spirit in me, which often filled me with great terror, and hideous fears of condemnation. And Satan set in with it, and would tempt me to many things, indifferent in themselves; yet very inconvenient and burdensome to me. But if I refused or objected, hell and unavoidable damnation to the disobedient, was the doleful peal rung in my ears. Yea, he persuaded me every refusal was a seal on my condemnation. And therefore, for the sake of quietness, I yielded, and so

brought myself under such a yoke of bondage to Satan, as gave him vast power over me. I kept many days of fasting and prayer; and often denied myself almost all the comforts of life. I used great severity with myself, even to cruelty; often taking for food that which was most disagreeable, to mortify myself. I mortified a grateful disposition of soul, by embittering my mercies. In all which I was very private. Numberless were the mistakes and errors, into which I ran at this time. However, though Satan urged me on to things, to an extreme, yet, I trust, God brought good out of it, and taught me much of a gospel self denying spirit.

About this time the Rev. Mr. Wheelock came here, and preached from those words, 2 Cor. xiii. 5▪ "Exam|ine yourselves, whether ye be in the faith," &c. This put me on a serious inquiry into the state of my soul; which I had scarce allowed myself to do before: But rather inclined to fix in my mind that I had no true faith, than to admit a thought that possibly I had. But now I made some inquiry; and dare not deny those evidences, which were mentioned from the scriptures. And, by a sermon of the Rev. Mr. Dickinson on the witness of the Spirit, I found, as I thought, farther ground to hope I had experienced a work of grace in my soul. But had greater discoveries of the corruption of my heart: And was often amazed and confounded; es|pecially under Mr. Wheelock's preaching: But not so as to lose my hope; though it was often very low.

But now, as I had some hope and relief, I set myself to pursue the inquiry into the principles of religion. I read Barclay's Apology; Mr. Vincent's Exposition of the Assembly's Catechism; and several other authors on the same subjects; with some treatises on the ordi|nances. And especially comparing them with scrip|ture. And, upon the whole, after prayer and supplica|tion to God for direction, according to the best light I could get, without applying to any person, on one side or the other, I was convinced that the ordinances of Baptism and the Lord's Supper were of divine appoint|ment at first. And I found they had been kept up in the church by the apostles; and could find no proof from

scripture that they were ever abolished, as the ceremo|nial law was: And therefore still were in force, and ought to be practised by christians. I was now con|vinced they were the positive commands of Christ, and not to be slighted or neglected.

As to the doctrines of grace, the imputation of Ad|am's sin; the corruption of our nature; Justification by the imputation of the righteousness of Christ, through faith in him; the divine sovereignty, that grace was absolutely free and sovereign, without any foreseen merit or worth in the creature, according to Rom. ix. 1 Pet. i. and many other passages of the scripture to the same purpose; and the other doctrines of the gospel, as set forth by the assembly of divines at Westmins|ter, I did verily believe them to be most agreeable to the word of God; which I believe to be the only rule of a faith and practice; by which the Spirit of God doth lead us into all truth. I did embrace these doc|trines, according to the best light I had, (after a dili|gent inquiry after the truth) as most worthy of God, and warranted by his word, for me to receive and walk in; not condemning others, who did not see as I did. Yet I still continued in the way in which I had been educated▪ waiting on God for farther light and estab|lishment. This was in the beginning of the year 1742.* 1.5

But to return to the inward exercises of my mind, in respect to the state of my soul. God saw I needed farther humbling, before I might enjoy the abundant consolations of the gospel: And therefore he suffered me frequently to be plunged into the depths of distress. And indeed as soon as my distress was a little abated, I began to think myself secure and hardened, and fear|ed that God was about to leave me; and so covered my former distress again. And God was pleased again to lot Satan loose, as it were upon me; until I became a very terror to myself choosing strangling and death, rather than life. I must fetch language from hell, would I express the horrid suggestions which were con|tinually injected into my dark, confused mind. All the temptations I ever read of were mine; and many

which I never heard of; with the most amazing hor|ror; so that I thought I anticipated the terrors of the damned, and was on the very brink of despair. O, let me never forget these awful days! What tongue can express such distress, or heart conceive such terror! My heart was laid open into he most shocking colours. I had often prayed that I might be led into its horrid deeps; but how dreadful the sight! I had utterly faint|ed under it, had not the unseen arm of Jehovah sus|tained me. What pride! What enmity! What hy|pocrisy! What carnality and self confidence, were here discovered! O! what a monster did I appear! I wondered that a holy God would suffer me to tread on his earth, or breathe in his air.

And thus I continued until about June or July; when the Rev. Mr. Fish of Stonington came here. He preached from these words, "Wherefore, he is able al|so to save them to the uttermost, that come unto God by him." He observed, that here none were excluded; but such as bad committed the unpardonable sin. It was sermon full of encouragement. But Satan set in to persuade me that was my case; and therefore there was no hope for me; for I had, under these violent temptations, certainly done it. O, how was my dis|tress now increased! I seemed now as one shut up in despair. However, I went in the evening to hear him again: But seemed hardened, as one given over of God. Whatever he said of terror, I seemed to disre|gard, as so far below what I should soon feel, in its full weight and measure, that it was but trifling. And what he said of comfort was not worth my regarding; for I had no lot or portion in that matter. Never did I before sit under a sermon, in such wild distraction and horror; yet so hardened, as I now appeared to myself, in absolute despair. It is shocking to me now to reflect on the abandoned frame I then seemed to be in. I thought I feared nothing. No expressions of terror moved me to bewail my misery; but was ready to wish to know the utmost of it. In this situation of mind I remained most of the night. But towards morning, falling asleep, I awaked speaking these words,

O, when shall this mortal put on immortality! And my mind was much more calm. I had some impres|sions of a religious dream. But the dream soon entire|ly vanished from my mind. However, I felt so much encouragement, as prevailed on me to go again to hear Mr. Fish give a word of exhortation, notwithstanding all my dreadful conclusions on the night past. And be spoke from these words, Col. iii. 11, "Where there is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision nor uncircum|cision, Barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free: But Christ is all, and in all." I cannot remember exactly the method he took: But he spoke of Christ as the Alpha and Omega, as the author and finisher of the believer's faith; and, as such, the true christian did esteem and prize him.

And now, I trust, the Spirit of God did powerfully apply these truths to my soul. Thus, thus, infinitely lovely did Christ appear to me. And now I was ena|bled to choose him for my almighty Saviour. And while I acted faith in him, the blessed Spirit, I trust, did witness with my spirit, than thus and thus I had be|fore beheld and embraced him; and that he was pre|cious to me, as he is to all those who believe. Much of the day I spent in the company of Mr. Fish, and some other christian friends. But I said little. My soul was taken up in admiring the glorious Redeemer, and the riches of divine grace; renewing my choice of him. Setting the crown on his head. Proclaiming Jesus King in and over my whole soul. I sat calm and serene; and every act of my soul was rational and solid: But not in any transport or ecstasy of joy all the day. But in the evening God was pleased to fill my soul with unspeakable consolation and joy. The great Redeemer appeared transcendently amiable; and my interest in him clear and undoubted. Such were the surprising alterations in me, that some did conclude that was the time of my first espousals; that was the happy moment of my conversion. But I could not find any difference in kind, though there was in degree, between this, and what I had before experienced. From this time I was never in such deep distress. My

temptations fled at the rebuke of the Almighty; and my hope was, in the general, above my fears.

And, as my hope now prevailed that I had true faith, however weak, my desires after universal obedience to the commands of Christ were strong. And firmly be|lieving the ordinances of baptism and the Lord's sup|per were appointed by Christ, and all believers com|manded to attend on them, I applied myself to a min|ister, who gave me some light, as to their nature and design. The only person to whom I had revealed my mind. For I was determined to be fully persuaded in my own mind and conscience; and not to be persuad|ed thereto by others. Some of my most intimate friends, as they have since told me, really thought me settled in the way in which I had been educated. Nor did they attempt to persuade me to change; leaving me to my own reason, or rather to the word and Spirit of God, for direction. This has often since been a great satisfaction to me. For by this means I was the better able to see into these matters, and have my judg|ment established.

And now I resolved directly to acquaint my dear mother with my design. But, O, the struggle I had here with my affections! I feared it would grieve my tender parents. I knew their tender affection for me: And certainly, if they loved their children, they must desire to see them walk in their way, which they thought most right. Here I found indeed a hard trail. It grieved me to my inmost soul to think of grieving them: Yet I dare not neglect my duty. I have often thought the trail would not have been so great, to have to struggle with their anger, as their love. But, bless|ed be God, I had not that to fear, as to any severity in matters of religion. It is impossible to express how my heart bled at the thought of wounding them. And nothing but the fear of incurring the divine displeasure, could have prevailed on me to have done this violence to my affection. But this prevailed; the fear of of|fending God. I poured out my soul to him for them, that they might be comfortably supported under it. And then told my mother my concern and intent. She,

with the utmost tenderness, assured me, that neither my father, nor she, would force my conscience. Only she entreated me not to be rash or hasty in what I did; but consider well of it. Which I told her I had done, &c. Once or twice after this, I discoursed with her upon it. She reasoned with me a little upon the subject; but I was now so fully established, that it did not move me from my purpose.

After I had discoursed with my mother, being in se|cret, pleading with God for grace and strength to carry me through, if it was agreeable to his will; if not, that I might never engage; I had a scruple arise concern|ing my faith, lest is should not be true and saving: And then perhaps I should fall away; and so bring great dishonour on God and religion. And it was sug|gested to my mind, that it was a great thing to forsake father and mother for Christ, and not have an interest in him at last. And that it was indeed a great thing for one so young to engage in such an affair; to for|sake the profession in which I had been educated, and make such a high one, as none in the family had ever ven|tured to do. This put me upon wrestling with strong cries to the Father of mercies for direction and assist|ance. And I was quieted by the following words of scripture, which were very powerfully set home on my soul. "Verily, there is no man, that hath left father or mother, brethren or sisters, &c. for my sake, but he shall receive an hundred fold here; and in the world to come eternal life." And again, "My grace is suf|ficient for thee. My strength is made perfect in weak|ness." Again, "Lest a promise being left us of enter|ing into his rest, any of you should seem to come short of it. O. thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" These words were impressed on my mind with such power, that had all the world stood up to oppose, I thought I could fearless venture to go on, against them all, in the strength of my Redeemer. O, how pow|erfully did they establish and invigorate my soul, in the pursuit of my duty!

I was then determined to proceed, relying on Christ, in the promises. If his grace was sufficient for me;

and his strength might be made perfect in my weak|ness, it was enough; which I then believed it would be, according to his word. It was ground sufficient for me to engage in this concern, however difficult, great and singular it might appear, for one of my age.* 1.6O, how did Christ now appear for me! At once, dispel|ling all my doubts and fears, confirming and establish|ing me, both as to my own good state, and his certain presence and assistance in my following him in the way of his appointment, to which he had called me. I saw the call was his, and the promise his, and the duty mine to comply. I now believed him commanding me to seek his face in this way, and my heart returned, Thy face, O Lord, will I seek.

And having made some search into the scriptural mode of baptism, I was well satisfied as to sprinkling. It ap|peared from scripture and reason to be right. I then went to the Rev. Mr. Clap; and, after discours|ing with him, gave up my name to be taken into his church. The day before this was to be completed, I was under some darkness and fears: And therefore was afraid lest God should hide his face from me, in the advantage to make me question whether I had done right, in what I had done. I knew the subtilty of Sa|tan to perplex, my soul, and make me fear all was wrong, when God did not afford light and evidence. I was now ready to conclude to send the minister word, that I should not go out the next day. But now, even now, was God pleased to speak to my soul by his Spirit, in those words, "I said not unto the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain!" Here I was led to review my calls to these ordinances; and was powerfully convinced they were from God. That it was God, and only he, who had bid me seek his face in these duties; and then the blessed Spirit assured me, from the word of God, that he had not bid me seek his face here, in vain. I then determined to do my duty, and leave the event with God: If he saw best to own his own institutions, by affording his sensible presence and grace, well: But

if he saw best to deny his sensible comfort, it was my duty to submit; but not to omit my duty by not going. Thus I cast my burden on God, pleading, if it was his will, that he would welcome me there, by the light of his countenance, and the joy of his salvation. But, above all, that I might approve myself to him in the devout, solemn, humble and faithful discharge of my duty, though I felt not that joy which was sweet to my soul.

And thus, on October 24, 1742,* 1.7I was baptized, and taken into the church. My soul was, in a most solemn manner, engaged to approve myself to God. And never had I more sensibly exercised faith, than now. While the covenant was read, I was enabled to give up my whole soul and body to God, taking him for my own, only covenant God. And, indeed, the whole time was taken up in the most solemn transac|tions between God and my soul, and in this so solemn engagement, sealed on both sides. I sealed to be the Lord's; and here God sealed to be mine, my Father, my Redeemer, and my Sanctifier; my only, everlast|ing refuge and hope. O, how happy did I now ap|pear to be, under these solemn vows, calling on saints and angels to witness the solemn transaction!

"Here in thy courts I leave my vow, And thy rich grace record; Witness, ye saints, who hear me now, If I forsake the Lord."

The cxxist Psalm was sung in Dr. Watts's version. The title, "Divine protection." Which did then, and ever since, appear very precious to me; especially the two first, and two last verses. The two last are these:

"Should earth and hell with malice burn, Still thou shalt go, and still return, Safe in the Lord; his heavenly care Defends thy life from every snare. "On thee foul spirits have no power, And in thy last departing hour, Angels, that trace the airy road, Shall bear thee homeward to thy God."

I was now fully satisfied in what I had done; and never since, so far as I can remember, have had one doubt or scruple about the doctrines or ordinances which I then embraced; which is now above eleven years ago.* 1.8I have often found cause to bless God for the many trails I had concerning the changing my re|ligion, as to these things. For by this my judgement was more enlightened, and more fully confirmed, that I was right in what I then did. It was with delibera|tion and solid determination of my judgment; free from constraint, persuasion or prejudice, that I proceed|ed in these matters, as what, from the best light I then had, or now have, in the word of God, I think to be most clearly revealed. Yet, I still love and honour those who I hope, are truly pious, among that people, though differing from me in some sentiments; and I firmly believe God has his chosen ones among them. My acquaintance with some, of exemplary lives and conversation, and christian experiences, so agree|able to the word of God, forbids my censuring them, merely because they do not see or profess just as I do.

But to go on with my own experiences. My faith began evidently to increase under these means and or|dinances. And for some weeks after this solemn trans|action, I enjoyed more solid steady peace in my soul, than ever I had done before; And was often melted down before God, to see those who had been educated in these principles, and had all outward helps to forward them in coming up to these sacred institu|tions of Christ; yet fearing to take he vows of God upon them: And I, who was called to engage with so many difficulties, compelled to come in to this marriage supper. It was truly affecting, and often caused me to cry out, Why me, Lord, why me? O, blessed be God, that I was thus young brought to an open, pub|lic profession of him; and had the seals of the cove|nant set on me! It was a day of the gladness of my heart. A day forever to be remembered with joy. A day, in which God took me near himself. And I trust I shall ever find a solid satisfaction in what I then did.

Nothing should have tempted me to have wished my|self from under these bonds and seals.

However fully satisfied I was, as to these things; yet I was sometimes exercised with great fears about my spiritual estate. And one day, the winter following, having been, for some days before, under great doubts and my evidences very much clouded, so that I could not see any of the conditions of the promises wrought in my soul. I feared I had no interest in Christ, or the promises, and dare not plead them. But I deter|mined to set upon pleading the absolute promises, see|ing I dare not plead the conditional ones; and set a|part some time for this purpose. I found great free|dom and fervency in my soul, on this occasion; and had my mouth filled with arguments taken from the freeness of grace; the sovereignty of God. For his own name's sake, he had promised to give a new heart and a new spirit: And why might not these promises be fulfilled in me? Why might not God glorify his absolutely free and sovereign grace in me? I acknowledged my unworthiness and vileness: But pleaded that this nev|er hindered the current of sovereign grace. Thus I continued most of the remaining part of the day, with a much greater variety of promises and scriptures, than I ever before or since had in my mind at one time. I am very certain I never could collect so many texts at once, all so agreeable to my present concern, if I took the utmost pains for it. And here I hung, and felt strength, though no sensible com|fort.

The next day I proceeded in the same manner, and humbly resolved, if I perished, I would perish at the feet of sovereign mercy. And now was God pleased, in the most distinct and clear manner, to manifest him|self to me. There has always appeared to me some|thing peculiar in this, beyond any thing I can remember before. I cannot but think I had a work of grace wrought in my soul before this. The actings of my soul towards God before this, appear to me to be as really true faith, as those since. Yet this seems the nearest like the soul's being first brought home to God,

of any thing I ever had experienced, or could distinctly remember. But I am inclined to think that, as there were some things in this, the want of a distinct discov|ery of which before, had caused many doubts in may mind about my whole experience; so now God gra|ciously renewed or revived them in my soul, for the more settled confirmation and establishment of my hope, as it since has been. It was as follows.

I was, as before observed, brought to the feet of sov|ereign grace. I saw myself, as in myself, to be infi|nitely vile and wretched, utterly unable to help myself; most unworthy that God should help me; and that it would be infinitely just, if God should east me off for|ever: And I thought I must forever own it, though I were cast into hell. I cast myself at his feet, crying out, Lord save me, or I perish. I saw every refuge fail, and God an absolute sovereign. And here I had a powerful discovery of Christ made to my soul. He was now revealed as a complete, almighty Saviour; altogether excellent and lovely in himself, and infinite|ly suitable for me. And not only so; but he whom the glorious God had appointed as Mediator; and had de|clared himself well pleased with him. Now, O, now, I embraced him; I received him as my prophet, priest and king. As one through whom I might boldly come to God. Nor can I tell which my soul was most en|gaged in admiring, the love of the Son, or the wisdom of the Father in contriving this method of salvation. I saw it to be the safest and best way. My whole soul did acquiesce in it. O! I thought, if I had ten thou|sand souls, and each of them were of unspeakably greater worth than mine was, I could venture them all here. And since I had but one, and it was my all, I freely cast it here. How infinitely reasonable did the terms of salvation appear! So that I freely justified God in the eternal damnation of those who would not submit to them.

O, it is utterly impossible to describe the views I then had. Words cannot come near it. All the pow|ers of my soul were engaged and inflamed. It was the most rational discovery, and produced the most ration|al

effects and acts, that ever my soul was able to per|form. It appeared so infinitely reasonable, that it is, I think, impossible for a reasonable person, under such a discovery, not to choose it. I longed for every one to see it just as I did: And subscribed to these words of the Psalmist, "They who know thy name, will put their trust in thee." But what shall I say! Language fails, and I must cease to attempt to express, and only reflect with unutterable wonder and love.

The views I then had, did powerfully raise my faith above any former acts of it. I had before been chiefly revived by the evidences of a work of grace in my soul. But now I do not remember I had any thoughts of former experiences. The glory of God and the meth|od of salvation through Christ filled my soul with the most solid, substantial joy, wonder and love. It con|tinued all that day, and the next, rather increasing than abating. But a few days after, as my view of these things was not so clear and powerful, and the joy not gone, I was in some danger of depending on my sweet frame, in opposition to relying wholly on Christ. At this instant, I received a letter from the Rev. Mr. Wheelock, in answer to one I had written to him some time before. But his came at this time, I never could learn how, though it had been written, I think, some months before: But now it came at the instant when I most needed it. And, I think, of all the means I ever had improved, none were ever more blessed for my es|tablishment, than this letter. I have ever found it a powerful instrument in the hand of God of convincing and confirming my soul: And must ever adore the wisdom of God, who directed him to write it, and did so powerfully apply it to my heart.

This letter laid me in the dust. I saw my past folly and sin, and my present danger. I was humbled be|fore God; and my ingratitude and sin appeared high|ly aggravated. Yet my soul was not filled with fears about my state. It rather put me upon renewing my faith in Christ. And as it convinced me of what was wrong; so it put me on a more critical watch over my heart. In short, it was blessed to regulate much of my

inward conduct, both under comfort, and in darkness. And for some months after, it seemed to be copied out in my experiences. Mr. Stoddard on the safety of ap|pearing in the righteousness of Christ; Mr. Flavel, and some others, on the covenant of redemption, were greatly blessed to establish my soul.

And now the holy Spirit of God did work to strength|en my faith. My mouth was filled with arguments in prayer. I had enlarged and affecting views of the in|finite, unlimited Being, with whom I had to do; and that the blessings▪ I was seeking were absolutely free and sovereign; and of my interest in the dear, divine Mediator, whom the Father always hears. This filled me with the utmost boldness of access. My views of spiritual things were vastly higher than ever before; and my sense of sin more evangelical. O, may I re|cord these seasons, with the deepest humility and great|est wonder! I have thought some of these discoveries have left written on my heart, Holiness to the Lord. While I beheld the divine glory, by faith, my whole soul seemed to be transformed into the divine image.

But I forbear to attempt to relate some of those un|utterable views of the divine perfections, which I have had by faith. Yet the effect, I trust, shall still abide, until heaven allow language bright enough to express those glories, which I then by faith beheld in Jesus Christ, who is the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of his person, and the fulness of the Godhead. Now, O my soul, perhaps it will better be|come thee, in solemn silence, humbly to adore the di|vine condescension, than here to relate particulars.

Let me only record some of the kind effects of these things on my soul, which may serve to awaken me to see from whence I am fallen, and to convince me that the Lord is true and faithful; and though sorrow may endure for a night, yet joy cometh in the morning▪ And they who sow in tears, shall reap in joy. My consolation was sow in tears, shall reap in joy. My consolation was not less, or inferiour to the amazing terrors I had before been exercised with. No! bless|ed be God! I now enjoyed a mere heaven on earth. The views I had of the divine perfections enlarged all

my conceptions of the divine power and goodness; the unlimited, infinite fulness of God; the sovereign freeness of grace and love. The glorious, all sufficient, powerful advocate I had with the Father, raised my faith. I did not fear to ask for any thing that was not forbidden by the word of God, however great and good; and however unworthy I was.

I reflected on the several excellencies of the saints, recorded in scripture: The faith of Abraham; the ho|ly confidence of Jacob; the meekness of Moses; the uprightness of David. Yea, the humility, patience, love, fortitude, zeal, resolution, prudence, strength, wis|dom and constancy of the people of God, in all ages: Who all derived their grace from this unbounded ful|ness, through this dear divine Mediator. They had nothing but what they had received: Not even Paul, with all his great attainments. And they received them for the sake of this glorious High Priest, in whose name I had boldness of access. These were by nature chil|dren of wrath; blind, ignorant, depraved, corrupt, base, sordid souls, as to God, and spiritual things. It was not for any merit in them; but for the glory of the riches of his sovereign grace in Jesus Christ, that they were thus chosen and blessed. And the least babe in this family, who had an interest in him, had as real a right to plead for grace, and might do it with as much boldness, as the greatest faint living; since we are all one in Christ Jesus, all have one and the same right in him, as Mediator, if we have any true interest in him by faith.

O, how did these views often fill my soul with a ho|ly boldness, and my mouth with arguments. O my soul, remember, with holy, humble wonder and love, how God did then, as it were, lead thee into his secret chambers; held up thy weak tabernacle of clay; en|compassing thee with his glorious fulness, and strength|ening thee with might, by his Spirit, to wrestle with him; O, the confidence of faith!

From whence art thou fallen, O my soul. Where are those soul quickening, soul humbling, soul transform|ing views I then had? Where the devout ardour, the

unsatiable thirst, the unwearied importunity, when thou refused to let the angel of the covenant go, without a blessing? Where that life and fervour, that neither the darkness of the night, nor the light of the day could prevent; but both were witnesses of it? Where that breaking of soul, that God would shew me his glory? And where that zeal and activity in the service of God? O my soul, where that holy violence; that pressing into the kingdom of heaven; that new obedi|ence; that unwearied diligence in the duties of religion; that self diffidence, and humbling sense of my wretch|ed depravity, barrenness and hypocrisy? O, how did these views of the divine perfection give me the most humbling sense of sin! O, how infinitely evil did sin appear! As the only evil that my soul had reason to fear. O, my soul, where that godly fear; that holy care and watchfulness, lest thou shouldst offend this most pure and holy Being, with whom thou hadst to do? Where that quick sense of the least departure from this God; and that alarm sounded in the whole soul at it? O, how did the least apprehension of an indif|ferent, careless frame rouse my soul, lest some tempta|ation should meet me ungarded! I knew I was then most in danger, when least watchful.

Never did I work with more diligence, than now. When I was most powerfully impressed with a believ|ing view, that my whole salvation must be forever as|cribed to the riches of free, sovereign grace; that there was no merit in my works; it was then I found the most powerful motives from faith, love and gratitude, to study what I should render to the Lord for all his benefits towards unworthy, unprofitable me.

Now I frequently examined my state, summoning conscience to the bar of God; adjuring it, in the name of the great God, to do its office, and bring in a true verdict. Yea, calling upon every thing, above and be|low, within and without, to witness for God, in the most solemn and awful manner; in a deep sense of the divine attributes, God's impartial justice, and infinite purity, in whose sight the wicked could not stand. Solemnly querying with my conscience to speak for

God; and, if I was deceived, to cry aloud, and be a faithful witness for God, though against me. Thus did I examine myself; and again examine my examin|ation, in the most strict and solemn manner that I was capa|ble of; with earnest prayer to God, that he would not suf|fer me to be deceived: Laying open my heart to the con|viction of his word and Spirit. And the effect of all was greater peace of conscience, and joy in the Holy Ghost.

Thus was my soul daily established in God. Every outward reproach that was cast on me, was improved, either to put me on seeing that my foundation was right, or studying how I might more glorify God, and honour the sacred profession I had made. My soul was built up under the word and ordinances of God, on which he had taught me to set a high value, as being his own institutions.

And though God has since sometimes corrected my backslidings, and hid his face for a small moment; yet his loving kindness has he not taken from me, nor suf|fered his faithfulness to fail: But has graciously led me along by still waters; and in green pastures has he caused me to feed. His rod and his staff have com|forted me. In and by every affection, he has taught me his tender care over me. In every cross and dis|appointment, he has, sooner or later, made me to adore his wisdom, and see his kind designs of love and mer|cy. And though he has sometimes called me into the field of battle; yet has he harnessed me for the battle, and fought for me. Innumerable evils have compass|ed me around. Satan, the world, and my own wick|ed, deceitful heart, all combined to devour me quick; yet his arm alone has sustained me. Even when every refuge failed, and my faith was ready to stagger, my extremity has been his opportunity, He has never left me unsuccoured or without relief.

After I had enjoyed great peace in my soul, and had sat under the droppings of the sanctuary of God with vast delight, he was pleased awfully to bereave me of both my ever dear and Rev. Pastors: Which was a very sore affliction: Yet, under this trial, he taught me much by what I experienced.

Then was he pleased to visit me with many and great bodily disorders, whereby I have been often brought, to appearance, to the gates of the grave; and every outward comfort of food or physic rendered a terror, and an aggravation of my pain. Yet by all these things have I been taught the riches of his grace and love; and in all has he been my comforter, and my only all|sufficient refuge. How hath he borne me, and my bur|dens! And it is with pleasure that I now recount the most distressing trials of my life: For by these has God bound me faster to himself; laid me under re|newed obligations to live devoted to him, and his glory.

And when Satan has been permitted, as he has been in later years, most furiously to rally all his forces a|gainst the foundation of my hope, as to all religion: By which I have been led into the most terrible con|flicts and combats, with the united powers of hell, so that I have even chosen strangling and death, rather than an encounter with these legions of soul spirits. O, how dreadful the war! Yet, O yet, how glorious the victory, which my Redeemer has gained! How wisely has he defeated Satan, and put him to flight, and filled my soul with songs of deliverance! O, how hath he defeated every hellish plot, that has been laid for my entire destruction.

I am surely bound by the most sacred obligation to live to his glory. His right in me is indisputable. The flesh, the world, and the devil, must all give back, and own his sovereign right in and over me. His arm alone has rescued my soul from hell; and his shall be the glory. O my soul, remember the victories and triumphs of thy most kind and gracious Redeemer, over sin, Satan and the world, when they have all unit|ed for thy utter ruin. What infinite wisdom, what al|mighty power, what irresistible grace, what glorious goodness, what uncontrollable sovereignty, and what amazing condescension, have been displayed towards thee! Can I, O, can I, ever forget the loving kindness of the Lord, and slight his tender mercies! How had my faith utterly failed, had not the unseen arm of Je|hovah sustained it! How often have my hopes been at

the lowest ebb, when speedy relief has been brought to me!

And how often, when my sin and folly has exposed me to the rage of hell and the malice of men; yea, to my Saviour's severe rebukes, as well as to my own ac|cusing conscience, has Jesus engaged for me, and deliv|ered me from all my fears! How slow has his anger moved! How swift his grace! How innumerable are these instances!

How tenderly has he been untwisting my heart from the world, to which it has clinged! How much wis|dom has he ever manifested in all the methods he has taken with my rebellious heart; and made me to adore it, in some of the forest trials. How has he conde|scended to instruct and teach me; kindly showing me, wherefore he did correct me; as though he would not suffer me to suspect his kindness. O unparalleled good|ness! Thou, Lord, hast been my refuge, my support and comforter, in every time of trouble. And in al|most every trial and affliction have I vowed to the Lord, that if he would then deliver me out of my dis|tress, I would use my most studious endeavour to trust more firmly in him. And he has, sooner or later, brought me to cast my cares and burdens on him; giv|ing up every, even the most minute concern of mine, to his allwise disposal. And on every deliverance have I been led to renew the sacred engagements which I have made in distress.

And now I am no more my own. I am the Lord's by all the bonds and obligations of a rational, redeem|ed, devoted creature. God has been long teaching me his absolute right in me, and all my services and enjoy|ments; that I can call nothing my own; that he has a sovereign right to these, as the creator and bestower of all; and by my own most voluntary surrender of all to him; renouncing, in the most solemn manner, all hope, expectation, and desire, from the creature, and choosing him alone for my portion, desire and delight.

And as it has been the ardent desire, the importunate request, and the grand pursuit of my life, to lay up all my good in God, and receive all from him; so I now

find an habitual disposition of soul to rest, in a measure, satisfied with all his dispensations towards me. And, through grace, believing I am his; that I have a cove|nant right to that most gracious Being, who doth all things according to the counsel of his own will, which are for his own glory: And in full agreement with this is the highest good of his chosen people: And having a thousand, and a thousand times solemnly sub|scribed to these terms: That his will and his glory may have the governing influence and disposal of me, and all that relates to me: I have esteemed it my high|est felicity thus to have myself, and all my actions and concerns disposed of. And, now it is my joy and crown of rejoicing, that it is and shall be so, by the firm and unalterable decree of him who cannot change.

And this belief I find powerfully prevailing to rec|oncile me to all the divine dispensations of provi|dence. For, when the glory of God is my highest end and desire; and I firmly believe that God, who has the ordering of all my affairs, has this in view; namely, his own glory, well may I rejoice: For I have nothing to fear. He has infinite wisdom to direct, and almighty power to effect what he pleases: And there|fore can never fail of his purposes. All his dispensa|tions towards me, I would always realize, as the result of infinite wisdom and eternal counsel; and therefore most perfect. And, though my proud rebellious heart dare rise up in opposition, and impiously call in ques|tion his ways; yet, through grace, I never leave strug|gling, until the conquest is gained, and my soul submits to the scepter of Jesus, and signs its former engagements.

And this conquest is his. It is he who exerts his al|mighty power, and subdues my remaining corruptions; or I should never overcome. All the glory is his, forev|er his: For, without him, I cannot do any thing. I still find such remains of sin in this depraved heart, that were it not for the prevailing intercession, and daily interposition of the great God-Man-Mediator, with the Father, and against Satan and my own wicked heart, I should despair of ever gaining the victory. But, thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ, who giveth the victo|ry.

And through him I hope ere long to receive the end of my faith, the salvation of my soul; the open vision and full fruition of this best of Beings. When sin and Satan shall no more defile and vex my weary soul. All these fiery conflicts shall then be remembered with endless acclamations to Jesus, my only almighty Saviour. To him, to him alone, shall all the redeem|ed ascribe the glory of their salvation. Thine, O my eternal, incarnate God, shall be the praise. And now, what wait I for? All my expectations are from thee, and all my hopes are in thee. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen and Amen.

SECTION III.

Containing extracts from her Dairy, of different dates.

THE following paper is transcribed and inserted here, as it was written in her youth, when she was but sev|enteen years old, and expresses the views and exercises which she then had; and affords admonition and instruc|tion, especially to those young persons who shall read it.

Oct. 25, 1748. I am just now entering into the eighteenth year of my age. And does the tempter tell me, that I chose religion when I was a child, and knew no better; when I knew nothing of the pleasures of this world: And that it may be, when these enjoyments and pleasures appear delightful, I shall forsake strict and solid religion, and run with the young giddy mul|titude, into the excesses of vanity? Then, O my soul, sit down again, and make another deliberate choice; even now I am entering the prime of all my days: And let me picture the world with its brightest side outmost; and religion in a solitary dress; and then choose my portion. If my former choice has not been free and noble enough; come now, my soul, and make one. Let there be nothing in it mean and low; but let it be great, noble and free.

As to religion: Can I sacrifice my name, and all that the world calls delightful, now in the prime of my age;

and be accounted a fool and mad, by the wise, rich and polite world? Can I withstand a thousand temptations to mirth and pleasure; and be a despised outcast among men? Now, if I conform to the world, I shall be a pleasing object to many, and a delight to them, who now despise me. What pleasure that the world can afford shall be withheld from me, if I once give myself up to sensual pleasure, and the gratification of my whole inclination; allowing myself all that mirth and jollity, that my youthful age will now admit of? If I now give a loose to my youthful appetites, and satisfy my carnal desires; what can then deprive me of pleasure, now I am free from pain and the infirmities of old age, which might give a disgust to these pleasures. Now I have life, health and liberty. If I yield to these desires, and seek to satisfy them by a thousand new and fresh delights; take my swing in the world; cast away sorrow, and indulge self in ten thousand new pleasures; what then can cross me?

And, on the other hand, if I choose strict religion now, I may expect reproach, disdain and contempt, from the world, as not fit for common society, or scarce to live. I shall be accounted a poor, mean, ignorant, despicable creature, unworthy the notice of mortals: And, it may be, despised by formal professors, as being religious overmuch: They watching for my halting, and rejoicing at my falls. And besides, I must expect many dark and doubting hours, filled with bitter sighs and groans; denying myself, and taking up my cross; plucking out a right eye, and cutting off a right hand; daily meeting with crosses, and losses, and afflictions; and, it may be, with persecutions, imprisonment and death, with the utmost distress. While the sensual lib|ertine lives in pleasure, flourishing like a green bay tree, and has no bands in his death.

What a wide difference is here, between the strict|ly religious, and the sensual worlding! Come, then, my soul, and view them both as far as death; and now make a solemn and deliberate choice, either religion, or carnal pleasure. Come, my soul, and choose for Eternity.

Soul. Upon considering the nature and properties of each, I am brought to free and full choice. I see nothing in this pleasure that an satisfy an immortal soul; nothing worthy my notice; nothing but an empty sound. Nor can it have any part in my affec|tions, for a portion. They are but mean trifles, unfit to attract and busy an immortal soul. But religion, though it have its troubles with it; yet it hath a sacred sweetness in all. I feel an inward pleasure and satisfac|tion, which gives a relish, as it were, to this kind of re|ligious pain and sorrow.

Objector. Come, Soul, lay aside prejudice. What! Nothing in all this pleasure, to delight thee. Search a little deeper. Or what can be in this melancholy re|ligion, to allure thee to choose its ways?

Soul. I have found what it is. For in all those pleasures, the soul has no God, and no happiness, suit|ed to its immortal nature; without which, all is but a sickening trifle. Wherefore, the soul which hath God for its portion, attended with ever so much sorrow, is unspeakably more happy.

Objector. But if you indulge yourself in pleasures, and strive to divert your company with mirth and jol|lity, you will gain the esteem of many, and they will greatly prize you, and seek your company.

Soul. I value the approbation of the most high God, before all the esteem of poor mortals; and delib|erately make choice of him, and his way of strict relig|ion, for my portion, pleasure and happiness.

I do now, with my whole soul and all my powers, choose God for my portion; taking his cross as well as his crown; esteeming the sorrows of religion great|er riches than the pleasures of sin; looking on it a pleasure to be crucified with Christ. I despise every worldly enjoyment, compared with one smile from the lovely Jesus. I do, with my whole heart and soul, choose God and religion, though it may be through a sea of sorrow and distress, rather than the world in all its pomp and splendor, with ten thousand enjoyments. O most great and glorious God, I now choose thee as my sufficient, and every way suitable portion. I sol|emnly

take God, the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, for my all, in life, death and eternity; and resign myself, soul and body, into thy hands. And I take all the ho|ly angels in heaven; and even the Most High God, the possessor of heaven and earth, himself, to witness that I DO.

And now, Lord, I am thine. Do with me as thou wilt. I am thy clay, feeble, helpless, and hope|less. I throw myself, soul and body, life and health, liberty and pleasure, on thee, the boundless, infinite fulness of heaven, the immutable God. Lord, God, Father, Son and Holy Ghost, I this day and minute subscribe with my heart and hand, to be the Lord's. Even so, Lord Jesus, Amen and Amen.

SUSANNA ANTHONY.

Now I have again made my choice. A choice which, I trust, I shall stand by throughout eternity. And a|midst ten thousand flattering temptations, I refuse them all, and esteem it greater pleasure to mourn for sin, and mortify one lust, than to indulge a thousand. I now despise all youthful vanities, and sensual gratifications; and choose a life of self denial, resolving henceforth to take up my whole and entire delight and happiness in God, in the way of holiness; at whose right hand are rivers of pleasure, and that forevermore.

And now, let me consider those objections against religion. What is that applause, which a carnal world can give? Nothing but what is too mean to influence and actuate a truly noble mind. Mortal flatteries die with mortal worms; and cannot live beyond this dung|hill earth. Besides, Truth hath said, "The friendship of the world is enmity with God." And it cannot be set in competition with the approbation and favour of Jehovah, the great eternal Sovereign of heaven and earth. And, should I indulge my carnal desires, what peace and joy would tormenting conscience afford, amidst these vanities? How often have I seen such persons, as soon as they had a moment to reflect, ready to run wild; nor dare long to reflect. Surely their pains have been more than their pleasures. But, suppose I

could still the perpetual sting of conscience; are all those vanities commensurate to the desires of an immor|tal soul? Can I have such mean, such sordid, base, vile thoughts of that immortal spirit, with which the great almighty Creator hath invested me, as to think such mean trifles can suffice a never dying soul, which must exist, as long as God himself? Surely there is nothing but an infinite good that can satisfy its boundless crav|ings. It is horrid barbarity to feed it on such insipid husks, since it is capable of immortal boundless delights in God.

And what are these mighty frights in a life of relig|ion, which should affright a truly great and immortal soul, since the joys only are real, lasting and perpetual? Who shall dare to inscribe Eternal on any of the sor|rows of a religious life? What is any sorrow, reproach or disdain, that admits of God to be the portion of the soul? What if I be despised as poor, mean and igno|rant, not fit for society, if Christ be mine? He is rich, great, full of wisdom and knowledge; and in him I may be complete, who is the head of influence. And what greater honour can a mortal have, than to be a child of the King of kings and Lord of lords. God shall honour the soul with his presence. He will conde|scend to reside and dwell in the gracious soul: A guest infinitely preferable, as his nature is transcendent.

And as to dark and doubting hours, some of these may proceed from my own sin and folly. But, as far as they are sent from God, they shall only prepare me for immortal joys, and make heaven the sweeter, when I arrive there. These shall make my soul shine bright|er, and add new lustre to my glory. These shall all be remembered with joy, and every tear be put into a bot|tle▪ and add to my crown of joy and triumph.

As to denying myself, and taking up my cross; when it is to follow Jesus, it should be most pleasant: For his yoke is most easy, and his burden light to the soul that truly loves him. And will not such a soul most freely and cheerfully pluck out, tear off, and crucify that which has wounded his Lord? I should count nothing too dear to part with, for my Jesus, since he

hath not, for me. Whatever I do out of love, is sweet; and he rewards it a thousand fold with the consolations of his blessed Spirit.

In fine, as to all crosses, and losses, and afflictions; whatever I lose for Jesus, is gain. If I meet with crosses, I know they come from a compassionate God; and so will surely be for the best: And he cannot wrong me. If I give myself to him, he has bound himself to be my God; which implies in it the utmost blessed|ness: And had he not bound himself, I trust his love would do it. The loss of all things, even life itself, shall be a happy gain, when the soul finds God. Let afflictions, persecutions, imprisonment, and even death come, if Jesus stand by, and strengthen, I am not afraid I shall suffer too much by or for him. All my care is, that he may strengthen me to endure the last extremi|ty: For without him, I know the flesh will shrink back, and I shall indulge that carnal principle of ease. But God hath said, As thy days, so shall thy strength be; and, My grace is sufficient for thee. How sweet is it for the soul not to count the life dear, and to resist unto death, for Jesus and his truth! O, what a truly noble soul does it discover in a christian, to wage war with hell, earth and his own heart; and sight against all, rather than be overcome by them, and made a slave to his base, sordid lusts!

And O what will be the result of these noble acts! Why, he has the promise of eternal life. And he shall surely have his reward. The great Redeemer will re|ward every pain and sorrow of his soul with eternal consolation. Not a reward of merit: No; it shall be the soul's joy and crown to receive all of free grace. The soul shall be caught up into immortality; O the amazing transport! And filled with the fulness of God; O vast, unutterable joy and surprise! Surround|ed and swallowed up in God; O immense delight, admirable pleasure, and unspeakable consolation! To swim (if I may so speak) in the unfathomable ocean of the divine perfections. O high and exalted happiness! Boundless boundless glory! This path of vital relig|ion leads to the full enjoyment of the blessed God. It

is a path which shineth brighter and brighter, to the perfect day. Then, if I am truly religious, but a few struggles more, and I shall be swallowed up in immor|tality, and satisfied in immensity.

O ye dear christian souls, who know me! but a few groans more, and I shall be beyond your pity; all swallowed up in the embraces of my dear Redeemer; where no sin shall ever vex my soul forever. You, my friends, who may know me here sometimes in adversi|ty, shall, after a few gasps more, and pantings for strength against sin, know me so no more. For I shall be satis|fied, when I awake in his likeness; but never fully un|til then. There pleasures are ever new; grasp as much as I will, it is God, infinite still. Let me be as full as I can, or dive deep as I will: yet it will ever continue to be God incomprehensible, God incon|ceivable, God unbounded, God full and unsearchable yet, and yet, through eternity.

O let rolling time fly more swift. When shall I drop this clog; and this mortal put on immortality! When shall I once see this God! Do children long to|see a father; and may not I indulge the desire? O when shall I behold his reconciled face; never to leave or grieve him more! When, O when shall it be! O that I might glance a look towards him, the center of my soul, and find myself loose and free from this clog of mortality! But heaven forbids complaints; and de|mands my will, with all my powers and faculties. And here I resign the number of my days to God. Yet humbly beg to be indulged in this desire to see my Sa|viour God, where, free from sin, and perfect in holi|ness, and filled with the blessed vision and fruition of God, I shall have no want forever. O blessed state!

But what, O what shall be the result, to the souls which have drank deep of the pleasures of sin! They must drink deep of the cup of the fury of the Almighty; even the dregs of the cup of his wrath shall be wrung out to impenitent sinners. They must drink to their eternal confusion. They must have devils for their companions; gnashing their teeth for very anguish and horror. The mighty hand of Jehovah will crush their

defenceless souls to all eternity. O soul confound|ing thought! They shall be separated from the glori|ous God, never to enjoy a smile from him. And I am sure there can be no rest; but inconceivable horror. For the soul to be, and yet to be separated from God, the centre of fecility, is intolerable anguish. To be eternally excluded from God, implies all that is miser|able and dreadful. O the amazing anguish of such a soul! O may it never be my case!

SEASONS of SELF EXAMINATION.

June 18th, 1746. This day I devoted to God, in fasting and prayer, as far as bodily weakness would al|low; pleading for a degenerate world, and solemnly searching my own heart, imploring the blessed influ|ences of the Holy Spirit. I endeavoured to awe my foul with the possibility of being deceived, and the a|mazing consequence of such deception! I first exam|ined my state, by scripture marks; and, I trust, the Spirit of God could witness to the truth of grace in my soul. Then I examined my growth in grace, by marks drawn from the scriptures; and think I have comfortable ground to conclude that I do make some advances in the christian life, though I fall vastly short of what God may justly expect, and what I long for.

I have had more of a public spirit this day, than at some times. O! it has been a good day to my soul, though nature has often threatened to sink under these duties. The body has been weak and sore broken, while agonizing in prayer for myself and family, the church of God, the town, the land in which I live, the nation, and whole WORLD, especially Heathens, and Jews. O, how sweet the day while I spake to JEHO|VAH, as my most intimate friend! Adorable conde|scension! Return unto thy rest, O my soul, for the Lord hath dealt bountifully with thee! Blessed be God for his rod; how dear the sweet scourges that have quickened my too slothful pace! Welcome, my fa|ther, thy chastening hand! Purged I must be; take what way thou seest best.

April 3d, 1748. And now that I have searched and researched my heart again, and again, I can draw no other conclusion, but, that God has wrought a work of grace on my soul, by the convictions of his Spirit, and the work of faith and sanctification. I have had such conviction of sin as led me to loath and abhor myself, utterly despairing of help from any other but God on|ly; lying at the feet of a sovereign God; willing to ac|cept of mercy on any terms; and being convinced of the worth, power, willingness and allsufficiency of the Divine Redeemer, both in himself, and as appointed by the Father to save sinners: I say, from a powerful dis|covery of this glorious, all amiable Saviour, as revealed in his word, I was brought to a free and full choice of him as my only Lord and Saviour; resting on him for life and salvation, believing there was complete re|demption in him. I believed him just such a Saviour as I, a poor fallen miserable creature, needed, every way suitable; and having made the flight, of a most distressed burdened soul to Christ, I found, according to his promise, rest. In this way, my daily peace is continued; and this faith works by love, love to God, his ways, works, and word; also to his children, es|teeming them the only excellent of the earth.

And now the hope which I entertained, of eternal life, has been a most prevailing motive with me to pu|rify myself, conforming me to the divine will: And thought to my shame and confusion I remain very un|like God, unholy, ungrateful, covered with sin. yet ho|liness is the desire of my soul. I choose any, even the most sharp afflictions, rather than sin; and more impor|tunately long for a release from this, than from the greatest affliction I can bear. My soul doth long for God, and the full enjoyment of him, more than for the greatest, yea, more than for all temporal good; and while I am weak, feeble, and faint all the day, yet I can rest rejoice in God, more than when at ease and in health without him.

And now, the daily experiences of my foul, hope, desire, delight, rest, satisfaction and center of my heart, do evidence to me that I have in deed and truth, been

born again, and that Christ is indeed my chosen Redeem|er. Now, surely, if I am deceived, it is a most awful deception; which abides the strictest trial! But O, my God, I think it is no delusion; I must believe it a real work of thy grace on my heart; I think thy word does warrant me to draw this sweet conclusion! O, the freeness of sovereign grace to the most unworthy! Well might I now stagger, were it not for the infinite merits of the great Redeemer! It is this, gives me the utmost confidence, and assurance. It is purchased re|demption, and yet it is free; yea, the very purchase, ex|alts the freeness. O, the adorable mystery of godliness!

Sept. I am called the ensuing day to sit down at the dear Redeemer's table; but, O my soul, is this indeed thy Redeemer? Now I would be solemn. O, search and try me, thou all knowing God! I know there is much amiss in my soul; much darkness▪ deadness, car|nality, hypocrisy and enmity, yet lurking in my de|praved soul; can this propensity in me to sin, be the spot of the child of God? O, thou omniscient Jehovah, suffer me not to be deceived in this matter. I cannot bear the thought of being deceived here, and stripped of God at last, as my covenant God! I would try my title as long as life doth remain, and as long still strive that there be no flaw in it. O, do I not detest and ab|hor every inclnation in my soul to sin? Lord, is it not the greatest burden of my life, that I do not love, serve and enjoy thee more? Do I not long more, for the full enjoyment of thee, and for perfect conformity to thee, than for all temporal good? O, come thou be|loved of my soul, for I desire none but thee: O, come and meet me at thy table!

Now I have endeavoured to examine my state, and trust I have, really, scriptural evidences of my interest in Christ; and although the heavens look black and cloudy, yet with sweet confidence and composure I can rest my soul on thee, and call thee my God, my almighty friend, and father! O, glorious, purchase; O, divine benefits, secured to me by the Holy Spirit, applying to me the death and merits of my dearest Lord, and only Redeem|er, in whom is all my confidence, living and dying.

July, 1749. O, God, thou God of the spirits of all flesh; who searchest the hearts, and triest the reins of the children of men; from whom nothing is hid, no disguise can deceive thee; thou surveyest the most hidden and secret recesses of my soul, and perfectly knowest all my aims and ends. I may deceive my|self, and others, but I cannot deceive thee. With thee, is infinite light and knowledge. It can yield me no comfort that I have great and high hopes of my safe estate, nor that many eminent christians have had the strongest confidence of me, if thou dost disown me!

O God, I tremble to hear of the high hopes, which many have of me. O, what an aggravation must this be of my misery, if I should be rejected of God. What I have now heard, shall put me on the strictest inquiry, for it is in the favour of God, through Christ, my only happiness and security lies. Nor can I be satisfied with the approbation of poor, imperfect, short sighted mor|tals; such are the best of saints in this imperfect state. God only knows my heart, and to him alone will I go for light. O thou impartial, heart searching God, I come to thee for a clear discovery of the state of my soul. O Lord, my God, it can be no profit to thee that I be deceived, and so perish with a lie in my right hand. No, this is what thy soul abhorreth. Thou desirest truth in the inward part; and hast commanded me, to examine myself, and to know myself. O then assist me herein. Lord, I am utterly insufficient for so great a work, and shall never attain to a clear, and true knowledge of this important point, except divine light arise in my soul, and remove all prepossessions of prejudice, for, and against myself.

O, eternal Jehovah, is my title to eternal life sure? Have I the certain marks and temper of thy elect in Christ Jesus, who shall never be made ashamed of their hope? Upon the strictest searching, and researching, that I can make, by thy word, I still conclude it is thus with me, in some good measure; but methinks I want the further fealings of the blessed Spirit; and I want to be bound yet faster, on my part, to God; I want to be

so wholly and entirely thine, that I may never swerve from thy law.

I have a comfortable hope, yea, at some times, a tri|umphing one, or full assurance; yet, I seem to long for an absolute certainty, which will not admit a possibility of being deceived! But, if this is unattaina|ble, in this imperfect state, I thirst and long for that open vision of thy face, when clasped in the arms of an al|mighty, faithful God, I shall know, with a perfect knowl|edge! Until then, I will not content myself with my own slender hopes, without full assurance: Nor with the high|est hopes, of the most eminent christians for me, without the gracious witness of the Holy Spirit, with his word.

O God, thou fountain of being and blessedness, in whom I live, move, and have my being; from whom I receive every mercy; without thy favour, I am undone; with|out thy loving kindness, through Christ, my very be|ing is a burden and terror to me. I enjoy myself on|ly in the enjoyment of thee; and cannot look on my|self, or any of my enjoyments with delight, pleasure, or satisfaction, but in relation to thee, as being in cov|enant with thee. Lord, may I not appeal to thee, who art truth itself, and wilt judge me according to truth, that I have, and do, abandon all the delights and en|joyments on earth, for thy favour; and can, and do, rest satisfied in that alone, as a sufficient portion for my soul. Witness my resolute discontent with all things here below, when thou refusest to grant me satis|fying rest in thyself! Witness my entire satisfaction and rest in thy favour, through Christ, when thou con|descendest to display thy perfection to my soul, and my interest in Jesus, the Son of my thy love, in the absence of all things else; yea, in the most distressing outward trials of life. Methinks thou hast sworn, according to my request, that nothing but thyself shall satisfy me; even so, Lord Jesus, Amen and Amen!

Lord, let nothing delight me, without thee. I know no other good, but thee; and will have no other rest, or delight, but God in Christ, as the centre of my soul. Let me never live to see the time, when any thing be|side, and without God, shall satisfy my soul.

Again: Witness my daily and constant desire to leave the dearest enjoyments on earth, for the full fru|ition of thyself in glory! It is long since I have utter|ly refused to entertain any pleasing prospects of world|ly enjoyments, that would not vanish at the call of my Redeemer, to leave the world, and go to be with him. I think, the highest delights that earth can offer, can|not make me desire life. It is thy will only, O my God, that makes me rejoice in living. O, when shall I be holy. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Sept. 10th, 1749. Blessed be God for Jesus Christ, the means of grace, sanctuary liberties in particular. I bless thee, O my God, who hatch called home my wan|dering thoughts this day, while in thy house, and fixed them on thyself! O, how sweet it is to have my soul engaged with God in holy duties!

I bless thee for those comfortable evidences I had of my being prepared to meet Christ, at his coming, by a true faith in him, and conformity to him. Lord, though I find great want of conformity to thee; yet, on the strictest search this day, I find great reason to adore thee, for the great things thou hast done for me. My soul doth bless and magnify thee, O my God, for the work of thy grace; yet, Lord, I pray I may not be de|ceived herein. O search and try me, thou best of be|ings; let me not be deceived, and so banished from thy presence at last. This, I cannot bear! I entreat thee, by all the beneficence of thy nature; yea, by thy very being, which is benevolence itself, "for God is love," that thou suffer me not to wander from thee, but fill me with thyself. O, if I should be cast away from thee at last, how inconceivably great must my misery be; a misery, that nothing can equal. From the hope I have entertained, of enjoying thee, I have endeavoured to place all the affections of my soul on thee, and aspire after the highest and noblest ideas of thy perfections: Should I be banished at last, from this on|ly desirable good, after all my raised expectations, what, ah, what, could equal my irreparable loss! My God, I know not how to bear the amazing shock of such a supposition! O, my soul, rouse up and secure thy title

to the favour to God, by faith in Jesus Christ his only Son, and the only Saviour! And now let me devote my whole soul to God, and never rest, until I arrive at the full enjoyment of him!

April, 1751. I hope I have most solemnly entered into covenant with God, and renewedly chosen him as my everlasting portion, devoting myself entirely and unreservedly to him. And his I did, in the bloom of life, before the evil days came, or the years drew nigh, in the which I should say, I have no pleasure in them. I did it in the strength and vigour of life and health, the prime of my age. This body was then young and ac|tive; this soul was lively in all its intellects. I did it, not in a sudden fit of fear and distress; no, it was the most deliberate and rational part I ever performed. With all the faculties and powers of my soul, I freely, reso|lutely, cheerfully, and unreservedly, entered into this covenant; and, now, though it be far otherwise with me, yet I stand by my choice. Lord, I am fixed; THOU ART MY CHOSEN PORTION! And, now I find my|self greatly impaired, both in body and mind; my body is subjected to disease, pain, and great weakness; my mind disordered, confused, shattered, and weak; foreboding dark and dismal events, as though I should soon be deprived of my reason, and rendered entirely useless, both to myself and others; yet, I am the Lord's, body, soul, and spirit; and I rely on thee, O God, to take care of thine own, in all circum|stances and conditions of life. I know thou art able to keep what I have committed to thy trust against that day.

I am, now, recollecting myself, and summoning up all the powers of my soul, to a renewed choice and sur|render. Possibly, this may be the only space I may have granted me, for this work. O, then, ye scattered, confused thoughts, unite, be fixed and solemn! And, O ye immortal powers and faculties of my soul, exert your utmost strength and vigour, in the solemn trans|action. Ye depressed graces, break through these clogs; be lively and active. Flee, ye diseases, and let me have a moment's rest and composure, for this de|lightful work. Come, thou blessed Spirit, with thy

needed influences, and prepare and assist my soul, in this solemn dedication!

March, 1753. Came, O my soul, examine thy title to eternal life. Thou hast strong hopes; but, are they good? Will they stand in the day of trial? Will they endure the amazing horrors of a death bed; or will they stand in the last great decisive day, when God shall judge the secrets of men's hearts? It is one thing, O my soul, to hope, when all things appear fair, and pleasant; and another, to believe, and remain stedfast, when clouds and thick darkness overspread me! Lord, it is thy Spirit alone that must undeceive me, if I am deceived; for, I cannot find out the deception, after all my searchings. Unto God will I look. O, do thou discover my state to me! Thou knowest how un|shaken my confidence remains, after all my examina|tion; yet I will still inquire. And, now, what choice have I made? O, Searcher of hearts, and Trier of reins, thou knowest, that from the strictest search I am able to make, this is the answer: God, his glory, and the enjoyment of him, as my only felicity! In this choice I am fixed. I have chosen God the Father, for my covenant God and father: God the Son, for my only Saviour, Lord, and King: God the Holy Ghost, for my sanctifier and comforter: God's law, word, and will, his people, his interest and cause, and all that is his, to be my sweetest interest, dearer to me than life itself.

July 15th, 1754. What means this depression of spirits? Have I not assuredly anchored all my hopes of eternal life on the merits of Jesus Christ, the only media|tor of reconciliation between God and fallen, sinful, mis|erable man; in whom the great Jehovah hath declar|ed himself well pleased, and accessible? Have I not searched, and researched, with the utmost diligence, into this matter? And, did I not always find sweet and comfortable evidence of faith and love unfeigned? And, do I now find any sufficient ground to doubt? Verily, I do not; unless it be matter for doubting, that I am longing and thirsting after God, the living God; and that nothing can satisfy my soul, but light and life

from him; and my whole soul is reaching out after him. Surely, this is not ground for doubts and fears. No: God is witness to the sincerity of my faith, and love, and every grace, which he has been the author, and will be the finisher of. Fear not, O my soul; God, the immutable God is thy refuge, thy confidence, and will be thy eternal consolation! I have laid all my wishes, hopes, desires, and expectations, on the perfec|tions of his nature, the unchangeableness of his being, and the truth of his word; and here will I confide for|ever!

After I had written the above, I was led to meditate on the importance of being united to Christ, by a liv|ing and true faith, the worth of an immortal soul, and the weight of my eternal concerns: And, after serious examination, I prostrated myself before God, beseech|ing him, who surveyed the most secret recesses of my soul, that, if I was 〈…〉〈…〉, I might be convinced of it; that, if I never 〈…〉〈…〉 conviction of my sin and misery, never 〈…〉〈…〉 at the sect of a sove|reign God, 〈…〉〈…〉 renounced my own righteousness, 〈…〉〈…〉 Christ on gospel terms, believing the 〈…〉〈…〉 of his Son, submit|ting to, relying 〈…〉〈…〉 might then be enabled to do it. 〈…〉〈…〉 various des|criptions of faith in God 〈…〉〈…〉, brought to a renewed experience 〈…〉〈…〉 with the clear witness of the blessed Spirit 〈…〉〈…〉 so! Blessed be God, I trust I was brought 〈…〉〈…〉, sweet, gospel frame of soul, attended with a divine peace, satisfaction, joy, love gratitude, and adoration!

August 18th, 1754, I now prostrate soul and body before God, for his gracious assistance, in the solemn, important trial of my state. O God, now, O now be with me.

And what shall I now say? If faith be the flight of the convinced, distressed, self despairing sinner, to Christ, for refuge and life; if it be cordial choosing, receiving, embracing, and relying on him, as the only hope set before us in the gospel; if it be a hearty sur|render of the whole soul to him, as Prophet, Priest and

King; if it be a constant looking to him for assistance, and a constant reliance on his righteousness, and God-Man-Mediator, for acceptance with God, under the powerful conviction of guilt, depravity and wretched|ness, but universal corruption, inability to help our|selves, unworthiness that God should help us; if it be a firm trust in him, as one every way suitable for his work as Mediator, and one authorised by the Father; if it be a full, entire credit to the record God has given of his Son: And if love be that, which powerfully influences the soul to delight in the divine will, his law, his word, his or|dinances, his people, and all that is his; and disposeth the soul to submit, yea, acquiesce in all the dispensations of his providence, even when most afflictive, as holy, wise, and good; if it love, that animates the soul to the most ardent longings after full fruition, with constant desires that Jesus may be exalted▪ that self, sin, and all things else may be subdued 〈…〉〈…〉 that he may reign triumphant over all those 〈…〉〈…〉 formerly were most dear to it; if it 〈…〉〈…〉 strains the soul to examine and try her in 〈…〉〈…〉 when no in|ward fears or outward 〈…〉〈…〉 but because she would not live a 〈…〉〈…〉 near and in|timate relation 〈…〉〈…〉 or enjoyed in this life; 〈…〉〈…〉 love, to look with in|difference an 〈…〉〈…〉 most desirable objects of time and 〈…〉〈…〉 part with all, and with life itself, for the 〈…〉〈…〉 vision and fruition of him, whom she esteems 〈…〉〈…〉 amiable, the only desirable, ob|ject of love and admiration: And if it be true repentance, to abhor even the least appearance of sin, and to detest and hate every false way; to feel the most keen and sensi|ble sorrow and remorse for sin, because it is sin, and to abhor itself because it is no more conformed to the pure and holy God, and is so ungrateful to the best of beings, the kindest friend, and most bountiful benefac|tor; accounting sin the greatest affliction in life, be|cause of its own vile nature and hateful tendency, being against God, and separating the soul from this holy: be|ing, whom faith and love justly esteems altogether lovely: If this faith exerciseth itself in new obedience, power|fully

leading the soul to study and pursue all that God has commanded, in a constant, hearty, universal, prac|tical endeavour to perform every duty, though ever so difficult, because God hath commanded it, esteem|ing all God's precepts concerning all things to be right: And now, if these, though hastily drawn, be the genuine marks and evidences of a sincere repentance and obedience, which the gospel requires in all those who hope for salvation, through, the perfect righteous|ness and atonement of Christ, the great Redeemer; against whom, God hath said, there is no condemna|tion, but they shall have eternal life; those who believe shall be saved; those who love him, he will love; those who repent shall find mercy; and to those, who by patient continuance in well doing, &c. eternal life: If these things be so; and if I can, by the most strict, impartial and renewed search, find out the state of my soul; if this can be done, I must again conclude, that I have an interest in Christ, and the promises eternal life; through him. For, I trust, and firmly believe, God has, by his almighty power and rich grace, wrought these things in my soul, and is daily carrying on the work of his grace, by which, I trust, I have been ena|bled to make my calling and election sure. And I have obtained a comfortable hope, or a firm persuasion, of my interest in Christ Jesus, the only mediator and ref|uge of sinners, even by his spirit, which, I trust, dwell|eth in me. Notwithstanding this hope, which, through grace, remains unshaken, I still daily renew the trial; though there is not a deception; that I know of; but I have charged on my conscience, and put home to it in the most solemn manner; nor an evidence of grace, whether of the habit or the exercise, that I have not tried myself by, and have been aquitted of guile and approved off sincerity. And now the trial appears but a repetition of what before was put out of doubt; and a careful search after what, through grace, is not hid: Yet, as I find the continual exercise of watchfulness and examination enjoined, in the word of God, and seeing it tends to set my evidences of grace in open light, and also tends to strengthen the habit of grace, I would, by

repeated trial, endeavour to obtain fresh strength against an hour of temptation.

Through the free, rich, sovereign grace of God, I have these evidences so clear, that I can as well deny my own existence, or that my soul is immortal, or that I ever performed a rational act or exercise; I may as well doubt of these, as of the spiritual exercises of grace, which appear as real, and constant, as the acting of my rational powers; and I think I am as fully per|suaded of the one, as of the other. But, as I know I am never out of danger, and am daily liable to such darkness and temptations, as may cause me to question all the experiences of my soul, I would guard against such an hour. But, Lord, thou only knowest what trials now await me. Thou knowest how soon I may be so plunged, as that all these things will prove insuf|ficient to keep me from sinking under the pressure. Yet, by thy blessing, these may be a witness for me in a day of temptation; though nothing but thy presence can ever give me comfort. O, let thy almighty grace be then, and alway, sufficient for me!

*************** Having been brought to the gates of the grave, and really thought myself to be dying; Death approaching me in all its terrors, as an enemy to nature: And having lately seen a dear friend, who has received the sentence of death in herself, under most terrible distress of body: I am now resolving to enter upon a critical examination of my soul, to see what are my evidences for heaven.

I have, indeed, made this my practice, in some meas|ure, every day, and more especially under every sermon, so far as I can recollect, for several years, though many times with too much coldness and formality. Yet, blessed be God, I hope, for the twelve past years, I have made it the grand concern of my life, to know God and Jesus Christ, by the Spirit, and to know that I did so. I have endeavoured to get my heart awed, and solemniz|ed, by the most powerful, awakening, and important considerations, on which my eternal all depended, and, in a solemn sense of eternal things, I have engaged in this affair. And, I trust, I have had the powerful as|sistance

of the Holy Spirit to excite me to diligence, fervency, and close application in this work. And the result has been, a sweet and comfortable hope, that God has, by his word and Spirit, formed me anew in Christ Jesus: Which hope, I trust, has been raised in my soul by the witness of the Spirit, with the word, that I had the sure mark and sign of a child of God. Yet, still I have persevered in the solemn search, that, if possible, I might not be at a loss about my state, when death approached me; but that, in the solemn day, my evidences might be plain and clear.

And now, under a sense of the vast importance of having all things right in my soul, when I know it is on the verge of eternity, ready to launch out into an unknown world of spirits, knowing I can never have things too well cleared up for a dying hour, I have set myself renewedly to search into my evidences.

And, first, in general, as to a work of grace in my soul; although I cannot determine the very instant, in which a change was wrought in me; yet, from my in|fancy, I believe the Spirit of God was working on my soul. The first that I can remember of any thing, was, a concern for my soul, and this could not far exceed the fifth year of my age: And from that time God has been working in me to will, and to do, of his own good pleasure. I have seen sin to be the worst of evils; myself the worst of sinners, a transgressor from the womb. I have been convinced of the sinfulness of my nature, the corrupt fountain from whence proceeded every sinful act. My iniquities have appeared many, and greatly aggravated. My heart has looked like a sink of sin, more loathsome than the most offensive car|rion that swarms with hateful vermin! My under|standing dark and ignorant; my will stubborn; my af|fections carnal, corrupt and disordered; every faculty depraved and vitiated; my whole soul deformed and polluted, filled with pride, enmity, carnality, hypocri|sy, self confidence, and all manner of sins.

I have seen my utter inability to help myself; the absolute need I stood in that God should work all my works in and for me; the infinite justice of God, if he

should cast me off forever; my dreadful exposedness to divine wrath: And, by the powerful conviction of these things on my soul, I have been brought to des|pair of help in myself, or from any created arm. On|ly in the Lord Jehovah, was my help found. I trust, God did then bow my will, causing me to accept of mercy on his own terms. I trust, my whole soul was then made willing to submit to the most humbling, self denying terms of the gospel. Jesus was revealed to me, as the all sufficient Mediator, as the most suitable Saviour for guilty, miserable sinners: He, whom the Father had appointed, and declared himself well pleased with. O, how did infinite wisdom, grace, and love, now display themselves, in the glorious scheme of re|demption by Jesus Christ. O here, I trust, my soul felt a divine power to lay hold on this hope set before me in the gospel, and now revealed by the Holy Ghost in my heart. I saw God could be just, and the justifier of him that believed in his Son. And how was my soul swallowed up in adoring, admiring views of the divine perfections, displayed in the wonders of Redemp|tion! I trust, I was enabled to give up my whole soul, entirely, and all my concerns into his hands, to rest up|on him, and receive him, as my Prophet, Priest, and King; utterly renouncing my own righteousness, which I saw was but as filthy rags. I saw infinite se|curity, in resting on Jesus Christ. I think, I had the most rational, solid conviction of these things on my soul; and, after all my searching, and researching, I must conclude, that flesh and blood hath not revealed these things unto me; but the Father and the Son, by the Holy Ghost.

As to the fruits or effects of this faith, I find, so far as I can discern, by continued, critical observation, an habitual disposition,

First, To rest and live upon God, as the only centre of my soul. To trust all the important concerns of time and eternity with the great Mediator; and to look to him for grace and strength, to keep me near to him|self, in a constant dependence on him; renewing my choice of him for my only everlasting portion; de|voting

myself to him, to be his only, and his eternal|ly.

Secondly, To love him above all. If I love not God supremely, for himself, I am under the most fatal mis|take. And my judgment must be under the power of gross darkness, unfit to be relied upon in the smallest matter, if my whole soul does not go out after God, as the only suitable object of love and delight. Here I find the most powerful attraction! Here I see all that is worthy my regard! Hence arises my ardent desire after a perfect conformity to him; esteeming his law to be holy, just, and good; his precepts concerning all things to be right; constantly repairing to him as my only unerring counsellor, in every emergency of life; choosing he should rule, govern, and dispose of me, and every concern of mine, forever. Hence, I trust, my love to his people: As I love him, so I love all that is his, and all that appear in reality to love him. His people are my people, the dear chosen compan|ions of my life.

Thirdly, An habitual hatred to sin, as the worst, yea, the only evil; the abominable thing, which my soul truly hateth. I abhor myself, because of the in being of sin! I am necessarily unhappy, because I am a sinner. Wo is me, because of the leprosy of sin, by which I am so defiled, that I pollute all I touch! I know no sorrow like this sorrow. O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep, day and night, for this grievous hurt; this undoing sin, that so unlikens, and alienates the soul from the blessed God!

Fourthly, Yet a more confirmed habitual judgment to be the Lord's, though spiritual joys abate, and the tide of affection ebb. I find an unwavering determination to pursue to choice I have made, as the most reasonable service; conformity to God, the substance of all relig|ion. The most necessary, rational, and substantial good, that a creature can attain, is to be intentionally, and designedly devoted to God, as the chief and proper good, and his glory as the best and last end. This is true beauty, harmony, and importance!

Miscellaneous Extracts from her Diary, which she kept, and wrote in it almost daily, until June 1769, to the 43d year of her age; and is contained in a num|ber of volumes. After that time she wrote but little in her Diary: Or if she did, it appeared best to her not to preserve it.

Oct. 1744. O GOD, infinite in power, grace and ho|liness, I set apart this day to thee, for the people. Thy providence calls for deep humiliation, and fervent ad|dresses to the throne of all grace. Pity to the poor Heathen and Jews calls upon me▪ though but a worth|less worm, to use all the interest I have at the throne of grace, through my everlasting advocate, for such poor, blinded fools as they. How shall I address thee, O God, suitably▪ and so as to prevail! O, let my prayer be the prayer of faith; let me get near thee this day! Lord, I beseech thee, let me engage in no duty this day, without thee. O, be with me of a truth; and let me find acceptance with thee. Thy presence I must have, to make my duties acceptable: For with|out thee I can do nothing.

O my God, I do not sue barely for fluency of words, or strong workings of affections; but entirely for ac|ceptance with thee; to be heard for poor Heathen and Jews, and thy church, O God, I thus plead. Their case is truly lamentable, without thy pity. Thou hast awaked my compassion by their misery. Can I enjoy the precious doctrines, ordinances and power of the gospel, and be insensible of their wretchedness in their darkness and unbelief! Forbid it, O God. Let me never show such ingratitude to thee, my bountiful ben|efactor; nor such inhuman, unnatural, and cruel insen|sibility to the misery of my fellow creatures. O, pity them, my God, who cannot pity themselves. And, O thou Fountain of compassion, stir up bowels of compas|sion in thine own children, both ministers and people, for both Jews and Gentiles, that they may come to the saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. That we, being all united in that one mystical body whereof he is the head▪

may rejoice together, and bring forth abundant fruit, to the glory of thy free grace. And may thy church flourish: Thy Zion triumph in her God: Thy min|isters be as a flame of fire; clothed with zeal and suc|cess; faithful and unwearied in thy service. Let thy saints shout aloud, and live like thy redeemed, ashamed of ingratitude, and full of faith and love. Even so come, Lord Jesus, in the day of thy power. Amen and Amen.

Oct. 26th, 1744. I have now just finished the eigh|teenth year of my age. Good God! to what little purpose have I lived these eighteen years! Ah, Lord, thou hast come these many years seeking fruit; but alas! how little hast thou found! How vilely have I requited thy care! and how incorrigible have I been, under all thy cultivations! But, sure I am, these un|paralleled instances of ingratitude and rebellion have not stopped the current of thy unbounded goodness. Was ever mortal so favoured before! It is too bold an assertion to say, infinite mercy could not go beyond, considered in itself; yet, when I look on it, as relating to me, the most ungrateful, unworthy, illdeserving of all the redeemed race, the chief of sinners, and most helpless of mortals, I am ready to cry out, Never a greater instance of divine mercy! It is two years since I gave myself up to God and his church; and public|ly avouched the Lord, for my God. And, though I would lament my vileness, that I have lived so unbe|coming one in covenant with a holy God; yet, O, Lord my God, what shall I render to thee for thy pre|serving and sustaining grace; that I have been enabled to resist most fierce and otherwise irresistible assaults?

Yea, I will praise him, who has been the health of my countenance, and my God. It has been because thou hast been the health of my countenance, that it has been in any measure healthful, hitherto. Therefore will I still hope in thy mercy. O God of my former revivals, leave me not now. How many months have I passed without any sensible decline of the power of godliness in my soul? For near these two years, more especially, I trust I have made sensible progress in my

christian course. 〈…〉〈…〉 dare assert, to the honour of free, unmerited grace. To thy name, eternal Jehovah, be the glory. Thy grace hath been cultivated in my soul, notwithstanding all my corruptions. I have been admitted to near converse with thee. Thou hast made such discoveries of thyself, that I have seemed, as it were, to behold thee with open face; and, in some de|gree, to be changed into thine image. These powerful discoveries have formed my soul to a holy calm and serenity; a deep abasement; holy, solemn, humble awe of the great Jehovah; with holiness to the Lord in|scribed on all my powers; not only in holy raptures of joy, with the gracious manifestation of thy most en|dearing love; but sweetly swallowed up in the open|ing views and apprehensions of Deity. The glories of Jehovah I cannot describe; or even the sensible trans|forming power such discoveries of thyself have had on my soul.

And O, what a despicable worm did I appear to my|self, when thou waft pleased to pass before me in the glories of thy nature, and caused me to cry out, "Wo is me! I am undone! I am unclean! I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth thee; wherefore I abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes."

Yet, since thou hast been thus gracious, I entreat thee, O God, who are still the same, my almighty and faithful God, to show me thy glory. Lord, give me soul quick|ening, soul humbling, and soul reviving and transform|ing views of thyself. O Lord God, arise for my help. Entreat me not to leave thee; but suffer me, yea do thou strengthen me to a holy violence, to wrestle with thee, and tell thee, I cannot let thee go, my Lord, and my God. O, now admit me to a near converse with thee. Unveil thy perfections, so far as a mortal worm can bear. Lord, fill a finite vapour. Break in on my soul with divine power. Show me thy glory. I can|not withdraw my petition. Dear, ever gracious, all condescending Saviour, condescend to grant my re|quest. Shouldest thou now hold forth thy sceptre, and bid me ask what I would, this should be my immediate

request, O give me transforming discoveries of thyself: Show me thy glory. Amen, even so, Lord Jesus. Amen and Amen.

Nov. 5. Lord, is early piety so admirable? Is a heart early given up to God worthy the notice and appro|bation of the whole creation, as I have heard? Why then hast thou thus honoured me? Is a heart early devoted to God peculiarly acceptable to God? And do such generally receive the most endearing tokens of thy love? Why then hast thou conferred such great hon|our and grace on so vile a worm as I am? Lord, it would have been great grace, and great honour, to have been adopted into the number of thy children, at the last hour. But to me it appears superlative grace and love to be a young disciple of my Lord, a beloved John. How great an honour to be accepted, when a babe, by the King of kings! And how great the privilege to be often, more often than later converts, receiving grace and strength from God! My God, I count it an hon|our to be a disciple; but peculiarly my honour, to be a young disciple. I think myself happy, that I am a member of thy church; but peculiarly so, that I was admitted the youngest member belonging to the com|munion; the youngest member of our female society; as likewise the youngest of all my christian friends. Though some do indeed despise my youth; yet, since I know the grace of God has appeared more glorious by it, I will rejoice and glory in it, though it be an in|firmity, if thereby the power of God may be the more manifested, and he ordain praise out of the mouth of a babe and suckling.

April 28th 1745. Last night I watched with dear Mr. Helyer.* 1.9 I trust God was with me. O that God would spare his life, and restore him to health! O God, my soul is pained for thy church. O that my own life might fend off the stroke from him! How freely, for thy church's sake, could I cast myself on the mercy of God in Christ Jesus my Lord, and take his place! Not with any conceitedness of my being better prepared to

die; but purely for the church's sake, that she might be built up, and not pulled down. Lord, now in my distress I have vowed, if thou wilt spare the life, and restore the health of thy servant, then will I seek and serve thee, by thy grace, with my whole heart. I still hope in thy mercy.

May 18th. This day much sunk, on account of Mr. Helyer and the church. I find Satan besets me like a roaring lion. But I look to my good God. My dear, tempted Saviour, can succour me, when tempted. Having had, as I trust, free access to God, for the good of his church, I was led to confine it to the life of Mr. Helyer; and therefore to conclude he would surely recover. And hence I told a friend, if he did not re|cover, I should be ready to doubt of all my experiences; and whether I had ever exercised a true faith in God. And here Satan took great advantage of me.

June 1st. On the 21st of May, a sovereign and right|eous God took my dear pastor, Mr. Helyer, to him|self. And, O how do I now seem to be stripped of my guide, my spiritual counsellor! Satan has this day be|set me to disbelieve all that God commands me to be|lieve. And my having so strong a persuasion of Mr. Helyer's recovery, made me almost ready to fall under the temptation. And just as I was ready to give all over as lost; as if God was not the hearer of prayer, and my faith as well as all my religion, must be vain, this thought darted into my mind, that I would once more see if the word of God could afford any light to my distressed soul. I immediately opened the Bible; and the first words that offered to my sight, were those in John xxi. 23. "Then went this saying abroad a|mong the brethren, that that disciple should not die: Yet Jesus said not unto him, He shall not die; but, If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to thee?" Here I saw, that some mistook the words which Christ himself spoke. Yet my unbelieving heart replied, But surely these were not his children! But, upon a re|view of the words, I found the saying went abroad among the brethren. And now, O how was every ob|jection answered! Even Christ's own disciples might

mistake his expressions, and yet be disciples still: And so might I be a child of God; and yet mistake his in|timations of answering my prayers for the church's good, for his intention to preserve the life of his servant. This was such a display of divine condescension and grace, as calmed my soul, and put Satan to flight. There are, however, many things dark and intricate in this affair, which I never expect to see through, until I awake in his likeness; but then I shall be satis|fied.

June 23d, 1746. O my unbelieving heart! How long wilt thou rise in secret dissatisfaction at God's dis|posals of me? As I appear recovering from my disor|ders, I would fain think it best; cheerfully embrace life, and bless my God for it: And yet I feel a reluc|tance, even while I am writing. I am almost impa|tient for that state and world, where my will shall be entirely swallowed up in God's. I believe, for above two years, there has not been a day, if an hour or min|ute, when awake, in which, if death had come, I could have said, It is come in a day or hour wherein I have not longed and panted for it. The vanity of this world has rendered it burdensome to me. I am sure the be|witching pleasures of it have more imbittered it to me, than all its sorrows.

When I compare infinite with finite, eternal with temporal, boundless and unfathomable, with shallow nothing, I find there is a boundless unfathomable, in|finite, eternal disproportion, between those immense, immortal delights above, and those of time and sense. And is it a small disappointment, when I hoped in a short time to have been in the full enjoyment of God, and these glories; when I seemed to be on the con|fines of eternity; new glories appearing to my gazing, astonished soul, all bright, all serene, the happy haven: From these happy views, to be ordered back to earth, all dark and gloom; the cavern far from God, my life and my all in all; to grovel among the insects of this earth; the fear of a vain heart, that it will choose vanity? O, how shocking, how surprising the change! What finite spirit, though of a superiour order, would feel

no emotion, no reluctance at such a disappointment, I cannot conceive.

But come, my most noble powers, show your wisdom by a profound submission. Come, ye noble orders a|bove; ye immortal choirs, assist my soaring contem|plation; take me on your wings, and hasten the tedious hours. But in vain do I call to finites. You receive your heat from that infinite fire, and derive your light and life from a Being accessible by sinners, through the great Redeemer. Then, O Fountain of light, life and love, dart into my dark, drooping and benumbed soul, some glorious beams of light, life and love. O, make up to me, as far as possible in this distant, mortal state, the want of full, complete discoveries of thy infinite glories. I know, I know, there are soul ravishing, soul quickening, soul humbling, soul transforming discove|ries of invisibilities. These have inflamed my soul for those yet unknown glories; and yet well known by anticipation, and prelibation. O for a fresh view, while here. O my God, mitigate the darkness by in|tervening light.

June 26th. Yesterday I had a sweet morning. My meditations of God were composed and solemn. My heart was fixed and enlivened in prayer. But nature was much spent; so that I felt the effects all the day after. O, what a clog is this body! At night, after se|rious examination by my rules, I addressed the throne of grace with some little life. The blessed Spirit came, and filled my soul with a sense of the glory and majes|ty of the great Jehovah; and of the repeated af|fronts and indignities I had offered to him: Of his as|tonishing patience and forbearance, that I was not made a monument of divine wrath; a spectacle to angels and men and devils. That, after such incorrigibleness, un|der divine cultivation, both of the Spirit, providences and ordinances; all the sweet sunbeams of overflow|ing, unbounded, infinite, everflowing love, I was not bound over to suffer the strange punishment assigned to the workers of iniquity; but that God was yet acces|sible, through the glorious Mediator; my infinite need of the Mediator; my ground of strong confidence in

him; that he was surety, whom God the Father had appointed, and declared himself well pleased with. I saw myself a sinner, and dare not approach absolute perfection in any way but through a Mediator. The faithfulness of God afforded strong consolation.

Thus was I held up above nature, until on a sudden I almost fainted; and nature seemed as though it would afford no more assistance. Yet, after some struggles for breath, reviving a little, my soul remembered a de|generate world, Heathen and Jews. One never heard of this dear, sure, and infinitely sufficient Saviour, and only refuge for guilty man; and the other now saw no form or comeliness in him that they should desire. My soul could not but wrestle for these, until the body was almost life|less, and I was forced to commit my self into the hands of a faithful God; and was obliged to be helped to bed.

O, if this body were no help to my devotion; yet, if it would but keep pace with my nobler powers, I could bear it: But that it should drag down my immortal pow|ers; I could not bear it from any hand but thine, thou wise, good, gracious, just, sovereign God and Father. It seems to me I should resent it with contempt, as an af|front, should the greatest monarch on earth offer me a reprieve from those immortal joys, which are in thy presence. I receive life, and bless thee for it, only as it is the will of my wise God. Not all the creatures on earth, nor the dearest relations here, would make me willing to stay a moment, hadst thou not said. "Re|turn and live." But now, welcome this body, and this (otherwise) my hated clog, and continual burden. On these terms, the will and glory of God, whatever I receive from thee, my God, I would choose and love; as I have chosen thy will for mine, in all things.

June 30th. Glory to God in the highest, for free, rich, undeserved goodness! This day, I have, at least in heart, declared my experiences of the mercy of God, even in the great assembly of the people of God; and renewed my vows to be the Lord's; and called his saints to witness, if I forsake the Lord, in singing the 32d and 116th psalms. Scarce a word in them, but my heart went with it; and I made it my own act and

deed. O, how solemn, how sweet, how awful was the place! O, unmerited free grace! The word preached came with a divine power on my soul. I saw an infi|nite beauty and amiableness in the allsufficient God-Man-Mediator. I admire and love him, for what he is in himself, as well as what he is to me. Yea, I love his laws; his will is dear: I choose it; I place my chief happiness in a conformity thereto. Yea, and I resolve to walk before him, in the land of the living.

I said, at the close of the service, "Lord, flow let thy handmaid depart; for I have seen thy salvation." And I would be willing such a Sabbath should be my last, such moments to land me at the desired heaven.

July. Lord, I am thine; resolvedly so. It is my constant study, What shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits towards me? I look back with pleasure on all those engagements, whereby I am bound to be the Lord's. O, never let me retract those solemn vows! It is thou who hast pitied my weakness, and pardoned my most unnatural rebellion. O, infinite mercy, free grace, unbounded love, unspeakable condescension! What shall I say of God! My thoughts rise and swell. My love burns and flows, while I muse on God, in himself, and God to his creatures. O, what shall a finite, mortal worm say about, or conceive of, an in|finite, immortal object! It is high, what can we know! Deep, what can we do! And, alas! as for me, how little do I know of what may be known of this dear, immortal, essential good! Yet, blessed be God, so much I know of him, that I count all things else but dross and dung, for the excellency of this knowledge. O I long to bathe myself in this infinite fountain, and let out all my soul in God. But ah, finite, narrow, de|praved capacity, when shall you be enlarged, O when!

Nov. 17th. My soul has been much afflicted this day, and refused to comforted, because I am not al|lowed to go up to my Father's house. O, had I noth|ing to consult but my own ease, I would venture a rack of pain after it, if I might visit thine abode, O my God. But I must consult the duty I owe to body, and the dishonour I may bring on religion. O when, O when,

shall I enter thy courts above, and live the life of heaven born souls! Lord, is there no soul there, who was once as unmeet to partake of that inheritance as I am; whom thy free grace has made meet? If there be not, yet, Lord, what cannot infinite power, and free, unbounded grace effect? I know, if I ever enter the new Jerusalem, the almighty power and sanctifying ef|ficacy of the Spirit of God, must pass on my soul, to make me a meet inhabitant for that high and holy place. This, this, will not suffer my heart to object my unfitness. And, alas! my advances are so incon|siderable, that I dare not wish for months and years; but rather for glory begun, this grace made perfect. Then, O then, shall I really make advances in love and likeness to my God. O thou end of all my hopes and wishes, stand not afar off from my soul. O, let come what will, give me to behold thy face and glory, reconciled to me in Jesus Christ, and I venture all events. O, may I but enjoy this my God, and all the blackness of hell could not dismay or affright me.

Feb. 5th, 1747. Some very solemn, awful thoughts of death, this day. That vast, and, to nature, shocking separation between soul and body, those old and dear companions. That this body, these eyes, this nose and mouth, must erelong become food for worms; be cov|ered with the colds of the valley; rottenness enter in|to my bones! Here I mused; how dark the scene, while my infirm, sickly constitution tells me, it is hast|ening on me.

But directly I muse, and stretch my thoughts beyond the grave. Here I view a risen and ascended Saviour; an innumerable company of the spirits of the just made perfect; refined from all the dross of sinful corruption; dressed in the likeness to their God. Transported here, I gaze on brighter scenes of bliss, overbalancing all the gloomy prospect, arising from the horrors of the grave. For me to be with Christ, I esteem far the best.

Great encouragement this night in prayer, wrestling with God for zeal and courage to dare to be singularly good, in this corrupt world and age, in which I live, and that I might never cease making this petition, un|til

I had obtained this mercy of him; nor even until I did arrive complete in his kingdom and glory above.

Feb. 6th. Great refreshment and assistance this night in prayer; far beyond what is common for me. O, how was I held up, as it were, to heaven, to gaze on the divine glory; while the spirit of prayer and supplication was abundantly poured out into my soul: Yea, I took hold of the strength of the almighty Jeho|vah, protesting, with all reverence, I could not, I would not let him go, except he bless. O, it seems God did allow me the utmost bounds of humble boldness. I saw, by the eye of faith, the Lord, the Lord most high, exceeding glorious; myself, less than a worm. He, most holy; I, a wretched, polluted sinner. He, infi|nitely wise; and myself ignorant as a beast before him. I beheld an infinite disproportion between absolute per|fection, and imperfection itself; and yet that this God was accessible, through the blessed Jesus; and that I stood in absolute necessity of his favour, and gracious regards: And, with me, so did the whole race of man|kind.

I wrestled in an agony for this family, particulariz|ing every foul in it, even to the third generation. My soul felt their absolute need of God: And, imitating my Saviour, who, being in an agony, prayed more earn|estly, my soul was so engaged, that it seemed ready to break loose from the body. So likewise for all the children of God; for our church and congregation; for the whole town; for this land; for our nation; and for Heathen and Jews. I do not know that I was ever more, if so much, strengthened and carried out, in every petition, with such unwearied undivided im|portunity, in my life before. I said, "It is good to be here."

But I am now fully persuaded, that a few such sea|sons, successively, would burst the bands of nature. For, although I was at that time insensible of my weak|ness; yet, since nature seems as though it would sink and die. But, O, such a season would a thousand fold more than recompense me, though life should pay for it. My soul did even break with the longings I

had for the open vision and full fruition of God: But, until then, for as large measures of grace, as was possi|ble for me, a finite, mortal worm, to receive. I could not, I would not, stop my thirst beneath the highest attainment possible in this world. O, how infinitely easy did it then appear to me, for God to fill and satis|fy a finite vapour, out of his unmeasurable fulness! I longed to be filled from the fulness of God.

Feb. 7th. An abiding sweetness remains on my spirits this day, from the visitations of last night. O, how good is God to my soul! How sweet the abun|dant expressions of his grace and love to me! Verily, I would I could forever offer up my whole soul a sac|rifice of love to this God of love, for his most free and unspeakable love to our wretched race; and to me, the least of them all. Here language fails, and my mortal tongue dies, unable to utter such an unspeaka|ble mystery. O, may I live answerable to such high privileges, always under a realizing and powerful sense of such free, boundless, sovereign love! O, the height and depth, the length and breadth of this love of God, which hath stooped to regard me, even unworthy me, the least and most unworthy of all the finite race!

Feb. 8th. Abundantly refreshed; especially in con|versing with a christian friend. God was pleased to revive in me a fresh sense of his long experienced faith|fulness, while I was speaking of his infinite goodness. My Saviour, my almighty friend, seems again returning to my soul. O, I would bid my God ten thousand welcomes to my soul! And, O that christians would practise the duty of christian conference more! What a mean would this be to revive vital godliness!

Feb. 13th. O God, if I may not get satisfied in thee, now pass, I beseech thee, an irrevocable decree; O, swear by thyself, that nothing else shall satisfy me. I want none but thee; and if thou satisfy me not, I would remain eternally unsatisfied, uneasy and restless. But I know thou wilt do it. For thou hast bid me open wide my mouth, and hast promised thou wouldst fill it. O divine power, come with the command, and, behold, it is opened! Opened so wide, that nothing but thy

infinite self can fill it; and thou wilt, consistent with thy truth and faithfulness, fill it. Yea, I know thy mighty love and beneficence would incline thee to do it, had I not a promise to plead; even that love and be|neficence which first moved thee to promise, and has now begot in my soul this sacred thirst.

When shall I come, and appear before God! I would, my God, wait with patience thy time; yet, O be not offended with my importunity, which rises not, I trust, from discontent with the allotments of providence. No, blessed be God! I have friends, the most tender and kind, that the creation affords. Thy providence hath, and doth supply all my wants; so that I can say, I am full and abound: I am surrounded with goodness and mercy. And when I look around me, I know none on earth, with whom I desire to change circum|stances: Because, though I have not their wealth, I have not their cares and entanglements; and can enjoy my God without their distraction. But, I trust, the true spring of my desires is love to God, that I may behold his face and glory, and get free from this body of sin and death; where and when I shall adore, love, praise and serve this ever blessed God, to the utmost of my powers.

My God, my Father, my Saviour, my almighty Friend, my only everlasting portion, when shall I see thee in glory? O, the unutterable felicity, once to be|hold the God I love! Thou, thou art the delight of thy own infinite self, and beholdest thy own infinite perfections, with infinite pleasure; how then shall thy poor, finite worm, he filled, ravished and transported with the glorious vision! Could I see no more of thee hereafter, than now, I would be content to struggle and fight, in this field of battle. But to see the God I wish! A glance of his infinite perfections has swallow|ed up my whole soul in longings to behold with open face. What faint ideas have I of the perfections of God, in this distant land! How short my views of in|finite holiness! How low are all my conceptions of thy admirable beauty! O, for one moment's contem|plation of thee, as do the blessed above! But this I

know, would fix me eternally there. I cannot see thy face, and live. O then, let me die, to behold it. I would give my life away, for the blest vision and fru|ition of my God; and should think myself an infinite gainer. O, come, Lord Jesus, pity, pity my thirsty soul!

May 1st. God is now easing all my pain, by the sight of his blessed countenance. After a few cloudy days, he is come himself with the rod; and I have so much to do to admire him, that I lose the smart of that. Thou art welcome, O my God, thou art welcome, bring what thou wilt with thee. Come thyself, and it is well, I am happy. I have this day heard that my doctor says, he can do no more for me; signifying me incurable. I think I never did waste so fast in my life, as within these few days. But I can, yea, I will re|joice, while my God doth thus smile.

May 9th. Very weak and low in body today. This is new work. To be sick is not new to me; but dying work is new. O my soul, I never knew what dying was. O my Saviour, help me to encounter this last en|emy, death. Since thou hast taken away the sting, hence arises all my hope. The valley is dark; O, let thy rod and staff comfort me. Let there be no delu|sion in my faith.

May 10th. Permitted this day to commemorate my Saviour's dying love. And here is my comfort in death. How sweet were these words to my soul! "This is my body, which was broken FOR YOU; and this is my blood shed for your." O condescending love! Why has it stooped to me? O sovereign grace, never to be fathomed by a finite worm!

May 11th. Exercised with strong pains, amazing to nature. I sued for patience with every breath, sup|ported by these words, "Patient in tribulation;" a Christlike, childlike disposition. Shall a living man complain; a man for the punishment of his sins? O, how good is God, that I am not always held up under such extremity of pain! Verily God is gracious in all. Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him. Lord, thou art the portion of my soul.

May—. Weak in body▪ O what a solemn thing it is to die! How shall I encounter death! For soul and body to part, must be hard work. O the important hour, that hastens on me! A mistake here, can never he repaired. A delusion here, will prove everlasting|ly, eternally fatal. But, surely, my Saviour, I rest on thee for life and for salvation. I see infinite fulness in thee, for all my wants; and my heart rather fears to die, than to be dead. Yet this care I will leave with thee, my dearest Redeemer.

May 14th. I find it to be the opinion of my doctor, that I am hastening on to my great change. Blessed be God for so pious, faithful a physician. And, O, how sweet now to survey that dear, that blessed inher|itance! There is my treasure, my God, and my Christ. O infinite riches! Come, Lord Jesus, O come quickly! With an ever hasty soul would I meet the message. Transporting hour of dear release; I long for thy ap|proach. I am weary of all below; and for thee only do I wait. But, ah! methinks I find too much reluc|tance at lingering, and cannot find such a cheerful free|dom to wait God's time, though it should be months and years, as I desire. I want to be entirely resigned to stay, if it be the will of God that I should linger a|long to the utmost bounds of human life. Lord, make me to resign to thy sovereign pleasure. Yet, if it may be, O come thou quickly, my life, my Lord, my joy, my only rest and satisfaction.

May—. Much better in health. But O, with what reluctance do I meet this life! O what an unresigned soul is mine! How, unprepared to meet such a disap|pointment! Yet, O my God, I am resolved never to give over struggling, until I am fully resigned to this. Help, Lord, help.

May—. Great alteration in myself today. Disorders seem to vanish. God seems passing before me in ador|able sovereignty. When I am raised on the wing of desires, as it were, just on the entry of bliss; and joys unspeakable are opened to me, in the most ravishing prospects; my flattering disorders tell me, it was but a dream I was in: I may yet live long. O dark, O dis|mal

disappointment! How dost thou cause my late transported spirits to flag and droop! Stay, my soul, it is GOD. O adorable sovereignty! Thou wilt make me submit. Henceforth, come life, come death; on|ly let my will he swallowed up in thine, and all shall be well. I am determined, through grace assisting, that nothing shall displease me which pleaseth thee. This is my prayer, and this my purpose; let practice be the same. I may shrink at the rod, fear the frown; but still I will cling to the hand, and love the face, if both he there. Let me now take up all my rest and sat|isfaction in God, and improve all my time and talents for his glory.

Oct. 1st. Glory to God for his assistance this day: He has held up my poor weak body beyond all my expectations, through many duties. Glory to God, for that nearness of access, with which I have been fa|voured. And glory to him for that affecting sense of sin, in my confessions; and for that unreserved and re|newed surrender of myself, soul and body, to God. Now know I, O Lord, that thou art a prayer hearing God. Now I know, that not all my unworthiness can stop the current of infinite goodness; and that thou art gracious, because thou wilt be gracious. O, how hast thou triumphed over all those mighty difficulties, which seemed to be in the way. And as thou hast never fail|ed, on thy part, in giving abundant matter for praise; O let me not now fail, in my measure, in ascribing glory and honour to thy free grace. Let me now, and forever, be studying what I shall render for all thy ben|efits done unto me.

O the height and depth of that unbounded grace and mercy, which loved me out of death and destruction, into life and salvation: Yea, out of all that is dreadful, into all that is desirable. From the strictest search I can make, I must conclude that, through free, rich, sove|reign grace, I am of the number of his chosen, redeem|ed ones; in whom there is wrought, by the Holy Spirit, a free, full, hearty consent to the terms of the gospel; a reliance on Christ Jesus for life and salvation; with an entire resignation of the whole soul to his government

and discipline; a cheerful embracing of Christ, as Lord and Saviour, in all his offices of prophet, priest and king; and in all his benefits. And in the exercise of this faith, cleaving to him, and him only, hating every false way, and delighting in the way of holiness.

Now is Christ precious to my soul: I esteem him the pearl of great price; the chief of ten thousands; yea, altogether lovely, even in his personal excellen|cies, and the only suitable Saviour for me. To thee will I repair for all supplies of grace and strength. I long after a thorough conformity to thee. I love thee above all, and earnestly long to leave all to be with thee, where thou art. I love my friends, as my life; yet, I would leave both for thee, O thou desire of my soul. O, when shall I be where I shall sin no more! Never act the part of a traitor; never behave as an un|grateful enemy to the best of friends. Lord, I cannot bear to treat thee, as I too often do. O, what had I been, had it not been for thee! How wretched, how miserable! What hope towards God could I have had! Banished from God, I must have wandered an eternal exile. O my Redeemer, what hast thou done for me! Why were I not a miserable heathen? Why have I heard the joyful news of a Saviour? And O yet more, Why hath he been savingly revealed to me, unworthy me? O the freeness of this grace! O the infinity of his love! O my God Redeemer, what is it that thou hast not done for me! I were undone without thee. I have no hope but in thee: No access to God, no com|fort of the Spirit, but in and through thee. O thou best of names, and best of beings, I cannot speak thy worth; it is infinite, and needs an infinite understanding to know it.

But art thou thus infinitely great and gracious; and thousands of thousands of souls know nothing of thee, but by the dim light of ••••••ture? O send thy light and truth into the dark corners of the earth. O, let those who never heard of a Saviour; and those who now see no form or comeliness in him, fall down before his most amazing beauty. O, reveal thyself to these, and they shall confess all besides is but dross and dung. O, let Heathen and Jews see the God whom they have hitherto despised.

Feb. 1748. I am amazed that I know so little of God. Lord, I am as ignorant as a beast, before thee. I fear, whether such ignorance be consistent with a state of grace. Can I be born of God; and yet know more of the mysteries of thy kingdom? O, howev|er ignorant I am, in other respects, let me know thee, and Jesus Christ, whom to know is life eternal. Bless|ed be thy name! thou hast chosen the foolish and base things of this world. O then, let me but be able to comprehend, with all saints, what is the breadth and length, and depth height, and to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, and I will never en|vy the most capacious, learned understanding, in the whole universe, who yet knows not thee. But art thou; indeed, my God, my infinite portion; and yet I know no more of thee? O, unveil thy glories to my soul! O, take me to thyself, to the open vision; and I shall then know more of thee, than the most learned, experienced saint ever did know, in this world.

This night I was swallowed up under a sense of my ignorance, so that I knew not how to live under it. I was afraid I was too ignorant, ever to have been sav|ingly enlightened. I appeared to myself to be the most ignorant wretch the earth ever bore, scarce ration|al. But, blessed be God! in this time of great distress, he was pleased to let light into my mind, and assure me that flesh and blood had not revealed God, and Christ, and the things of the kingdom to me, so as to make me choose them before the things of time and sense.

And now was God pleased to make such discoveries of his glorious fulness to my soul, as gave me some sweet idea of open vision; and I even fainted for full fruition. O, with what importunity did I wrestle for the assimilating vision! But alas, this clog of flesh in|terrupted! I felt as if I had almost grasped invisibili|ties; and that I would hold my beloved, and not let him go▪ and that I would gaze forever. But ah this clog! I soon found nature to faint. O cruel weakness and disease, thus to interrupt my adoring soul! Had you come, and stopped me in the enjoyment of my friends, and forbid my continuance amidst ten thou|sand

earthly delights, I had not said a word: But O how cruel to interrupt my weary, thirsty, famishing soul, when just hoping to take my fill amidst such delights and glories, as were then breaking in on my soul!

O my God, am I thine, and shall it be thus with me? Shall I enjoy thee no more here? Then, O my com|passionate Savaiour, take, I pray thee, take me where neither sick nor sinful nature shall ever interrupt more. I am almost ready to say, Could one of the perfect, blessed spirits above, who have no propensity in their nature to murmur or repine, forbear to complain of such a clog as this!

Dec. 19th, 1748. I have been with a dear child of God. Saw her sick, dying, and dead. I saw the dis|tressing agonies of her soul. God hid his face, and she was troubled. Satan roared, and she was terribly afraid. Death approached her, and its horrors took hold upon her soul. O, how often was I called to her dying bed, to hear her distress! May I never forget, or lose the impres|sion of these things! I saw her ghastly looks, and heard her doleful cries. Yea, I felt her agonies. They pierced my soul. God gave me to believe that he would appear for her; and I thought I was come there to be encouraged against my own death. But, ah! I found her dying, and knew not how God was dealing with her, as to comforts. And while I was yet looking to God, she spake. God covered her head in this day of battle; and she was no more afraid. Now was her soul in|flamed, while her body was cold. My soul revived: I felt her joy. She kissed me with her dying lips; and, with smiles, expressed her full assurance of eternal hap|piness; admiring a precious Christ, till she could speak no more.

O, adorable sovereignty! I saw God in all this. It was the Lord's doing, and marvellous in my eyes. God met me in the way of his providence. He grant|ed my request, with respect to his handmaid. I was with her in her last moments; saw God's faithfulness: I saw him fulfil his word to her; the word on which he had caused to hope. And, O! may I never forget what a solemn thing it is die. How inexcusable

shall I be, if I should be found unprepared after all these things!

April 18th, 1749. O, how soon is the scene chang|ed! I was lately even swallowed up under a sense of the unbounded series of mercies, constantly flowing in on me: But now anguish and horror hath taken hold of me, so that nothing in this world affords me any real delight or pleasure. My fear and dread of thunder is so great, that I find no rest at home or abroad; but am in one constant distress, whether it be clear or cloudy, so that nature is scarce able to endure the amazing shock.* 1.10 O my God, my God, my covenant God, my Father, my rest, my refuge, my high tower, my rock of defence; for so I believe thou art to me; and therefore would cast my soul on thee, with the utmost confidence: And yet my nature is thrown into the greatest distress at the noise of thy thunder. O, shall my soul be shaken from its confidence in thee! Where then can this immortal, this distressed soul find rest? O, stay me on thyself. Let me not be afraid with any amazemept. O, com|pose me to a quite temper of mind. Calm all my fears, and I will rejoice in thy salvation. The humble shall hear thereof, and be glad, and trust in my God. O, say to my tempestuous soul, Be still, be calm, be not afraid; it is I, I, thy covenant God, and dearest Father; thy faithful God, and thy almighty Redeemer. O, speak with almighty power, and all this mighty terror shall in|stantly vanish; and sweet rest and composure shall en|sue.

O my God, contend not forever, left the spirit fail, and the soul which thou hast made. Nor let Satan take the advantage, to work on my fear, and so drive my soul from its confidence in God. This I believe he is powerfully and subtilly aiming at. O, show thyself stronger than the strong man armed. O, thou Captain of my salvation, arise for my help. I am thine, and thou art mine. I am persuaded, neither life, nor death, principalities nor power, things present, nor things to come, shall ever be able to separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus my Lord. And though Satan may, if thou permittest, terrify and distress, even to death; yet he cannot break the blessed union between Christ and my soul: And even by death, through Christ, I should be made a complete conqueror, over sin, Satan, death and hell.

Tuesday, Aug. 1st, 1749. Blessed be God for the as|sistance of the day, in extraordinary prayer for the ad|vancement of Christ's kingdom and interest in the world. I trust my soul hath, been more than ordinarily engaged for the outpouring of the Spirit; for the whole church of God militant; for the downfall of antichrist; and for the bringing in of the Jews and Hea|then. O that the savages of the wilderness may become the lambs of Christ's fold! How sweet is it to be united in spirit with a number of God's dear children, at one and the same time, for one and the same glorious interest, even the advancement of our Redeemer's kingdom in the world! Though absent in body, yet united in spirit and interest: O may we lift up holy hands, without wrath and doubting. O grant the unity of the Spirit, which is the bond of peace. O may God hear our prayers! Let our request find a gracious acceptance. Fulfil thy promise to thy Son; and let he glorious things spoken concerning thy Zion be soon accom|plished, to the glory of thy eternal name, and the good of thine elect.

April 16th, 1750. O my God, when wilt thou come unto me, and release my weary soul? Thou hast now taken a dear saint from her knees to glory. She often told me her fears and tears; but thou waft the guide of

her youth, and the staff of her old age. She is cut down as a shock of corn, fully ripe; a lovely pattern of piety. I knew her humble expressions of herself; great self diffidence and raised hope in the dear Re|deemer. And now God has distinguished her by her death: She was found dying, on her knees, at prayer. Blessed is that servant, whom his Lord, when he com|eth, shall find so doing. O, methinks, perhapt her soul was kissed away. Her clay vessel, unable to bear the weight of divine love, burst out with beams of joy un|speakable, and full of glory. Did not God, while she was in prayer, give her such lively views of himself, such a ravishing prospect of infinite glory? Did he not draw aside the veil, and let her behold him? O, me|thinks I hear her crying in an ecstacy, "I cannot see thee, and live: Let me die, that I may behold thee, as thou art." O, methinks I see her drink in and gaze, until she had even forgot to live. O blessed death! O sweeter life! There, seeing God, I trust, she is sat|isfied.

O, when shall I follow her! I long, I long to rise, and dwell above. How long, Lord God, holy and true, before I hear the summons and drop this clog of earth? Ah, how am I pained at this distance! This frail body unfits me for every duty. My soul cannot rise and sing. Darkness, fears and pain fetter my soul in its most lively efforts. O, come, my dear Saviour.

July 3d, 1750. Exceeding terrible thunder and lightning last night. But, blessed he God, I did not feel those distressing agonies which I used to feel. I believed my God gave each clap of thunder its com|mission. O what shall I render to the Lord for so far composing my soul, and preserving the whole house and family! O, for more light, life and love!

This afternoon hard thunder again. But, blessed be God, I was in no distress. O, how good is God to me in this, as well as in every distress!

July 8th. Had little or no sleep last night. Rose very early. Went to town.* 1.11 It was extreme hot; all which, with a slothful, wicked heart, did much unfit

me for public worship. Yet, blessed he God, after meeting, I was much refreshed, and my spirits much re|vived, by reading Dr. Watts's sermon on Nearness to God, the felicity of the creature. O, if I know any thing of heaven, this, this is heaven, to be near my God. There is scarcely any thing that doth so revive and sweetly refresh my soul, even when at the lowest ebb, as this. How soon do I feel the warming, quick|ening influence of such meditation! O, what can heav|en afford equal to the fruition of God! I long for heaven, for freedom from sin; and for the blessed soci|ety of perfected saints and angels; and on many other accounts; but the most pleasing, constant and abiding joy flows from the thought of enjoying God, as he is in himself, Father, Son, and Spirit, my infinitely full and allsufficient portion. O happy hour! Come, come, O come, and dawn on my languishing spirit. O come! I would fly to meet the transporting moment. But language fails. My soul swells with the thought, too big to be uttered. I must cease to attempt to ex|press my longing, and lose my soul in contemplation.

July 10th. Again my soul is refreshed with and in God. What can a finite creature wish or desire beyond rest in God? O, how inconceivable is the happiness, for a finite vapour to be filled out of God's fulness, and almost seem to clasp an infinite God in itself, as in heaven, while it stretches after this God, and enjoys him to the full! O infinite mystery! The infinite God, the portion of a finite worm; and yet not com|pletely satisfied, until it awake in his likeness. My soul stretches for God, as though it would stretch into immortality. This is the God, whose being and per|fections I have been tempted to disbelieve. O, let me see him as he is; let me see him for myself; let me love him, as he is worthy; or rather, let me love him as much as finite nature, enlarged in all its vast capaci|ties, is capable of.

O, why this distance! Why this veil between! I would gaze my life away on this beauty, and these per|fections. O infinite God, thou only delight of my soul! It is through Jesus the Mediator, by the Holy

Spirit, that I have access to the infinite Deity himself. Be not afraid, my soul, with any amazement; but be humble, humble to the dust.

Spent some part of this day in seeking God's direc|tion and blessing in regard to my proposed journey to Boston. My soul seems utterly averse to going, with|out the divine presence. Blessed be God! whether I go, or stay, I trust I have been near to God, and per|mitted to wrestle hard for his direction, with an unbi|ased affection either for going or staying. All I seem to seek for, or desire, is to glorify and enjoy God: For nearness to him is the greatest felicity I can see or desire. Therefore, I leave it with God, trusting in his faithful|ness. I will cry unto God, unto God most high, who performeth all things for me.

Feb. 13, 1751. Last Monday, Feb. 11, at night, my soul was led to contemplate the being and perfections of the blessed God. Here I stood and gazed, until all my soul was fixed with unutterable attention. O, how did, the glory of this divine, infinite, selfexisting, selfsuffi|cient Being, raise my contemplation, and draw out the strength of my soul, with vigour and ardour, to dive as far, and take in as much as a finite mortal being could contain! O, how glorious, how infinitely glorious, did the exalted, immense, immortal, incomprehensible De|ity then appear, to my enlarged, adoring soul! And while I gazed, my soul was filled with inexpressible as|tonishment at the many and great affronts and indigni|ties I had offered to this divine, infinite Majesty. O, how did my soul shrink into nothing, and less than nothing, before Jehovah, while I lay prostrate before him, and confessed my aggravated guilt, with renewed appli|cation to the blood of Jesus Christ his Son! O, how mean did all the human race then appear! Infinitely unworthy of the least regard from God. I cried, Lord, what is man, that thou art mindful of him! Man, who is a worm of the dust, that he should be capable of con|templating and enjoying a Being, who is his own infi|nite delight and happiness. O, all incomprehensible, unfathomable Divinity, it is thou, and thou only, who canst trace, and fully reach these boundless depths. In

vain my finite soul, clogged with earth, stretched after clear and full discoveries.

But, O mighty God, why hast thou thus dignified worms of the dust! Verily this is the highest felicity that human nature is capable of. God himself, no less than this infinite, selfsufficient God, whom I now behold beyond all expression astonishingly glorious (and yet I behold an infinitely small part of his fullness) the hap|piness of man! Verily my soul is here lost in wonder. O infinite goodness and love! This is a dignity, even the contemplation and enjoyment of thyself, that the most daring sons of men would never have dared to ask, hadst not thou, thou only, who waft able and will|ing, thus dignified our nature.

But here again, my soul, reaching after higher de|grees of wonder, love and delight, looked on fallen man, who had slighted and despised this dignity; and, by his apostasy, was put out of all possibility of enjoy|ing this God, by any thing he could do. Here I be|held this God providing a Mediator, even his own Son, that so all who believe in him might be brought to the full enjoyment of him, in glory. Now my soul was all engaged, and inflamed; my desire intensely reaching after the open vision and full fruition of this all amia|ble and glorious Being. My soul even broke with longing after God, my only desirable felicity.

My thoughts were very deep and fixed. I can scarce remember any season, in which I was more immovea|bly fixed and engaged. Nor could my thoughts be di|verted, after I came out of my chamber; but continu|ed very fixed, though I felt my body greatly disorder|ed and racked. Went to bed; but a violent pain seiz|ed the nerves and sinews of my head, so that I got lit|tle or no sleep.

March 26th. On Saturday the 24th, it thundered; but I felt composed, and not terrified, as I have been sometimes: But when I retired, though the thunder and lightning was over, yet Satan was permitted to work very powerfully on my fear, even to amazement. Yet I kept on in duty, rolling myself on God, through Christ; claming God as my covenant God and fa|ther;

adoring God for the sufficient security he had pro|vided in Chirst Jesus for all that do believe; appealing to God for the sincerity of my faith; of the free, full and unreserved dedication of myself to him and his ser|vice; and choice of him for my portion, Lord and king; not only when in great fear and terror, but in the most sedate and composed seasons I ever knew; as well in prosperity as adversity: A choice which flowed from a deep, sound conviction of him infinite excellency; a choice entirely free. I asserted the faith|fulness of God; triumphed in his infinite grace and love. And all this while there was the most violent conflict within; Satan opposing all those, and many more, and raising my fear to a distressing height. And thus I continued for some time, so that when I had fin|ished the duty of prayer, I found my spirits much ex|hausted, and my body almost stiff, as though it had been numb.

These are some of the distressing conflicts, with which I am frequently exercised; so that nature seems sometimes almost ready to saint under them, chiefly in secret prayer. I am forced, as it were, to do like the Jews. It is said, Every one, with one hand wrought in the work, and with the other held a weapon. O, glory to God, who does thus uphold me, that I am not quite overcome by these powers of darkness! O, when shall my soul be at rest in this God! I long for a happy re|lease. Yet I submit to thy will: Only afford me thy strength and gracious presence, that I faint not, nor be outdone. O, let not Satan get the advantage against me. O, glory to that God, who has stood by me, and defeated the subtle policy and malice of those com|bined legions that have risen up against me. Surely I was no match for one of these, had not Jehovah appear|ed for me.

O then, my soul, be not dismayed: Be resolute, and resist in his strength, which has been made perfect in thy weakness. Let not these fore combats discourage thee; but rather encourage to trust and fight under the Lord Je|hovah. Perhaps thou art near thy journey's end, that Satan rages thus. O, droop not, then, at the end of thy

race. Wilt thou ingloriously desert the cause of God? It is not unlikely that Satan has reserved the most vio|lent assaults to the last. But will that God, who hath never left me in one instance, unsuccoured, or unre|lieved, now forsake me? No, surely no. O then, my soul, fear not, though Satan strive to shake thee. Sometimes he would suggest, God is not such a Being, at I have apprehended him to be; and that there is no security in the gospel way of salvation, by Jesus Christ, to venture an immortal soul on. Again, he would persuade me there is no reality in religion; the work of grace on the hearts of God's children, in re|generation and sanctification, is nothing real; that there is no real change in these. And then he proceeds to deny all revealed religion; and then the Being of God. Thus doth he strive to ruin my soul. But blessed be God who doth fight for me.

Mach 29th, 1751. Fain would my heart aspire af|ter God, and rise above all earthly and sensible ob|jects; but I cannot, I cannot; I am drawn down and held by such clogs and fetters. My bodily disorders are such that I cannot fix my heart on any thing long: Not on any thing, either worldly or religious. If it were only in religious matters, I might well fear it were in|deed owing to the disorders of my heart. But it is the same in every concern of life. A little fixedness and intenseness quite oversets me. O when shall my soul be free and active! When shall it no more be clogged with this burden of mortality! O when! My God, I long to get near thee. I long to reach a more noble and exalted height of life and fervour. I long to get above the sun, and sing among the heirs of glory, those birds of paradise. There, transported, I shall see the God I love; see him, in the sight of whom, I hope to enjoy unbounded felicity: And seeing him, I hope to be like him, conformed to his image. O blessed vis|ion! O endless fruition! Then I shall not fear or faint any more. O come, my Redeemer, come away. Break through these intervening clouds, and set the prisoner free from every interruption. O, bring me, where I long to be, near my God and Saviour. Thou

art all my rest, delight and desire, while I remain here; and thou shalt be infinitely more so, when I see thee without this veil of mortality. What is there in life I count worth living for, but thee? Does it not appear all vain, yea, burdensome, without thee, my God? Ver|ily I see nothing worth living for, but this God; noth|ing but glorifying and enjoying God. O then, why should mortality confine me here, under such languish|ments! May I not glorify and enjoy thee more, when my soul is more refined, and satisfied with full vision and fruition? Lord, thou knowest what is best: Yet I long. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.

May, 1752. I have this day been in some young company, not of the ruder sort: But, alas! how vain, how unprofitable the conversation! Nothing solid, nothing real and substantial; all vain and trifling. O how empty is such pleasure! Are these rational, im|mortal souls, who are capable of enjoying God, the in|finite, immortal fountain of delight and happiness; and yet do they neglect this, for such insipid, false delight! O mean, sordid souls! Let me never have my portion here. May I always look on it, as it must one day ap|pear, unworthy the regard, below the notice, of a ration|al being, capable of such superiour joy, as is in thy fa|vour, and the contemplation of thee, O my God. Here is solid, rational and immortal delight, and un|bounded pleasure; all that is worthy the vigour, ardour and delight of immortal souls.

They may wonder at me, that I have no taste for such things: But I wonder, even with astonishment, at them, that they can starve their souls thus. I wonder, if they have no delight in God, as a pure, holy, kind and good God, yet that they do not follow something more solid and subline, more deep, and worthy a ration|al soul. Miserable life! O pining poverty, starving souls, most tormenting penury! O rather let me lose mortality, drenched deep in unbounded fulness, and over filled with deep, immense divinity!

June, 1752. O my God, my gracious God, is it so! My soul, my immortal soul, is it as I have this day heard? Are believers thus nearly united to Christ? Is

it a vital, spiritual, indissoluble union, "I in them, and they in me?" My faith was even ready to stag|ger at this, as to my own part. I can hold it, in a general view of it; but when it is set out in such live|ly terms; the inestimable privileges resulting there|from, and the surprising heights and depths of the con|descending grace of God, to take worms of the dust thus near to his infinite Majesty, I am ready to say, All my hopes are vain! It can never be so as to me. I can never be thus united to the great God-Man-Mediator, and derive no more life from him! Can I be thus closely united to an infinite Being, and yet feel so little strength and grace? Can I be united to the pure and holy God, and yet be thus unholy? Can I be in him, in whom dwells all the fulness of the Godhead, as the branches are in the vine, and bear so little fruit? O, methinks it is impossible! And yet in this is all my confidence, delight, desire and expectation. This makes life supportable and death desirable.

O my Lord and head, am I thus united to thee; thou in me, and I in thee! I could never have dared to claim such an union with the Most High, hadst thou not revealed it. O happy privilege! the only desire or joy of my soul. The highest felicity of a rational be|ing, as it is the foundation, whence slows all the hap|piness I enjoy, expect, or desire. O blessed union! O dear privilege! All that is worthy the wish of a ra|tional creature. Why was I born to be made thus happy? O blessed, forever blessed be God, that I have a being among rational creatures, for this end! That I should be raised to this honour and dignity of being so nearly allied to the great, eternal, infinite God. Here be all my future contemplation and joy. Here be all my sense of pleasure. Here be all my sweet repose, and all my rest. Here be all the confidence of my soul; its only center, and fixed abode. Here let me lose all the relish of creature delights: And with these, here let me lose concern to please a vain world. Let them think me mean, sordid, low lived, and having no taste for refined pleasures: While my whole soul is divine|ly ravished, with the infinite glories of thy nature, and the

felicity of being so nearly united to Jesus the dear Me|diator, it is enough.

Lord, here I would delight to dwell. It is long since I have voluntarily chosen to lay up all my good in thee. And I have never willingly retracted. Though, alas! I have too, too often seemed so to do; yet, O my God, my desire has been to thee, and to the re|membrance of thy name. I trust my heart has never even secretly drawn back from, its first choice of thee; but has a thousand, and ten thousand times renewed its first solemn engagements to be thine. And, if a hearty consent to the terms of the gospel, and a daily desire after, and delight in Christ, and after conformity to him, be an evidence of my union to him, I will still hope. Notwithstanding all my yet unallowed weak|ness, barrenness and sin, I am united to this God by faith; and shall be brought to glory. Here, O my soul, take thy shield, thy faith and confidence. Be fix|ed, and be no more afraid. Here rejoice and triumph. If indeed united to the great Redeemer, thou art happy, and shall be so, though heaven and earth pass away. As long as the eternal God is thy refuge, nothing but sin shall hurt thee. And that shall not have dominion over thee. O my only desirable refuge, save me from every inclination to sin.

June 30th. This day I have been in company with some of great note, persons of quality, who were very agreeable, as to civil, social, affable behaviour. But I would not give one hour's familiar, christian conference with a dear saint; or, what is more, one moment's communion with God, for a year's converse with these. O when shall the ties of mere civility and common friendship be no more; but I shall dwell and converse where I long to be, with Jesus, and saints made perfect!

—Again paid a visit long due. I went with some reluctance; but went because I would prevent or re|move all prejudice against strict religion, and leave no room for any to think religion made me stiff and unso|ciable, disregardful of relatives. But, O, when shall I dwell forever where I love, with Jesus, and his dear children, to converse of him only; for here is all my

delight! O come sweet hour of my release! All below this, is but sordid drudgery, only as far as it is done in obedience, under a sense of duty.

July—. This day disordered in body; and the weather extreme hot. Yet I have been to the house and table of my Lord Redeemer. I had an idea of this feast, as a token or pledge of reconciliation. And, blessed be God, here I have received full assurance that God was my reconciled God and Father. In this or|dinance I saw represented to faith, the sum and substance of all religion, all my hope, expectation or desire. My soul did even break with love and joy. I longed to be where no mortal eye could behold me, for this seemed all the restraint I knew. My frame seemed as though it would dissolve, to give vent. O, here I saw the great Father reconciled, by the Son reconciling; and the Spirit applying and sealing. O, methinks this is heav|en in kind! All clouds were scattered: The partition wall broken down; and I was brought near to God and my Redeemer, by the blessed Spirit. O happy mo|ment! I saw my evidence clear, and the truth and faithfulness of God engaged to bring me to glory. Now love cast out fear. All slavish fear fled. My faith beheld the dear Redeemer dying, rising and reign|ing: And I was assured it was for me. Love embrac|ed and admired him; and godly sorrow arose and join|ed the transport of love and joy. Humility accompa|nied my glory and triumph: I lay in the dust: I tri|umphed to heaven. I appeared below the worm; yet challenged angels to compare with me, with respect to redeeming love.

But O, what more shall I say respecting this memo|rable season! O my soul, when thou reviewest this rec|ord, and fain would know more of it, think, if thou art capable of the most elevated thought, O think, what divine delight it affords a poor, weary, combating soul, to be taken near, yea very near, her only delight, her God; and have the most free and intimate commu|nion, without a doubt, without a fear; to behold her God and her Christ secure; her heaven sure; yea, all she wishes or desires approaching her, very near. And

thus, if thou wouldst know by renewed experience, O taste again, my soul; for this is the best way to know: For all expressions are flat, and below its worth.

Oct.—. I am now exercised with a sore trial. Dif|ficulties on every hand approach. I am tried in the tenderest part. My dear parents afflicted greatly. My natural affections work strongly. Exposed to want and contempt; and no prospect of relief, only from the unseen hand of Providence. All ways seem hedg|ed up. I think things could not be more intricate, un|less all was come on me, which I have reason to expect, without a wonderful interposition of divine Providence. Yet, contrary to my natural disposition, I am kept from sinking. I see no injustice, nor want of faithfulness and love, in God, in thus trying me. All my enjoyments are his by right, as the sovereign giver and disposer of all things. His, as I have most solemnly and repeat|edly given them up to his all wise disposal of them. I can but adore his goodness and mercy, that I am so far supported under these things. My spirit is serious, I trust, yet not overwhelmed. I see God ordering and governing affairs relating to my temporal interest, for my trial, and, to human eyes, dashing all expectation of happiness or comfort, yea, of a bare subsistence in this world. Yet I would set the crown on the head of King Jesus, and bid him reign; yea, reign sovereign and glorious, in the kingdom of providence, governing and disposing of all that relates to me, according to the purpose of his own will, and for his own glory. And herein I would rejoice and glory. O, it is enough if he be glorified, for whom it is my happiness to live, and my joy to die; whose glory is my entire felicity, whether in adverse or prosperous circumstances, in re|gard to my own personal, or family interest.

Nov. 19th. This day permitted to wait on God in his house, and at his table. I was glad, under my pres|ent trials, that I had an opportunity publicly to own and renew my choice of God for my portion; that, however he might see best in his providence to try and afflict me, yet I would still own and avouch him for my God and Governour: For, though he slay me, yet

will I trust in him, and let the world know I do so. O, I long to make some more full and public ac|knowledgement, that I now, under these most dark and distressing dispensations of providence, esteem him the only object worthy of the highest praise, love and de|light. I trust it is out of the power of all created mor|tal finite things to make me wretched, or unhappy, while God, the infinite, uncreated, immortal source of being and blessedness, cannot change, and my interest in him is firm. That this God cannot change, I am confident, without the least doubt; yea, I am sure of it. And that my interest in him is firm, I am, through grace, well satisfied of. And having laid up my good in God; I am at rest, and pleased that he should choose all my trials and comforts, as he sees best.

Blessed be God, my communion season was sweet, and, I hope, strengthening. This time twelve months I came to the table of the Lord laden with large expe|riences of his goodness to me in my journey to Boston, and return home. I saw him wise and good to me then, in his mercies: And now I see him the same wise and good God, in his afflictive dealings with me. O thou best of Beings, who would not trust and love thee? Surely all who know thy name will. So let me, though thou shouldest deprive me of all earthly friends; of health and food, and all the necessaries of life, but such as I seek from the charity of the world. And this, without the constant, bountiful interposition of providence, I may expect. Yet, that thou art, I trust, my God, affords greater joy, than when corn and wine, and all the riches and dainties of the world, are in|creased: For thou art a sufficient portion for my soul, abstracted from all the delights of earth. Thy perfec|tions afford the highest entertainments, of which hu|man nature is capable; and thy glory the highest end that can be pursued. While thy glory is the highest and ultimate end of all my desire, love and joy, and I believe thou hast this in view, in all thy dispensations, I may well rejoice in all the trials that befal me. Bless|ed be God! all my affairs are in the hands of that God, who doth all things, according to the purpose of his

own will, and that it is for his own glory. Well, if it be so, then all is well, infinitely well. My felicity and eternal happiness is the glory of God in the display of his perfections. And while my soul longs for this, I must rejoice in the prospect of it, or prove myself most base and false. And is I do rejoice in this, I must bless God for the methods he takes to advance this, however it cross my poor, pitiful, low and mean temporal in|terest.

If then I can trust God with his own glory, I may rest assured all is well, and my most ardent desires are fulfilling. O blessed God, this gives the most adverse dispensations of thy providence another face: When I know no interest but the cause of God, and can con|fide in him, that he will take care of this. Father, I have said, Thy will be done. I repeat the sacred re|quest. O, let me never retract. Dispose of all my concerns, as thou seest best; though now thy provi|dence seems to be exposing me to poverty and want, to reproach and contempt, to false reports: Yet I bless thee that they are no more. And so entirely do I ac|quiesce in this wise and good, though afflictive dispen|sation of thy providence, that my soul cries out, Reign, Lord, reign, and govern all things as thou seest best.

Dec. 1752. I have had a short reprieve from death. Lord, let me never forget the solemn shock, when I was at the point of death, and really thought myself ac|tually dying. O the important moment, the amazing struggle, for soul and body to part! Never did I appre|hend death so real, and terrible to nature. My soul, I trusted, was secured; yet, O yet, death appeared the king of terrors, as an enemy to nature. I would look on this as a warning to me to prepare for a sudden death▪ which God only knows how soon may be. I would now live as one who daily expects another sud|den shock, that shall put a period to life, as in a mo|ment. Lord, I bless thee for the abiding impression on my soul, and the reconciliation I find to a speedy and sudden exit. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. However sudden and terrible the shock may be to na|ture; yet grace shall gain the conquest. My soul

shall rise triumphant to the seats of immortality and bliss. Farewel, my dear friends. You have been long and often warned of a separation. Think not then that it is too sudden, since my daily and hourly desires after immortality prevent the surprise. I believe and trust my hope is secure, built on the Rock of ages. God, my eternal refuge, will not fail me in the last extremity, whether I be able to let you know the frame of my mind then, or not; yet, I trust, you may rejoice in my state, which, through grace, on repeated examination, I am confirmed is safe and secure in Jesus, the all suf|ficient Mediator; to whom I now commit my soul, in expectation of a sudden death.

God has been visiting me with severe and terrible pain, so that I was not able to lie in bed more than two nights in eleven. Yet goodness and mercy still fol|lowed me, and I was made comfortable, in the midst of poverty and want. All my wants were well supplied; food, physic, firing and clothing, without my care or charge. Yet the pain was so severe and extreme, that I found, that, without divine assistance, I was utterly unable to surmount it. God graciously shewed me my own weakness in a time of trial; that without him, I should faint under the least rebuke of his hand. O how tenderly does God deal with me! I was afraid I should grow selfconfident and proud, because so resigned un|der the last trial; and was almost ready to think it ne|cessary that my corruptions should be let loose in me, to show me what I was, or feared God would suffer it so to be, to convince me what I am. But, blessed be his name, he has not taken that method; but by a gen|tler way, however painful to the body, showed me my amazing weakness and inability to bear the least trial of myself. O, who would not trust this good, kind and wise God! O my God, let me still do so, though thou continue to shut up all prospect of support from us. I know thy truth has never failed me; nor has thy mercy neglected me. Why should I fear any evil, since thou art with me? I am the care of thy providence, and the regard of thine eye. Thou wilt not leave me friendless and helpless. Thou wilt not

leave thyself without a witness in my soul▪ that thou art he who art the help of the helpless, and the refuge of the poor. I trust thou wilt supply my wants, while here, and at last bring me to glory.

Feb. 1753. God seems now about to deprive me of the dearest enjoyments here, even secret retirement. I lately thought, it was out of the power of all things here below to make me unhappy: But I had forgot my religious privileges. Now I am ready to say, I shall never enjoy myself more. If I cannot unbosom my soul to God in secret, farewel comfort: I must sigh out my remaining days! O my God, teach me a be|coming temper, under this dispensation. I am ready to say, I do well to grieve for this, and to refuse to be comforted; because it is the enjoyment of God himself. How can I keep up lively communion with God, in the constant hurry and converse of the world, and crea|tures? I never yet could. But, however, there is surely some submission required of me, to all the allot|ments of divine Providence. O, be thou my teacher. Lord, my soul is overwhelmed, do thou appear for me. My way seems hedged up, and grows darker and dark|er daily. But O, may I not mistrust my good God in the least, who, I believe, has, in infinite wisdom, ap|pointed every trial for me: Not one but what is the result of perfect wisdom and counsel. O then, let me patiently bear every trial, until it shall please my kind, wise and good God to remove it. O, let me not faint under this affliction! O, where shall I go, or what shall I do, when I may not pour out my joys and sor|rows, into thy bosom, O my compassionate Saviour!

God is now denying me all opportunity for se|cret retirement in my father's house, another family having moved into it; though all things else appear more comfortable for my abode there, than they did some time past: And is by this providence, and the desire of some friends, compelling me, as it were, to be abroad, where I can with freedom, without re|straint, enjoy religious privileges, both private and se|cret; yet with some disadvantage to temporal affairs, and with no prospect of a continuance; so that I am

kept very unfixed at present; and there is no prospect of my being more settled. Lord, I wait and hope. Thou hast been my refuge and trust; a very present help, in time of trouble. I look unto thee yet. I cry unto God, unto God Most High, who hath, and I trust will, perform all things for me. O lead me in the way of duty, that I may not go astray. Thou hast never yet left me in any exigency: Shall I now distrust! For|tify my heart against every desponding thought: And when thou hast prepared me for, take me to, those dear mansions above, which thou hast prepared for thy children. O fix me there near thyself. Come, Lord Jesus, O come quickly! The world seems weary of me, throwing me from place to place: And I surely am weary of the world. We are agreed to part. O then, why tarry I here? Lord, I am satisfied with this mortal life. I wish, I long for a release. I thirst for the waters of immortal life. I groan, being burdened with earth and sin. Fain would my soul reach the realms of light and life, and go no more out; but dwell near Jesus the transcendent Redeemer; the lovely Me|diator; the joy of nations; the darling of thy saints; the desire of my soul.

March—. O my God, when shall my soul be en|tirely conformed to thee! I know it shall be, when I awake in thy likeness: But I long for greater degrees of sanctification in this life. O make me inwardly and hiddenly conformed to thy will and law; that my whole soul may be transformed into thy image. O, cause that the inmost recesses of my heart may be sanc|tified: And give me that sweet, that lovely grace, sin|cerity in the inward part. I am weary of this design|ing, deceitful, treacherous heart. Lord, root out of my soul, all that is not conformed to thee. Set fire to the stubble, and burn it out of my heart. Tear out this base, this wretched, sordid selfishness. Slay this pride and opposition to thee. My soul thirsteth for that righteousness, which only shall render me pleasing in thy sight; in thy sight, who art of purer eyes, than to behold sin, and canst not look on the least iniquity, but with infinite detestation and abhorrence. O, come,

blessed Spirit, O come, and work in my soul a hearty, en|tire, universal, perfect conformity to God. Nothing below this can satisfy or content me.

But, alas! I still find my heart prone to forsake God. This wretched, ungrateful soul of mine is bent to back|sliding. All things reproach my sordid soul; and eter|nal infamy seems to await such an abuser of infinite love and benignity. O my soul! Why art not thou con|founded with shame? Was ever a wretch more vile and ungrateful? Look all around thee, and see heaps on heaps of abused, forfeited, slighted mercies. Where shall I hide my guilty head? Can such horrid treache|ry be in a single heart? Can such unnatural rebellion appear in a soul consecrated to the law, interest and au|thority of its sovereign? But O, still more affecting! Can such heights of ingratitude, enmity, rebellion and disobedience, remain in a child, bound by all the obli|gations of gratitude and love, to honour, love, fear and serve a kind, wise, good and gracious Father? O God, can it be! What are my hopes? How inconsistent my practice! Lord, screen my guilty, obnoxious soul, from the eternal, amazing reproaches of such horrid in|gratitude. O Jesus, the hope of thy people, the refuge of the distressed, save me from the tormenting reproach, which my ingratitude deserves. Surely, O surely, the least deviation from thy law, or trespass against thee, after such mercies as I have been favoured with, de|serves infinite revenges. But O, sovereign Prince of peace, I hear thee say, "Fury is not in me, to those who desire to make peace with me." O, infinite grace! Here is my everlasting confidence, even in Jesus the Mediator of reconciliation. O my almighty refuge! through thee I have the utmost confidence, and bold|ness of access, even to a holy, sin revenging God; con|fidence, as to a Father, without the least slavish fear. My Redeemer is the Son. His Son is my surety and ad|vocate. O blessed privilege! Glorious security! My soul is here at rest from fears of condemnation; but restless for perfect conformity; always to serve and please God.

April—. This day visited a dear afflicted relation. One inexpressible distress of body, who has receiv|ed

the sentence of death in herself. I find my affec|tions strong, and am forced to stifle, check, and hold them in, left they should quite overcome. O lord, I have sworn, and may not go back, that I will give up the dearest enjoyments here below, at the call of thy providence. I have solemnly renounced relative self, so as to resign my dearest friends, at thy call, with|out murmuring. And now the vows of God are upon me, and I cannot go back without perjury. Lord, thou knowest what strength of affection I have for my friends; that there is nothing in life, next to the enjoy|ment of God, that I am so weded to. Yet these I now give up to thy divine disposal. O, let me have no will of my own; but be always swallowed up in thine. And, O my God, prepare me for every trial of this kind, that I may be called to endure: For I know, without thy strength and grace, I should be but as a wild bull in a net; or as a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke. I should rage and foam, until I had grieved thy Spirit quite away. O my God, now help me by thy grace, through which I resolve to watch my heart with the greatest diligence. Lord, help me!

April—. Lord, when shall I put from this tempes|tuous shore? I am weary of the world. I long for a calm, cool retreat from noise and heat, and all the sor|did clamours of earthly, groveling souls. I hate the sulphureous breath of calumny and detraction. My soul was made for harmony and love. And without this, immortality would be a curse; my being a horrid torment. My soul abhors rancour and envy. I detest evil surmises, and love the balmy air, where peace and friendship reign unmolested; where sharp arrows of the mighty, with coals of juniper, never fly; nor clouds of smoke from the infernal pit, suffocate the air, or taint or poison the dear associates. O there I would fix my dear abode; wide from the wrangling wretch, who courts resentment and revenge: Nor should his rage, nor should his yells, within the sacred realms be heard. My soul is near allied to spirits born and bred on high, where no resentment ever rises: Nor is the vulgar passion, common to fools and madmen, with the

sordid bull and bear, ever known there. There, sweet are their joys, and blest are their souls, where all unite in piety and love. O, I long to join the lovely band; nor would I ever quit the dear delights.

Scarce any thing in life gives me a greater disgust to earth, than the sour and severe reflections some people take a pleasure in making on their neighbours. I hate contradiction; yet conscience often obliges me to vin|dicate the injured absent. I had rather be counted a fool, not capable of resentment of injuries, than feel the disquieting passion in my soul. My Saviour would have his disciples wise as serpents, but harmless as doves. If others offend, I will forgive. I would nev|er relate any injury I have received, so long as I find the least anger stirring. It is sometimes necessary to relate what we think ill treatment, in order to have it cleared up, if it can be: But yet, I would first get a|bove it in myself, before I mention it to another. It is a fixed maxim with me, first to get the victory over and in myself, before I seek to get it for myself over another. I sometimes give my sentiments about per|sons or things, if it be needful, and I do not find my|self or friends injured by them: But when that is the case, I suffer not myself even barely to relate the affair, lest it should irritate my own or my friend's corruption. My first work is to keep down every heart rising thought, and exercise every candid, charitable one towards the person; and so never leave this struggle with my heart, until I find a hearty regard for them, so as to influence me to carry them to God, in the arms of faith and prayer. Nor do I please myself that I do really forget and forgive an injury, until I can with freedom and fervency beg all the blessings and com|forts of God's grace for them; not only their escaping eternal misery; but that they may have a large meas|ure of grace; that they may be filled with holiness and comfort, and shine as lights, and do much good in the world; and at last shine as monuments of free grace, in the kingdom of their heavenly Father.

May—. Blessed be God, I have this day had liber|ty to enter his courts, and heard two excellent sermons

from 1 Pet. i. 22. "See that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently." These sermons afforded me matter of conviction and humiliation: Not did this prevent solid comfort and satisfaction. Lord, I blush before thee, that I rise no higher in brotherly love. I find, in many things I come short of my duty. Yea, in all I come short; and in many go beside and contra|ry. I often neglect and omit my duty, or else perform it so, that it had as good or better been omitted. O, give me understanding, that I may keep thy precepts. How impure is my most pure love! How remiss is my most fervent affection, both to thee, and to thy people! And therefore it is that it has so little influence on my practice. Lord, I am ashamed, and even confounded before thee, that I follow thee no closer; that I am no more conformed to thee; that I keep thy commands no better. Surely I love thy law. In it is all my delight. I approve of it, as most right. My very soul, if I am not utterly deceived, saith, It is more to be desired than gold; yea, than much find gold. All the duties thou hast enjoined on me, I love, and long to practise. O then, why do I neglect? Why am I not just what God has commanded? O, why do I not express the devout sincerity of my love to God, by a universal and perfect conformity to all his laws and precepts? O my God, when shall it be? Why, O why, does my prac|tice proclaim such ingratitude? O my best friend, my Father, my Saviour, my kind benefactor, compared with thee, all others are but empty names: Why then do I not always do the things that please thee? O help me, Lord, by thy grace and Spirit. I want to be such as this wise, good Being will approve.

May—. I have this day heard two more dear ser|mons from 1 Pet. i. 22. I still find farther cause of hu|miliation, that I fall so short of what I ought to be; and yet strong evidence that I have this divine prin|ciple of love to the brethren rooted in my soul. I find the most steady, cordial affection to all, so far as I can discover the image of Christ in them. I have a pre|sent proof of this. Some persons whom I heartily love and honour, believing them to be dear children of

God; though I have reason to believe very disagreea|ble. I have heard much amiss of them; I see many things in their conduct, which, though I do not con|demn as sins in them, yet I believe would be so in me, if I were to act them; and which are quite contrary to my sentiments, and turn of mind: Yet I feel a dis|position, on every occasion, to cover their failings with a mantle of love, putting the most favourable con|struction on all their actions; even when they appear to be against me. God is my witness, how dearly I love them, without any natural bonds, to engage me to this love; and how greatly I long for their comfort, both in temporals and spirituals; and how I desire to serve them.

I find a sweet cementing love to all the members of Christ's body, wherever they are dispersed, up and down in the world; not only those of my own acquaint|ance and opinion; but those whom I never saw; and who differ from me, in many respects: Yea, even those who contemn and despise me. Love to all these appears to be a spiritual, genuine, gracious affection, which extends to all saints. Witness the refreshing seasons I have had, when wrestling with God for a time of refreshing from his presence on all his children. I have felt the unity of the spirit, in the bond of peace, sweetly drawing out my own heart to love and long for them, as for my own soul.

And I have found of late, this love more strongly acting, more sensibly exercised, than formerly; and felt the satisfaction of it, though, until now, I have not rejoiced in it, as the strongest evidence of my love to God. And therefore I have this farther proof of my sincerity; that I did not cherish and hug this frame or temper, because, or on account of its being an evidence in my favour; but for its own worth, being good in it|self, proceeding from God who is love, and command|ed by a good God: And the nature, properties, and ten|dency all divine. If I love not God supremely, for himself, and his children, for and in him, I must doubt whether I am rational, or capable of judging or know|ing any thing of the actings of my mind.

June 10th. I have this day heard two excellent ser|mons on enduring temptation. My soul feels such a mixture of joy and grief as I cannot express. I feel an unspeakable joy in the liberty of public worship; and yet I am melted in grief and sorrow, because de|prived of secret retirement. I have had no opportuni|ty for this the last week: But what fixedness I have been allowed, has been in a common room; for I have not the privilege of a closet or a garret for retirement. This takes away almost all the relish of life. I feel a more sensible indifference for all other comforts of life, than ever; and what I have formerly most feared and dreaded, now seem matters of indifference, neither feared nor dreaded; as though nothing could give me any trouble, but the want of secret, fixed, and solemn com|munion with God. I am ready to burst into a flood of tears, when I look on the dear children of God, my christain friends, and think how they can pour out their souls in secret, into the bosom of their God and Saviour. O, how did my soul long this day, when public worship ended, to retire into some corner, se|cure from all fear of interruption, and pour out all my soul to him! I was almost ready to go to some christian friend, and vent my grief, and beg a place of retire|ment. But I feared it might offend them, as pharisaical, and Satan take the advantage to distract me about it; though my soul did even break with the longing I had for my God. O God, thou desire of my soul, appear for me. Every day's prevention seems to increase the vehement longings of my soul for an opportunity. O when, when shall I come and pour out my soul before thee in secret! When, O when shall I enjoy thee, as I have enjoyed thee, in secret duties! Let me never for|get the pain I now endure in being deprived of retire|ment, when my soul feels the most devout ardour, and fervent longings to get near my God, and plead my cause before him.

Yet, blessed be God, who, I trust, keeps me from a re|pining impatience, I hope I feel a childlike tenderness, under the rod. I weep beneath the stroke; and desire to justify, love and rejoice in my Father forever. I

find a disposition, under this heavy trial, to justify God, and speak well of him, before my dear christian friends, who tenderly pity and sympathize with me: And I am afraid freely to vent my grief to them, lest Satan should take the advantage, and betray them into some unbe|coming thoughts of my kind, good and gracious God. O thou, thou thyself art the desire of my soul; the perfection of beauty; the only delight of my immor|tal spirit, whatever thy outward dispensations may be, towards me.

June 17th. This day heard two more precious ser|mons on enduring temptation. Blessed be God, I have had a little more opportunity the week past for secret duties, though abroad, and attended with frequent inter|ruptions. O, I find the want of my former uninter|rupted opportunities. O, if ever a thirsty hart panted for the water brook; more, unspeakably more, does my thirsty soul pant for God, the living God. When shall I come and appear before him? I love God's sanctuary. I clasp the precious moments; embrace the dear season; and feel an unspeakable satisfaction to find myself worshipping God, the supreme Deity, who is infinitely worthy of all possible adoration and worship; and long to continue the sacred exercise, where no mortal eye can see, or ear hear; but the omniscient God alone witnesses the devout ardour, the intense fervour of my love; while, with undissembled sincerity, I pour out my soul in vehement, immortal breathings af|ter him, the infinite good, in whom is all my delight, or desire. O that I could once enjoy that blessed, that happy retirement, I have long enjoyed. Methinks I should feel myfelf on the borders of the heavenly Ca|naan. How, O how are my Sabbaths spoiled; my glory defaced, the Sabbath. This dear day so loved, and was concerned to spend every moment in the ex|ercises of religion. I felt impatient of every moment that was taken up in civil, or social, and even necessary concerns. All was▪ burdensome to me on the Sab|bath, but the time that was spent in public or private du|ties. But now, every minute, almost, beside public worship, is spent in company, and worldly conversa|tion.

For these things my soul is melted, and sorely bowed down.

Sept. 2d. O how infinitely gracious is God to un|worthy me! I have seen the King in his beauty, and the land that is far off, by faith, while in his house, and at his table. I have this day tasted that the Lord is gracious. My soul was even overwhelmed with the wonders of divine love and grace, of God manifested in and through Jesus Christ his Son. I was obliged to put the utmost restraint on myself, to prevent discover|ing it, before the dear communicants. I was scarce able to contain myself, under the powerful communi|cation of divine goodness to my soul. I have had a sweet pledge and foretaste, this day, of eternal life. My soul was raised above this earth. Here, O here, I let go my hold of every creature enjoyment, and clasp|ed the immortal God, in the arms of my faith, as the only desirable portion of my soul. And here, O trans|porting goodness! here he displayed his infinite ful|ness and perfection, as worthy my everlasting confi|dence and delight. I said, It is enough; my soul can wish no more. Burst, ye bands: Break, break ye fetters, and let me know the extent of my blessedness. I found, indeed, as his word testified, Christ to be the bread of life. And here, I trust, I did find strength and nourishment, by faith in Christ, at his table.

Let them despise this ordinance (if they dare speak evil of those things they know not) who never enjoy|ed God in it. But surely my soul shall forever mag|nify his name for this glorious gospel feast, wherein all the blessed privileges and promises of the new and ever|lasting covenant are held forth, displayed, confirmed and sealed. O methinks the sum and substance of the whole law and gospel is here displayed to the believing soul, beyond what it is in any other mean or ordinance on earth. This I have reason to call the highest privi|lege, this side heaven. The enjoyment of God at his table, seems to have the nearest resemblance to the pure and perfect enjoyments of the heavenly state. Blessed be God, who has, for several months, if not years past, in my most dull, dead, or disconsolate, distressed frames,

brought me near himself in this ordinance. Here the partition wall has been broken down. Here my soul draws near with confidence, as to a reconciled God, through Jesus the Mediator, by the Holy Ghost: Even when I could get near, in no other duty, here I have ventured, and found speedy access: For the blood of Jesus has given boldness.

And now would I walk with God, as did Enoch. I have, this day, renewed my solemn engagements to be the Lord's entirely, body, soul and spirit; confessing sin; fly|ing to Christ for pardon; giving up all my enjoyments to the disposing hand of providence; and, by faith, I trust, seeking to God, through Christ, for grace and strength to practice every duty, and bear every burden, so as it may be for the glory of his name. Lord, prepare me for death or a life of trials. Thou knowest to which I shall be called.

Sept.—. I have this day heard a sermon from Eph. vi. 1. "Children, obey your parents in the Lord; for this is right." The parent's authority, and the duty of children, was shewed. Upon a strict inquiry, I have reason to be humbled that I have fallen so far short of my duty to God, and my dear parents. God has given me the best of parents, whom I am under innumerable obligations to love, honour and obey. I know of no person in the world so happy in parents, as I am. But, alas! I have abundant reason to be humbled before God and them, that I behave so unworthy a child, thus highly favoured.

Yet, blessed be God, I hope it is my most sincere en|deavour to approve myself grateful to God, and dutiful to them. And, upon a strict search, do not remember, that I have knowingly and wilfully transgressed any positive command of theirs; nor acted contrary to what I thought was their mind: Except in matters of religion, where conscience, and a sense of duty to God, has inclined me to some things, which they would have chosen I should not; yet, through their lenity, did not absolutely forbid. I know I have sometimes exposed my health in the ways of religion, beyond what their tender affections for me could freely con|sent

to: Yet it was with grief, from a real sense of du|ty, and ardent desire after the enjoyment of God. And I know this zeal has made me venture as far as I dare, with|out violating a positive command, which I do not know that I ever did knowingly. But in other matters I have endeavoured to shun every thing that was disagreeable to them; and to practise those things which were most pleasing to them, upon the smallest intimation of their pleasure. And I have never wilfully or knowingly abused their tender indulgence, their unwillingness to contradict and cross me. To take the advantage of this, has been highly detested and abhorred by me. The uncommon respect and lenity they have showed to me, especially in matters of religion, has often filled me with shame and blushing; and has never lessened, but increased my sense of duty and respect for them. And the least discovery I have made of disrespect to them in my carriage, though not taken notice of by them, so far as I could discern, has filled me with the deepest resentment, detestation and abhorrence of my|self, and the severest reflections, before God. The strength of my affection for them is much greater, than to any creature comfort, in this world; and no world|ly trouble goes so near my soul, as that which afflicts them. Their troubles are most sharp and cutting to me. And the loss of my parents, I fear, would be almost in|supportable to me. This is what my very soul shrinks back from. And therefore I daily find need to go to God for grace to bear such a trial, if called to it. That I do love them most strongly, I know. But, alas, how far do I fall short of that filial respect and reverence, which I do acknowledge to be their just due, and my duty to give them!

Ah, Lord, how short do I come of those relative du|ties, which are incumbent on me! Thou mightest just|ly deprive me of the comfort of these dear creature en|joyments, which have hitherto, through thy blessing, rendered my life so agreeable. Thou hast given and continued to me parents and sisters, free from every scan|dalous transgression, possessed of many agreeable qual|ifications, and in good repute; tender and affectionate,

to the last degree: Most amiable and desirable, as rel|atives. And I hope some are possessed of thy grace. None, I hope, altogether unmindful of thee. O when shall they all strive to glorify thee, with souls possessed with sincere love to thee, and all thy ways!

O, how great are the obligations lying on me, both from God and them, to behave most dutifully, setting forth a bright example of piety and virtue! The solemn and distinguishing profession I have made, loudly calls for this from me. Lord, what shall I say! I am con|founded, when I reflect on the many obligations lying on me; and how far short I come.

April 4th, 1754. Fast day. This is a day set apart by a neighbouring government for humiliation and prayer. And as I am called upon by my pastor and the church to join with them in public duties; so I would gladly sequester the time from worldly concerns, for secret duties. Especially is God calling me to it, by the alarming reports of war, which are now spread|ing; as I have lately renewed my purpose, to seek the Lord for his glory in the good of his chosen; and these two occasions are now offered, which I knew not of before, viz. A day set apart for that purpose; and the rumour of war spreading, so soon after it; I am there|fore more confirmed in my purpose. Lord, excite and assist. O be thou in the midst of thy people this day.—

This day, I trust through grace, my soul has been engaged with God for personal, family, town, land, national and universal blessings. O, blessed be God for assistance in confession and petition. Lord, I leave them with thee, for a gracious return, through Jesus Christ, our glorious high priest: And beg supports or relief for my frail, fainting tabernacle, which is even ready to dissolve.

April 21st. Heard a sermon from Jer. vii. 22. "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?" &c. My soul has been in a serious, attentive frame, this day, reaching after, and relying upon the only Phy|sician of souls. But this night, by faith, in prayer, I saw him more clearly, whom my soul loves, infinitely

beautiful and glorious. O, how suitable does he ap|pear for the work of a Mediator! How every way in|finitely sit did he appear, both on God's part, and on man's! And the shameful, shocking reproach it cast on all the divine perfections, to refuse a cordial compli|ance with these most wise, most kind, most just and most reasonable terms of salvation, which the gospel holds forth. O how did my soul acquiesce in this wonderful scheme of redemption, by this wonderful Redeemer! Every attribute and perfection of the Di|vine Being, appears in full lustre and glory, in this work of grace. And man appears the most base, sor|did, irrational and stupid, when he refuses to come in, on this gracious invitation. Lord, here at thy cross I throw down all my weapons of rebellion; all my nat|ural enmity, pride and stubbornness: Here I give up all specious duties, good frames, and proud pretences, and glory in the cross of Christ. In this, I esteem the wisdom of God, and the power of God. And in a Com|pliance with this, I esteem man's highest wisdom, strength, beauty and riches. O the riches both of the wisdom and goodness of God! O thou Prince of peace, I here renew my choice, and all my engagements to be thine. Did others see that excellency in thee, which I now behold by faith, they must submit, and acknowl|edge thee to be the chief of ten thousands, and alto|gether lovely. I must cease to be rational, if I did not now choose and embrace thee, under these views of thee; and venture my whole salvation on this gospel method.

July 7th. Sabbath day. Last night and this morn|ing I sought the Lord for his presence with me, in his house, and at his table, this day, though several circum|stances seemed to concur to prevent my attendance, which gave some damp to me; and I found not that access I hoped for, nor that lively exercise of grace that I desired. Yet I hoped I had my eyes to the Lord for his presence and grace, and felt not wholly barren. But was still more fixed and enlivened by the sermon, from Psal. xxvii. 1. "The Lord is my light and my salvation." And when permitted to commemorate the

dying love of my Redeemer, my soul was even swal|lowed up in love, wonder and admiration. What tongue can express, what soul conceive, the boundless depths of divine, infinite love and condescension to a world of mankind! And to me, unworthy me! Has the great and glorious God provided all these great and glorious things for me; for my eternal delightful en|tertainment? All language fails. My soul is unable to express the enlarged and extensive views of the di|vine goodness.

Again, this afternoon, all my devout reflections, and grateful sentiments, were revived and enlarged. I know not whether ever I enjoyed a better day. But ah! I felt myself doubly fettered; in the body, and the body fettered with fellow mortals! I longed to have left both; but if not, I wished to have been where no mortal could have seen me: For my soul was even ready to break through every restraint. This has been like one of the days of heaven on earth to my soul. O the boundless, endless treasures of grace and love! O the unsearchable riches of grace! But why do I attempt to speak of these astonishing things, I have this day been allowed to feast on? To write or speak of these things, at this time, is like turning up a full bottle, where the hasty pressing of the liquor stops the vent. I am lost in conceiving and contemplating; much more, in de|scribing or uttering. The powers of my soul are strait|ened. The faculties of my mind, I sensibly feel, are overpowered with divine, infinite, eternal wonders. No wonder then, that the organs of the body are una|ble to perform this part. Let it suffice to say, I have this day by faith seen the King in his beauty, and the land that is afar off. I have been satisfied with the goodness of his house; and yet am insatiably longing for full fruition.

It is enough! What more could God have done for me, or entitled me to? It is enough! The infinite God has given me an infinite fulness. It is enough! I see it so. I can wish no more. My finite nature can hold no more. When enlarged in all its faculties, then the full fruition. And this earthen vessel can only bear

these drops; and with these is ready to dissolve. Didst thou not support it, this day would have proved how brittle it was, such were the powerful discoveries, with which God had favoured me. O God, let them be enlarged into full fruition. O, when shall I see and know all that of which my finite nature is capable!

August 9th, 1754. I have been much taken up of late in company and conversation: But both have been chiefly of 〈◊〉〈◊〉 religious kind, and therefore more satisfactory in its nature, than otherwise it would have been. But yet my soul wants to retire from all things temporal and visible, and converse in a more intellec|tual▪ and spiritual manner with invisible realities. I know I have a spiritual part within, which was never made to feed on any even the most refined sublunary enjoyments; an immortal nature, which must have eternal things to contemplate, or it will never find rest and delight; a capacious soul, which must have an in|finite object to busy and entertain its noble faculties and unbounded desires; that nothing but an infinite, eternal, selfsufficient, selfexistent good can suffice. And, through grace, I trust I have a gracious principle, a new nature, a regenerate part, a love stronger than death, that does most powerfully carry my whole soul after a Being who is most wise, most holy, just and good: And after all creature converse, will remain unsatisfied, without sensible and sweet communion with this Being. I find nothing in all the vast creation commensurate to the unbounded desires of this capa|cious spirit. And, blessed be God, I find nothing, that can give renewed nature a moment's satisfaction, but this holy, spiritual Being; what comes from and cen|ters in him. In vain a thousand amusements and tempt|ing vanities offer their assistance, to mitigate his tedious absence, or grace his return: For I quarrel, and com|plain of the whole system of nature. I feel such a rest|lessness, as I can no ways account for, but that the God of nature and grace has sworn that nothing but himself should ever delight me.

I did lift my voice to heaven, crying to the propi|tious Deity, who had himself formed my soul with

such faculties and powers, as must pine away in tor|menting penury, without him; that he who knew his own infinite perfections, would cause that none else should ever satisfy me; but that I should be forever restless and uneasy, when he did not condescend to visit me. A deep sense of the divine, supreme excel|lence and perfections; the boundless capacity of my soul; and divine love to God, inflamed my heart; and lively faith emboldened me to ask: And infinite, di|vine condescension, I trust, heard and granted the re|quest.

August—. My time has been taken up chiefly the week past in a diligent, though, blessed be God, not an anxious attendance on my calling. I find God is, by his Spirit, daily clearing my evidence, and delivering me from a spirit of bondage, whereby I have the testi|mony of my conscience, that in simplicity and godly sincerity, I have my conversation in the world. I know the natural bent of my mind is for study: Yet, I trust, I have a good conscience towards God, that I do not allow one duty to interfere with another; but render to Cesar the things which are Cesar's, as well as to God, the things which are God's. And I do as really study and endeavour to be diligent in business, as fervent in spirit. I am conscious to myself, that I neither allow nor love an idle, lazy live. My natural temper does not incline to it; but when indulged or employed in study, and in the exercise of the mind, is most diligent and laborious. Blessed be God, who has cleared my way, and, I trust, teaches me so to con|duct as gives peace to my conscience, and confidence towards God, through Jesus Christ, my only hope of acceptance with God.

Saturday night, August—. Alas! this day has been a very incumbered day; and I came to my cham|ber weary and tired, both body and mind. I have torn myself from the business of the world, and I find so ma|ny duties before me, in regard of the communion, as would last me through the night, would my strength hold out, or could I enjoy my chamber alone; but I cannot. O God, fit me for the approaching solemnity

of thy day and table. O compose my soul for holy duties. I trust I have been serving thee in my world|ly employment, and had a sense of my duty in being thus engaged. And now, O my God, let me meet thee in the more sweet and pleasing duties of reflec|ting meditation, examination and prayer; and find it is good for me to draw near to God. O how doth my soul love and long for those exercises which bring me near to God! Or rather, in which God manifests himself to me. I love my God; I love his laws; I love all those duties he was enjoined on me; and there|fore long for the heavenly employments above. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly!

Sept. 1st. 1754. Sabbath noon. Will God, in very deed, dwell with men? Will he who is the High and Lofty One, who inhabits eternity, condescend to visit worms of the dust? O infinite grace! He will, I know he will. Witness my soul; witness his house and ta|ble; witness this day. O how sweet has been the sea|son! Verily my soul hath found it good to draw near to God; Here I have seen sin to be the worst of evils; and my soul the most polluted, sinful, proud, unhum|bled, ungrateful creature that I can behold on earth. But, O forever adored be God, I saw Christ Jesus, the most amiable and wonderful Redeemer; and I saw him mine. The blessed Spirit assured me of my inter|est in him, and of that covenant relation God the Fa|ther hath condescended to enter into with me, through him. I know, surely I may say, I know I am born of God; for the Spirit himself hath borne witness to this truth, by those evidences of grace; and sealed me to the day of redemption. Blessed be God for this hope. O happy day! O glorious moment, in which God con|veyed life and light to my soul, and brought me into his convenant! O my happy soul! how shall I congrat|ulate thee, on this high and happy relation! Fain I would; but have neither powers of mind fully to con|ceive, nor words to express, this inexpressible, incom|prehensible grace, wherein I stand secure of all the in|valuable blessings of time and eternity, through the al|mighty, allsufficient Mediator, Jesus Christ, my only

hope and confidence towards God, my sure refuge. O my complete Redeemer! by what name or title shall I extol thee? For since I began to admire thee I find there are no bounds to thy amiable and glorious per|fections, as God-Man-Mediator. O 〈…〉〈…〉 of God, you adore and admire him: But it 〈…〉〈…〉 happy lot to claim the most near and tender relation 〈…〉〈…〉 love and serve him, as your Lord and King: But it is my tri|umphant boast to love, admire and rejoice in him, not only as my Lord and King; but as my most kind, ten|der, faithful, allsufficient Redeemer; Yea, my all in all.

O how did these views of these things draw out my soul to renew my choice, and renew every devout res|olution of my soul, to be for him, and to other; and with full purpose of heart, more than ever to serve and, obey him forever! Thus, and more than I am able to recount, did God meet with me in his house, and at his table.

At night. Surely I may say, God has been with me, of a truth, this day. I have sat under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste. The morning was spent in prayer, and a solemn renewal of my covenant. The forenoon in hearing the word. Noon, in commemorating the dying love of my dear Redeemer, in sorrow and joy. This afternoon in sol|emn worship, and hearing his word. This evening in reflection and prayer. Blessed be God! I trust I could say this day, O God, my heart is fixed; solemnly fix|ed and engaged throughout the day. O how sweet such seasons! though my body is ready to faint under them.

Oct. 11th. I am now resolving for God. And, O, how is my soul ashamed and confounded before him! Alas for me! my heart swarms with every lust. My soul appears defiled in every part. I know not what to do. O God, arise, arise, I beseech thee, and quick|en me according to thy word. Awake, my sleeping soul, and arise. And do thou give me life and vigour. Without thee I can do nothing. Through thee I can do all things. O come in, blessed Spirit, and revive my sinking soul. I have been a talking christian; but

make me a feeling, experienced one. I have been a ra|tional one; but make me a spiritual one.

It is now some years, since I have spent a whole night in prayer: and some months, since I have spent a whole day together in the duties of the closet; and some time, since I have lain prostrate before God, in a sol|emn extraordinary confession of sins. All which I have found special helps to keep up the power of relig|ion in my soul. Actual disorders of body and scru|ples about the duty I owe to the body, have, I think, chiefly prevented, when I have had opportunity. But now I am resolving that, through grace, as I have op|portunity, to spend more time this way, than I have of late done. Yet not to cast off all concern about the duties I owe to my body; nor destroy myself: But to make the law of God my rule; religion my business; communion with God, my daily employ; and the glo|ry of God, in regard of body and soul, my highest end and aim.

Oct 14th. O, methinks never did I feel such an af|fecting, humbling, keen remorse for sin, as I have done these five days past. My soul lay prostrate before God, under the deepest sense of my ingratitude, acknowledg|ing the justice of God, if he should dent me the lively, powerful influences of his Spirit: Yet not confound|ed; but with access, allowed to wrestle with Jehovah, and with full assurance to call him my Father, my Re|deemer, my Sanctifier, and my God. O what conde|scension is this! O what grace is here! Did ever God deign to stoop so low, to such a vile, ungrateful wretch as I am? Will the blessed Dove again diffuse his influ|ences over my soul? He will, he will. I feel his sa|cred operation on my heart. O transporting joy! O unparalleled condescension! O unbounded, infinite grave! Now I am thine, forever thine. O let me nev|er more offend against thee. Let me die, rather than grieve thee. O suffer me not ever to act so vile, un|grateful a part, while life remains.

Nov. 17th. I have been from home nine or ten days, and have enjoyed some sweet seasons; but often have found my heart like a deceitful how, or bone out of

joint. I find the power of corruption strong. Lord, I am amazed that there are such remains of sin yet in me. O my soul, what hast thou been doing? Thou hast been in this world above twenty eight years; and always lived under the means of grace. And yet, how unsanctified hast thou remained. For this twelve years, what a rich variety of means hast thou enjoyed, both public, private and secret! How many hundred ser|mons hast thou heard! How many scores of sacra|mental seasons hast thou enjoyed! And how many thousand prayers hast thou put up! How many thou|sand, thousand petitions hast thou joined in, and put up for more sanctification, and greater holiness! And thou knowest, God is a God hearing prayer; and that this is the will of God, even my sanctification. And yet what remains of sin, and how little sanctification appear in my soul! How perverse and stubborn is my will! How dark and blind my understanding! How carnal my affections! Alas, what pride; what hypoc|risy yet remain! How little faith, love, humility, re|pentance, new obedience, sincerity, and holy conform|ity to God, is to be seen in my soul! So that I am even ready to cry out, I am altogether as an unclean thing; that there is nothing but wounds and bruises, and pu|trifying sores; that the whole head is sick and the whole heart faint. And am ready, even to this mo|ment, to complain, that the wounds of sin stink and are corrupt. Such is the running leprosy of sin, that I even now feel, after all the means I have enjoyed for my sanctification.

Gracious God, what have I been doing! How have I trifled with all thy sacred institutions! O let me from this time, after every single duty, strictly inquire what degrees of sanctification I have gained by it. O my God, have I not, in this respect, received the grace of God, or the means of grace, in vain? O methinks I never knew the plague of my heart. It bursts out like a putrid sore, that never was truly healed. Lord, rip open the inmost sides, and let me be ashamed and con|founded, because there are yet such horrid remains of the abominable thing, which thy soul hates; and which

is forever rebelling and going contrary to thee; which is not subject to thy law, nor can it be. And O let the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, be more than ever precious to me: That bless|ed Redeemer, who takes away not only the guilt, but the filth; not only the power, but the pollution of sin. O blessed Saviour, dearest Jesus, thou Son of God, I come, I come to thee; for I have heard thy blood cleanseth from all sin. O, this, this is the sovereign remedy, the balm of Gilead, and thou the only physi|cian. Thy blood only can cure this leprosy: Nothing else will do. The blood of bulls and of goats, and the ashes of an heifer, cannot purge the conscience. Thy blood only, O incarnate God, can cleanse my soul. O make me holy, and take me out of a sinful world. Lord, sanctify my whole soul, and bring me where nothing that is unholy or defileth shall ever enter. O take me out of this defiling world. Lord, my heart is defiled, and methinks all I converse with has a defiling influence on me. O if thou hast yet any thing for me to do or suffer, give me zeal, life and fervour, and let me as an hireling fulfil my task. I am almost impatient to get rid of this defiling heart and world. O my God, deliver, I beseech thee, deliver me from this bond|age of corruption. Have mercy on me, O God, I entreat thee by all thy former clemency; have mercy on me, and free me from this burden of sin, and make me holy; and let me dwell in the holy place, where there are no traces of sin; no resemblance of any thing that thou abhorrest, or that defiles. Lord, make me holy, and I fear no evil. There is nothing I fear but sin, or desire but holiness; for thou art ho|liness. Deny not my request, O Lord, I beseech thee.

God only is witness to the ardent breathings and breakings of my soul for holiness, and entire conform|ity to himself; and perfect freedom from every thing that is not perfectly agreeable to his holy will, and pure nature.

Nov. 18th. Blessed be God, I am assured, neither sin nor Satan shall ever separate my soul from him; that I shall never fall under eternal condemnation:

Yet, O yet, how does sin vex and afflict my soul, be|cause it is contrary to a pure and holy God! On this account I hate and abhor it, and dread it more than the sharpest affliction I ever met with, or can conceive of. And yet, O my God, how insensible am I of its odious nature! How little can I conceive of this infinite evil, as contrary to a holy God! O may I see more and more of it. O let it humble me continually before a holy, sin hating God. Let me never have another proud thought arise; but ever reflect on my hateful defile|ment, my contrariety to God. O may the sad and dreadful remains of indwelling sin keep me low before God, and make Christ infinitely precious, as the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.

I was led this night to query, why I am no more sanctified? Since God's word declares, "This is his will, even your sanctification;" and for this Christ di|ed, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works: And it is his command, "Be ye perfect, even as your Father who is in heaven is perfect:" And again, "Fol|low holiness." And for this he prayed the Father, "Sanctify them through thy truth;" and he said the Father always heard him. And for this cause he gave his Spirit; and it is the will and work of the Spirit to sanctify all that believe. Why am I then no more sanctified? Am I born of God, and yet partake no more of his holiness? Am I united to Christ, as a mem|ber to the head, or a branch to the vine, and yet no more like him? What reason shall I assign? Do I be|lieve these declarations which God has made? Surely God is true, and must be; and yet why then am I not more holy? This then must be the reason, "For these things, saith he, I will be inquired of, to do them." Then, surely then, the fault is in me. I have not sought God for the sanctifying operations of his Spirit; I have not wrestled, as became one of his redeemed ones; as one who had a right to sue for them, in and through Jesus Christ, the great Mediator. I have not laid it enough to heart. I have not been duly sensible of the worth of these things. O my base, slothful, negligent

soul, complain no more; but arise and wrestle, till thou obtain as great degrees of holiness, as ever mortal did, or could.

Nov.—. O blessed be God, that he condescends to take me near himself, and commune with vile, unwor|thy me, after all my backslidings and wanderings from him; and notwithstanding the opposition I meet with from Satan, and my wicked heart. O the horrid nature of sin! Verily it is the worst of the worst of all things. Sin now appears exceeding sinful, extremely odious, as defiling, contrary to a holy God. Christ, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world; not only the power, but pollution; not only the guilt, but the filth, is most precious and lovely. O blessed be God for Jesus Christ! O precious, precious Lord and Sa|viour, prophet, priest and king! O how sweet is it thus to draw near to God, and find him near to my soul! O for a perfect nearness, never more to cease! I know heaven is my home; for I long to get there, where my treasure, my heart, and my hopes are already. I know it is the land of promise; for these clusters are the foretaste, pledges and earnest of my inheritance. This, this communion with God is the dawn of glory, and anticipation of eternal life.

January 31st, 1755. I have been all this week trying to spend a day, or part of a day, with God in secret; but every day has had its necessary incumbrances, clog and hindrance. Last night had some glimpse of light, peace, joy and confidence in God; but it was soon gone. This day I have set myself to prayer, and re|viewing my various experiences, if possible to give a turn to my mind; but I scarce know what I am about. My head is pained, confused and bewildered, so that I get lost. My heart, I know not what it is. I always found it wicked; but I have little humbling sense of it now. I tell God, I am as vile a wretch as ever lived; but I am not affected with it. I tell him, I want none but him; that he is the only real good; but I feel no realizing sense of his divine, infinite excellence. I be|lieve these things, because I once felt the power of them; and not because I now see. My eyes run down

with tears, while I express these things, before my more stupid heart is affected. O what a soul have I! The members and organs of my body are more affected than that: My tongue to complain, my eyes to weep.

Feb. 1st. I was forced from those duties yesterday; my bodily illness increasing so that I was scarce able to hold up my head. And this day I find myself so dis|ordered, that I can attend on no duty with any fixed en|gagedness. Well, my God, I am thine. Let me not re|pine; but quietly bear thy hand.

Feb. 1st. At night. Blessed be God for nearer access, and enlargement in prayer, with two or three christian friends, this afternoon; and some freedom this night, though attended with bodily disorders. O when will the happy day of release arrive!

July 3d, 1755. Fast day. Much incumbered last night; unfit for preparation for the exercises of this day: And so awaked this morning, unsettled as to the partic|ular duties of the day. Yet God graciously afforded some near and lively access to him, in prayer for Zion, both in secret, public and private. My soul reached after God, and laid hold on the truth, faithfulness, and almighty power of Jehovah, and head of the church. Sure I am, without a scruple, that I prefer Jerusalem to my chief joy. I almost forget my own private and spiritual concerns, only as they stand in relation to, and are included in, the prosperity of Zion. If Christ has a church in the world, and they are all united together, as members in the body, and united to Christ, as their head, I surely feel the inseparable union, beyond all the ties of nature, or law of common friendship. Strong in|fluence, powerful efficacy! But weary and spent in family and secret duties at night. O frail and faulter|ing flesh! When shall I get free!

Feb. 5th, 1757. A sweet morning! My soul engaged with God in prayer, for myself, the whole world, the protestant nations, our nation and land, the whole church; all the ministers, particular ministers and christian friends. Sweet access; blessed freedom, through Je|sus Christ, God-Man, my dear, glorious Mediator. O how sweet such a season! Though my spirits were ex|hausted,

and unfit for other duties. Found my body needed refreshment.

Some sense of divine things at noon; but not so en|gaged: More broken in my thoughts. Sent for to vis|it a dear, sick christian friend. Had some sweet chris|tian conversation. Felt straitened, at night, and not well. Endeavoured Solemnly to renew my covenant; and trust I was clear, fixed and hearty in the dedication and consecration of my whole self, body and soul, and every member, power or faculty; all I am, and all I have; every interest or concern, temporal, spiritual and eternal: Yea, I think there was not the least reserve; not the least iota, but was solemnly given up to God. All that my engaged soul could comprehend or appre|hend, that did or could relate to me, was heartily com|mitted to God. And I trust I was enabled as cordial|ly, and as unreservedly, to embrace the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, as my everlasting portion. Yea, I trust I did embrace the whole Trinity, for all that I could conceive or apprehend an infinite God could be or do to and for me, for time and eternity, for soul or body.

And thus I am the Lord's. I am the Lord's only▪ solely, and forever: And I rejoice in this disposal of myself. And thus the Lord is mine; and I boast and glory in my portion. And now, blessed be God for Jesus Christ! What more can I say? Here, here I must dwell; blessed be God for Jesus Christ!

Feb. 9th. Blessed be God! I trust I do enjoy some sweet communion with God in prayer, every season, and have a sweet relish of spiritual things on my heart, more or less, all the day; but cannot attain to deep, fixed, and solemn meditation. Since Sabbath day, my head is disordered. It is well, blessed be God, that I am allowed a taste. Thou art my center: Here I would rest, and long for the happy day of dear release. O thou blessed portion of my soul, draw me, and I will run after thee. When thou givest me strength and nearness, I resolve, through grace, to follow hard after thee. But when thou dost weaken my strength in the way, I will wait and hope, look and love; and say, Thou dost all things well.

Lord, I now find the creature cannot satisfy. Thou only art my dear delight. O the sweetness of religion! Its ways are ways of pleasantness, and all its paths are peace. I find, I feel the dear yoke of Christ is easy, and his burdens light. O happy soul, who has listed under this blessed Captain, and has entered into his ser|vice. Blessed be God! I trust I do know, experimen|tally, that they have great peace, who love thy law. And with this let me lay me down, and sleep; for thou shalt keep me.

Feb. 19th. I hope some fixedness and refreshment, yesterday morning. The rest of the day abroad with the sick. Blessed be God, that I can be any comfort or help to the afflicted and helpless. Composed and re|freshed, last night. More wandering and hurried this morning. Went again to visit the sick. Found my sick friend dying in distress. Begged me to pray for her. Prayed for herself. "For a Christ, O for a Christ! for the precious blood of Christ to be applied to my soul! No blood of bulls or of goats would save; but the precious blood of Christ. Mercy, Lord▪ mer|cy, Lord!" And so she died. O may this affecting scene make an abiding impression on my soul! O the importance of a dying hour; when time is closing and eternity opening! O what but a Christ can then afford the least comfort or support! And this hope my friend had. I cannot but trust she fell asleep in Jesus. If her faith was weak, her passage was easy: She died like a lamb, at last.

O how much wisdom and goodness has God showed to me, that I was here: The more so, because it was a family which had appeared much prejudiced against me, ever since I made a profession of religion, till of late. And now I had an opportunity to magnify my pro|fession, by being kind, and doing good, not only to the sick; but to a dear relative of hers, who had cast my name out as evil. O that I might be able thus to requite all who abuse me! What a christian love and harmony is between us now! And now, I would make this improvement of this providence—Never to resent

any injury; but leave it with God to vindicate me: And it will then always turn out well.

And again, I would improve this providence, to pre|pare for my own dissolution. Die I must; but when, and under what circumstances, thou only knowest. Nor is it much matter, so I be but found in Christ. O my soul, thou hast this dying work to do. Thou hast this dark, unknown valley to pass. Thou hast this king of terrors to encounter. O, art thou prepared? Can thy faith, can thy present hopes, bear thee out? Thou art often longing for the blessed vision of God; but O what will be thy frame, when Death, grim, ghastly Death, stares thee in the face, and holds thee in his iron jaws, while the piercing cries and shrieks of dear rela|tives strike through thy tender fond heart? O Death, I have not known thee. I have not yet passed through thy territory. I cannot mark the gloomy way. But my Christ, my captain and guide has; and having him with me, I cannot miscarry. Then it shall be my re|newed care to have him really and sensibly with me, both in life and death.

March 12th. Was waked with the cry of fire, just by us, as the day dawned. Soon felt much disordered. Not enlarged in reading or in meditation. Felt serious; but could not get near my God in prayer, for some time. Felt not able to strive, nor any drawings of soul to God; yet remembered my yesterday's frame, and was unwilling to leave the duty, without some communion with God. And, blessed be God, I began to feel some desire and drawings of my soul, and closed with them, until, I trust, I enjoyed sweet, intimate communion with the blessed God, through Jesus Christ, my dear Re|deemer. My passions were much moved; and I knew there was some degree of bodily disorders working in my frame; yet, I trust, there was the distinct exercise of grace. I longed for the grace of faith and humility. O how did I long to lie in the dust, and live on God for every mercy; to be nothing, and Christ all; to be broken off from all dependence below God; to sit un|der his table, and be fed with the crumbs which fall from it.

I felt no desires after great prosperity, or high joys. As to temporals, I was willing, yea, I think, desirous to receive all by morsels and crumbs, as I thought it was the will of God I should. Only I desired that he would feed me. And as to spirituals, I rather desired to take deep root, than to flourish. A humble, child|like temper did appear most desirable. I trust I hearti|ly chose conformity to God, before comfort; humili|ty, holiness, rather than joy. O surely I had access to the throne of grace! But my strength has failed; and I have been exceedingly disordered all the day since. O come, Lord Jesus, O come and finish thy work. Let heaven succeed. I hope some refreshment this night; but not enlarged as usual, for the church, or the ap|proaching Sabbath.

May 27th. God has been graciously pleased, for these several days, to draw out my soul for dear Zion. I have begun my prayer with some petitions for myself; but my thoughts have turned on Zion, and I have scarce thought of myself any more, only as a member of Zi|on, and a partaker, with the whole body, of every bless|ing. O how has God enlarged my soul, and held me up to wrestle with him on Zion's behalf, until my nerves have been so strained, that the back part of my head and neck have been so swelled and sore, that I could scarce move it; and have been obliged to take to my bed, from my knees! After which, I have thought it my duty to desist from any close exercise of mind, until I have recovered: And then I have found the same gra|cious assistance.

O how good is God, that he will allow a poor, pol|luted worm of the dust, to speak to him, who is the High and Lofty One, who inhabits eternity! It has sometimes been suggested, that I should strain my head so that distraction would follow. But though this be an affliction, which of all evils, except sin, I apprehend the forest; and from which I most reluct; yet I have been enabled, I trust, sweetly to commit myself to God; and could trust even a distracted body and mind to the care and protection of my heavenly Father. This though more to be dreaded than death, I felt disposed to sub|mit

to, trusting my all into the hands of a faithful God, who has excited these most ardent desires for his glory, and the prosperity of his church; and has engaged my soul to wrestle for blessings on his church and people, in a manner unaccountable to me; and why, I knew not: But by the event, I have been confirmed that the secrets of the Lord are with them that fear him; and to them he will show his covenant. Yea, notwithstand|ing all my inward conflicts, and the accusations of Sa|tan against me, I have been encouraged. If I had re|garded iniquity in my heart, God would not hear me: But verily God hath heard me; he hath attended to the voice of my prayer. O amazing condescension!

June 26th, 1757. Very heavy this morning. Lay in bed too late. Had but little time or heart for secret duties. Went up to God's sanctuary. Felt somewhat serious and engaged in public duties; but more lively at noon, in company; but not so fixed this afternoon. Came home: Felt little composure for prayer. I tri|ed to read and meditate; but found I did but trifle: Could no way get my mind fixed; but time ran to waste. I resolved to go to God for a suitable frame; to spend some time in prayer for dear Zion, our nation and land. Felt great opposition from Satan, and my own heart. Discouraging suggestions, as though I had no warrant to be importunate with God for our nation and land. But I urged, that God had commanded us to pray, and to give him no rest, till he establish, and till he make Jerusalem a praise in the earth: That even when he forbad Moses to pray for his people, to testify his anger; yet he graciously heard, and manifested his approbation of Moses, and his zeal and fervency. I confessed my own infinite unworthiness to open my mouth, and the unworthiness of our sinful, guilty na|tion and land of any mercy. I acknowledged his in|finite justice and righteousness, should he utterly and forever reject us, and make us an heap and desolation. I lamented the general stupidity which had seized the whole nation; and that we appeared to be a people ripe for sudden and awful destruction; to be given up into the hands of our enemies; that they should enter, not

only into our borders, but into our bowels: That our nation and land should become a reproach among the heathen, and the scorn and triumph of our antichristian enemies. But, then, what would God do for his own great name? Had he not said that thus and thus he would do with Israel, were it not that he feared the wrath of the enemy, and that their adversaries should behave them|selves strangely; and lest they should say, Our hand is high, and the Lord hath not done all this? I pleaded, that he who was infinitely above all fear or restraint from men or devils, had thus condescended to give us arguments to plead with him. But if he was fixed in his purpose to destroy us, as a nation; yet, I pleaded his promise to his church. That the gates of hell should not prevail against it; that he would send his gospel into the dark corners of the earth, and yet have a pecu|liar people; and that his name might yet be glorified in the earth.

I adored his sovereignty; acknowledged his justice; and, I trust, submitted to his hand: Yet again was strengthened to plead for the nations of the reformation, our nation and land, until a most violent pain seized the nerves of my head, which were much strained, and forced me for some moments of desist. But my soul now being engaged, I made another attempt to contin|ue; but was seized with such extreme sickness, as took away all my strength, and almost life. Cold and help|less I lay, while nature struggled hard for life. And I am much thoughtful whether there is not much of the agency of Satan in these turns, as I find hard inward conflicts, Satan strongly resisting me, when engaged for dear Zion. Almost all my engagedness, and access to God, of late, has been for Zion: And for about two weeks, I have not once had lively access, but I have been broken up by a sudden turn of bodily disorders; though I have been able to attend other duties, with fixedness and attention; besides, a great variety of in|ward temptations. Yet, O may God but hold me wrestling for his dear cause and interest; may I but prevail with him by faith, through Jesus the glorious Redeemer, for his dear church; here I am, at his wise

and gracious disposals of me: Only, may he be my strength and stay. Lord, I know thou dost not need me, nor my poor prayers. It is only by thee that I am allowed to open my unworthy, polluted lips. Lord, it is infinite condescension in thee, that thou wilt suffer me to take thy sacred name on my unhallowed tongue.

Wednesday, June 29th, 1759. This day, rose early, and improved my time, that I might be prepared for the hour from seven until eight. I then addressed the throne of grace for public blessings. Was enlarged in confessing and lamenting the national sins and guilt, till the hour was expired. Alas! what a few of the many particulars thereof, can be enumerated in one hour. I seemed but to touch on them, in the time. Good God, what a world of iniquity is this! I know not where to begin, or where to end, in the enumera|tion of our sins. O what infinite patience has borne with such vile rebels as we! Lord, what a world is this! What a den of unclean beasts! What a sink of sin! What an inhospitable wilderness have thy dear saints, who live now, to pass through, in their way home! O relieve their pain; alleviate their thirst, by some kind cordial, some foretaste and pledge of their heavenly inheritance. Continued in prayer, till strength and spirits failed.

Thursday, June 30th. This being the last Thursday in the month; a day which some pious persons have devoted to prayer for the prosperity of Zion, our nation and land; and on which is our lecture; I would ob|serve it, as far as my health and my circumstances would allow.

Enjoyed some freedom in prayer. Read Britain's Remembrancer. Was ready to say, from a view of our aggravated guilt, It is a gone case with our nation! God will show us, by his judgments, what we would not learn by his mercies. Went up to God's house; heard his word; and hope I had some sense of divine things. Returned home, with desire to enjoy God in secret; where I set myself to meditate, and examine, in order to prepare for the holy supper: And to leave the concerns of Zion and our nation and land for after

meditation and prayer. After some serious examina|tion, I attempted to pray; endeavouring to confine myself to my own case. But while I was wrestling with God for grace and large communications at his table, to preserve me in this evil, sinful time, my desire would enlarge for the same grace for all his dear saints, who were travelling the same pilgrimage, hungry, and hard bestead, groaning under the same evils that attended me.

I had a lively sense of the sin and guilt of our nation and land. And while pleading for them, I had such a sense of the injury done to the divine name and law, by their sin, and of the reasonableness that the divine Being should arise, and vindicate his injured attributes, against rebellious worms, though he should utterly con|sume them; and such ardent desires for his glory, that I freely gave up the nation and land to the will of God. The language of my soul was, "Lord, spare us, if thou wilt redeem us; but I cannot wish we should be spared to revolt any more. Thy glory is infinitely more dear to me, than any thing else; and I freely sac|rifice all to that. But O, if it be thy will, take me from the evil to come; and let me not see the evil that will come on this people; but this with submission to the divine will."

O what a precious season was this! How ardent were my desires for every member of Christ's body. O how did I feel the unity of the spirit! And how earnest for sparing mercy for our nation and land! And what a lively sense of the dishonour done to the glorious attributes of God, by our sins! And what a holy revenge against sin, and humble submission to the divine will! What a hearty consent, that God should vindicate his injured name and laws! O how sweetly composed, and swallowed up, was my soul, in the glory of that God, that best of beings, whom I saw infinitely just and righteous, and yet infinitely affront|ed, abused and contemned, by despicable worms of the dust! O how was I enabled to cast all my cares and burdens, public and private, national and personal, up|on this best of beings! O how is my soul now at rest in God! Blessed, forever blessed be God, for this sea|son

of sweet communion with him! Though spent in body, yet sweet peace in mind.

January 17th, 1761. My head has been much dis|ordered this week; yet, thanks be to God, I trust it has been better with me, than in the last week. I hope some sweet access for myself, and the dear afflicted church, to which I belong. Felt a tender sympathy with my dear pastor; begged direction; and wrote a letter to him this day. May God bless it! I have de|voted my pen to him; and what he shall assist to write, that I commit to his blessing. I know I have but lit|tle faculty, at present, for writing; but if God delight in me he can assist and bless: But, if not, here I am; let the Lord do as seemeth good to him.

I have this week been ready to think I should be ex|ercised with some sharp trials, from the frame of my mind. For when I have endeavoured to realize the most sore and trying affliction coming on me, I have rather embraced, than drawn back; because I believ|ed, if God called me thereto, I should see his salvation. And O, communion with God is all I can wish. O I am weary of life! O for conformity to God, and en|joyment of him! At present, I seem to have no hopes or fears about the world. If God will but sanctify and satisfy my soul, it is enough. O my God, my God, thine I am. O take me into thine own merciful and gracious hands. Subdue every lust. Conform me to thy blessed law. Resign me to thy sovereign will. Delight thou in me. Make me to delight in thee, and it is all; I have no request, beyond this. Lord, if thou seest me slighting temporal blessings, O correct this error; for I know I am absolutely dependent on thee. But O, conformity and communion with thee, appears the one, the only one thing needful. With thy smiles, I can be happy on a dunghill, or in a dun|geon. Without thee, I must be miserable in a palace. O hold not my soul at a distance from thyself, thou only best of beings, thou center of my soul, thou end of all my wishes. Thou art the boundless bound of immortal desire. My God, my God! the fathomless ocean of delight; it is thy own infinite dignity to be

selfsufficient and independent. And it is my highest felicity to be dependent and insufficient; but in an all|sufficient God, through an allsufficient and most glo|rious Mediator. O here, here let my soul forever rest; and all my wishes, all my hopes, be forever fixed.

April 4th. Thanks be to God, I have enjoyed more peace and tranquillity of mind this week than for a long time. I awaked on Monday morning from dreams which had a tendency to distract my fancy; but, bless|ed, forever blessed be God, some sense of his perfec|tions stayed my soul: And I have seen such a fulness here, as made me willing to relinquish all hopes or ex|pectations from the world, for such discoveries. O here I found a solid, rational satisfaction, beyond what all this world can give. I felt myself at once weaned from it; and God only a suitable good. Here the is|sue was staunched; and here my soul rested. O this, I found, was the cause of my former weanedness from the world; the discoveries I then had of the perfec|tions of God, the transcendent glories of the divine na|ture, and the foretaste I then had of heaven.

I now felt reconciled to a weak, sickly body, which of late I had so dreaded, if it might be a mean of shut|ting my eyes to the world, and opening them on God and eternity. I felt indifferent; yea, reluctant, to the pleasures and amusements of life, and reconciled to the trials of it. Nor have daily occurrences made any great impressions on my mind. But I find my views abate. O Lord, revive them!

October 17th. Thanks be to God! this night my desires were so enlarged, and I had so much to say, that I knew not how to leave off, even when bodily strength was exhausted. O what a good God have I! What a good master do I serve, in whose service is great delight. I have devoted myself to him. O may I be devoted to the service of the sanctuary; a conse|crated vessel, though of the meanest use! Here I am, O Lord. Set me apart for thyself. Wilt thou conde|scend to take me into thy service. Though I minister not publicly before the Lord, in holy things; yet fain would I be devoted to the service of the sanctuary, in

secret, solemn, and fervent supplication. Especially, may I consecrate myself, and the Saturday night, and Sabbath day, for this service of his sanctuary; that his gracious presence, assistance and influences may be granted to all his churches. God seems to be inclin|ing my heart to this public service, in a private, se|cret way. And blessed be God, who is inclining my heart to forsake every false way; and to greater en|deavours to perfect holiness, in his fear. O my God, thou knowest my sincerity. Accept and improve me; for I am thine. But O, bear my expenses: Furnish and supply me, for, and in the service. I know thou wilt get nothing by me; yet, O boundless grace, fulfil my humble, yet bold request. Lord, I trust my eyes are not lofty, or my heart haughty, when I beg to be improved in the service of thy sanctuary. I feel dis|posed to bring the cases of God's people, mentioned in public, into private, secret prayers. O that God would set me apart for himself!

But O, let me not forget the duties of the private station, in which God has placed me. I have many relative duties incumbent on me, which I am too apt to forget, neglect, or perform too superficially. O let me not now, under pretence of more extraordinary ser|vices, overlook these. But let me now, while I am offering myself to the service of the sanctuary; devot|ing myself to God, and waiting on him, for the spirit of prayer and supplication, be setting myself to study my several relations in life, and the duties of each.

November 4th, 1761. Nineteen years ago, this day,* 1.12 I gave myself up to God, in a public, solemn cove|nant, and swore allegiance to King Jesus, as my only rightful Lord and King, and vowed submission to him. O my God, what a barren fig tree have I been, in thy vineyard! I blush, and am ashamed of my wretched unfaithfulness, under all thy rich cultivations. O when shall I be transplanted under thy immediate sun beams; where there is not one barren and unfruitful? O that the ensuing year might place me in the paradise of my

God, to go no more out forever. Methinks my warfare is near at an end. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly.

November 5th. I strove to spend last evening sol|emnly with God; but attained to nothing more than hard conflicts. And, this day, on which I am thirty five years old, I would fain have spent in humble confes|sion, devout adoration, and in self dedication; but bod|ily disorders have prevented. Nor could I attain to that cheerful, hearty submission, I ought, and desired to ex|ercise. O God, few and evil indeed have been the years of my pilgrimage. It has afforded me some strength this night by reflecting, that the great Captain of my salvation has conquered sin and Satan. That there ever was, and will be, enmity between the seed of the woman, and the seed of the serpent. That Christ ever knew the strong opposition Satan would make; and therefore conquered him for all his elect. And yet, as Christ was made perfect, through sufferings, so must every child taste of the cup. Satan's enmity is against Christ himself, to distress and destroy his in|terest as much as possible: But he shall never prevail. Christ will maintain his throne, though earth and hell oppose. He has conquered, and will defeat the pow|ers of darkness; and not one of his members shall be hurt. O my Redeemer, what support does this afford my poor soul! And will not he, who has preserved me these 35 years, still preserve? But O, have I attained to but half the years of the human life! How does this damp my soul! O cut short the tedious days! But let them be well improved. Gracious Redeemer, when I reflect on the amazing conflicts I have had, I am ready to say, Why has such a reed been set up, as a mark for Satan's rage? But I trust thou wilt hereby ordain praise to thy victorious, all conquering power and grace. Sure I am, didst thou not keep me by thy almighty power, I had long before now fallen a prey in|to the teeth of this devouring lion. O glorious Re|deemer, leave me not: For the moment thou dost leave me, I fall a sacrifice to the malice and craft of this serpent. I am amazed at the vigilance of Satan! If he cannot terrify, he will allure. If he cannot gain

his end himself, he will take unto him seven, yea a le|gion, of other spirits. And if spirits prevail not, men shall be used as instruments to carry on his designs, by frowns or by flatteries. O, methinks, if ever I get to heaven, I shall be a miracle of power and grace. But hitherto thou hast preserved me. Through thy grace, I have stood the siege of 35 years; sometimes enabled to sally out, under thee the great Captain of my salvation, and put the enemy to flight. At other times they have been suffered to approach near the walls, and made great breaches. O how often have I been brought in|to deep waters, where I could find no place for my feet. At other times, thou hast led me through Jordan; and I have, as it were, taken stones out of the bottom, while my feet have stood on dry ground.

Thus, O God, hast thou led me 35 years to this day. And here I am, a living monument of thy power and goodness. O furnish me with greater degrees of grace; and hasten my escape from this Sodom. I have wait|ed for thy salvation. When shall my soul be satisfied with thy favour, which is my life? O when shall these shadows flee away? O when shall it be all bright, im|mortal day, without a setting sun forever?

November 8th. Sabbath day. Hard struggle with Satan and a disordered body, last night, and this day. Blessed be God, attained some attention and engag|edness in his house, this morning, after much wan|dering and discouragement. But all my hope is in God. Past sins and failings are Satan's bait (and I am persuaded he is permitted to charge me with un|known faults) these I would lament, and fly to Jesus for pardon and cleansing; but not be discouraged, since Jesus ever lives my glorious advocated above. I know sin and Satan would fain separate me from Christ Je|sus, my Lord; but since he has promised sin shall not, in its guilt, blemish or blot the justification of his peo|ple, which is complete in him; so I ought not to let it separate from his consolations, by its discouraging in|fluence on me.

Rouse up, O my soul, fly, cling to thy Redeemer, who delights in those who hope in his mercy. I have

trusted, and shall never be ashamed. I have commit|ted my everlasting all into his faithful hands. I daily renew my trust and confidence in him. I have given up myself, and my all to him. I am at his disposal, and count it all my happiness to be for him, and no other. One thing, and only one thing, as first and su|preme, have I desired; and that do I diligently seek after: To glorify God, and enjoy him. I am deter|mined for nothing else, and none else but God. Mas|ter, I love thee, and thy service, and will not consent to leave it. I have renewed my solemn choice, and am endeavouring to put far from me every iniquity, as I hate every false way, and practise every known duty. I trust I am now actually engaged to lay aside every weight, and the sins which most easily beset me. Let the Lord do with me what seemeth good to him. Let him give prosperity, or adversity, comfort, or distress; I am determined, by his grace to follow hard after him, to endeavour after an entire submission to all his dis|pensations, a cordial compliance with every known duty, a firm and resolute resistance of every sinful de|sire, or temptation. It is meet to be said to God, I have borne chastisement, I will offend no more. O may his grace be sufficient, and his strength made per|fect in my weakness! If God afford light, peace and joy, I shall go on my way rejoicing: But if farther trials and conflicts await me, let him lead and guide me. I am his, and at his disposal. Let me never re|pine, so he do but glorify himself in me. What though I be brought by ways I know not, and led in paths that I have not known; yet he hath promised to made dark|ness light, and crooked things straight, and not forsake. Amen, and amen. O God, thy word is enough; thy promise is a sufficient security.

November 25th. O my everlasting immutable refuge! When wilt thou appear for my relief? I am under no apprehension of an eternal separation: But why hidest thou thy comforting, quickening face, at this time, while devils and inward lusts vex and distract my soul? O how are my strength and heart broken with these fi|ery conflicts! All my hope is in thee. O let me not

be ashamed of my confidence. It has been my long boasted triumph, that I never came before thy throne, and found thee loth to hear; that I always found thee a God ready at hand, in times of need; and while I was yet speaking, thou didst answer. But why dost thou now seem to shut thine eyes and ears at my dis|tress? Lord, thou knowest I hate these lusts and cor|ruptions. I long for nothing so much as entire con|formity to thee; a cordial and absolute subjection to thy sovereign will: And this makes the conflict with all that oppose. Lord, here I am. Fulfil the whole good pleasure of thy grace in me, and the work of faith with power. Complete what thou hast begun, and art about, however distressing. I am thine; make me what thou wilt have me to be. Spare not the rod, to spoil thy child. Thou best knowest what is best for me. Father, I submit. Let me not reluct. It is right thou shouldest take thine own way. I glory in thine adora|ble sovereignty. I would not, for a thousand worlds, be left to my own choice. I had ruined myself eter|nally, long before now, if left to myself. I need hard things. I have an untoward, proud, stubborn heart, that needs bit and bridle, curb and spur, and the lash too. O shameful, hateful character of a redeemed soul! Lord, never leave me, till thou hast reduced me to a better temper; and then preserve me in it, or I shall nev|er keep it. I trust I have a principle of real grace; but I cannot keep it; I cannot exercise it of myself. All my sufficiency is of thee. O omnipotent Redeem|er, maintain thy conquest. Thou hast conquered me, sin and Satan; though they would fain rend me from thy almighty arms. But in thee I trust.

Feb. 1762. Blessed be God that my salvation is not in myself, nor from myself: But in Christ Jesus is full redemption. Glory to God! all I want is in the Son of his love: And I have sufficient warrant to come freely, and take boldly, all I want for myself, and give to God all I owe to him, out of this same fountain. Here I have wisdom, righteousness and sanctification; and here I have redemption; the full price to plead with God. True, I have sinned; but Christ has died.

Here is my advocate. Look on my shield, the face of thine annointed, and turn not away from me. O my soul, sink not into thyself. Grovel not thus in thy own cor|ruptions; but stretch thy thoughts to infinite fulness. Here is enough; and it is offered to thee. Take it free|ly. God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, bids thee come and welcome. Here I have enough; durable riches and righteousness: Enough for time and eternity. Spend freely, my soul, thou hast goods laid up for endless years. Feast forever, the stores will never be exhausted. Fare sumptuously ev|ery day. Put freely on thy wedding garments. Free|ly eat, and freely drink. There are dainties enough in my Father's house. O my soul, pinch not, pine not, when there is bread enough, and to spare, and wines on the lees, well refined. Here is infinite fulness, freely offered. God has prepared it for thee; and thou shalt soon be at the fountain head in glory. Let faith now fetch in large supplies, till thou dost arrive where faith shall be turned into fruition.

June 6th. Attended public worship three times this day, and sat down at Christ's table: But very much in|disposed in body and mind. I am persuaded these dis|orders are the attendants of this dark state of things: But shall sly, as a fog before the sun, when God arises to favour Zion. I live in the faith of this.

O God, wilt thou serve thyself by me! What am I, or what can I do? O do thou serve thyself by me; and then I do answer the great end of my being. O how sweet is it now to me to think of God's serving himself by me! To this I now feel disposed to give up all my comforts; all my wishes or desires; and all seems centered here. O if this wise good God will but serve himself by me, it is the whole of my being: It is the highest dignity, the best employ, the dearest lot in life. Being interested in thy special favour, through Christ, what more can I desire, but that thou shouldest serve thyself by me. Here I am, O Lord, and have devoted all I am to thee and thy service. O glorious privilege! O grant me this request, in which I see such unspeakable delight; and in which every

desire and wish seems answered, and every good im|plied; as to please and glorify thee is perfect felicity to me.

Sept. 4th. This night was enabled to cry to God, as the God of Zion, for help, under his awful withdraw|ings; sensible that none but he could help. I hope he did excite desires, give strength, and show me my un|worthiness, who was but dust and ashes, a worm of the earth, to speak unto the Majesty of heaven. Yet, un|der some sense of his supporting influence, I was em|boldened to wrestle. I trust he gave me some view of the dependence of all creatures and things on him, for life, being and motion; that as all things and creatures were created by him, so they were continually depend|ent upon him. That the highest angel in heaven; yea, all the thousands, and ten thousand of thousands, the innumerable millions that surrround the throne of God, both saints and angels, are dependent on him: With all the stars of heaven, and foundations of the earth: All the beasts of the field, from behemoth, to the mean|est reptile that crawls: All the fishes of the sea, from leviathan, to the least fish that inhabits the watery world: All the fowls of heaven, to the least fly that traces the air: Not only the animate, but the inanimate also, from the tallest cedar, and sturdy oak, to the meanest reed or rush, or spire of grass that grows; from the largest mountain, to the smallest atom; are supported by his influence and energy. Joined to these, I saw the whole race of mortals, that ever were, or ev|er should be, supported, upheld and governed by this God, to whom I was now applying for his gracious aids and spiritual influences on the hearts of his peo|ple. How did my finite thoughts stretch to take in this numberless number of creation; and then the un|bounded Infinity, which sustained, supported, supplied and governed them, out of his own infinite selfsuffi|ciency! And O, from my (yet too low) conception of this Being, and all these things, did I plead, that his dear saints might not be left as a barren heath, destitute of his life giving influence. O, in what extreme pov|erty and want, did I behold Zion, at this day; and cri|ed

out for the Lord God of Elijah, the God and Fa|ther of our Lord Jesus, and the residue of the Spirit; that he would appear and own his own institutions, and manifest the power of his resurrection, on the ensuing day of the Son of Man. I cried after a departing God.

Alas, what an awful time is this! Is not God gone up from among us? Is not that glory that once filled his temple, scarce discernible, in its remotest part? Good God, shall not thy people cry after thee, O help, O help, Lord God of our salvation! And while thou art thus sustaining, influencing and enlightening the natural world, as its creator and preserver, O let not the great Head of his church suspend spiritual influenc|es. Shouldst thou withdraw thy sustaining influence, creation sinks into its primitive nothing. And O shouldst thou withdraw thy vital influence from thy church, and children, it withers as a sapless branch. O turn us to thee, and cause thy face to shine upon us, and we shall be saved.

Sept. 5th. Blessed be God, I trust I had gracious access this morning, for his presence in his house. And I think I may call it a good day; my soul was engaged. Entertained from Luke xvii. 5. "Lord in|crease our faith." Sweet, instructing and strengthen|ing truths. A word of reproof and comfort to me con|cerning Zion, that Zion's God reigns. O blessed be God for this Sabbath! And I am willing it should be my last. I endeavoured to hear, 〈◊〉〈◊〉 and improve, as my last. I trust God was in this place and did not leave himself without witness, that he is the exciter and in|diter, the hearer and answerer of prayer. I viewed my|self as passing off the stage of time, into boundless eter|nity. The things of time and sense shrank into noth|ing; and I was serious, and solemnly▪ willing to put from this mortal shore.

O that thou wouldest water the seed this day sown O do thou give the increase. O my God, I cannot let thee go, unless thou wilt arise and bless Zion. I cannot see this evil on Zion, and hold my peace. I cannot see this general and awful declension: I can|not see this abounding profaneness, and immorality;

this amazing blindness, stupidity and security, and be unconcerned. I cannot hear the complaints of thy dear children, and feel the same cause in myself, and be silent. O thou God of Zion, arise. O thou Al|mighty Arm, awake. Dost thou not see; and dost thou not regard? O thou who art jealous for thy name and worship, dost thou not behold thy assemblies? How heavy, dull, dark and wandering thy own children are! How stupid, secure, careless, and vain, sinners are? O! Is not thy worship, which ought to be lively, spir|itual and holy, degenerated, in most of thy churches, to mere bodily exercises? I fear there is not one soul, at this day, in all thy churches, that worships thee, as thou wast worshipped in primitive times. O God, how is the gold become dim! O, what deadness, what blindness, has overspread us!

Once I was greatly engaged for Zion, on account of outward circumstances; but I seem scarcely to think of that now, under her most melancholy spiritual dan|gers. I fear God is about to say, Let her that is filthy, be filthy still. O for that rest that remains to thy peo|ple. O show me thy glory. If I may not see more of thee here, take me to heaven. My God, my God, thou knowest I love thee above all things else. Let me not despise the bounties of thy providence. But take me near to thyself. Dost thou not know my de|sire is after thee? O does not every wish center in thee? Dost thou not fill all my thoughts? Is not the whole bent of my thoughts, from my first waking, to my last, after thee? Do I not pursue thee all the day? O let nothing turn me aside, till I find thee. O let neither riches, pleasures nor honours, nor all the best enjoyments of earth, stay my pursuit, or amuse my soul for a moment.

September 7th. Thanks be to God, though I am perfect weakness, I have Omnipotence to rest on. Though I am ignorant as a beast, and have no knowl|edge, I have infinite wisdom to apply to. And this God has said, "To those who have no might, he in|creaseth strength." And he hath said, "I will instruct and teach thee in the way thou shalt go. I will guide

thee by mine eye. Commit thy way unto the Lord, and he shall direct thy path." Amen, and amen! Ful|fil thy word unto thy handmaid; the word on which thou hast caused me to rest.

Blessed be God for heart's case, by prayer; and heart strength, by emptying itself into infinite fulness. O happy moment, when this finite vapour shall ascend to infinite fulness, and be fed and nourished by substan|tial realities! And this bubble swim in the infinite ocean: This drop of the bucket be most sensibly en|circled in the everlasting fountain; and this single par|ticle of the dust of the balance, be a pillar in the tem|ple of my God! O when, my God, shall darkness and distance vanish? O when shall my heaven commence? when my God shall be all and in all; the perfection of being and excellency; my everlasting, consummate bliss? I received my being from thee, and shall never be happy but in thee. I enjoy myself only in reach|ing and stretching into thy fulness.

O glory to thy name, for this most wise, most just, most gracious way of salvation by Jesus Christ; and sanctification by the blessed Spirit: This union with God; and this transformation into thy image. O what shall hinder my everlasting communion with thee, since I am brought nigh by the blood of thy Son, and in some measure conformed to thee, by thy blessed Spirit? I have committed my everlasting all to Jesus Christ: Have come in on the terms of the gospel: Flew for refuge to the hope set before me. And I es|teem all thy precepts, concerning all things, to be right; and hate every false way: And neither wish nor seek any good, in earth or heaven, but the fullest enjoyment of God; and all that is implied in this.

September 8th. Blessed be God for that gracious ac|cess he allows me; though, for the most part, when I begin prayer, I know not what to say, or ask, as though I had not words or desires. But, glory to the blessed Spirit, who ordinarily helps my infirmity, and engages my heart. This night it came to my turn to pray with his dear handmaids. But O I knew not what to say; and a pain in my head seemed to unfit me. But I dare

not refuse; though I expected great straitness. I beg|ged assistance; yet I feared the desire might rise from pride: And, therefore, I hope, submitted to God. But O how gracious was God to me: What kind access! What desires did he put in my heart, and arguments in my mouth! I seemed to find a childlike freedom and confidence. My requests were chiefly for Zion; the glory of God; the interest of Christ; the salva|tion of souls; and the strength and refreshment of saints. Surely the blessed God put strength in me, that I might plead with him. O methinks God was in this place; and I trust others could say so too. Glory to God.* 1.13

September 26th. Thanks be to God for the assist|ances of this day. Though Satan was busy, yet my God has helped. O for the prosperity of Zion; for the salvation of poor sinners; though while I pray, they curse and swear! O how affecting is it to my soul! While I am in secret, earnestly wrestling with God, for their salvation, my ears are filled with the profane|ness of the street. O how does iniquity run down our streets, like an overflowing flood! And even while I am saying, O Lord, have mercy on sinners, and glorify thyself in their salvation, my ears are filled, my heart is grieved, my soul is vexed, and my flesh trembles, with their horrid imprecations. And while my soul is in an agony for their salvation, I hear them imprecat|ing their own destruction. And while my soul is bow|ing down, with solemn and awful reverence, before the Majesty of heaven, solemnized with his dread; how, O how shocking is it, to hear a company of rebels tak|ing his sacred, venerable, precious name, profanely on their unhallowed lips! Perhaps I seldom retire for prayer, at least in the evening, but I hear the sacred name of Jehovah profaned an hundred times, while I am engaged. Wo is me, that I sojourn in Mesech, and dwell in the tents of Kedar, and my place of re|tirement unavoidably so near a profane, unrestrained street of people. O the patience of a God! And O

the enmity of the carnel mind! Surely God's throne will be forever just, if after so long forbearance, he turn the wicked into an eternal hell. Just, forever just shall be thy executed vengeance on stupid, secure sin|ners; rational, immortal, yet God provoking, God de|spising, heaven daring, damnation requesting transgres|sors. I tremble; yet adore the justice of their sentence!

November 9th. God was better to me, yesterday, than my fears. My chief petitions at the throne of grace, for myself, are for submission to his will; for thankfulness; and a fixed trust in him. I humbly ask every needful supply from him; but that he would give me resignation to his will; and let the Lord do with me, as seemeth him good. I can look on the poorest, meanest circumstances in life, with a humble subjection to God, and acquiescence in his will, infinitely prefer|able to all the affluence, pomp and grandeur of this world, with a temper in contrariety to God, and his sovereign will.

O blessed Jesus, when the poor diseased people follow|ed thee, crying after thee, when thou wast on earth in the flesh, even when thy disciples forbad them, didst thou call for them, and heal them. How many months have I been crying after thee, day and night, that thou wouldest heal this unresigned will? And O wilt thou not hear and heal me? I trust thou wilt, since thou dost enable me to follow thee with persevering impor|tunity, notwithstanding thy seeming denials and de|lays, and the cruel discouragements cast in my way by Satan and unbelief. I hope I have felt my soul cling more sensibly to God, as my covenant God, on some threatening aspects. O well, if this may be the dear effect, all shall be well, infinitely well, that ends in a closer union with God.

O my God, thou hast heard me; thou hast not cast me away in anger. Thou hast heard, thou hast owned me. Thou hast not despised my affliction. Thou wilt assuredly do well by me. Thou wilt serve thyself of me, and glorify thyself in me. Mercy and truth shall yet spring up. God will yet appear to my joy and tri|umph. God will arise. I shall yet see his salvation.

Surely God will fulfil his word and grace to me. Sure|ly he does not hide himself, as to his comfortable pres|ence, and gracious approbation, and in his providence, from me; and yet keep me seeking him, with perhaps the greatest diligence and engagedness of any time in my life, for nought and in vain. Surely, did not the Spirit of God secretly hold me wrestling, I could nev|er thus follow him, when sensible comfort was so sus|pended▪ and under so many and great discouragements. On God will I wait. In God will I trust. He is my rock.

Feb. 7th. 1763. O what torment is this insensibili|ty! Wherefore is it? Is there any thing that I hold dearer than this God, that causes him to hide himself from me? Is there a wretched, base lust in my soul, preferred before this glorious, lovely, best of beings? O tear it out! Lord, if I perish forever; yet let me justify, adore and love thee, above every thing else. But perish, perish did I say! What! banishment from God! That I cannot bear. I am undone, I am ruined, if separated from God. I cannot, I cannot! What! torn from my center; rent from my life! O hell of hells, beyond all conception! Lord, Lord! what should I do! What! immortal, and separate from God! What! and after a display of such love, and such sat|isfying enjoyment of a Being, who is his own infinite happiness! O what! without God! The thought has too many hells in it, for me to bear. I cannot, my God, I cannot bear it. Separate me not from thee. O, rather let me sink into my primitive nothing, than have a being, without such a God as thou art, for my portion and everlasting felicity.

But I cannot be content to be assured of enjoying thee hereafter, and yet live without thee here. No: I am comfortless, helpless and dejected, yea wretched and miserable, in the enjoyment of every thing else, under a sense of absence from thee, even in this life: And am ready to say, Leave me only my being and my God, and I am content. Thou knowest I have triumphed in thee, in the sense of absence from every thing else.

And O now, if there be any secret rival in my heart, tear it out. If I love any thing more than thee, I am unworthy of thee, whether parents, sisters, friends, houses, land, riches, honours or pleasures; yea, food or raiment, or life. Search out the Agag, and let it be hewed to pieces, before the Lord. O let thy Spirit en|ter the most secret recesses of my soul, and divide be|tween the joints and marrow. O help me, help me! For without thee I can do nothing. Help me to accom|plish a diligent search, and to find out the secret abom|ination of my heart. O help me to dig into the wall, and to find out the hidden abominations, which thy soul hateth; and which cause thee to hide thy face. Let there be nothing in my soul, loved or hid, that is offensive to thee, O thou best of Beings, who only art worthy to be loved and served and enjoyed. O pure|ly purge away my dross and my tin, and reveal thyself, and thy love, so as to enkindle mine.

And O cause me to remember this solemn season. If thou shouldest call for every thing I enjoy in life, let me still remember, it is not my being, nor my God; and therefore cannot make me miserable. O let me remember how mean, how nothing, all things, besides these, now appear. O secure but thyself to me, thou allsufficient good, and I must be happy. O what motes, what atoms, what dust and vanity, are all things else! They are no portion for my immortal spirit. I can|not live upon them. One thing, and only one, is ab|solutely needful for me. And that is, God for my portion. Nothing less can suffice my immortal, capa|cious spirit. O for a fuller assurance! O for a nearer access! O for a closer union! More intimate commu|nion: Some sure earnest, or speedy full possession! O why this darkness, this distance, this unsufferable ab|sence and ignorance! O thou, who only knowest thine own infinite worth and excellency, and my ab|solute poverty and necessity, reveal thyself to me, in and through Jesus Christ. O hold me no longer at this in|supportable distance, in this fordid, stupid insensibility!

May 15th. Blessed be God, there is help laid on one who is mighty to save. I cannot be so low, but

Christ is able to raise me. I cannot be so weak, but he is able to strengthen; nor so polluted, but he is able to cleanse; nor so needy, but that he is able to supply all my needs. O most glorious, almighty Redeemer, as ever thou didst undertake the cure of any soul, under|take for me. I have this day heard, that thou art made of God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and re|demption, to thy people: And thus, O thus, I need thee. And O, forever blessed be thy name for the hopes I have in thee. O make me love and prize thee more. O let me enjoy thee, and my soul says, It is enough! Look into my heart, and see the secret groan|ings of my soul after God; and hear the passionate sighs and cries, after conformity to, and communion with, the great first cause and last end of all things; the great source and fountain head of all perfection; the uncreated, surpassing excellency; essential recti|tude; only complete, infinitely complete original of all possible existence and felicity. O does not my soul reach, and stretch, and long after perfect conformity to thee, thou great first and best of beings; thou sweet and only center of my immortal, rational, and (I hope) gra|cious nature; thou only and utmost wish of my soul. O attemper me to thyself; fix me on thyself; satisfy me in thyself; supply me from thyself: And may all I am good laid up in thee.

Sept.—. O, in what a depraved state is fallen man! And what a wretched heart have I! Good God, what a lep|rous soul is this! How polluted, how defiled! What a running sore, that pollutes all I touch! I stain and spoil every thing, I have any concern with. Sin, this worst of leprosy, defiles and ruins holy ordinances and duties. It deprives God's word and ordinances of their efficacy. Yea, it turns precious truths, and wholesome food, into poison, through some secret prejudice, or in|dulged iniquity, some root of bitterness. It takes of|fence at the matter, or manner, or instrument, or sea|son; or occasions carelessness and inattention: It weak|ens faith: It disturbs or destroys love: It corrupts zeal: It abates fervour: It poisons patience and meek|ness:

It stabs humility: It murders holy resolutions: Many, very many of them, die under its hands. It strangles brotherly love, and makes an insurrection in the moral world. It commits outrage, in God's right|ful dominions. And as it weakens every grace, so it pollutes every duty, wherein some or every grace is to be exercised. O how does it pollute prayer; that sa|cred thing, which we never touch, but we defile, and leave the print of our loathsome corruption and pollu|tion upon it! It turns mercies into a curse; and pre|vents the right use and end of afflictions. Thus does sin spoil all it comes near to. And thus do we, as sin|ners, pollute all we have any thing to do with, wheth|er ordinances or providences.

And thus, O my soul, art thou polluting holy things, from day to day. Lord, I blush, I am ashamed: What shall I do? I dare not omit duty; yet may a sacred blushing cover me, whenever I attempt a duty; know|ing that I shall now leave the print of my pollution on this holy thing. And O, hence let Christ be more than ever precious to my soul.

Surely I need just such a Saviour as the Lord Jesus Christ; and with none less could I ever be saved. Not all the wisdom, power and grace of all the angels above, or saints below, if joined in one, could save me. Nothing less than infinite wisdom, power and grace could save me. And sure I am, I shall yet perish, if sovereign, rich and free grace, through a Redeemer, do not prevent. So great, so strong is the power of my pollution, notwithstanding the implantation of God's grace in my heart, I should make shipwreck of faith, and a good conscience, if left to myself. O methinks it is a wonder, a miracle of grace, that from such a heart as mine I have not run into all excess of wretch|edness. O it is owing to infinite power, and prevent|ing grace, that I have not acted as bad as ever one did.

December 18th. At night. Thanks be to God, for some access this evening. I hope I did hunger and thirst after righteousness; and was enabled to apply to the great Redeemer for grace sufficient for me; for wisdom and prudence; for meekness and patience; for

a hearty, cheerful acquiescence in the will of God; for hearty love and good will; for strength against every temp|tation; and to the purposes before mentioned. That God and the Redeemer might be abundantly glorified in and by me, by the indwelling and abundant com|munications of the Holy Spirit. I hope I was enabled to apply to the Fountain, through Jesus, for a full supply for life; and, in particular, for the week ensuing, sensi|ble of my own absolute poverty and necessity.

O my great Redeemer, how many and great are my wants! Lord, I am ruined, if thou dost not appear to supply them. There are so many great and constant demands on me for every grace, arising from present circumstances, temptations, corruptions, duties, diffi|culties and relations, that I seem to have run all out, and, like a broken merchant, to have been making sham, sorry, mean and beggarly shifts, to keep up my credit. But I can shift no longer. A new supply I must have, or my credit is gone. And thine honour is concern|ed: I fall not alone. Lord, I have boasted a fountain at hand; a sufficient supply to answer all demands. I have said, My God shall supply all my needs. But my demands are very many; and the tempter sees my weakness and poverty, and grows insolent, and threat|ens ruin. Lord, art thou not surety for thy handmaid? I trust thou art; and I shall not be cast into the prison of hell.

But I have demands upon me, as thy servant, Lord; and my expenses are very great. Thou wouldest have me live up to my station and dignity; and this is vast|ly expensive to grace, in this evil world. Thou must maintain thy servants out of thy own inexhaustible treasury. Lord, I have nothing to live upon of my own; and, turn which way I will, there is a demand upon me for wisdom, for patience, for meekness, for faith, for love, for humility, or for some grace or oth|er. O my glorious Head, I pray thee communicate a supply. What shall I do if thou dost not? Duties and temptations both have such demands, as nothing of my own will answer. O my blessed Master, bountifully supply my wants, and I will be for thee, and no other,

all the days of my life. And, speedily, Lord; for thou knowest the demands of every duty and temptation are positive and pressing, and must be answered from thee.

Feb. 5th. 1764. Broken off last night from prayer, by a very sick turn: Had an ill night. A confused stupid morning. Could do nothing in any exercise of religion; and the weather forbade my going out. But could bear it no longer, thus to waste holy time. The weather permitting, I went out this afternoon, and sat before the Lord, as his people sit. But, alas! I was as a beast before him. I was ready to say, Why are such pearls cast before such a swinish temper as mine? "Wherefore is there a price put into the hand of a fool, seeing he has no heart for it?"

O, to believe I have powers and faculties, capable of the highest and most noble contemplations and en|joyments; and to believe there is a most glorious Be|ing, infinitely more than adequate to the utmost desires and wishes of my powers and faculties; a Being, to whom I am under every possible bond and obligation, to contemplate, love, serve and adore him; and a Be|ing, in the love and service of whom, is my highest and only interest and felicity: And yet, to be thus insensi|ble and inactive, is most extreme pain! O, God, what is hell, but a privation of light and communication from thee the fountain of all being and blessedness! O, to be called upon to behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world, and believe my whole salvation to be there; and to have no sensible concep|tions, nor apprehensions thereof, surely is more than brutal. "The ox knows his owner, and the ass his master's crib."

But O, glory to God! I have found him accessible this night, in secret prayer. I found him able to en|large the most narrow, contracted soul. Nothing but almighty power could effect so great, so mighty a work. Now let my light break out of obscurity, and my dark|ness be like the noon day. O what are all the enjoy|ments of this empty world, to one moment's commu|nion with this first and best of beings; the source, foun|tain and center of all perfection; the original and only

felicity of a rational mind; the only durable and last|ing good of an immortal soul; the life of my soul, and length of my days; the author of my being, and strength of my heart; the only suitable portion of my soul for|ever! I shall outlive all these sublunary, earthly de|lights: And what but this best of beings shall then be a suitable, permanent happiness for my immortal spirit?

March 27th. Blessed be God for some rational con|ception, and spiritual conviction, that religion is a most reasonable service; conformity to God, the sum and substance of all religion; the beauty, harmony and im|portance of being intentionally and designedly devoted to God, as the chief and proper good, and his glory, as the best and last end; the comfort and happiness of enjoying the same mind that was in Christ, whose meat and drink was to do the will of God; the unspeakable pleasure and privilege of always doing the things that please God: Ardent desires after this, as the only suit|able, substantial and necessary good.

Most great and glorious God, wean me from every thing beside and below thy ever blessed self. Thou on|ly Fountain of complete happiness, direct all my ways; guide all my desires; sanctify, regulate and enliven all my powers; and may they all act for God. Cure me more and more of every selfish, sinister, carnal, and worldly disposition. O purify and purge all my in|tentional aims and designs, and use me for thyself. I am thy own: Made by and for thee; redeemed, up|held, and preserved, for and to the same end, and vol|untarily devoted. Fain would I be fixed in my post. I not only esteem my service thy due, and thy salvation my happiness; but I esteem thy service my happiness, my privilege, my pleasure and greatest honour.

O my God, I beseech thee, by all thy gracious char|acter; by all thy endearing compassion; by all thy unbounded goodness; and by all thy infinite conde|scension to man; by all thy grace to me; by all the love of redemption; by all thy covenant faithfulness, shown to thy unworthy worm; that thou wilt conform me more and more to thyself; that I may come as near to my glorious Redeemer, and great pattern, as is con|sistent

with this slate of imperfection. O when shall every moment be filled with duty; and every duty with purity, spirituality, love, zeal and devotion! Why, seeing I am the daughter of a king, should I be lean from day to day? Why should I appear as one of dis|honourable birth and parentage? True, my original was mean and base. My nature sin. My father an Amorite, and my mother an Hittite, an accursed flock! But by thy adoption, I am become honourable in thy sight; and thou hast said of me, "The king's daugh|ter is all glorious within; her clothing is of wrought gold." O make me then to shine in all thy beauty, my Lord and my God!

April 29th. Glory to God in the highest, that there is peace on earth, and good will to man! All glory to the Redeemer, that he is taking to himself his great pow|er, and triumphing gloriously, in some parts of our land. O our Immanuel, come, and make thine abode with us. Ten thousand praises to Jesus, the King of the Jews, that any one of them is bowed to thy scepter. O glorious Conqueror, go on to conquer, till with Is|rael, the fulness of the Gentiles are brought in. O my dear omnipotent Redeemer, how shall thy infinite strength be magnified, if Jewish prejudices, obstinacy▪ blindness and infidelity be broken down, before thee▪ O, at this my hope takes wing, and mounts on high, borne aloft by a thousand precious promises of the lat|ter day glory, and the great Conqueror's triumph! Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly, and fulfil the glorious things that are spoken concerning the city of our God. O come, and show thy almighty power in subduing Jew|ish prejudices against thee, which have been contract|ing and strengthening, for more than seventeen hun|dred years. O now make bare thine arm, and reveal thy power, thou already come Messiah: And let them no longer look for another.

Oct. 21st. O my soul, aro••••••, shake off thy sloth. He quickened thee, who was dead in trespasses and sins. Was this thy awful, wretched 〈◊〉〈◊〉! And am I now made alive? O let me live to him and him alone, who gave me life. I see a life of religion; a life of entire

devotedness and conformity to God, that best of beings, the first cause and last end, the most rational thing in nature. I see sin, which is a transgression of, or want of conformity to, the law of God, that trans|cript of the divine nature, and everlasting rule of right|eousness, the most irrational, absurd thing in the world.

O for a deep abasure, suitable to the dignity and grandeur of that majesty, I attempt to bow before! O for a divine rectitude, trust and confidence, purity, in|tegrity, uprightness, and enagedness of spirit, propor|tionable to the perfections of him, whom I worship! O for ardent, vehement love, like his, whom I admire and adore, which overflows all its banks! When, O when, shall I be a true worshipper! true to the inter|est, character and dignity of my Lord; true to my own interest, character and estate; so suitably, spiritually and truly impressed with both, that I may set God in his place, and lie in mine, before him. O how far short have I ever come of being a completely true worship|per! Lord, it is only thou who canst make me so. Help, O Lord, help! To thee I fly.

April 26th, 1766. I am more and more confrmed in this most certain truth, That an unholy creature, is nec|essarily an unhappy creature. God be merciful to me a sinner. A sinner found among apostates. A rebel by nature. "All my original is shame, and all my na|ture sin." Continually going counter to God's holy law and nature. O my great, my absolute need of the great, the almighty Redeemer, to sanctify me by his Spirit and grace, as well as justify me, by his atone|ment and merits. Here is all my hope, my refuge; this sure foundation, laid in Zion.

Glory to God for that most sweet and gracious sea|••••••, I last night enjoyed. I bowed before the Lord, with fear and trembling. I felt myself to be a polluted, guilty sinner. The terror of suspected thunder took hold of me; while, I trust, a childlike desire and long|ing for his dear, delightful favour, engaged me. O how did I long for his manifested love to my soul! I cried, My Father, my Father, the maker of my frame,

and the Father of my spirit, do not, O do not forsake me! O banish me not from thy favour!

" I cannot live without thy light, Cast out and banish'd from thy sight."

O how could I bear to be separated, and under the frowns of God! Whose heart could endure, or hands be strong, in that day? Sure mine could not.

And O how intensely, ardently and vehemently, did I long and wrestle for conformity to this amiable and best of beings! And how sensible of my great want of holiness! God be merciful to me a sinner, was my pray|er; and my soul was in the prayer. God be merciful to me a sinner, contained, at once, my misery, and my help. That I was a sinner▪ I felt, to my inmost soul. And that was my unspeakable misery; and therefore my absolute need of mercy, even the mercy of God, which is infinite pardoning mercy, and sanctifying mercy. And, indeed, the sense of my misery, as a pol|luted, unholy sinner, got the ascendant; and so my de|sires after holiness engaged my whole soul, and swal|lowed up my fears of thunder, or dread of other evils. Sure the Spirit of God did excite these desires in my soul. And I laid me down, and slept; for the Lord sustained me, and held me sleeping, while it thundered, and lightened, and rained; and I heard it not. O how gracious is God to me!

October—. Wo is me, that I am a sinner, the chief of sinners! O the amazing power of iniquity in this wretched heart, that is too mighty for every thing, but omnipotency! It is hell in kind; and will be hell in degree, if almighty, sovereign grace do not pre|vent. Lord God Almighty, is any thing too hard for thee? This sin in my nature is too hard for every power, but thine. All the angels in heaven, and men on earth, united with me, cannot 〈◊〉〈◊〉 it. It is like Leviathan, without fear. It is the same that makes devils: And it is of thy mercy, that it has not completed me a raging, roaring devil. Hadst thou assigned my rank among their order. I need no more than these lusts, this unsanctified, polluted, de|praved nature, unrestrained, to complete the character.

And if ever I escape their punishment, it will be solely of the pure mercy of God, through a Redeemer; and not from any natural worth in me: Yea, and sovereign mercy, of him who has mercy on whom he will have mercy. O my God, appear for me!

May 21st, 1769. It is long since I wrote any thing. Disorders of body, dejection of spirits, aversion from my pen, and temptation, from within and without, are my exercises. But why, my soul, sunk down so low? It is upon the immutability of God's covenant I have rest|ed. And here alone I must rest. And here, through grace, I will rest, when Satan and unbelief bid me die. It is unchangeable; it is everlasting. This has been my strength, and my confidence. And here again I rest. What this has and does give me, I shall surely have; and more I have no warrant to expect. It is well ordered in all things, and sure. It contains all my salvation: Let it be all my desire, and all my de|light. Here, as on an eternal basis, my soul has rested. It has life, and death, and eternity in it. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Fit me and take me.

June 25th. Soon after I wrote last, my bodily dis|orders increased, so as to lay me by: But a sweet calm, resting on covenant fulness and faithfulness, abode with me, so as to render it rather a dear refuge and release, a recovery of spiritual strength, than a smarting rod. The word preached by Mr. Hart, and Mr. Austin, has also concurred to strengthen faith.

Bodily disorders abated; but for a few days past have returned, with inward exercises. But, blessed be God, enabled this afternoon to visit his sanctuary, and hear of his great salvation. O my base, my fordid, stupid insensibility of this great salvation! Yet, surely, surely I have an interest therein. It has been all my desire, all my delight, and all my joy. It has been, it is, and shall be all my pursuit. My God, my all, I am fixed, I am determined in the choice of this salvation; and thou hast sealed it to my soul; hast given me the strong|est and fullest assurance of it. My whole heart and soul have been wrapped up in it. All my powers have embraced it, and joyfully submitted to it, and acqui|esced

in it, as most worthy of God; safe and happify|ing to man. And God, the unchangeable, everlasting God, has graciously condescended to assure me repeat|edly, beyond the power of a doubt or fear, that he would perform in and upon me all that it contains.

And now, O now, and henceforward, while I live, let me glorify this God, by a steady, confident reliance on his goodness and grace. Is the Lord a man, that he should lie; or the son of man, that he should repent? Hath he not said? And will he not perform it? Why has he condescended to give thee such repeated, strong assurance; but that thou shouldst glorify him, by a steady reliance on him? Grant me this grace, also, O my God. It is a covenant blessing. It is a part of that great salvation; a deliverance from the power of un|belief. Faith is thy gift.

N. B. THE Extracts from Miss Anthony's Diary, contained in the preceding long section, are but a small part of her writings, the whole of which take up above a thousand pages.

The editor has endeavoured to select what is instruc|tive and edifying. Much more might have been tran|scribed, which, perhaps, would be as entertaining and beneficial to serious christians, as that which is here copied, and presented to them. But this could not be done, without rendering the publication voluminous.

SECTION IV.

Extracts from some of the Letters, which she wrote to her Friends.

Extract of a letter, which she wrote, when in the coun|try for her health, to her intimate female friend, in Newport.

Stonington,August 26th, 1769.

MY DEAR, DEAR FRIEND,

I REJOICE that you and others have again seen the goings and glory of God, in his house; the sweetest and most desirable sight on earth. If I know my heart, there is nothing, this side heaven, I should esteem equal to it. O my friend, to behold the divine glory, feel its influence on our souls, see its effects on ourselves and others, transforming into the divine im|age, gives a pleasure that infinitely outweighs all that earth can boast, or finite beings enjoy, beside. When shall the great Jehovah show himself to be the dear Im|manuel, by the most powerful communication of his Spirit and grace, with his word and ordinances! This should put joy into our poor hearts, more than all the enjoyments of 〈◊〉〈◊〉. This should soon cause us to take down our harps from the drooping willows, and tune them to the highest praise. This, I am persuaded, would make this inhospitable wilderness, this wild de|sert, blossom, and appear as the garden of Eden. Even this presence of our God would make a paradise: And to live, which now appears only a living death, would be Christ. Yea, methinks the prospect of this 〈◊〉〈◊〉 reconcile me to life, and make all its burdens easy and sweet. What could be too grievous to bear, or too dear to part with, to see our God thus glorified, the dear Redeemer's kingdom come with power, per|ishing sinners plucked as brands out of the burning, and the ransomed of the Lord returning to Zion with songs and everlasting joy.

Well, blessed be God, every promise and purpose, concerning Zion, and our Zion in particular, shall have its full accomplishment: For we have to do with a God, who is infinitely wise in purposing, wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working. And hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good? O for faith and prayer! to believe what he hath promised; and to give him no rest, till Zion become a praise in all the earth.

May this be abundantly experienced on the solemn day approaching, the next Thursday, the last day of this month: A day set apart by the general Association of Ministers in this colony, under a sense of the great declension of religion; that God would return, and visit the land with divine influences; that religion, in its power and purity, may be revived. Had it not been for this appointment, I believe I should have returned before now. But this has seemed to set my bounds, ever since I came here (unless Providence should order otherways for me) having a desire to be present and unite on this solemn, most important occasion. Join us, my dear Newport friends, in this all interesting af|fair; and, on this day, which will be your stated half day, as early as you can, in the afternoon; that you may meet, perhaps hundreds, of God's dear ministers and children, at the same throne of grace, for one and the same blessing. O may we then feel the unity of the Spirit; bear each others burdens, and be all united for the whole. Being cemented by the divine Spirit, may we surround the throne of grace; be gathered at the footstool of Jehovah; and present before the mer|cy seat, with our divine Redeemer and Intercessor at our head, and the arm of faith fast about him, refusing to let him go; let us lift up holy hands, without wrath or doubting; feel, and tell our God, we are all as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 men before him, if he help us not; tell him our 〈◊〉〈◊〉 our nation, our world is burnt up with excessive drought, for want of the dews of heaven, divine influences. Let us put in our plea, in the name of our worthy Advocate, and see if God will not glorify his Son, in granting our request for his sake.

Surely it is time for us to be awaked and alarmed. Where are we sinking? What will be the consequence of this dreadful stupefaction? The symptoms of death are upon us, or we never could live at so low a rate. Were it my case alone, or only of a few individuals, the glory of God, and the kingdom and interest of the ev|er worthy Lamb of God, and the wonderful work of redeeming love, might yet flourish and be magnified: But when it is as an overflowing deluge, a wide break|ing in of many waters, who that has any exercise of true love to God, can be careless and easy in such a time of declension?

If I prefer not the prosperity of Jerusalem to my chief joy, I know nothing. Well, let us pray for the peace and prosperity thereof, and be encouraged, not|withstanding present appearances: For the Lord hath chosen Zion; he hath desired it for his habitation. This is his rest. Here will he dwell. He will abun|dantly bless her provision, and satisfy her poor with bread. Faith says, It is enough: The mouth of the Lord hath spoken it. I will pray and wait in hope; and blessed be she that believed; for there shall be a performance of those things which were told her from the Lord (in his word.) And surely we may stretch our desires abroad, even to the utmost bounds of the everlasting hills; for there are glorious things spoken concerning the city of our God.

The following is another letter, written to the same person.

MY VERY DEAR, DEAR—

YOUR griefs and distresses greatly affect me. ••••••give me, my dear soul, that I am so deficient in my attempts to assist and comfort you. I reproach myself for this, while yet I know God only can comfort you: And I am, in my poor manner, looking to him to do it.

You say, you doubt whether you know the true God, and in heart choose him. If not, why do you thirst, long, and pant for, and place all your happiness

in that very sovereign, holy, righteous, good and glori|ous God, who is revealed in his word, and by his works? You next doubt whether your anxiety about this does not prove you selfish? If your anxiety about this mat|ter arises wholly from a desire of securing your own happiness, and preventing your own private, personal misery, it is doubtless selfish. If you see nothing wor|thy, lovely and excellent in God's true character; and therefore desire the knowledge of it, only to secure eternal life to you, it is wrong. But, if you place eter|nal life or happiness in the knowledge of the only true God, as he is the sum of all perfection, and infinite ex|cellence, in and of himself; then you will desire this knowledge for its own sake; and will doubtless desire to know, that you do know that which you esteem in|finitely worthy, excellent and glorious; and will be far from being satisfied with just a degree of that knowl|edge, as you suppose may secure your title to heaven.

Suppose, my dear, I have a certain sum offered me, upon condition I become reconciled to, and ac|quainted with a worthy person. I have no esteem or love for the person; but for the sake of the interest, I will try for a reconciliation and acquaintance; and may be very inquisitive to know, if I have complied with the terms: That is, whether I am indeed entitled to the reward; which is all I care for. But when I become truly acquainted with the person, I see so much real worth and excellency in him, that my heart is most sensibly attracted to him; and I find this knowledge is happiness. I pursue a farther acquaintance. I hear him described, and believe he is what he is described to be: And I hear, and believe it to be complete hap|piness to know and enjoy such a friend. So I hear and believe that this knowledge is connected with some great and good effects, in whomsoever it takes place. But I find so little of these effects in myself (through my own blindness and stupidity) and in a sense of the importance of the matter, that I grow anxious to know whether I have indeed any true knowledge; and so am in the way of a growing acquaintance, rather from the excellency and importance of this knowledge, than

from the fear of losing the sum: This, as a private, per|sonal interest, hardly comes into view; is overlooked, in comparison with the happiness, which is attained by the exhibition and display of true worth and excel|lence, and tends to exalt it.

It is supposed there is the same natural desire of happiness in both cases: But, then, the one has no re|gard to any other being but himself. The other goes out of himself, and places his happiness in that which is the good of being in general. And here, my dear friend, I think, it is easy to see how a desire to know, that we do know, and are really in heart acquainted with God's true character, may spring from a benevo|lent disposition of heart, a regard to him, as the sum of all being and perfection; and so not a mere selfish de|sire. I think it is certain we may desire to know this, as we are directed to glory in it, Jer. ix. Let him that glorieth, glory in this, that he understandeth and know|eth me, that I am the Lord, who exercise loving kind|ness, judgment, and righteousness in the earth: For in these things I delight, saith the Lord.

The following letter was written to a friend who then lived in the country, who was greatly attentive to her spiritual concerns, under a strong and abiding convic|tion of the depravity and hardness of her heart, and viewing herself to be in an unconverted state.

Newport,Oct. 27, 1770.

MY DEAR, KIND FRIEND,

I THANK you for your very kind and acceptable favour of the 11th inst. Only you draw a character that does by no means belong to me. And, however mor|tifying it is to me; yet I must assure you, did my real character come into your view, you would be so far from loving and admiring, that you must yourself be very bad, not to detest and abhor it. But so infinite wisdom has seen best to order it, that I should not be

cast out and abhorred by all living, while I ought to loath myself for all my abominations, and great defi|ciencies; for which I have no possible excuse; but in|deed am infinitely guilty for my criminal abuse of the long and rich advantages with which I have been fa|voured. I was early planted in the house of my good God, that I might be fat and flourishing: But, alas! my leanness, my leanness! Were it not for the rich, free and sovereign grace of the gospel, which affords hope and relief for the most wretched and guilty, I must now lie down in absolute despair. Here is my only hope and refuge.

And here is a hope and refuge set before my dear friend, let her guilt be ever so great, or her abused ad|vantages ever so many, if she will but accept the offer|ed salvation, the only remedy that infinite wisdom and sovereign grace has provided. And what objection can she possibly have to a way and a remedy so infinitely well calculated to secure the divine honour, and con|fer the richest and infinitely the best of blessings on guilty sinners: A way which opens the most grand and noble prospects of richest treasures, highest happi|ness, and most satisfying enjoyments for one complete eternity: And opens these prospects even to the most poor, wretched, miserable, captivated, enslaved, sunken, destitute creatures, by a union to the great and glorious Son of God, the beloved of the Father, and he in whom he is forever well pleased.

O how inconceivably aggravated must the rejec|tion of the grace of the gospel one day appear! May my dear, dear friend, so feel the weight of it now, as to fly from the wrath to come. May she be so reconcil|ed to God's true character, and the character of the di|vine Redeemer, as to render him the chief of ten thou|sands, and altogether lovely in her view; while she be|holds him magnifying the divine law, and making it honourable; vindicating the authority of God, and supporting the eternal throne of Deity.

I am more and more confirmed, that there can be no true religion, or real happiness, any farther than the heart is really reconciled to the whole of the divine

character. While there is a total alienation from the fountain and only source of perfection and happiness, there must be nothing but sin and misery. And while there is the least degree of this alienation and opposi|tion it must be a constant source of pollution and unhap|piness, which will, in a degree, taint and interrupt all our duties and enjoyments; though, blessed be God, there is a foundation laid in regeneration, by slaying the op|position and enmity of our hearts, for the highest per|fection and enjoyment; and as far as we are reconciled and united to God, we enter into the beginning of a state of the most perfect holiness and consummate hap|piness, that our natures are capable of, when enlarged in the fountain of existence, to take in inconceivable communications from Deity, opening on vessels pre|pared for glory.

But O, where am I going! Why do I attempt what eye hath not seen, or ear heard; nor has my nar|row, contracted heart, in any adequate degree, any con|ception of! May your superiour powers, by the effec|tual operation of the Holy Spirit, be formed for, and enlarged in the divine, delightful, transforming con|templation, till you arrive to the most grand and noble height of holiness and happiness!

I am,

with much affection, Your much obliged friend, SUSA. ANTHONY.

The following extracts are from letters which she wrote to a minister.

Newport,July 15, 1770.

REVEREND SIR,

—I KNOW not what I shall be or do. I fear I am sinking into great stupidity; yea, that I am far|ther gone, than I was aware. I have indeed had relief from distressing conflicts; but I have misused and abus|ed the mercy; and am even ready to covet them again:

Any thing rather than a sottish stupidity and careless|ness. Conflicts often stir up the polluted fountain, and cause me to loath and abhor my self for all my abomin|ations. But I fear my heart has since grown like a standing sink, which is not purged, but its scum re|mains. Some general abiding conviction I indeed have of great deficiency; especially in attending to Mr. Ed|wards on the nature of true virtue. When I come to separate or take away that sensation of secondary beau|ty, &c. natural conscience, and particular instincts in nature, alas, what have I left! So little, if any thing, that it scarce deserves the name, and appears less than the least of all seeds. Surely I and others have been greatly mistaken in me. Yet, even under this convic|tion, I find there is great want of a through, humbling sense of positive pollution, and universal depravity. My views are partial. My wretched, treacherous heart starts aside, and shifts off from full conviction.

But will it not look unfriendly to attempt to lead you any farther into this horrid depth of my depraved, polluted heart, where you will find no bottom, or any way out? I will cease, and let it be for my own hu|miliation to dig into it, and search out its greater and greater abominations.

December 18th, 1770.

REV. AND DEAR SIR,

I THANK you for your kind, obliging letter. It has been inexpressibly affecting and welcome to your poor, vile, worthless friend. For though I know I am utterly undeserving, yet I cannot help desiring the af|fection of my christian friends, even while I feel my|self altogether unfit for any free conversation with them; and am ready to withdraw from them as a pol|luted, infectious leper. The strength, number, aggra|vation and infection of my sins, has been as an over|flowing deluge. And I see myself unfit to have any thing to do with any but a Being of infinite patience

and absolute purity, who can bear with me, and cannot possibly be polluted or tainted by my impurity, even in my nearest approaches to him. This is my com|fort.

O if it were not for the thought, that the infinitely wise and glorious Jehovah can bring good out of all this evil, and glory to himself from my dreadful wick|edness, I should sink and die under it. For the thought of even my eternal interest being secure, seems to give me no relief. This is not the balsam that touches my wound. Here were opened some sources of comfort to me on the last Sabbath. And here, and here only, could I see myself of any importance, as the vilest wretch who ever lived is of importance to answer the great end of exalting and magnifying the exceeding greatness and riches of God's power and grace. O what superabounding grace must it eternally appear to be, to forgive such a guilty wretch as I am! to cleanse and sanctify such an amazingly polluted heart as mine is! and triumph over all the infinite obstacles which lie in the way of my salvation! In this view, and in this only, at present, my salvation appears of any worth and importance: For I know I deserve the most dread|ful and aggravated destruction: Am nothing, and less than nothing, and of no importance, any further than God is glorified in me. But here I can only rejoice, that he will glorify himself in me; and not in the view that I in any respect glorify him.

O, sir, to see a soul so loaded with obligations; so bound by the strongest bonds; so urged by the most powerful motives and arguments, stupid, sottish and in|sensible; yea, obstinate and opposing, is most astonish|ing! Yet not powerful enough suitably to rouse me from stupidity, or subdue the enmity of my carnal mind. These convictions force themselves upon me by the powerful pressure of undeniable facts and evi|dences: But were they the genuine fruits of true self abhorrence and abasement, they would produce a bet|ter temper of soul, and would influence me to better obedience, and entire devotedness to God and his glo|ry in my whole conduct.

It is often a question that occurs, Whether such a dreadful heart as mine is can possibly be the new heart given in regeneration? But I suspect the inclination I sometimes feel to answer in the negative, arises from an unwillingness to admit the conviction of such aggra|vated guilt and vileness as bears in upon me, from the affirmative.

But I will cease to lead your thoughts into a scene so dark and dreadful: And will yet rejoice, that I am in the hands of such an infinitely wise, glorious, and most worthy Being, who will secure his own glory, whatever becomes of me: And all the advantages and obligations he has laid me under shall forever justify his righteous procedures with me. If he say, he has no pleasure in me, he shall be glorious in his justice and righteousness; let him do to me, as seemeth good to him. I say, Let God be glorified, and it is enough. But then, if I am sincere, Why do I not glorify him? Why am I not some way active in this? But here I cease.—

June 15th, 1772.

I NOW take my pen in hand to tell my dear friend, that I feel an inexpressible happiness, that "Dominion is with HIM."* 1.14 I have had a joy in this, this day, that has swallowed up every discouragement and grief. O what can I say, but expatiate on this most glorious truth! With Him, who is so infinitely excellent, ami|able, worthy, wise and good, is DOMINION. The Lord reigns. Surely all heaven and earth may well rejoice, and rejoice forevermore. My soul says, It is enough! Happiness enough, not only for one immortal soul; but for my riads of enlarged, capacious spirits; yea, the happiness of Jehovah himself. O shall this base, this guilty worm ever seek happiness aside from this! Now, let my thoughts roll where they will, they can center with inexpressible delight, That dominion is with him.

I love to dwell on these words; for I can express noth|ing equal to them. I want to have strength of body (or absence from it) and enlargement of capacity, with|out opposition of heart, to take in the full import of them.—

I have for the most part of late been either awful|ly and amazingly stupid, and had little or no sense of any thing, or such a view of my infinite guilt and vile|ness, the aggravation, strength and violence of my sin, as has filled me with the utmost confusion and astonish|ment. And while digging into the walls of greater and greater abominations, which have come up to view, I have been led to conclude, This, my own wickedness, ought to engross all my attention. But this has some|how betrayed me into an error; and I have not found that engagedness and enlargement for others, and my views of sovereign grace have been accordingly nar|row and contracted, till, the latter part of last week, reading in the xxxvith chapter of Ezekiel, what God had promised to do for the most wretched and guilty, and this for his own glory, gave me some strength and cour|age, and enlarged my desires. And now I see I may rejoice and triumph, and stretch my desires to unmeas|urable, boundless grace, displayed in the highest de|gree to a guilty, ruined race, since DOMINION IS WITH HIM.

July 1st, 1772.

DEAR SIR,

I JUST now came into my chamber to throw my feeble frame on the bed. But my thoughts have tak|en a turn to recreate myself by a moment's converse with you.

I have been very feeble and broken this week; but supported, and, as it were, laid at rest on the bosom of divine compassion and faithfulness. O how ten|derly does God deal with such an ungrateful wretch, and permits me to bring all my burdens, infirmities

and cares, and cast them on him! If I am indeed de|voted to his glory, and prefer his service above every other employ, ought I not to feel most happy in his hands, and under his direction, who best knows in what way, and by what means, this shall be brought about?

I hoped this week to have waked up to greater en|gagedness in my solemn approaches to God; but how I shall be carried through the various important duties of it I know not: Yet I find a pleasure in feeling all weakness, and as such dropping into the arms of Omnipotence clothed with every possible perfection▪ and so be disposed of in the wisest and best manner, to answer the most noble and important ends, by him with whom there is not any thing too hard. I do feel, at present, as if I had no other cause or interest, but to be used and disposed of for God; and therefore do rejoice that he is what he is, and that "Dominion is with him." O, sir, I am sure such an immense Spirit, such an ami|able, glorious Being, who was last Sabbath held up to view, is infinitely worthy of the eternal joy and tri|umph of all his creatures.

August 30th.

DEAR SIR,

A POOR, mean, sinful soul aspires and stretches after more exalted conceptions of the divine Redeem|er, and his glorious kingdom. But O! my concep|tions of these are so low; I am so brutish in my knowl|edge, that I cannot but wish the prison walls were pull|ed down. I feel myself the smallest atom in creation, and this loaded with an infinite weight of guilt and odiousness, drawing down to an eternal hell. How must that grace, that wisdom, that mercy be built up forever, which redeems and fixes in his eternal king|dom such an one! And perhaps I must live to try the power, the wisdom and allsufficiency, of this incompa|rable, divine Redeemer. This I have done, and feel I am doing every moment. And O what pleasure does it

give to think how transcendently glorious this "tried stone" will appear, when all the myriads of the redeem|ed, in all the peculiar circumstances in which his suf|ficiency has been tried, shall be exhibited!

My attention has been a little called up to the in|extricable darkness, difficulties and dangers, which lie continually in our way, through which no wisdom but that which is infinite can guide us, nor power short of omnipotent can deliver. When I am a little awake, I see every day, every moment big with such infinite importance to the church of God, and every individu|al member, as at once bankrupts and ruins every suf|ficiency and helper, but our exalted, allsufficient Re|deemer, pronounces them physicians of no value, brok|en cisterns, and places the government only on his shoulders, and constrains to fly to the shadow of his wings for protection. And O how sweet is that rest wherewith he causes the weary to rest!

April 21, 1774.

REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,

GOD has of late been calling up my attention to solemn and tender scenes. I have felt the ties of na|ture, and I hope the tender bonds of christian affection, to one of the best of mothers, a member of Christ, in pain and distress, under great infirmities, to a very sen|sible degree: Under which the infinitely condescend|ing Jehovah has set himself before me, as so infinitely fit to govern, and worthy to be submitted to, yea, re|joiced in, in every dispensation, that I have been con|strained to say, Surely there needs no more to make all heaven and earth rejoice, than to know that this God reigns. O where can there be any true pleasure, but in a heart wholly disposed to close in with every exhi|bition that Jehovah makes of himself, as well in the judgments of his hands, as the laws of his mouth? O what a fountain of inexpressible pleasure overflows and sweetens the bitterest waters of Marah, in that single sentence, It is the Lord, THE LORD!

But, here I pause—while tears of admiration and joy are my highest expression! Fain would I lisp his praises! Fain would I speak of his glories! But O! I find I do not feel what I ought; nor can I ex|press what I feel. When shall my soul be unfettered! When shall the heart of the rash understand! When shall the stammerer speak plain! O when shall my whole soul unite in the most perfect manner, strongest degree and universal extent, to every exhibition of the unbounded, infinite, glorious rectitude and perfection of Jehovah's nature and government! But, instead of this, is it possible that I shall again take back what I have said? God has of late made me repeatedly con|fess that he doth all things well, and, as it were, crowd all things into his hands, professing my hearty subjec|tion to him, and his government. I have been calling him Lord and King; owning his infinite right and fit|ness to govern; recounting his mighty deeds; pro|claiming his sovereign authority; exclaiming against every degree of opposition to him, and his govern|ment; judging and condemning to utter destruction all his implacable enemies. And O, now, how infi|nitely aggravated must my guilt be, if, on trial, I do in the least degree retract, or take back what I have said! But such an heart I know I have in me: And, there|fore, if after all I should perish, out of my own mouth I am condemned: And if saved, sovereign grace shall have all the glory. O how infinitely wise and good this constitution! How rich, how free the grace that comes to sinners through Jesus Christ!

Jan. 29, 1776.

—

GREAT is the wisdom of our divine Leader. He knows what he is about, what he designs to bring to pass by the peculiar exercises which he enables his peo|ple to put forth; and brings them into those circum|stances that are best suited to excite them. Thus does he carry on his glorious designs. Thus is he prepar|ing

us for the event. O how sweet to feel ourselves, and all creatures and things, in his wise and powerful hands, devoted to his good pleasure, led on to the most glorious and important end. In this view I am saying, Let the Lord do with me as seemeth him good; yea, with all things and creatures. His glory is secured; Zion is safe: And more, it shall be raised to the high|est perfection. And though we know not what shall prosper under our hands; yet, being in his hand, we may not say, "There is nothing that can be done." Surely God has done and is doing great things. O that his dear people were all awake! Methinks there is nothing wanting but this to bring forth a most glo|rious victory over the powers of darkness. Then should one chase a thousand, and put ten thousand to flight.

SECTION V.

Containing Observations on the foregoing Life and Writings.

I. THESE, taken together, afford a strong and strik|ing evidence of the truth and excellence of Christianity.

If Christianity, and the Bible in which it is revealed and instituted, were not a divine revelation from heav|en, but a mere fable and falsehood, it would be impossi|ble that such an effect should be produced by it, as was in Miss Anthony; or that such a character should be formed, and such views and exercises excited by it. Nothing but that invisible, divine power, even the Spir|it of God, which the Bible represents as necessary to form men to a truly christian character, could produce this effect, by which she was brought to a temper and practice, so agreeable to the dictates of the scriptures, and so opposite to that which was natural to her, and to all mankind. By this her selfishness, pride, and a vain worldly spirit were subdued, and she was formed to benevolence and humility; was weaned from this

world, and all the objects of time and sense, pronounc|ing them mere trifles and vanity; her affection was strongly fixed on invisible, spiritual objects; choosing the God revealed in the Bible as her only portion; sensibly feeling, that in the knowledge and enjoyment of him, there is complete and endless happiness.

Here we have a witness to all this. Of one who ap|pears sensible and rational, and as capable of judging as any one, after long study and experience▪ having passed through many trials and temptations, making the most deliberate choice and resolutions to look for hap|piness in nothing but the service and enjoyment of Christ; and cheerfully resting her eternal interest on this foundation. It is acknowledged she is not the on|ly witness. There have been thousands who, living and dying, have borne the same testimony. And many such witnesses are now living. But this excellent per|son is an eminent one, who is to be added to the rest, and is an incontestible evidence, considered by itself, that Christianity is from heaven.

And it will serve to strengthen and establish the faith of real christians to find one experiencing, expressing and acting out, in a higher and more eminent degree, those christian graces and exercises, which they have experienced in a lower measure.

And when they who are not christians, observe the union and agreement of christians, in their ideas and feel|ings, though they are more conspicuous and eminent in some than in others: And that persons of different ages and countries, agree in the same kind of christian exer|cises and experimental religion; they have matter of conviction set before them that Christianity has a divine original; and opportunity to learn in what it does most essentially consist.

WE have, also, in this instance, a fresh and striking evidence of the excellence, worth and importance of Christianity.

How does it enlarge and ennoble the mind of man, and raise it to the most affecting and astonishing views of those infinitely grand and glorious objects and truths,

which are exhibited in the work of Redemption▪ Even the only true God displayed in all the uncreated beau|ty and glory of his infinite perfections, in this greatest and most wonderful work; suited to excite the strong|est, everlasting exercises of love, and wonder, of be|nevolence, delight and gratitude; by which the soul is transformed into a real likeness to the divine moral character; is united to the Saviour, and brought into the real enjoyment of God, which gives ineffable satis|faction and delight: Opens to view the invisible world; and introduces a boundless, most agreeable and animat|ing prospect of unspeakable, endless felicity, in the eter|nal kingdom of God, in the enjoyment of infinite, un|changeable objects, and in the highest and most noble exercises, of which a rational, immortal mind is capa|ble, without cessation or weariness, but with increasing strength, vigour and enjoyment: At the same time be|ing in the midst of an innumerable company of most happy and perfectly excellent fellow saints, enjoying all of them, they all partaking of, and increasing the felicity of each other, in the mutual exercise of benev|olence and ecstatic delight.

And in these views, exercises and enjoyments, the christian is formed into a most amiable and excellent character, it being necessarily implied in them. Such a mind is clothed with humility, and bows with hum|ble submission to God; rejoices in his Being, charac|ter, laws and government; devotes himself to him, in obedience to all his commands, in seeking and pro|moting his glory and the interest of his kingdom; con|stantly admiring and adoring that sovereign, rich and won|derful grace, which the gospel exhibits, and which is dis|played in the salvation of sinners: And being such an one, humbles himself before God, and flies to the Re|deemer as the only refuge, loving and delighting in his person and character; and with great pleasure pours out his heart before him, in the most sincere, ardent expressions of his feelings, affections and desires.

And in his affections and conduct towards men, he is humble, meek, patient and longsuffering, forgiving injuries, innocent and blameless, just, benevolent and

kind towards all, even his greatest enemies, wishing and praying for the best and greatest blessings on them. He is temperate in all things, not indulging any bodi|ly appetite to his own or his neighbour's hurt, or so as in any respect to unfit him for the proper duties of his station, and the service of God, or deprive him of the higher and more exalted exercises and pleasures of religion.

This is a brief sketch of the beautiful, excellent char|acter, and of the refined, soul satisfying enjoyments, to which Christianity forms, and which it gives to all its sincere votaries, in a higher or lower degree: Which the reader has seen exemplified in the preceding life and extracts, and in which the character and enjoy|ments of a true christian are exhibited in a more con|vincing, affecting and pleasing light, than can be done by any mere verbal description. And the serious reader, who has properly attended to the Bible, will see that such a character is there described and inculcated on all chris|tians, and set in a beautiful light; and that nothing is wanting in order to form mankind to true 〈◊〉〈◊〉 ex|cellence and happiness, as individuals, or in society, in this world, but to become real christians, though with a degree of imperfection. How amiable and happy then will the world of mankind be, when they shall be|come christians in a higher and more perfect degree, than any now are, or have been, and shall flock with one accord to the church of Christ, and put on her beautiful garments! The scripture is full of predictions of this great and happy event; and at the same time gives a most lively, exhilarating description of the glo|ry and happiness of that day. But all this will be but a shadow, and imperfect foretaste of the glory and ev|erlasting perfect happiness, to which the redeemed are going.

And now, let any one contemplate the character and enjoyments of those who discard or neglect Christiani|ty, and consider what is their highest excellence and happiness, if they really have any; and whether they can be compared to that which Christianity gives to all who cordially embrace it; or are even worthy the pur|suit

or wish of a rational creature. Shall we go to hea|then idolaters, to Mahometans, or Jews, to find true happiness, or men really amiable and excellent? The least attention to these is sufficient to convince that neither excellence of character nor true happiness is to be found here. It is therefore needless to go into par|ticulars, in order to make the comparison.

Does the Deist possess, or can he have a prospect of any thing, which may be compared with what the chris|tian obtains; or which has any real excellence and happiness, suited to a rational, immortal mind? He has no God, to whom he can have access with confidence, or even without presumption. For how does he know that God is accessible to creatures; especially, sinful creatures? No wonder then, that persons of this char|acter generally, if not universally, neglect every thing that may be called piety, and live "without God in the world." They therefore must be utter strangers to that noble, exalted happiness, which the true christian has in the knowledge, love and enjoyment of God, and are ••••••ally destitute of that beautiful, excellent moral character, which is implied in this, and consequently have a contrary character, as deformed and odious, as the other is beautiful. They have no certain prospects of any kind of happiness in a future state: For they have no light by which they can know there will be any such state. And if they consider themselves as go|ing to such a state, they have no reason to believe it will be a happy one. They are sinners: At most, they cannot be certain they are not; and it is impossible they should have any evidence that a sinner may or can be pardoned. They can therefore enjoy no happiness in the prospects of a future state, or from any object that is invisible. All their enjoyment therefore must be tem|porary and worldly. Their true character, if examined with discerning, will appear to be composed of igno|rance of all those things which are truly great and ex|cellent; of pride and arrogance, and a contracted, worldly mind. All their exercises are stamped with that delusion, pride and folly, which render their whole character truly mean and despicable. How mean and

low, yea, sordid, are all their enjoyments in life, com|pared with those of a christian! The life and extracts, to which we have been attending, serve to illustrate all that has been said in this paragraph.

And what is the character and happiness of all those who neglect Christianity in their affection and practice, though they may profess to believe it is from heaven, and are seeking only a worldly good? The answer is easy, from what has been observed above. They know not what true happiness is; and are enemies to the true character of God, and all that is really good. Their taste is perverted, and they are seeking for happiness where it is not to be found. They are involved in strong delusion, and the greatest folly, and really mis|erable; and if they continue in this character through life, they must be unspeakably miserable forever?

The certain conclusion, therefore, is, If there be any true religion for man, or any happiness for him, suited to his nature and capacities, Christianity is from heav|en. And if there be no truth in this, there is none to be found that is true; and man must be miserable. It is impossible he should obtain that true excellence, dig|nity and glory of which he is capable, by his natural rational powers. But it appears from fact and experi|ence, in the instance before us, and in others innume|rable, as well as from speculation and reason, that Chris|tianity, if cordially embraced, will raise men to a high, beautiful and excellent character, and make them com|pletely happy forever. Therefore, it is the only true religion, and is divine.

II. THAT which is here recorded of Miss Anthony's life and exercises, may serve to teach us what true re|ligion is, as distinguished from all counterfeits.

We have here Christianity set before us by an ex|ample of it, as it consists in doctrines or truths believed, and in the views, belief and affections of the heart of a real christian. True christians may differ in the degree of clearness and certainty, with which they believe and embrace the doctrines revealed in the Bible; and con|sequently they may and do differ in the strength and

constancy of the exercises which they have in the view of divine truth: But their creed is, as to substance, the same, and they agree in all the peculiar, important doc|trines contained in divine revelation. Therefore their views, feelings and exercises of heart, are alike, as to the nature and kind of them, having the same system of divine truth for the foundation on which they are built, and in the view and belief of which the whole system of their religious affections is formed. There|fore, though christians may differ in some circumstanc|es, in their belief, views, and exercises of heart, and some have higher and stronger affections, and more free from any mixture of error and mistake than others; yet the latter, when they have the views and affections of the former set before them, will be conscious that their religious experiences are of the same kind with those of the other, though they fall greatly short in de|gree. And as in water face answereth to face, so do the hearts of the latter to those of the former; they having all "drank into the same Spirit," though in dif|ferent degrees. And this will naturally establish their hearts, and strengthen their hope and confidence, that they do know and embrace the truth; and that this is true religion, the religion which the Bible inculcates; when they see it exemplified in such an eminent de|gree: And it will serve to humble, encourage and quicken them.

And as the creed and religious views and exercises of true christians are so much alike, as to their nature and kind, and they are so far of the same mind, taste and judgment; this lays a foundation for a similarity in conversation and conduct, in the practice of all the du|ties, and attendance on the institutions commanded in the gospel, as an expression and testimony of their faith and internal exercises of religion.

By these observations we are led to consider the creed, religious affections, and conduct, exhibited in the life and writings of Miss Anthony; in which her re|ligion consisted.

She had a firm belief of the doctrine of the Trinity of persons in Deity, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost;

and of the divinity of Jesus Christ; that he is the Son of God, in a sense which implies that he is the true God. No one can read the foregoing extracts with|out observing, that much of her religious exercises im|plied these truths, and was built upon them; so that the denial of them would overthrow all her religion. This was the God she loved, and chose for her portion, in the service and enjoyment of whom she placed her happiness.

The sovereignty of God in the exercise of his grace in the salvation of sinners, and their absolute and en|tire dependence on his sovereign pleasure, while he has mercy on whom he will have mercy, and hardeneth whom he will, and all the truths implied in this, were familiar to her mind, and constantly acknowledged, ex|plicitly or by implication; in all her exercises. In these are included the doctrine of the divine decrees, respecting all things; and of particular election; and a universal and particular providence, ordering and di|recting every event, from the greatest to the least.

She had a very sensible conviction and belief of the universal apostasy and total depravity of mankind, grounded on the testimony of the divine oracles, and her own observation and experience. Her own moral depravity, the strength, odiousness and criminality of it, was a constant burden to her, and the cause of her humiliation, feeling that it was all her own inexcusa|ble wickedness, for which she deserved to be cast off by God, and perish forever: To which awful destruc|tion she considered every sinner as certainly going, who lives and dies in impenitence. And she knew that none but a divine, almighty, infinitely wise and gra|cious Redeemer could deliver from this state of deprav|ity and guilt, and form her to perfect holiness. And, in the view of this she saw, admired and praised the in|finite, wonderful grace displayed in the salvation of sin|ners. The reader will see all these truths and exercises exhibited in a clear and striking manner in her writings.

The view and sense she had of the exceeding, inex|pressible wickedness of her heart, and the strength and great degree of corruption of it, expressed in such strong and striking language as she often uses, some

may think to be inconsistent with grace, or the new heart, which is described in the Bible; that she was either deceived, and magnified her own depravity be|yond the truth, or was not a real christian. But such an opinion will doubtless appear to be groundless, when it is considered that real holiness of heart is consistent with a great degree of remaining moral depravity, which may at times most sensibly exert itself, even in the heart of the most eminent christian, in this life. "The flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh: And these are contrary the one to the other, so that ye cannot do the things that ye would," is the character which the Apostle Paul gave of every christian. And the greater degree of true ho|liness the christian has, the more clear and painful dis|cerning he will have of the remaining depravity and corruption of his own heart; and the more hateful and dreadful it will appear. Hence it follows, that the most eminent christian sees more of the sinfulness of his own heart, and laments it more, than those who have not at|tained to so great a degree of holiness. Miss Anthony's conviction and exercises of this kind, therefore, were so far from being imaginary, or an evidence that she was not a christian, that they are a testimony of her great proficiency in the christian life, and that knowledge of her own heart, which they who have not so much ho|liness, and consequently have less discerning, do not attain to; and which might be reasonably expected in so eminent a christian; in which she imitated that great saint, the Apostle Paul▪ in his expressions of the depravity of his own heart, Rom. vii. 13. to the end of the chapter; which description, some, it is to be feared, from too little acquaintance with their own hearts, have thought could no•• ••pply to any true christian, especial|ly to one so eminent as the Apostle Paul.

Under a clear and most sensible conviction of her in|finite guilt and ill desert, and the unspeakably great and awful depravity of her heart, she cordially embrac|ed the doctrine of pardon, justification and complete redemption, by the atonement and righteousness of Je|sus Christ, to be obtained by faith in him. And on

his mediation, power, wisdom and free grace alone did she rely for salvation from guilt, moral depravity, and all evil.

She firmly believed that the covenant of grace does contain a promise to every believer in Christ, that they shall be kept by the power of God, through faith, unto salvation. And that, at the death of the body, the friends of Christ enter into a state of perfect holiness and un|speakable happiness, which shall never end; but shall increase to the time of the general resurrection, and the day of judgment, and from thence forever. And that the punishment of all who die in their sins, will be in|conceivably dreadful, and without end.

Every one who shall read what has been produced from her writings will see that all her religious exer|cises were in the view and belief of these doctrines, and that the latter were the foundation of the former.

AND now the nature, kind and complexion of these ex|ercises and affections must be considered, as they appear and are expressed in her writings, in which the genuine religious feelings and motions of her heart are exhibited.

At first view, they appear not to be felfish; but to consist summarily in that disinterested LOVE which seeketh not her own; and all those religious affections which are implied in this—In disinterested, benevolent regard to God, and the Redeemer, his glory, interest and kingdom—In complacence and delight in the di|vine character, loving God for what he is in himself, as exhibited in his word and works; in the exercise of which love she with pleasure devoted herself to God, and gave herself away to him, with all she was, and could do, to be used by him for his glory and the ad|vancement of his church and kingdom, making this her highest and only end, and placing her whole interest and happiness in it.

And this disinterested, benevolent, complacential, grateful affection, to God and the Redeemer, united her heart to the disciples of Christ, and his church, with peculiar and strong affection, and filled her with good will and compassion to mankind; accompanied with

ardent longings to be conformed to God in true holi|ness, and to have the most complete and uninterrupted knowledge and enjoyment of him: At the same time acknowledging her own infinite unworthiness of the least favour, humbling herself before God for her sins and depravity of heart, in the exercise of deep repent|ance and brokenness of heart; feeling herself to be a mean, contemptible creature; admiring the astonishing free grace of God in shewing mercy to such an one; accompanied with a humble, unconditional submission to the will of God, being pleased with all his laws and his government, and rejoicing that the Lord does reign.

AND in the view and belief of the doctrines which have been mentioned, and others which are implied in them; and in the exercise, and from the influence of those affections now briefly described, she made a pub|lic profession of religion, and joined to a church of Christ, entering into a solemn covenant to live in obe|dience to Christ; in attending upon all his institu|tions, and in the practice of the duties which he re|quires of his followers. In which public dedication of herself to the Lord, and union to a christian church, she always rejoiced, as an inestimable privi|lege: And continued to walk in all the ordinances of the Lord blameless, unto her death; adorning the doc|trine of Christ.

She excelled in the practice of devotion and prayer, and could not live comfortably when deprived of op|portunity and convenience for retirement and secret de|votion, in meditation, reading the Bible and prayer, and devoted many whole days to secret fasting and prayer. She highly prized the christian Sabbath, and attend|ance on public worship and the Lord's Supper; and was very careful and diligent in her preparation for at|tendance on these important, and to her delightful insti|tutions. She diligently improved the advantages and opportunities she had to study and read, and gain relig|ious knowledge, in which she made great advances.

She was temperate and abstemious in eating and drinking, carefully denying herself of every thing of

this kind, which she found had the least tendency to unfit her for incumbent duty. And in her apparel she desired nothing for the sake of show; but put on mod|est clothing, and sought no more than to appear clean|ly and decent; while her ornament was a meek and quiet spirit, attended with good works.

She was not talkative; but free in conversation with particular friends; especially on matters of religion. She was always on her guard against backbiting and speaking evil of others, which she greatly abhorred, when it took place in her hearing. She was a faithful friend, who might be safely relied upon, that she would not betray the confidence reposed in her, by divulging any secrets, or in any other way.

She was conscientiously concerned to perform all relative duties; diligent and faithful in her proper busi|ness. Was kind and compassionate to the afflicted, the poor and destitute; and not only prayed for them, but was ready and glad to minister to their relief and com|fort, so far as she had opportunity and ability. She was forward to do all in her power for the support of the gospel: And though she had not much to contrib|ute for this end, yet she did more in this way, doubt|less, than most of the opulent, in the sight of Him who asserted this of the poor widow contributing only one farthing. And her benevolence extended to all mankind, even to her enemies. Witness her writings and prayers.

AND, now, who can seriously attend to all this, and not be sensible that it must be true religion, if there be any such thing as religion, consisting in doctrines and truths believed, and internal affections and exercises, and external conduct, answerable to them? Surely there can be no opposite or different sentiments, affec|tions and conduct, which agree with the Bible, or with truth and reason, or that can render a person truly ex|cellent, amiable and useful. These differ so essentially in nature and kind, that they may be easily distinguish|ed from all those religious appearances and pretences which are built on falsehood and delusion. They are of a different and opposite nature; especially those

religious affections, which are wholly selfish, and there|fore contracted and mercenary.

This example, which appears to be copied from the Bible, and shows in what Christianity consists, when re|duced to practice, as distinguished from all spurious and false religion, does at the same time demonstrate the excellency of it, and that it is indeed a divine insti|tution, adapted, as nothing else is, or can be, to raise depraved sinners from the depths of deformity, guilt and woe, to all that perfection, glory and happiness, of which their nature is capable.

III. THE example and character of this person is worthy of the particular attention and imitation of young people.

She devoted herself to the service of Christ in her youth. And who is there that can refuse to approve and applaud her choice? How amiable and happy does she appear! Had she made an opposite choice, and neglected religion in the pursuit of sensual gratifica|tions, and the indulgence of pride and a worldly mind, giving herself up to the levity, vanity, and folly, which commonly take place in the companies and conversation of youth; without any concern for her soul and future existence, or proper improvement of her mental pow|ers, how mean, despicable and miserable would she have been! Let young persons attend to the contrast, and learn wisdom. The only way properly to enlarge their men|tal capacities; to put on true worth and dignity; to be happy here, and forever, is to devote themselves to the service of Christ. How amiable is early piety! What a happy foundation does it lay for improvement in every worthy attainment, and true enjoyment; which will issue in distinguished glory and happiness forever! Can you begin too soon to be reasonable, amiable and happy, and to lay up this everlasting treas|ure in heaven?

The course which Miss Anthony took from her youth, and the life she lived, was attended with many pains and distresses, as the reader will observe; but as these were necessary, and the way which her wise and

kind Saviour took to cure her of her moral disorders, and fit her for heaven; and were attended with a rear enjoyment and happiness, which unspeakably surpasses all the happiness they do or can enjoy, who are stran|gers to true religion; these difficulties and pains which attend it, do not afford the least reason or excuse for neglecting it for a moment. Consistent with all this, the yoke, the service of Christ, is easy, and his burden light.

It is also true that if youth devote themselves to re|ligion, they may expect to be overlooked, if not despis|ed, by worldly people, as disagreeable to them, and un|worthy their company, who are pursuing only the pleas|ures of sense, and the enjoyment of the things of this world, as the great and only good, and are fond of the enchanting amusements, gaiety, grandeur and riches of this world. But how little and light a thing is it to be wholly neglected or despised by such deluded fools; when it is only for that character and conduct, for which they ought to esteem, love and caress you; and for which you have the approbation of heaven, and of all the wise and good on earth! And at the same time you are feasted with a rich and delicious entertainment, and are going into complete, endless happiness, while they are attempting to satisfy themselves with husks, and are plunging into endless miseries!

If the gay, rich and great of this world, who are stran|gers to real piety, who delight in show and parade, to glitter in costly array, and shine at balls and assemblies, and know no higher good than the enjoyment of such companies; the diversions of the theatre, stage, or card table, reading romances, or idle, senseless chat: If those of this character, whether men or women, should know how much more real worth and excellence all those who are eminently pious do possess, than themselves; how highly esteemed and beloved all such are in heaven; and how mean, foolish and despicable they appear in the sight of the Saviour, and all his true friends; they would either be ashamed of themselves and repent; or their hearts would be filled with envy, rage and blasphemy!

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  In the 17th year of her age.
• * 1.2

  She was then in her fourteenth year,
• * 1.3

  She then wanted six days of being 15 years old.
• * 1.4

  She was educated in the profession of the Quakers, as her parents were of that denomination.
• * 1.5

  When she had covered on the 16th year of her age.
• * 1.6

  Not quite 16 years old.
• * 1.7

  The day before she was 16 years old.
• * 1.8

  Hence it appears that she was 27 years old, when she wrote this.
• * 1.9

  Mr. Helyer had been lately ordained colleague with the Rev. and aged Mr. Clap; and was now in a consumption, of which he soon died.
• * 1.10

  Miss Anthony, from the constitution of her animal frame, or from some unknown cause, was from her youth greatly terrified by thunder; and was often thrown into great perturbation and distress, when there were any signs of a thunder storm: And even when there were no appear|ances of it, she was sometimes in constant distress and terror from day to day, by apprehensions of it; which seems to have been her case, when she wrote this.

  It was truly unaccountable, that a person of such piety, and who was often raised above the fear of death, and did frequently long for it, should be thus terrified. What she suspected, was doubtless true, that the tempter took advantage of this animal weakness and propensity, to work on her imagination, and confuse, disconcert, and perplex her mind. In the after part of her life, she was in a great degree delivered from these fears.
• * 1.11

  She then lived at a little distance from the town.
• * 1.12

  She now reckons according to the alteration from old style to new.
• * 1.13

  Some account of this society of women: and of her praying with them, is given, page 7.
• * 1.14

  She had heard a sermon from these words the day before, preach|ed by the Rev. Mr. Wales of Marshfield.