CHAPTER VII (2)

“But these impressions seemed quickly to decline; and he remained in a great measure careless and secure, until some time late in the autumn of the year following; when he fell into a weak and languishing state of body, and continued much disordered for several weeks together. At this season divine truth took hold of him, and made deep impressions upon his mind. He was brought under great concern for his soul; and his exercises were not now transient and unsteady, but constant and abiding, so that his mind was burdened from day to day; and it was now his great inquiry, ‘What he should do to be saved?’ This spiritual trouble prevailed, until his sleep in a great measure departed from him, and he had little rest day or night; but walked about under great pressure of mind, for he was still able to walk, and appeared like another man to his neighbors, who could not but observe his behavior with wonder. After he had been some time under this exercise, while he was striving to obtain mercy, he says there seemed to be an impassable mountain before him. He was pressing toward heaven, as he thought; but ‘his way was hedged up with thorns, so that he could not stir an inch further.’ He looked this way, and that way, but could find no way at all. He thought if he could but make his way through these thorns and briers, and climb up the first steep pitch of the mountain, that then there might be hope for him; but no way or means could he find to accomplish this. Here he labored for a time, but all in vain. He saw it was impossible, he says, for him ever to help himself through this insupportable difficulty—‘It signified just nothing at all for him to struggle and strive any more.’ Here, he says, he gave over striving, and felt that it was a gone case with him as to his own power, and that all his attempts were, and for ever would be, vain and fruitless. Yet he was more calm and composed under this view of things, than he had been while striving to help himself.

“While he was giving me this account of his exercises, I was not without fears that what he related was but the working of his own imagination, and not the effect of any divine illumination of mind. But before I had time to discover my fears, he added, that at this time he felt himself in a miserable and perishing condition; that he saw plainly what he had been doing all his days; and that he had ‘never done one good thing,’ as he expressed it. He knew he was not guilty of some wicked actions of which he knew some others guilty. He had not been accustomed to steal, quarrel, and murder; the latter of which vices are common among the Indians. He likewise knew that he had done many things that were right; he had been kind to his neighbors, &c. But still his cry was, that ‘he had never done one good thing;’ meaning that he had never done any thing from a right principle, and with a right view. ‘And now I thought,’ said he, ‘that I must sink down to hell; that there was no hope for me, because I never could do any thing that was good: and if God let me alone ever so long, and I should try ever so much, still I should do nothing but what is bad.’

“This further account of his exercises satisfied me that it was not the mere working of his imagination, since he appeared so evidently to die to himself, and to be divorced from a dependence upon his own righteousness and good deeds, to which mankind in a fallen state are so much attached, and upon which they are so ready to hope for salvation.

“There was one thing more in his view of things at this time, which was very remarkable. He not only saw, he says, what a miserable state he himself was in; but he likewise saw that the world around him, in general, were in the same perishing circumstances, notwithstanding the profession which many of them made of Christianity, and the hope which they entertained of obtaining everlasting happiness. This he saw clearly, ‘as if he was now waked out of sleep, or had a cloud taken from his eyes.’ He saw that the life which he had lived was the way to eternal death, that he was now on the brink of endless misery; and when he looked around he saw multitudes of others, who had lived the same life with himself, persons who had no more goodness than he, and yet dreamed that they were safe enough, as he had formerly done. He was fully persuaded, by their conversation and behavior, that they had never felt their sin and misery, as he now felt his.

“After he had been for some time in this condition, sensible of the impossibility of helping himself by any thing he could do, or of being delivered by any created arm; so that he had ‘given up all for lost,’ as to his own attempts, and was become more calm and composed; then, he says, it was borne in upon his mind, as if it had been audibly spoken to him, ‘There is hope, there is hope.’ Whereupon his soul seemed to rest, and be in some measure satisfied, though he had no considerable joy.

“He cannot here remember distinctly any views he had of Christ, or give any clear account of his soul’s acceptance of him, which makes his experience appear the more doubtful, and renders it less satisfactory to himself and others than it might be if he could remember distinctly the apprehensions and actings of his mind at this season. But these exercises of soul were attended and followed with a very great change in the man; so that it might justly be said he was become another man, if not a new man. His conversation and deportment were much altered; and even the careless world could not but wonder what had befallen him, to make so great a change in his temper, discourse, and behavior. Especially there was a surprising alteration in his public performances. He now addressed the Indians with admirable fervency, and scarcely knew when to leave off. Sometimes, when I had concluded my discourse and was returning homeward, he would tarry behind to repeat and inculcate what had been spoken.

“His change is abiding, and his life, so far as I know, unblemished to this day; though it is now more than six months since he experienced this change; in which space of time he has been as much exposed to strong drink as possible, in divers places where it has been moving as free as water; and yet has never, that I know of, discovered any hankering desire after it. He seems to have a very considerable experience of spiritual exercise, and discourses feelingly of the conflicts and consolations of a real Christian. His heart echoes to the soul-humbling doctrines of grace, and he never appears better pleased than when he hears of the absolute sovereignty of God, and the salvation of sinners in a way of mere free grace. He has lately had also more satisfaction respecting his own state and has been much enlightened and assisted in his work; so that he has been a great comfort to me.

“After a strict observation of his serious and savory conversation, his christian temper, and unblemished behavior for such a length of time, as well as his experience, of which I have given an account; I think that I have reason to hope that he is ‘created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.’ His name is Moses Finda Fautaury. He is about fifty years of age, and is pretty well acquainted with the pagan notions and customs of his countrymen; and so is the better able now to expose them. He has, I am persuaded, already been, and I trust will yet be, a blessing to the other Indians.

July 23.—“Preached to the Indians, but had few hearers: Those who are constantly at home, seem, of late, to be under some impressions of a religious nature.

July 30.—“Discoursed to a number of my people, and gave them some particular advice and direction; being now about to leave them for the present, in order to renew my visit to the Indians in New-Jersey. They were very attentive to my discourse, and earnestly desirous to know when I designed to return to them again.”

Crossweeksung, (New-Jersey,) August, 1745.

Aug. 3.—“I visited the Indians in these parts in June last, and tarried with them a considerable time, preaching almost daily; at which season God was pleased to pour upon them a spirit of awakening and concern for them souls, and surprisingly to engage their attention to divine truths. I now found them serious, and a number of them under deep concern for an interest in Christ. Their convictions of their sinful and perishing state were, in my absence from them, much promoted by the labors and endeavors of Rev. William Tennent; to whom I had advised them to apply for direction; and whose house they frequented much while I was gone. I preached to them this day with some view to Rev. 22:17. ‘And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely;’ though I could not pretend to handle the subject methodically among them. The Lord, I am persuaded, enabled me, in a manner somewhat uncommon, to set before them the Lord Jesus Christ as a kind and compassionate Savior, inviting distressed and perishing sinners to accept everlasting mercy. A surprising concern soon became apparent among them. There were about twenty adult persons together; many of the Indians at remote places not having as yet had time to come since my return hither; and not above two that I could see with dry eyes.

“Some were much concerned, and discovered vehement longings of soul after Christ, to save them from the misery they felt and feared.

Lord’s day, Aug. 4.—“Being invited by a neighboring minister to assist in the administration of the Lord’s supper, I complied with his request, and took the Indians along with me; not only those who were together the day before, but many more who were coming to hear me; so that there were nearly fifty in all, old and young. They attended the several discourses of the day; and some of them, who could understand English, were much affected; and all seemed to have their concern in some measure raised.

“Now a change in their manners began to appear very visible. In the evening, when they came to sup together they would not taste a morsel until they had sent to me to come and supplicate a blessing on their food; at which time sundry of them wept; especially when I reminded them how they had in times past eat their feasts in honor to devils, and neglected to thank God for them.

August 5.—“After a sermon had been preached by another minister, I preached, and concluded the public work of the solemnity from John, 7:37; and in my discourse addressed the Indians in particular, who sat in a part of the house by themselves; at which time one or two of them were struck with deep concern, as they afterward told me, who had been little affected before; and others had their concern increased to a considerable degree. In the evening, the greater part of them being at the house where I lodged, I discoursed to them, and found them universally engaged about their soul’s concerns; inquiring ‘what they should do to be saved.’ All their conversation among themselves turned upon religious matters, in which they were assisted by my Interpreter, who was with them day and night.

“This day there was one woman, who had been much concerned for her soul ever since she first heard me preach in June last, who obtained comfort, I trust, solid and well grounded. She seemed to be filled with love to Christ. At the same time she behaved humbly and tenderly, and appeared afraid of nothing so much as of offending and grieving him whom her soul loved.

Aug. 6.—“In the morning I discoursed to the Indians at the house where we lodged. Many of them were much affected, and appeared surprisingly tender; so that a few words about the concerns of their souls would cause the tears to flow freely, and produce many sobs and groans. In the afternoon they being returned to the place where I had usually preached among them, I again discoursed to them there. There were about fifty-five persons in all; about forty that were capable of attending Divine service with understanding. I insisted on 1 John, 4:10. ‘Herein is love.’ &c. They seemed eager of hearing; but there appeared nothing very remarkable, except their attention, till near the close of my discourse; and then Divine truth was attended with a surprising influence, and produced a great concern among them. There were scarcely three in forty who could refrain from tears and bitter cries. They all as one seemed in an agony of soul to obtain an interest in Christ; and the more I discoursed of the love and compassion of God in sending his Son to suffer for the sins of men; and the more I invited them to come and partake of his love; the more their distress was aggravated, because they felt themselves unable to come. It was surprising to see how their hearts seemed to be pierced with the tender and melting invitations of the Gospel, when there was not a word of terror spoken to them.