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THE 


W  O  R  K^ 


PRESIDENT  EDWARDS 


MEMOIR  OF  HIS  LIFE. 


IN    TEN   VOLUMES, 


VOL.  I. 


NEW  YORK: 

G.  &  C.  <fe  H.  CARVILL, 

1830. 


District  of  Connecticut,  ss. 

BE  it  remembered,  That  on  the  eleventh  day  of  December,  in  the  :  .y-fourth  year  of  the  In- 
dependence of  the  United  States  o  '  America,  "'■^roic  R.  Dwight,  of  u^e  said  District,  hath  depo- 
sited in  this  office  the  title  if  a  'i,  .i«.rigf  rei'  ;o  'h  'works"  he  claims  js  proprietor, 
and  to  the  "memoir"  as  author,  in  the  words  following  •  ->  -vit : 

"The  Works  of  President  Edwards,  wi         Memoi'    >(  his  Life.    In  tea  volumes." 

In  conformity  to  the  act  of  Congreiss  of  the  t;  -d  Stf*^  ,  entitled  "xkn  act  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  map-,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  pro- 
prietors of  such  copies,  during  the  unies  therein  mentioned ;"  and  also  lo  an  act,  entitled  "An 
act  supplementary  to  an  act,  entitled  An  act  for  the  encouragement  of  learning,  by  securing  the 
copies'of  maps,  charts,  and  books,  to  the  authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the 
times  therein  mentioned,  and  extending  the  benefits  thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving, 
and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

CHAS.  A.  INGERSOLL,  Clerk  of  the  District  of  Connecticut. 

A  true  copy  of  record,  examined  and  sealed  by  me. 

CHAS.  A.  INGERSOLL,  Clerk  of  the  District  of  Connecticut. 


ADVERTlSEMEN^i^i 


The  length  of  time,  which  has  elapsed,  since  this 
edition  of  the  Works  of  President  Edwards  was,  in  a 
sense,  announced,  needs  a  brief  explanation. 

His  manuscripts  were  so  illegible,  and  left  in  such 
a  state,  that  it  was  impossible  to  decide  on  the  pub- 
lication of  any  of  them,  until  they  were  copied.  The 
materials  for  his  Life,  were  to  be  sought  for  in  remote 
places,  by  consulting  those  advanced  in  life,  by  find- 
ing out  family  traditions,  by  copying  records,  by  col- 
lecting letters,  manuscripts  and  pamphlets,  and  the 
original  editions  of  his  works,  in  libraries  of  long 
standing,  and  in  the  collections  of  antiquaries.  Many 
of  the  manuscripts,  thus  discovered,  were  so  illegible, 
that  no  one  could  be  found  to  undertake  the  task  of 
copying  them.  According  to  the  original  plan,  the 
negligences  of  language  in  the  published  works  were 
to  be  corrected  ;  and  this  plan  was  not  relinquished, 
until  the  slow  process  of  correcting  them  with  the 
pen,  on  the  printed  page,  was  far  advanced  towards 
completion.  The  expense  of  copying  the  manu- 
scripts of  Mr.  Edwards,  was  also  heavy,  and  could 
not  have  been  defrayed,  but  for  the  liberality  of  a 
friend.  Without  any  farther  detail  of  circumstances, 
it  need  only  be  stated,  that  the  whole  work,  including 
the  examination  and  copying  of  the  manuscripts,  the 
preparation  of  the  unpublished  manuscripts,   and  of 


4  ADVERTISEMENT. 

the  LifeV:bd,s'o.ccijip.i^d Several  years  of  constant  labour, 
and  lias  been  purgiied'  unremittingly,  and  at  the  sa- 
crifice of  ltealtli;:l)y. 'a;  regular  devotion  to  it,  of  all 
the  timej,  that.coiidd  be  spared  from  professional  duties. 

In  pre.j)^rang' fKe -Mermoir,  the  Life  by  Dr.  Hopkins, 
which  is  the  testimony  of  an  eye-ivitness,  has  been  in- 
corporated ;  and  the  quotations  are  marked  in  the 
usual  way,  except  where  the  paragraphs  are  seriously 
altered  by  the  insertion  of  new  matter.  In  the  last 
chapter,  free  use  is  made  of  a  brief  sketch  of  the 
Life  and  Character  of  Mr.  Edwards,  (also  the  testi- 
mony of  an  eye-witness,)  by  a  gentleman  connected 
with  the  college  at  Princeton,  probably  Dr.  Finley, 
inserted  in  the  first  edition  of  the  Treatise  on  Origi- 
nal Sin  ;  as  well  as  of  a  well  written  review  of  the 
Worcester  Edition  of  his  works,  in  the  Christian 
Spectator.  To  a  friend  I  am  indebted,  for  the  very 
brief  account  of  the  two  Treatises  on  Original  Sin, 
and  the  Freedom  of  the  Will. 

The  works,  heretofore  published,  are  taken  from 
the  English  Edition,  as  far  as  it  contained  them,  with- 
out alterations  of  the  language.  The  notes  of  its 
editor.  Dr.  Williams,  are  marked  with  a  W.  at  the 
end,  and  have  been  retained  by  request. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I. 

His  Descent.  Family  of  Edwards.  Family  of  Stoddard.  His  Fa- 
ther's Family •  •  •  •  9 

CHAPTER  H. 
His  Birth  and  Education.     Earhest  Productions  of  his  Pen.  .  19 

CHAPTER  HI. 

Habits  of  Study.     Early  Productions.     Notes  on  the  Mind.  .  33 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Early  Productions  continued.      Notes  on  Natural  Science.  .  41 

CHAPTER  V. 

Early  Religious  Productions.  "  Miscellanies."  "  Notes  on  the 
Scriptures."  Early  Religious  Impressions.  His  Personal  Nar- 
rative.        ...........       55 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Licensure.    Residence  in  New-York.    Personal  Narrative  continued. 

His  Seventy  Resolutions .  63 

CHAPTER  VH. 
His  Diary 75 

CHAPTER  VIH. 
His  Tutorship.     Sickness.     Invitation  to  Northampton.     Personal 
Narrative  continued.     Diary  concluded 95 

CHAPTER  IX. 

Settlement  in  the  ministry  at  Northampton.  Situation  of  things  at 
the  time  of  his  settlement.  Attention  to  Religion  in  the  Parish. 
Course  of  Study.  Habits  of  Life.  Marriage.  Death  and  Cha- 
racter of  Mr.  Stoddard.  Sickness  of  ?Jr.  Edwards.  Death  and 
Character  of  his  Sister  Jerusha.     His  first  Publication.      .         .107 

CHAPTER  X. 

Remarkable  Revival  of  Rehgion,  in  1734,  and  '35.  Its  Extent  and 
Power.  Manner  of  treating  Awakened  Sinners.  Causes  of  its 
Decline.  Religious  Controversy  in  Hampshire.  Death  of  his 
Sister  Lucy.  Characteristics  of  Mrs.  Edwards.  Remainder  of 
Personal  Narrative 1'20 

CHAPTER  XI. 

Narrative  of  Surprising  Conversions.  His  views  of  Revivals  of  Re- 
ligion. Remarkable  Providence  at  Northampton.  "  Five  Dis- 
courses." Mr.  Bellamy  a  resident  of  his  family.  History  of  Re- 
demption. Extra-Parochial  labours  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Sermon  at 
Enfield.     Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Rev.  Vv".  Williams.         .         .       137 

CHAPTER  XH. 

Commencement  of  a  second  Great  Revival  of  Religion,  in  the  Spring 
and  Summer  of  1 740.  Visit  of  Mr.  Whitefield  at  Northampton. 
Impulses.     Judging  of  the  Religious  Character  of  others.     Letter 


O  CONTENTS. 

to  his  Daughter.  Letter  to  a  young  Lady  in  Connecticut.  Lay 
Preaching.  Letter  of  Rev.  G.  Terinent.  Sermon  at  New-Ha- 
ven. Distinguishing  Marks  of  a  Work  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  Pre- 
face by  Mr.  Cooper  and  Mr.  Williams.     Mr.  Samuel  Hopkins.         146 

CHAPTER  XHL 
Temporary  Abatement  of  Religious  Attention.  Letter  to  Mr.  Bel- 
lamy. Missionary  Tour.  Success  at  Leicester.  Mr.  Hopkins 
becomes  a  member  of  his  family.  Mr.  Buell's  successful  labours 
at  Northampton.  Mr.  Edwards'  Narrative  of  the  Revival  at  North- 
ampton, in  1740,  '41,  '42.     Covenant  entered  into  by  the  Church.    157 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Mrs.  Edwards.     Her  solemn  self-dedication.     Her  uncommon  disco- 
veries of  the  Divine  Perfections  and  Glory;  and  of  the  Excellency 
of  Christ.     Remarks  concerning  them.         .....     171 

CHAPTER  XV. 

Extent  of  the  Revival  of  1740,  '41,  '42.  Auspicious  opening.  Op- 
posed by  its  enemies ;  and  injured  by  its  friends.  "Thoughts  on 
the  Revival  in  New-England."  Attestations  of  numerous  minis- 
ters. Causes  of  its  decline.  Influence  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  Mr. 
Tennent,  and  others.  Inflence  of  Mr.  Edwards'  Publications  in 
Scotland.  Great  Revival  of  Religion  there.  His  correspondents 
in  that  country.  Letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch.  Answer  to  do.  Let- 
ter from  Mr.  Robe 191 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

First  Interview  with  David  Brainerd.  Separations  from  Churches. 
Letter  to  Rev.  Mr.  Whitman.  Correspondence  with  Mr.  Clap. 
Character  of  that  gentleman.  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr. 
Abercrombie.  Letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch.  Views  of  the  Prophe- 
cies, relative  to  the  Church.  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr. 
Buell. 20a 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

Mistakes  extensively  prevalent  at  this  time,  as  to  the  nature  and  evi- 
dences of  True  Godliness.  "  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections." 
Design  and  Character  of  the  Work.  Republished  abroad.  Letter 
from  Mr.  Gillespie  concerning  it.  Letter  from  Mr.  Edwards  to 
Mr.  M'Culloch.  Reply  to  Mr.  Gillespie.  Proposal  made  in  Scot- 
land, for  United  Extraordinary  Prayer.  Efforts  of  Mr.  Edwards  to 
promote  it.  Letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch.  "  Humble  Attempt  to 
promote  Extraordinary  Prayer." 220 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Arrival  of  David  Brainerd  at  Northampton.  His  sickness  and  death 
at  the  house  of  Mr.  Edwards.  His  papers.  Death  of  Jerusha,  the 
second  daughter  of  Mr.  E.  Her  character.  Correspondence  of 
Mr.  E.  with  Rev.  John  Erskine.  Abstract  of  Mr.  E.'s  first  Letter 
to  Mr.  Erskine.  Plan  conceived  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Will. 
Death  of  Col.  Stoddard.  Kindness  of  Mr.  Erskine.  Letter  of 
Mr.  E.  to  him.  Second  Letter  from  Mr.  Gillespie.  Letter  to  Mr. 
M'Culloch.  Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Letter  from  Mr.  Willison. 
Life  and  Diary  of  Brainerd.  Letters  to  Messrs.  Erskine,  M'Cul- 
loch, and  Robe.  Ordination  of  Rev.  Job  Strong.  Anecdote  of 
Rev.  Mr.  Moody.  Letter  of  Mr.  E.  to  his  daughter  Mary.  Se- 
cond Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie 247 


CONTENTS.  7 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Commencement  of  Difficulties  at  Northampton.  Case  of  discipline. 
Conduct  of  the  Church.  Change,  as  to  admission  of  memhers,  ef- 
fected by  Mr.  Stoddard.  Controversy  with  Dr.  Mather.  Lax 
mode  of  admission,  early  introduced  into  Massachusetts.  Reasons 
of  its  extensive  adoption.  Mr.  Edwards  makes  known  his  senti- 
ments. Violent  ferment  iu  the  town.  Causes  of  it.  Mr.  Edwards 
not  allowed  to  preach  on  the  subject.  Publishes  "  Qualifications 
for  Communion."  The  Town  request  Mr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Clark 
to  answer  Mr.  Edwards'  Treatise.     Difficulties  in  the  choice  of  a 

Council, 288 

CHAPTER  XX. 

Mr.  Edwards'  own  Narrative.  History  of  his  own  Opinions  as  to  the 
point  in  Controversy.  Consequences  of  declaring  them.  Proposal 
to  preach  rejected  by  Committee.  Proposal  to  publish.  First  move- 
ment of  the  Precinct,  Oct.  16.  First  meeting  of  the  Church,  Oct.. 
22.  Meeting  and  Votes  of  Do.  Nov.  20.  Reply  of  Mr.  Edwards. 
Meetingof  Precinct,  Dec.  7.  Meeting  of  Church,  Dec.  11.  Let- 
ter of  Mr.  Edwards.     Preparatory  Council  agreed  on,  Dec.  12,    -     313 

CHAPTER  XXL 

Meeting  of  Previous  Council.  Remarks  of  Mr.  Edwards,  on  the 
question,  Whether  he  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  coun- 
ty, in  the  choice  of  a  Final  Council.  Remarks  of  Mr.  Edwards,  on 
the  question.  Whether  the  state  of  things  was  ripe  for  a  Final 
Council.  Proposal  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Result.  Adjournment. 
Measures  of  both  parties, 342 

CHAPTER  XXH. 

Adjourned  meeting  of  the  Preparatory  Council.  Farther  Remarks  of 
Mr.  Edwards  on  the  question.  Whether  he  ought  not  to  go  out  of  the 
County,  in  the  choice  of  the  Final  Council.  Council  refuse  to  ex- 
press their  opinion  on  this  point.  Mr.  Edwards'  Lectures  on  Qual- 
ifications for  Communion.  Attempted  interference  of  neighbouring 
Clergy.  Difficulties  relating  to  choice  of  Final  Council.  Choice 
of  that  Council,  May  3.  Meeting  and  Result  of  that  council,  June 
19.     Protest  of  Minority, 371 

CHAPTER  XXHL 

Result  of  Council,  and  Protest,  read.  Farewell  Sermon.  Postscript 
of  Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie.  Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Letter  to  Mr. 
M'Culloch.  Marriage  of  two  of  his  daughters.  Forbidden  to  preach 
at  Northampton.  Exemplary  conduct  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Proceed- 
ings of  his  Friends.     Council.     Proceedings  of  Church.     Letter 

of  Mr.  Hawley, 404 

CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Review  of  the  Dismission  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Causes.  Conduct  of  the 
Parties.     Designs  of  Providence, ,        428 

CHAPTER  XXV. 

Proposals  from  Stockbridge,  and  from  the  Commissioners.  Visit  to 
Stock  bridge.  Indian  Mission.  Housatonnucks.  Mohawks.  Dis- 
sensions of  English  inhabitants.  Mr.  HoUis'  munificence.  Letter 
to  Mr.  Hobby.  Reply  of  Rev.  Solomon  Williams.  Letter  to  Mr. 
Erskine.  Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie.  First  Letter  to  Mr.  Hollis. 
Removal  to  Stockbridge.  Letter  to  Hon.  Mr.  Hubbard.  Petition 
to  General  Court, 449 


8  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Letter  to  Sir  W.  Pepperell.  Letter  to  Lady  Pepperell.  Letter  to 
his  fatiier.  Arrival  of  Mr.  Havvley.  Increasing  importance  of 
Indian  Establishment.  Schemes  of  its  enemies.  Firm  stand  taken 
by  Mr.  Edwards.  Letter  to  Mr.  Oliver.  Letter  to  Commis- 
sioners. Difficulties  of  the  Mission.  Answer  to  Mr.  Williams. 
Letter  to  the  people  of  Northampton.  Marriage  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Burr.  Letter  to  Mr  Erskine.  Letter  to  Mr.  Hollis.  Letter  to 
Mr.  Hubbard. 474 

CHAPTER  XXVn. 

Vote  of  thanks  of  Commissioners.  Sermon  at  Newark.  Measures 
of  the  enemies  of  the' Mission  defeated.  Letter  to  Mr.  Oliver. 
Freedom  of  the  Will.  Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Deposition  of  Mr. 
Gillespie.  Letter  to  do.  Letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch.  Report  of 
Indian  Agent.  Reply  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Further  defeat  of  the 
enemies  of  the  Mission.         -------         501 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Letter  to  his  eldest  son.  Return  of  greater  part  of  the  Mohawks. 
Letter  to  Commissioners.  Mission  of  Mr.  Hawley  to  Onohquauga. 
Remainder  of  Mohawks  directed  to  return.  Freedom  of  the  Will. 
Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Proposal  of  Society  in  London.  Letter 
to  Mr.  Gillespie.  Design  and  character  of  the  Freedom  of  the  Will. 
Letters  from  Mr.  Hollis.  Surrender  of  Mohawk  School  to  Mr.  Ed- 
wards. Entire  Defeat  of  Enemies  of  Mission.  Return  of  remain- 
ing Mohawks, 525 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Sickness  of  Mr.  Edwards.  "  God's  Last  End  in  Creation."  "  Nature 
of  Virtue."  Mr.  Edwards'  second  son  resides  at  Onohquauga. 
Dangers  of  the  War.  Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Letter  to  Col. 
Williams.  Lord  Kaimes.  Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine.  Letter  to  Mr. 
M'Culloch.  Letter  of  Mr.  Bellamy.  Treatise  on  Original  Sin. 
Letter  to  his  Father.     Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine,  .         .         .         542 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

Death  of  President  Burr.  His  character.  Mr.  Edwards  chosen  his 
successor.  Letters  of  Mrs.  Burr, — To  a  gentleman  in  Scotland — 
To  a  gentleman  in  Boston — To  her  Mother.  Letter  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, to  the  Trustees  of  the  College.  Letter  of  Mrs.  Burr,  to  her 
father.  Letter  to  Mr.  Bellamy.  Council  dismiss  Mr.  Edwards. 
Inauguration  as  President.  First  Sermon  at  Princeton.  Sickness. 
Death.  Letter  of  Dr.  Shippen.  Letters  of  Mrs.  Edwards,  and  of 
her  daughter,  to  Mrs.  Burr.  Death  of  Mrs.  Burr.  Death  of  Mrs. 
Edwards, 564 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
Concluding  Remarks, 584 

FAREWELL  SERMON, 626 

APPENDIX,     ....  654 


LIFE 

OF 

PRESIDENT  EDWARDS, 


CHAPTER  I. 


His  Descent. — Family  of  Edwards. — Family  of  Stoddard. — 
His  Father's  Family. 

The  number  of  those  men,  who  have  produced  great  and 
permanent  changes  in  the  character  and  condition  of  mankind, 
and  stamped  their  own  image  on  the  minds  of  succeeding  ge- 
nerations, is  comparatively  small ;  and,  even  of  this  small  num- 
ber, the  great  body  have  been  indebted  for  their  superior  effi- 
ciency, at  least  in  part,  to  extraneous  circumstances,  while 
very  few  can  ascribe  it  to  the  simple  strength  of  their  own  in- 
tellect. Yet  here  and  there  an  individual  can  be  found,  who, 
by  his  mere  mental  energy,  has  changed  the  course  of  human 
thought  and  feeling,  and  led  mankind  onward  in  that  new  and 
better  path  which  he  had  opened  to  their  view. 

Such  an  individual  was  JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  Born 
in  an  obscure  colony  in  the  midst  of  a  wilderness,  and  educated 
at  a  seminary  just  commencing  its  existence  ;  passing  the  bet- 
ter part  of  his  life  as  the  pastor  of  a  frontier  village,  and  the 
residue  as  an  Indian  missionary  in  a  still  humbler  hamlet; 
he  discovered,  and  unfolded,  a  system  of  the  divine  moral 
government  so  new,  so  clear,  so  full,  that  while  at  its  first  dis- 
closure it  needed  no  aid  from  its  friends,  and  feared  no  oppo- 
sition from  its  enemies,  it  has  at  length  constrained  a  reluctant 
world  to  bow  in  homage  to  its  truth. 

The  two  families,  from  which  the  subject  of  the  present 
niemoir  was  immediately  descended,  are  those  of  Edwards 
and  Stoddard. 

The  family  of  EDWARDS  is  of  Welch  origin. 
The  Rev.  Richard  Edwards,  the  great-great-grandfather, 
and  earliest  known  ancestor  of  President  Edwards,  was  a  cler- 
VoL.  I.  2 


l(j  LIFE     OF    PRESIDENT    EJJWARD3. 

gyman  in  London,  in  the  time  of  Queen  Elizabeth.  He  came, 
according  to  the  family  tradition,  from  Wales  to  the  metropo- 
lis, and  was  of  the  established  church  ;  but  in  what  shire  his 
family  lived,  or  of  what  church  in  London  he  w  as  the  minister, 
is  not  known.  His  wife  Mrs.  Anxe  Edwards,  after  the  death 
of  her  husband,  married  Mr.  James  Coles  ;  who,  with  her  son, 
William  Edwards,  then  young  and  unmarried,  accompanied 
her  to  Hartford  in  Connecticut  about  the  year  1640,  where 
they  both  died. 

William  Edwards,  Esquire,  the  great-grandfather,  resided 
in  Hartford,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been  by  profession  a  mer- 
chant. His  wife  whose  christian  name  was  Agnes,  and  who 
came  when  a  young  lady  with  her  parents  to  America,  had  two 
brotliers  in  England — one  the  mayor  of  Exeter,  the  other  the 
mayor  of  Barnstable.  Their  marriage  occurred  probably  about 
the  year  1645.  It  is  not  known  whether  they  had  more  than 
one  child. 

Richard  Edwards,  Esquire,  the  grandfather,  so  far  as  can 
now  be  ascertained  the  only  child  of  W^illiam  and  Agnes  Ed- 
wards, was  born  at  Hartford  in  May,  1647,  and  resided  in  that 
town  during  his  life.  He  also  was  a  merchant  and  a  man  of  wealth 
and  respectability.*  At  an  early  age  he  became  a  commu- 
nicant in  the  Presbyterian  church  in  Hartford,  and  ad<jrned  his 
profession  by  a  long  life  of  conscientious  integrity,  and  unusual 
devotedness  to  the  prosperity  of  religion.  He  married  Eliza- 
beth TuTHiLL,  the  daughter  of  William  and  Elizabeth  Tuthill, 
who  came  from  Northamptonshire,  in  England.  Mr.  Tuthill 
\vas  a  merchant  of  New-Haven,  and  one  of  the  proprietors  of 
the  colony  attempted  on  Delaware  Bay.f  By  this  connection 
Mr.  Edwards  had  seven  children,  the  eldest  of  whom  was  the 
Rev.  Timothy  Edwards.  After  her  decease,  he  married  a 
Miss  Talcot,  of  Hartford,  sister  of  the  Hon.  John  Talcot,  by 
whom  he  had  six  children. J  He  died  April  20,  17 IS,  in  the 
71st  year  of  his  age  ;  exhibiting,  during  his  last  sickness,  a 
bright  example  of  christian  resignation  and  triumphant  faith.^ 

The  family  of  STODDARD  is  of  English  descent. 

Anthony  Stoddard,  Esquire,  the  maternal  great-grandfa- 
ther of  President  Edwards,  and  the  first  of  the  family  in  this 
country,  emigrated  from  the  west  of  England  to  Boston.  He 
had  five  wives  ;  the  first  of  whom,  Mary  Downing,  the  sister  of 
Sir  George  Dow^ning,  was  the  mother  of  the  Rev.  Solomon 

*  I  learned  these  particulars  at  East  Windsor,  in  1823,  from  two  parishionerB 
of  his  son,  the  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards,  both  of  them  upwards  of  ninety  years 
of  age. 

t  Trumbull's  Hist,  of  Connecticut,  Vol.  I.  pp.  178, 197.  and  SOL 
I  See  Appendix  A.  o  See  Appendix  B. 


LIFE    OB^    PRESIDENT    EDWARBS.  11 

Stoddard  of  Northampton.     His  other  children  were  Anthony, 
Simeon,  Samson,  and  Israel. 

The  Rev.  Solomon  Stoddard,  his  eldest  child,  and  the  ma- 
ternal grandfather  of  President  Edwards,  was  born  in  1643, 
and  received  the  degree  of  A.  B.  at  Harvard  College  in  1G62. 
Soon  after  his  licensure,  the  first  minister  of  Northampton,  the 
Rev.  Eleazer  Mather,  then  a  young  man,  died  ;*  and  the  par- 
ish applied  to  one  of  the  ministers  of  Boston  to  designate  a 
successor.  He  advised  them  at  all  hazards  to  secure  Mr* 
Stoddard.  When  the  parish  committee  applied  to  him,  he 
had  already  taken  his  passage  for  London,  and  put  his  effects 
on  board  the  ship  with  the  expectation  of  sailing  the  next  day  ; 
but,  through  the  earnest  solicitation  of  the  gentleman  who  had 
recommended  him,  he  was  induced  to  relinquish  the  voyage 
and  go  to  Northampton.  He  began  to  preach  there  in  1669, 
soon  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Mather,  and  on  the  4th  of  March, 
1670,  received  a  unanimous  call  from  the  church  and  people 
of  that  village  to  become  their  minister;  but  was  not  ordained 
until  September  11,  1672.  On  the  8th  of  March,  1670,  he 
married  Mrs.  Esther  Mather,  originally  Miss  Warham, 
the  youngest  child  of  Rev.  John  Warham,!  of  Windsor,  in 
Connecticut,  and  widow  of  his  predecessor,  who  had  left  three 
children. {  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stoddard  had  twelve  children  :  six 
sons  and  six  daughters.§  He  v/as  a  man  celebrated  through* 
out  the  colonies  for  his  capacity,  his  knowledge  of  men,  his 
influence  in  the  churches,  and  his  zeal  for  vital  religion ;  and 
will  long  be  remembered  for  his  valuable  writings,  which 
have  often  been  published  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. || 
He  was  the  minister  of  Northampton  from  1672  until  his  death 
in  1729,  and  left  impressions  of  a  character  strongly  marked 
for  originality,  for  talents,  for  energy  and  for  piety,  on  the 
minds  of  its  inhabitants,-  which  the  lapse  of  a  century  has 
scarcely  begun  to  diminish.  We  shall  have  frequent  occasion 
to  refer  to  him,  in  the  progress  of  this  memoir. 

The  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards,  ihe  father  of  President  Ed- 
wards, was  born  at  Hartford,  May  14,  1669,  and  pursued  his 
studies  preparatory  to  his  admission  to  College,  under  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Glover  of  Springfield,ir  a  gentleman,  distinguished 
for  his  classical  attainments.  In  1687,  he  entered  Harvard 
College,  at  that  time  the  only  seminary  in  the  colonies ;  and 
received  the  two  degrees  of  Bachelor  and  Master  of  Arts  on 
the  same  day,  July  4th,  1691,   one  in  the  morning  and  the 


*  Mr.  Mather  was  ordained  June  18,  1661,  and  died  July  24,  1669. 

+  See  Appendix  C.  %  See  Appendix  D.  \  See  Appendix  E. 

II  See  Appendix  F.  ^  Records  of  East  Windsor. 


12  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT     EDWARUS. 

Other  in  the  aftemoon  : — "  an  uncommon  mark  of  respect 
paid  to  his  extraordinary  proficiency  in  learning."*  After 
the  usual  course  of  theological  study,  at  that  time  longer  and 
more  thorough  than  it  was  during  the  latter  half  of  the  fol- 
lowing century,  he  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  of  the  gospel 
in  the  east  parish  of  Windsor  in  Connecticut,  in  May,  1694. 

Windsor  w^as  the  earliest  settlement  in  that  colony,  the  first 
house  having  been  erected  there  in  Oct.  1633.  The  original 
inhabitants  came  from  Devonshire,  Dorsetshire  and  Somerset- 
shire, in  England.  They  arrived  at  Boston  in  the  beginning 
of  the  year  1630;  and  planting  themselves  at  Dorchester  in 
Massachusetts,  were  there  formed  into  a  congregational 
church  on  the  20th  of  March ;  when  the  Rev.  John  Warham, 
previously  a  distinguished  clergyman  in  Exeter,  but  ejected 
as  a  non-conformist,  was  installed  their  pastor.  Finding 
themselves  straitened  for  room  at  that  place,  in  consequence 
of  the  great  number  of  emigrants  from  England,  the  church 
with  their  minister  left  Dorchester,  and  planted  themselves 
in  Windsor,  in  the  summer  of  1635.  This  town,  lying  imme- 
diately north  of  Hartford,  and  delightfully  situated  in  the  val- 
ley of  the  Connecticut,  originally  comprehended  a  very  large 
tract  of  land  on  both  sides  of  the  river,  and  is  distinguished 
for  the  fertility  of  its  soil,  and  the  beauty  of  its  scenery.  The 
inhabitants  constituted  one  parish  until  the  year  1694  ;  when 
those  residing  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  Connecticut,  "  finding 
it  inconvenient  to  cross  the  river,  and  being  grown  sufficient- 
ly numerous  to  support  public  worship  among  themselves, 
proceeded  to  build  a  church,  which  stood  near  to  the  present 
burying  ground,  and  invited  Mr.  Timothy  Edwards,  son  of 
Richard  Edwards,  Esquire,  of  Hartford,  to  be  their  minister. "f 
Mr.  Edwards  was  married,  on  the  6th  day  of  November, 
1694,  to  Esther  Stoddard,  the  second  child  of  the  Rev.  So- 
lomon Stoddard,  who  was  born  in  1672.  His  father,  imme- 
diately after  his  settlement,  purchased  for  him  a  farm  of  mo- 
derate extent,  and  built  him  a  house  which  was  regarded  at 
the  time  of  its  erection,  as  a  handsome  residence.  I  saw  it 
in  1803  ;  it  was  a  solid  substantial  house  of  moderate  dimen- 
sions, had  one  chimney  in  the  middle,  and  was  entered  like 
all  other  houses  of  that  period,  by  stepping  over  the  sill.  In 
this  house  his  children  were  born,  and  he  and  Mrs.  Edwards 
resided  during  their  lives.  They  had  one  son  and  ten  daugh- 
ters, whose  names  follow  in  the  order  of  their  births — Esther, 
Elizabeth,  Anne,  Mary,  Jonathan,  Eunice,  Abigail,  Jerusha, 
Hannah,  Lucy  and  Martha. f 

In  the  spring  of  1711,  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Buck- 

*Re  cords-of  East  Windsor,    t  Records  of  East  Windsor.    |.  See  Appendix  G. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  13 

ingham  of  Milford,  were  appointed  by  the  legislature  of  the 
colony,  the  chaplains  of  the  Connecticut  troops  in  a  military 
expedition,  designed  for  Canada.  He  left  Windsor  for  New- 
Haven  in  July.  A  fleet  consisting  of  twenty  men  of  war  and 
eighty  transports,  sailed  for  Canada  on  the  oOth  of  that  month. 
Three  companies  under  the  command  of  Lieut.  Col.  Livings- 
ton, marched  from  New-Haven  for  Albany  on  the  9th  of  Au- 
gust, with  whom  went  Mr.  Edwards  and  Mr.  Buckingham. 
The  country  through  which  their  march  lay,  was  at  that  time 
chiefly  uncleared  ;  and  the  troops  were  obliged  two  nights  to 
lie  out  in  the  forest.  They  reached  Albany  on  the  15th.  and 
found  there,  including  their  own  regiment,  about  1100  whites 
and  120  Indians.  The  following  letter,  addressed  to  Mrs. 
Edwards  from  Albany,  not  only  details  the  state  of  the  expe- 
dition, but  unfolds  the  character  of  the  writer,  and  the  cir- 
cumstances of  his  family. 

"  To  Mrs.  Esther  Edwards,   on  the  east  side  of  Connecticut 
River,  in  Windsor. 

^''Albany,  August  17,  1711. 

"  My  dear  and  loving  wife, 

"  The  last  Wednesday  we  came  to  this  place.  That  we 
might  not  travel  too  hard  for  the  footmen  of  our  troops,  (which 
consisted  but  of  half  the  regiment,  the  rest  not  marching  out 
of  New-Haven  when  we  did,)  we  spent  seven  days  in  the 
journey,  which  Col.  Livingston  judges  to  be  about  160  miles, 
and  I  am  apt  to  think  it  may  not  be  much  short  of  it.  I  lay 
with  our  troops  two  nights  in  the  woods.  I  took  cold  in  my 
journey,  and  have  something  of  a  cough,  and  am  otherwise 
not  much  amiss.  Notwithstanding  this,  I  am  able  to  travel, 
and  hope  I  shall  be  so  through  the  whole  journey.  Col.  Liv- 
ingston has  been  very  careful  of  me,  so  that  through  the  whole 
march,  both  as  to  diet  and  lodging,  I  fared  as  well  in  the  main 
as  himself.  The  rest  of  the  officers  and  the  troops  carry  them- 
selves as  well  to  me  as  I  can  expect  or  desire. 

"  Here  are  about  1100  white  men  (or  will  be,  at  least,  when 
the  rest  of  the  regiment  come  up,  whom  we  expect  to-night,} 
and  120  Indians,  beside  what  are  expected  of  the  Five  Na- 
tions, which  many  here  think  will  be  1600  or  1800  men,  but 
Col.  Schuyler  told  me  that  he  did  not  expect  more  than  1000. 
About  200  or  250  more  whites  are  expected ;  so  that  the  whole 
army  that  goes  to  Canada  is  like  to  be  about  2500  men  ;  to 
carry  whom  over  the  lake,  there  are  provided,  as  I  am  told 
here,  350  batteaux  and  40  or  50  bark  canoes.  The  Governor 
of  New-York  and  the  General  are  here.  The  general  is  in 
great  haste  to  have  the  forces  on  their  march ;  so  that  Col. 


14  lAlE    OF    PKESIDENT    ED\VARt)S. 

Schuyler's  regiment  was,  as  I  understand,  ordered  to  march 
out  of  town  yesterday;  but  as  I  slept  last  night,  and  stiil  am. 
on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  I  am  uncertain  whether  they  are 
yet  gone.  The  General  told  Col.  Livingston,  and  me  also  af- 
terwards, that  we  must  march  for  Wood  Creek  to-morrow, 
but  I  am  apt  to  think  we  shall  hardly  march  'till  Monday. 

"  Whether  I  shall  have  any  time  to  write  to  you  after  this 
I  know  not ;  but  however  that  may  be,  I  would  not  have  you 
discouraged  or  over  anxious  concerning  me,  f^r  I  am  not  so 
about  myself.  I  have  still  strong  hopes  of  seeing  thee  and 
our  dear  children  once  again.  I  cannot  but  hope  that  I  have 
had  the  gracious  presence  of  God  with  me  since  I  left  home, 
encouraging  and  strengthening  my  soul,  as  well  as  preserv- 
ing my  life.  I  have  been  much  cheered  and  refreshed  respect- 
ing this  great  undertaking,  in  which  I  verily  expect  to  proceed, 
and  that  I  shall,  before  many  weeks  are  at  an  end,  see  Cana- 
da; but  I  trust  in  the  Lord  that  he  will  have  mercy  on  me, 
and  thee,  my  dear,  and  all  our  dear  children,  and  that  God 
has  more  work  for  me  to  do  in  the  place  where  I  have  dwelt 
for  many  years,  and  that  you  and  I  shall  yet  live  together  on 
earth,  as  well  as  dwell  together  forever  in  heaven  with  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  all  his  saints ;  with  whom  to  be  is  best 
of  all. 

"  Remember  my  love  to  each  of  the  children,  to  Esther, 
Elizabeth,  Anne,  Mary,  Jonathan,  Eunice  and  Abigail.  The 
Lord  have  mercy  on  and  eternally  save  them  all,  with  our  dear 
little  Jerusha  !  The  Lord  bind  up  their  souls  with  thine  and 
mine  in  the  bundle  of  life.  Tell  the  children,  that  I  would 
have  them,  if  they  desire  to  see  their  father  again,  to  pray 
daily  for  me  in  secret ;  and  above  all  things  to  seek  the  grace 
and  favor  of  God  in  Christ,  and  that  while  they  are  young. 

"  I  would  have  you  very  careful  of  my  books  and  account 
of  rates.  I  sent  you  from  New-Haven  a  405  bill  in  a  letter 
by  Lieut.  Willis,  and  since  that,  ordered  the  Treasurer  to. de- 
liver to  my  father  six  pounds  more  for  you.  You  may  call  for 
it  or  send  for  it  by  some  sure  hand. 

"  Though  for  a  while  we  must  be  absent  from  each  other, 
yet  I  desire  that  we  may  often  meet  at  the  throne  of  grace  in 
our  earnest  prayers  one  for  another,  and  have  great  hopes  that 
God  will  hear  and  answer  our  prayers.  The  God  of  grace  be 
with  you.  I  am  thy  loving  husband, 

Timothy  Edwards." 

On  Monday,  ilugust  20th,  they  marched  for  Wood  Creek. 
At  Saratoga,  in  consequence  of  the  fatigues  and  exposure  of 
the  march,  Mr.  Edwards  was  taken  severely  ill.  On  the  4th 
of  September,  being  unable  to  proceed  with  the  army,  he  was 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  16 

conveyed  in  a  boat  to  Stillwater.  Thence  he  was  carried 
back  through  the  woods  to  Albany,  where  he  arrived  in  three 
days  in  a  state  of  extreme  danger.  On  the  10th  he  wrote  to 
Mrs.  Edwards  as  follows. 

"To  Mrs.  Esther  Edwards  in  Windsor,  N.  England. 

''Albany,  Sept.  lOth,  1711. 

"  My  Dear, 

"  I  came  last  Tuesday  from  Saratoga  towards  Albany,  very 
ill,  in  order  to  return  home ;  having  been  ill  more  than  a 
month,  and  growing  at  last  so  weak  that  I  could  go  no  farther 
than  that  place,  which  is  near  fifty  miles  above  Albany.  I 
came  to  Albany  in  a  waggon,  lying  along  in  a  bed  prepared 
for  me,  last  Thursday  night.  Since  then  I  have  been  at  the 
house  of  Madc.m  Vandyke,  a  Dutch  gentlewoman,  where  I 
have  been  so  kindly  taken  care  of,  that  I  am  much  better, 
and  daily  gain  strength,  and  my  lost  appetite  is  somewhat  re- 
covered.    I  hope  to  be  able  to  ride  homeward  next  week. 

"  Last  Friday  I  sent  Mr  Hezekiah  Mason  to  N.  England,  to 
acquaint  my  father  and  my  friends  at  Windsor  how  it  is  with 
me,  and  to  desire  three  or  four  of  them  to  come  hither  and  to 
bring  an  easy  horse  with  them  for  me  to  ride  upon,  and  to 
come  provided  to  carry  home  my  effects,  and  to  bring  a  blank- 
et or  two  with  them  in  case  we  should  be  forced  to  sleep  in 
the  woods.  I  should  have  written  by  him,  but  w^as  too  ill  to 
do  it.  This  is  the  first  day  I  have  been  able  to  sit  up.  If  the 
neighbors  have  not  started  when  you  receive  this,  speak  to 
Mr.  Drake  that  they  set  out  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  I  rejoice  to  learn,  by  a  letter  from  my  father,  that  you 
were  all  well  on  the  2d,  and  hope  in  the  mercy  of  God  to  see 
you  all  ere  long. 

"  Lieut.  Silvy,  sent  over  by  the  Q,ueen  to  serve  in  this  ex- 
pedition, a  stout,  active  young  man,  who  came  sick  with  me 
in  another  waggon  from  the  camp  to  Albany,  died  this  even- 
ing just  by  my  lodgings.  We  came  together  from  the  camp 
sick,  we  lay  together  in  one  room  by  the  way  sick,  we  lodged 
just  by  one  another  several  days  in  this  town  sick— but  he  is 
dead,  and  T  am  alive  and  recovering.  Blessed  be  God  for  his 
distinguishing  and  undeserved  grace  and  favor  to  me  !  Re- 
member my  love  to  all  the  children.  Give  my  resi  ects  to 
Mr.  Colton,  who,  I  understand,  stays  with  you.  I  wish  you 
to  provide  something  for  my  cough,  which  is  the  worst  I  ever 
had  in  my  life  Remember  my  love  to  sister  Staughton  and 
my  duty  to  my  father  and  mother,  if  you  have  opportunity. 
"  I  am  your  very  affectionately  loving  husband, 

Timothy  Edwards." 


IG  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Owing  to  the  lateness  of  the  season  and  to  numerous  disap- 
pointments, the  expedition  was  soon  after  relmquished ;  and 
in  the  course  of  the  month  Mr.  Edwards  returned  home. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards  lived  together  in  the  married  state 
upwards  of  sixty-three  years.  Mr.  Edwards  was  about  five 
feet  ten  inches  in  height;  of  a  fair  complexion;  of  a  strong, 
robust  frame  ;  full,  but  not  corpulent.  He  was  a  man  of  po- 
lished manners,  particularly  attentive  to  his  dress,  and  to  pro- 
priety of  exterior  :  never  appearing  in  public  but  in  the  full 
dress  of  a  clergyman. 

The  management  not  only  of  his  domestic  concerns,  but  of 
his  property  generally,  was  entrusted  to  the  care  of  Mrs.  Ed- 
wards, who  discharged  the  duties  of  a  wife  and  a  mother  with 
singular  fidelity  and  success.  In  strength  of  character  she 
resembled  her  father ;  and  like  him  she  left  behind  her,  in 
the  place  where  she  resided  for  seventy-six  years,  that  "good 
name,  which  is  better  than  precious  ointment."  On  a  visit 
to  East  Windsor,  in  the  summer  of  1823, 1  found  a  considera- 
ble number  of  persons  advanced  in  years,  who  had  been  well 
acquainted  with  Mrs.  Edwards,  and  two  upwards  of  ninety, 
who  had  been  pupils  of  her  husband.  From  them  I  learned 
that  she  received  a  superior  education  in  Boston,  was  tall, 
dignified  and  commanding  in  her  appearance,  affable  and 
gentle  in  her  manners,  and  was  regarded  as  surpassing  her 
husband  in  native  vigor  of  understandhig.  They  all  united 
in  speaking  of  her  as  possessed  of  remarkable  judgment  and 
prudence,  of  an  exact  sense  of  propriety,  of  extensive  infor- 
mation, of  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  scriptures  and  of  the- 
ology, and  of  singular  conscientiousness,  piety  and  excellence 
of  character.  By  her  careful  attention  to  all  his  domestic 
concerns,  her  husband  was  left  at  full  liberty  to  devote  him- 
self to  the  proper  duties  of  his  profession.  Like  many  of  the 
clergy  of  that  early  period  in  New-England,  he  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  Hebrew  literature,  and  was  regarded  as  a  man 
of  more  than  usual  learning  ;  but  was  particularly  distinguish- 
ed for  his  accurate  knowledge  of  the  Greek  and  Roman  clas- 
sics. In  addition  to  his  other  duties,  he  annually  prepared  a 
number  of  pupils  for  college ;  there  being  at  that  time  no 
academies  or  public  schools  endowed  for  this  purpose.  One 
of  my  aged  informants,  who  pursued  his  preparatory  studies 
under  him,  told  me,  that  on  his  admission  to  college,  when  the 
officers  had  learned  with  whom  he  had  studied,  they  remark- 
ed to  him,  that  there  was  no  need  of  examining  Mr.  Edwards' 
scholars. 

He  was,  for  that  period,  unusually  liberal  and  enlightened, 
with  regard  to  the  education  of  his  children — preparing  not 
only  his  son,  but  each  of  his  daughters  also,  for  college.     In 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  17 

n  letter,  bearing  date  Aug.  3,  1711,  while  absent  on  the  ex- 
pedition to  Canada,  he  wishes  that  Jonathan  and  the  girls  may 
continue  to  prosecute  the  study  of  Latin  ;  and  in  another  of 
Aug.  7,  that  he  may  continue  to  recite  his  Latin  to  his  elder 
sisters.  When  his  daughters  were  of  the  proper  age,  he  sent 
them  to  Boston  to  finish  their  education.  Both  he  and  Mrs. 
Edwards  were  exemplary  in  their  care  of  their  religious  instruc- 
tion ;  and,  as  the  reward  of  their  parental  fidelity,  were  per- 
mitted to  see  the  fruits  of  piety  m  them  all  during  their  youth. 

He  always  preached  extemporaneously,  and,  until  he  was 
upwards  of  seventy,  without  noting  down  the  heads  of  his  dis- 
course. After  that  time,  he  commonly  wrote  the  divisions  on 
small  slips  of  paper ;  which,  as  they  occasionally  appeared 
beyond  the  leaves  of  the  Bible,  that  he  held  in  his  hand,  his 
parishioners  called,  "  Mr.  Edwards'  thumb  papers."  Apolo- 
gizing for  this  one  day  to  one  of  his  pupils,  he  remarked  to 
him,  that  he  found  his  memory  beginning  to  fail,  but  that  he 
thought  his  judgment  as  sound  as  ever ;  and  this  was  likewise 
the  opinion  of  his  people  till  near  the  close  of  his  life.  He  is 
not  known  to  have  written  out  but  a  single  sermon  ;  which 
was  preached  at  the  General  Election,  in  1732,  and  was  pub- 
lished. It  is  a  solemn  and  faithful  application  of  the  doctrine 
of  a  general  judgment  to  his  hearers,  particularly  as  legisla- 
tors and  magistrates.  As  he  lived  till  within  a  few  months 
of  his  son's  decease,  the  latter  often  visited  his  father  and 
preached  in  his  desk.  It  was  the  customary  remark  of 
the  people,  that  "  although  Mr.  Edwards  was  perhaps  the 
more  learned  man,  and  more  animated  in  his  manner,  yet  Mr. 
Jonathan  was  the  deeper  preacher." 

His  influence  over  his  congregation  was  commanding,  and 
was  steadily  exerted  on  the  side  of  truth  and  righteousness. 
When  he  knew  of  any  division  among  them,  he  went  imme- 
diately to  see  that  the  parties  were  reconciled  ;  and  when  he 
heard  of  any  improper  conduct  on  the  part  of  any  individuals, 
it  was  his  uniform  custom  to  go  and  reprove  them.  Under 
his  preaching,  the  gospel  was  attended  with  a  regular,  uni- 
form eflicacy,  and  in  frequent  instances,  with  revivals  of  reli- 
gion ;  yet  no  record  is  preserved  of  the  actual  admissions  to 
the  church.  From  some  of  the  family  letters,  I  find  inciden- 
tal mention  of  a  revival  of  religion,  as  existing  in  1715  and 
1716 ;  during  which  Mrs.  Edwards,  and  two  of  her  daughters, 
made  a  profession  of  their  christian  faith  ;  and  several  others 
of  the  family  are  spoken  of,  as  "  travelling  towards  Zion  with 
their  faces  thitherward."  His  son  observes,  in  1737,  that  he 
had  known  of  no  parish  in  the  west  of  New-England,  except 
Northampton,  which  had  as  often  been  favoured  with  revivals 
ef  religion,  as  that  of  his  father. 

Vol.  I.  3 


18  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

During  the  whole  of  his  ministry,  he  was  regarded  by  his 
people  with  great  respect  and  affection  :  no  symptoms  of  dis- 
satisfaction having  been  manifested  by  them  for  sixty-three 
years.  In  the  summer  of  1752,  on  account  of  his  increas'ng 
infirmities  he  proposed  to  them  the  settlement  of  a  colleague  ; 
and  they  actually  settled  one,  the  Pvev.  Joseph  Perry,  June 
11th,  1755;  but  continued  his  salary  until  his  death,  which 
took  place  Jan.  27,  175S,  when  he  was  eighty-nine  years  of 
age. 

Mrs.  Edwards  survived  him  twelve  years  :  her  fourth  daugh- 
ter, Mary,  residing  with  her  and  watching  over  the  infirmities 
of  age.  From  a  lady  in  East  Windsor  far  advanced  in  life,  I 
learned  the  following  facts.  Mrs.  Edwards  was  always  fond 
of  books,  and  discovered  a  very  extensive  acquaintance  with 
them  in  her  conversation ;  particularly  with  the  best  theolo- 
gical writers.  After  the  death  of  her  husband,  her  family  be- 
ing small,  a  large  portion  of  her  time  was  devoted  to  reading. 
A  table  always  stood  in  the  middle  of  iier  parlor,  on  which  lay 
a  large  quarto  bible,  and  treatises  on  doctrinal  and  experi- 
mental religion.  In  the  afternoon,  at  a  stated  h<^ur,  such  of 
the  ladies  of  the  neighbourhood,  as  found  it  convenient,  went 
customarily  to  her  house,  accompanied  not  unfrequently  by 
their  children.  Her  daughter  regularly  read  a  chapter  of  the 
Bible,  and  then  a  passage  from  some  religious  author ;  but 
was  often  stopped  by  the  comments  and  remarks  of  her  moth- 
er, who  always  closed  the  interview  with  prayer.  On  these 
occasions,  it  was  a  favorite  point  with  the  neighbouring  fe- 
males, even  with  those  who  were  young,  to  be  present ;  all 
of  them  regularly  attending  when  they  were  able,  and  many 
of  them,  among  whom  was  my  informant,  dating  their  first 
permanent  attention  to  religion  from  the  impre^^sions  here 
made.  In  this  way  she  was  regarded  with  a  respect  border- 
ing on  veneration,  and  was  often  spoken  of  by  Mr.  Perry,  as 
one  of  his  most  efficient  auxiliaries.  She  died  Jan.  19,  1770, 
n  the  99lh  year  of  her  age.  retaining  her  mental  faculties  un- 
til the  close  of  her  life.  Her  daughter  Mary,  "  spent  many 
years  of  her  early  life  at  Northampton  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stod- 
dard ;  and  returning  thence  to  her  father's  house,  she  was  the 
nurse  and  attendant,  and  I  may  almost  say,  support  of  her 
aged  parents.  She  was  a  woman  of  most  amiable  disposi- 
tion, fine  understanding,  and  uncommon  attainments,  had 
read  much  and  appeared  to  have  made  the  best  improvement 
of  the  knowledge  that  she  obtained."^  She  survived  her 
mother,  six  years. 


^  From  tlie  letter  of  an  excellent  lady  in  Middletown,  in  whose  family  she 
f  e^de(i  several  years. 


CHAPTER   II. 

His  Birth  and  Education. — Earliest  Productions  of  his  Pen. 

Jonathan  Edwards,  the  subject  of  the  present  memoir, 
was  the  fifth  child  of  Timothy  and  Esther  Edwards.  He  was 
born  in  the  east  parish  of  Windsor,  now  East-Windsor,  on  the 
banks  of  the  Connecticut,  on  the  5th  day  of  October,  1703. 

Owing  to  the  intellectual  and  moral  culture  of  his  parents, 
his  education  may  be  regarded  as  having  been  begun  in  in- 
fancy, and  as  having  been,  in  all  respects,  of  the  best  and 
happiest  character.  The  government  of  their  family,  at 
once  strict  and  affectionate,  formed  him  to  early  habits  of 
obedience  and  sobriety,  and  saved  him  from  those  "evil 
communications,"  which  too  often  lead  to  follies  and  excesses 
in  childhood  and  youth.  The  refinement  of  manners  and  of 
character,  which  he  witnessed  in  them  and  in  their  friends,  pre- 
pared his  own  mind  from  his  earliest  years,  to  withdraw  from 
every  thing  low  and  grovelling,  and  to  find  a  high  enjoyment 
in  all  the  varieties  of  intellectual  and  moral  beauty.  Their 
own  minds,  enlightened  by  knowledge,  taught  his  from  the 
first,  to  open  and  expand  by  an  acquaintance  with  all  the  ob- 
jects of  contemplation  within  its  reach.  Their  faithful  reli- 
gious instructions  rendered  him,  when  a  child,  familiarly  con- 
versant with  God  and  with  Christ,  with  his  own  character  and 
duties,  with  the  way  of  salvation  and  with  the  nature  of  that 
eternal  life,  which,  begun  on  earth,  is  perfected  in  heaven. 
In  their  example  of  consistent  and  devoted  piety,  he  saw  them 
walking  daily  before  him,  in  the  only  path  which  conducts  to 
that  world  of  life.  While  their  prayers,  commencing  with  his 
existence,  and  offered  up  with  deep  humility  and  prevailing 
faith,  secured  for  him,  at  an  early  period  of  life,  the  peculiar 
blessing  of  God. 

In  the  progress  of  childhood,  in  consequence  of  the  faith- 
ful instructions  and  prayers  cf  his  parents,  he  was  in  several 
instances  the  subject  of  strong  religious  impressions.  This 
was  particularly  true,  some  years  before  he  went  to  college, 
during  a  powerful  revival  of  religion  in  his  father's  congre- 
gation He,  and  two  other  lads  of  his  own  age,  who  had  the 
same  feelings  with  himself,  erected  a  booth,  in  a  very  retired 
spot  in  a  swamp,  for  an  oratory,  and  resorted  to  it  regularly  for 


20  LItE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

social  prayer.  This  continued  for  a  long  period  ;  but  the  inv- 
pressions  ultimately  disappeared,  and  in  his  own  view,  were 
followed  by  no  permanent  effects  of  a  salutary  nature.* 

He  commenced  the  study  of  the  Latin,  when  six  years  of 
age,  under  the  care  of  his  father,  and  occasionally  that  of  his 
elder  sisters.  No  account  is  preserved  of  his  progress  in  his 
studies,  at  that  early  period,  but  his  high  standing  as  a  scho- 
lar, on  his  admission  to  college  as  w^ell  as  afterwards,  and  his 
thorough  knowledge  of  the  Latin,  Greek  and  Hebrew,  prove 
at  once,  his  own  diligence  as  a  student  at  this  time,  and  the 
accuracy  and  fidelity  of  his  parent's  instructions. 

From  the  manuscripts  which  have  fallen  into  my  hands,  I 
conclude  that  his  father's  family  were  fond  of  the  use  of  the 
pen,  and  that  he  and  his  sisters  were  very  early  encouraged  by 
their  parents  to  make  attempts,  not  only  in  letter  writing,  but 
in  other  species  of  composition.  This  course,  though  rarely 
pursued  with  children,  is  eminently  advantageous  ;  and  in  the 
case  before  us,  w  as  obviously  followed  by  the  best  results- 
While  it  increased  the  mutual  affection  of  the  brother  and 
the  sisters,  it  also  served  to  strengthen  their  minds,  and  to 
impart  exactness  both  of  thought  and  expression.  The 
earliest  effort  of  his  pen,  which  I  have  met  with,  appears 
to  have  been  written  on  the  following  occasion.  Some  one 
in  the  vicinity,  probably  an  older  boy  than  himself,  had  ad- 
vanced the  opinion,  either  in  writing  or  in  conversation,  that 
the  soul  was  material,  and  remaiiied  ivith  the  body  till  the 
resurrection;  and  had  endeavored  to  convince  him  of  its  cor- 
rectness. Struck  w^ith  the  absurdity  of  the  notion,  he  sat 
dow^n  and  wrote  the  following  reply  ;  which,  as  a  specimen 
both  of  wit  and  reasoning  in  a  child,  may  fairly  claim  to  be 
preserved.  It  is  without  date,  and  without  pointing,  or  any 
division  into  sentences ;  and  has  every  appearance  of  having 
been  written  by  a  boy  just  after  he  had  learned  to  WTite.f 

"  I  am  informed  that  you  have  advanced  a  notion,  that  the 
soul  is  material,  and  attends  the  body  till  the  resurrection ; 
as  I  am  a  professed  lover  of  novelty,  you  must  imagine  I  am 
very  much  entertained  by  this  discovery  ;  (wiiich  however  old 
in  some  parts  of  the  world,  is  new  to  us;)  but  suffer  my  curi- 
osity a  little  further.  I  would  know  the  manner  of  the  king- 
dom, before  I  swear  allegiance.  1st.  I  would  know  whether 
this  material  soul  keeps  with  [the  body]  in  the  coffin  ;  and,  if 
so,  whether  it  might  not  be  convenient  to  build  a  repository 

*  His  own  account  of  this  subject  will  be  found  on  a  subsequent  pag-e. 

t  From  the  hand,  the  spelling,  and  the  want  of  separation  into  sentences,! 
cannot  doubt  that  it  was  written  at  least  one  year  and  probably  two,  earlier 
than  the  letter  which,  follows. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  21 

for  it ;  in  order  to  which,  I  would  know  what  shape  it  is  of, 
whether  round,  triangular  or  four  square  ;  or  whether  it  is 
a  number  of  long  fine  strings  reaching  from  the  head  to  the 
foot^  and  whether  it  does  not  live  a  very  discontented  life.  I 
am  afraid  when  the  coffin  gives  way,  the  earth  will  fall  in  and 
crush  it;  but  if  it  should  choose  to  live  above  ground,  and 
hover  about  the  grave,  how  big  it  is ; — whether  it  covers  all 
the  body,  or  is  assigned  to  the  head,  or  breast,  or  liow.  If  it 
covers  all  the  body,  what  it  does  when  another  body  is  laid 
upon  it :  whether  the  first  gives  way ;  and,  if  so,  where  is  the 
place  of  retreat.  But  suppose  that  souls  are  not  so  big  but 
that  ten  or  a  dozen  of  them  may  be  aboui  one  body  ;  whether 
they  will  not  quarrel  for  the  highest  place  ;  and,  as  I  insist 
much  upon  my  honor  and  property,  I  would  know  whether  I 
must  quit  my  dear  head,  if  a  superior  soul  comes  in  the  way; 
but  above  all  I  am  concerned  to  know  what  they  do,  where  a 
burying  place  has  been  filled  twenty,  thirty,  or  an  hundred 
times.  If  they  are  a  top  of  one  another,  the  uppermost  will 
be  so  far  off,  that  it  can  take  no  care  of  the  body.  I  strongly 
suspect  they  must  march  off  every  time  there  comes  a  new 
set.  I  hope  there  is  some  other  place  provided  for  them  but 
dust.  The  undergoing  so  much  hardship,  and  being  depriv- 
ed of  the  body  at  last  will  make  them  ill  tempered.  1  leave 
it  with  your  physical  genius  to  deteimine,  whether  some  me- 
dicinal applications  might  not  be  proper  in  such  cases,  and 
subscribe  your  proselyte,  when  I  can  have  solutioif  of  these 
matters." 

The  following  letter  to  one  of  his  sisters,  written  at  twelve 
years  of  age  is  the  earliest  dated  effort  of  his  pen  which  I  have 
discovered. 

"  To  Miss  Mary  Edwards,  at  Hadley, 

«  Windsor,  May  10,  1716. 

•*  Dear  Sister, 

"  Through  the  wonderful  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  there 
has  been  in  this  place  a  very  remarkable  outpouring  of  the 
Spirit  of  God.  It  still  continues,  but  I  think  I  have  reason  to 
think  is  in  some  measure  diminished ;  yet  I  hope  not  much. 
Three  have  joined  the  church  since  you  last  heard,  five  now 
stand  propounded  for  admission ;  and  I  think  above  thirty 
persons  come  commonly  a  Mondays  to  converse  with  father 
about  the  condition  of  their  souls.  It  is  a  time  of  general 
health  here.  Abigail,  Hannah  and  Lucy  have  had  the  chick- 
en pox,  and  are  recovered.  Jerusha  is  almost  well.  Except 
hery  the  whole  family  is  well. 

"  Sister,  I  am  glad  to  hear  of  your  welfare  so  often  as  I  do. 


22  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

I  should  be  glad  to  hear  from  you  by  letter,  and  therein  how 
it  is  with  you  as  to  your  crookedness. 
"  Your  loving  brother, 

"Jonathan  E." 

He  was  educated,  until  he  entered  college,  at  home,  and 
under  his  father's  personal  instruction;  while  his  older  sisters 
were  daily  pursuing  their  respective  branches  of  study  in  his 
immediate  presence.  Their  father,  having  been  distinguish- 
ed as  a  scholar,  was  able  to  give  them,  and  as  we  have  seen, 
actually  gave  them,  a  superior  education.  In  all  their  vari- 
ous pursuits,  the  mind  of  their  brother,  as  it  opened,  would 
of  course  be  more  and  more  interested;  and- thus  at  length 
he  would  easily  and  msensibly  acquire  a  mass  of  information 
far  beyond  his  years.  The  course  of  his  education  may  in  this 
way  have  been  less  systematic,  indeed,  and  less  conformed  to 
rulp",  than  that  ordinarily  given  in  the  school.  At  the  same 
time  it  was  more  safe  ;  forming  him  to  softer  manners,  gent- 
ler feelings  and  purer  affections,  [n  his  circumstances,  also, 
it  was  obviously  more  comprehensive  and  universal ;  and, 
while  it  brought  him  acquainted  with  many  things  which  are 
not  usually  communicated  until  a  later  period,  it  also  served 
to  unfold  the  original  traits  of  his  mind,  and  to  give  it  that 
expansion,  which  is  the  result  of  information  alone. 

One  characteristic,  of  which  he  has  not  generally  been 
suspected,  but  which  he  possessed  in  an  unusual  degree,  was 
a  fondness,  minutely  and  critically  to  investigate  the  works 
of  nature.  This  propensity  was  not  only  discovered  in  youth 
and  manhood,  but  was  fully  developed  in  childhood,  and  at 
that  early  period  was  encouraged  and  cherished  by  the  foster- 
ing hand  of  parental  care.  This  will  be  obvious  from  the  two 
subsequent  productions  of  his  pen,  which  were  written  on  the 
following  occasion.  His  father  had  some  correspondent  of 
distinction,  to  whom  in  the  course  of  his  letters,  he  had  given 
an  account,  of  an  interesting  natural  curiosity.  This  gentle- 
man, who  probably  resided  in  England,*  in  the  postscript  of 
his  reply  expressed  a  desire,  that  he  would  favor  him  with  any 
other  information  that  he  might  possess  of  a  similar  kind.  The 
son  had  not  long  before  been  busily  engaged  in  observing, 
with  deep  interest  and  with  a  philosophic  eye,  the  wonder- 
ful movements  and  singular  skill  of  that  species  of  Spider 
which  inhabits  the  forest ;  and  having  written  down  his  own 


*  No  trace  of  the  name  or  residence  of  the  correspondent  is  preserved  in  the 
papers ;  but  from  the  care  taken  by  the  son  to  inform  him  that  the  sea  lay  on 
the  east  of  New-England,  he  probably  did  not  reside  in  this,  but  in  the  mother 
country. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  23 

observations,  had  doubtless  read  them  in  the  hearing  of  the 
family.  Tiie  father,  gratified  with  this  discovery  of  his  son's 
talents  and  power  of  observation,  and  pleased  with  this  early 
effort  of  his  pen,  encouraged  him  to  turn  it  into  the  form  c^f  sl 
letter,  and  to  send  it  to  his  correspondent,  in  his  own  name, 
with  an  apology  of  his  own.  The  apology  and  the  account, 
which  are  copied  from  his  own  rough  draught  of  both,  in  his 
earliest  hand,  after  he  had  corrected  the  language  of  each 
with  very  great  care,  are  contained  in  the  two  following  let- 
ters:  both  of  which,  as  left  in  the  rough  draught,  are  without 
the  date,  and  the  name  of  the  correspondent,  a/id  the  latter, 
though  in  the  form  of  a  letter,  has  not  the  customary  form  of 
conclusion. 

"  May  it  please  your  Honour, 

"In  the  postscript  of  your  letter  to  my  father,  you  manifest 
a  willingness  to  receive  any  thing  else  that  he  has  observed 
worthy  of  remark,  respecting  the  wonders  of  nature.  What 
there  is  an  account  of  in  the  following  lines,  is  by  him  thought 
to  be  such.  He  has  laid  it  upon  me  to  write  the  account,  I 
having  had  advantage  to  make  more  full  observations  than 
himself.  Forgive  me  that  I  do  not  conceal  my  name,  and 
communicate  this  to  you  through  a  mediator.  I  do  not  state 
it  as  an  hypothesis,  but  as  a  plain  fact,  which  my  own  eyes 
have  witnessed,  and  which  every  one's  senses  may  make  him 
as  certain  of  as  of  any  thing  else.  Although  these  things  ap- 
pear to  me  thus  certain,  still  I  submit  the  whole  to  your  bet- 
ter judgment  and  deeper  insight.  And  I  humbly  beg  to  be 
pardoned  for  running  the  venture,  though  an  utter  stranger, 
of  troubling  you  with  so  prolix  an  account  of  that,  which  I 
am  altogether  uncertain,  whether  you  will  esteem  worthy  of 
the  time  and  pains  of  reading.  If  you  think  the  observations 
childish,  and  beside  the  rules  of  decorum, — with  greatness  and 
goodness  overlook  it  in  a  child.  Pardon  me,  if  I  thought  it 
might  at  least  give  you  occasion  to  make  better  observations, 
such  as  should  be  worthy  of  communicating  to  the  learned 
world,  respecting  these  wondrous  animals,  from  whose  glisten- 
ing web  so  much  of  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator  shines. 
"  I  am,  Sir, 

"  Your  most  obedient,  humble  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

"  May  it  j)l^cise  your  Honour, 

"  There  are  some  things  that  I  have  happily  seen  of  the 
wondrous  way  of  the  working  of  the  spider.  Although  every 
thing  belonging  to  this  insect  is  admirable,  there  are  some 
phenomena   relating  to  them  more  particularly   wonderful. 


24  LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Every  body  that  is  used  to  the  country,  knows  their  marching 
in  the  air  from  one  tree  to  another,  sometimes  at  the  distance 
of  five  or  six  rods.  Nor  can  one  go  out  in  a  dewy  morning, 
at  the  latter  end  of  August  and  the  beginning  of  September, 
but  he  ^ihall  see  multitudes  of  webs,  made  visible  by  the  dew 
that  hangs  on  them,  reaching  from  one  tree,  branch  and  shrub, 
to  another :  w^hich  webs  are  commonly  thought  to  be  made 
in  the  night,  because  they  appear  only  in  the  morning  ; 
whe»eas  none  of  them  are  made  in  the  night,  for  these  spiders 
never  come  out  in  the  night  when  it  is  dark,  as  the  dew  is 
then  falling.  But  these  webs  may  be  seen  well  enough  in 
the  day  time  by  an  observing  eye,  by  their  reflection  in  the 
sun- beams.  Especially  late  in  the  afternoon,  may  these  webs, 
that  are  between  the  eye  and  that  part  of  the  horizon  that  is 
undf;r  the  sun,  be  seen  very  plainly,  being  advantageously  po- 
sited to  reflect  the  rays.  And  the  spiders  themselves  may  be 
very  often  seen  travelling  in  the  air,  from  one  stage  to  anoth- 
er amongst  the  trees,  in  a  very  unaccountable  manner.  But 
I  have  often  seen  that,  which  is  much  more  astonishing.  In 
very  calm  and  serene  days  in  the  forementioned  time  of  year, 
standing  at  some  distance  behind  the  end  of  an  house  or  some 
other  opake  body,  so  as  just  to  hide  the  disk  of  the  sun  and 
keep  off  his  dazzling  rays,  and  looking  along  close  by  the  side 
of  it,  I  have  seen  a  vast  multitude  of  little  shining  webs,  and 
glistening  strings,  brightly  reflecting  the  sunbeams,  and  some 
of  them  of  great  length,  and  of  such  a  height,  that  one  would 
think  they  were  tacked  to  the  vault  of  the  heavens,  and  would 
be  burnt  like  tow  in  the  sun,  and  make  a  very  beautiful,  pleas- 
ing, as  well  as  surprising  appearance.  It  is  wonderful  at 
what  a  distance,  these  webs  may  plainly  be  seen.  Some  that 
are  at  a  great  distance  appear  (it  cannot  be  less  than)  several 
thousand  times  as  big  as  they  ought.  I  believe  they  appear 
under  as  great  an  angle,  as  a  body  of  a  foot  diameter  ought 
to  do  at  such  a  distance  ;  so  greatly  doth  brightness  increase 
the  apparent  bigness  of  bodies  at  a  distance,  as  is  observed  of 
the  fixed  stars. 

"  But  that  which  is  most  astonishing,  is,  that  very  often  ap- 
pears at  the  end  of  these  webs,  spiders  sailing  in  the  air  with 
them  ;  which  I  have  often  beheld  with  wonderment  and  plea- 
sure, and  show^ed  to  others.  And  since  I  have  seen  these 
things,  I  have  been  very  conversant  with  spiders ;  resolving 
if  possible,  to  find  out  the  mysteries  of  these  their  astonishing 
works.  And  I  have  been  so  happy  as  very  frequently  to  see 
their  manner  of  working ;  that  when  a  spider  would  go  from 
one  tree  to  another,  or  would  fly  in  the  air,  he  first  lets  him- 
self down  a  little  way  from  the  twig  he  stands  on  by  a  web,  as 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


26 


ill  Fig.  1 ;  and  then,  laying  hold  of  it 
by  his  fore  feet,  and  bearing  himself 
by  that,  puts  out  a  web,  as  in  Fig.  2, 
which  is  drawn  out  of  his  tail  with 
infinite  ease,  in  the  gently  moving 
air,  to  what  length  the  spider  pleases; 
and  if  the  farther  end  happens  to 
catch  by  a  shrub  or  the  branch  of  a 
tree,  the  spider  immediately  feels  it, 
and  fixes  the  hither  end  of  it  to  the 
web  by  which  he  let  himself  down, 
and  goes  over  by  that  web  which  he 
put  out  of  his  tail  as  in  Fig.  3.  And 
this,  my  eyes  have  innumerable  times 
made  me  sure  of. 

"  Now,  Sir,  it  is  certain  that  these  webs,  when  they  first  pro- 
ceed from  the  spider,  are  so  rare  a  substance,  that  they  are 
lighter  than  the  air,  because  they  will  ascend  in  it,  as  they 
will  immediately  in  a  calm  air,  and  never  descend  except  dri- 
ven by  a  wind  ;  wherefore  'tis  certain.  And  'tis  as  certain, 
that  what  swims  and  ascends  in  the  air  is  lighter  than  the  air, 
as  that  what  ascends  and  swims  in  water  is  lighter  than  water. 
So  that  if  we  should  suppose  any  such  time,  wherein  the  air 
is  perfectly  calm,  this  web  is  so  easily  drawn  out  of  the  spi- 
der's tail,  that  if  the  end  of  it  be  once  out,  barely  the  levity 
of  it  is  sufficient  to  draw  it  out  to  any  length  ;  wherefore  if  it 
don't  happen  that  the  end  of  this  web,  b  c,  catches  by  a  tree 
or  some  other  body,  'till  there  is  so  long  a  web  drawn  out,  that 
its  levity  shall  be  so  great  as  more  than  to  counterbalance  the 
gravity  of  the  spider,  or  so  that  the  web  and  the  spider^  taken 
together,  shall  be  lighter  than  such  a  quantity  of  air  as  takes 
up  equal  space,  then  according  to  the  universally  acknow- 
ledged laws  of  nature,  the  web  and  the  spider  together  will 
ascend,  and  not  descend,  in  the  air :  as  when  a  man  is  at  the 
bottom  of  the  water,  if  he  has  hold  of  a  piece  of  timber  so 
great,  that  the  wood's  tendency  upwards  is  greater  than  the 
man's  tendency  downwards,  he  together  with  the  wood  will 
ascend  to  the  surface  of  the  water.  And  therefore,  when  the 
spider  perceives  that  the  web  &  c  is  long  enough  to  bear  him 
up  by  its  ascending  force,  he  lets  go  his  hold  of  the  web  a  b, 
Fig  3,  and  ascends  in  the  air  with  the  web  b  c.  If  there  be 
not  web  more  than  enough,  just  to  counterbalance  the  gravity 
of  the  spider,  the  spider  together  with  the  web  will  hang  in 
equilibrio,  neither  ascending  nor  descending,  otherwise  than 
as  the  air  moves.  But  if  there  is  so  much  web,  that  its  greater 
levity  shall  more  than  equal  the  greater  density  of  the  spider, 
they  will  ascend  till  the  air  is  so  thin,  that  the  spider  and  web 

Vol.  I.  4 


2(5  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

together  are  just  of  an  equal  weight  with  so  much  air.  And 
in  this  way,  Sir,  I  liave  multitudes  of  times  seen  spiders  mount 
away  into  the  air,  from  a  stick  in  my  hands,  with  a  vast  train 
of  this  silver  web  before  them;  for,  if  the  spider  be  disturbed 
upon  the  stick  by  shaking  of  it,  he  will  presently  in  this  man- 
ner leave  it.  And  their  way  of  working  may  very  distinctly 
be  seen,  if  they  are  held  up  in  the  sun,  or  against  a  dark  door, 
or  any  thing  that  is  black. 

"  Now%  Sir,  the  only  remaining  difficulty  is,  how  they  first  put 
out  the  end  of  the  web  b  c,  Fig.  3.  out  of  their  tails.  If  once 
the  web  is  out,  it  is  easy  to  conceive  how  the  levity  of  it,  to- 
gether with  the  motion  of  the  air,  may  draw  it  out  to  a  great 
len  jth.  But  how  should  they  first  let  out  of  their  tails,  the 
end  of  so  fine  and  even  a  string;  seeing  that  the  web,  while  it 
is  in  the  spider,  is  a  certain  cloudy  liquor,  with  which  that 
great  bottle  tail  of  theirs  is  filled  ;  which  immediately,  upon 
its  beinfj  exposed  to  the  air,  turns  to  a  dry  substance,  and  ex- 
ceedingly rarifies  and  extends  itself.  Now  if  it  be  a  liquor, 
it  is  hard  to  concei\e  how  they  should  let  out  a  fine  even 
thread,  without  expelling  a  little  drop  at  the  end  of  it;  but 
none  such  can  be  discerned.  But  there  is  no  need  of  this ; 
for  it  is  only  separating  that  part  of  the  web  6  c.  Fig  2  from 
a  6,  and  the  end  of  the  web  is  already  out.  Indeed,  Sir,  I 
never  could  distinctly  see  them  do  this  :  so  small  a  piece  of 
web  being  imperceptible  among  the  spider's  legs.  But  I  can- 
not doubt  but  that  it  is  so,  because  there  is  a  necessity  that 
they  should  some  way  or  other  separate  the  web  a  b.  Fig.  3, 
from  their  tails,  before  they  can  let  out  the  wcb  b  c.  And 
then  I  know  they  do  have  ways  of  dividing  their  webs  by  bit- 
ing them  off,  or  in  some  other  way.  Otherwise  they  could 
not  separate  themselves  from  the  web  a  b,  Fig.  3. 

"And  this,  Sir,  is  the  way  of  spiders  going  from  one  tree  to 
another,  at  a  great  distance  ;  and  this  is  the  way  of  their  fiying 
in  the  air.  And,  although  I  say  I  am  certain  of  it,  I  don't  de- 
sire that  the  truth  of  it  should  be  received  upon  my  word  ; 
though  I  could  bring  others  to  testify  to  it,  to  whom  I  have 
shown  it,  and  who  have  looked  on,  with  admiration,  to  see 
their  manner  of  working.  But  every  one's  eyes  that  will  take 
the  pains  to  observe,  will  make  them  as  sure  of  it.  Only 
those,  that  would  make  experiment,  must  take  notice  that 
it  is  not  every  sort  of  spider  that  is  a  flying  spider,  for  those 
spiders  that  keep  in  houses  are  a  quite  different  sort,  as  also 
those  that  keep  in  the  ground,  and  those  that  keep  in  swamps, 
in  hollow  trees,  and  rotten  logs  ;  but  those  spiders,  that  keep 
on  branches  of  trees  and  shrubs,  are  the  flying  spiders.  They 
delight  most  in  walnut  trees,  and  are  that  sort  of  spiders  thai 
make  those  curious  network  polygonal  webs,  that  are  so  fre- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  27 

quently  to  be  seen  in  the  latter  end  of  the  year.     There  are 
more  of  this  sort  of  spiders  by  far  than  of  any  other. 

"  But  yet,  Sir,  I  am  assured  that  the  chief  end  of  this  faculty, 
that  is  given  them,  is  not  their  recreation,  but  their  destruc- 
tion ;  because  their  destruction  is  unavoidably  the  eiTect  of 
it;  and  we  shall  find  nothing,  that  is  the  continual  etfect  of 
nature,  but  what  is  of  the  means  by  which  it  is  brought  to 
pass.  But  it  is  impossible,  but  that  the  greatest  part  of  the 
spiders  upon  the  land  should,  every  year,  be  swept  into  the 
ocean.  For  these  spiders  never  fly,  except  the  weather  is  fair 
and  the  atmosphere  dry  ;  but  the  atmosphere  is  never  clear, 
neither  in  this  nor  any  other  continent,  only  when  the  wind 
blows  from  the  midland  parts,  and  consequently  towards  the 
sea.  As  here  in  New-England,  the  fair  weather  is  only  when 
the  wind  is  westerly,  the  land  being  on  that  side,  and  the 
ocean  on  the  easterly.  And  I  never  have  seen  any  of  these 
spiders  flying,  but  when  they  have  been  hastening  directly 
towards  the  sea.  And  the  time  of  their  flying  being  so  long, 
even  from  about  the  middle  of  August  every  sunshiny  day, 
until  about  the  end  of  October;  (though  their  chief  time,  as 
I  observed  before,  is  the  latter  end  of  i^ugust,  and  beginning 
of  September ;)  and  they  never  flying  from  the  sea,  but  always 
towards  it;  must  needs  get  there  at  last ;  for  its  unreasonable 
to  suppose  that  they  have  sense  enough  to  stop  themselves 
when  they  come  near  the  sea ;  for  then  they  would  have  hun- 
dreds of  times  as  many  spiders  upon  the  sea-shore,  as  any  where 
else. 

"The  same  also  holds  true  of  other  sorts  of  flying  insects  ; 
for  at  these  times,  that  I  have  viewed  the  spiders  with  their 
webs  in  the  air,  there  has  also  appeared  vast  multitudes  of 
flies,  and  all  flying  the  same  way  with  the  spiders  and  webs 
directly  to  the  ocean  ;  and  even  such  as  butterflies,  millers 
and  moths,  which  keep  in  the  grass  at  this  time  of  year,  I 
have  seen  vastly  higher  than  the  tops  of  the  highest  trees,  all 
going  the  same  way.  These  I  have  seen  towards  evening, 
without  such  a  screen  to  defend  my  eyes  from  the  sunbeams; 
which  I  used  to  think  were  seeking  a  warmer  climate. 

"The  reason  of  their  flying  at  that  time  of  year,  I  take  to 
be  because  then  the  ground  and  trees,  the  places  of  their  re- 
sidence in  summer,  begin  to  be  chilly  and  uncomfortable. 
Therefore  when  the  sun  shines  pretty  warm  they  leave  them, 
and  mount  up  in  the  air,  and  expand  their  wings  to  the  sun, 
and  flying  for  nothing  but  their  own  ease  and  comfort,  they 
suffer  themselves  to  go  that  way,  that  they  find  they  can  go 
with  the  greatest  ease,  and  so  where  the  wind  pleases;  and  it 
being  warmth  they  fly  for,  they  find  it  cold  and  laborious  fly- 
ing against  the  wind.     They  therefore  seem  to  use  their  wings^ 


2S  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT     EDWARDS. 

but  just  SO  much  as  to  bear  them  up,  and  suffer  them,  to  go 
with  the  wind.  So  that  without  doubt  almost  all  aerial  in- 
sects, and  also  spiders  which  live  upon  trees  and  are  made 
up  of  them,  are  at  the  end  of  the  year  swept  away  into  the 
sea,  and  buried  in  the  ocean,  and  leave  nothing  behind  them 
but  their  eggs,  for  a  new  stock  the  next  year." 

These  letters,  I  cannot  assign  to  a  later  age  than  twelve.* 
The  latter,  as  I  think  the  reader  will  perceive,  evinces  an  ex- 
actness and  originality  of  observation,  as  well  as  an  accuracy 
and  felicity  of  description,  not  always  rivalled  in  later  years. 
The  former,  as  an  exhibition  of  delicacy,  beauty  and  grace, 
will  probably  be  classed  among  the  happiest  efforts  of  the 
juvenile  pen.  As  a  natural  historian,  he  had  the  honor,  I 
believe,  to  be  the  first  to  observe,  and  communicate,  these  sin- 
gular phenomena  respecting  the  spider;  and  had  he  devoted 
himself  to  that  interesting  science^  to  which  he  was  thus  early 
and  auspiciously  introduced,  no  one  will  doubt,  that  he  might 
easily  have  gained  its  highest  honors.  That  he  did  not  whol- 
ly neglect  it  from  this  time,  we  shall  see  hereafter. 

He  entered  Yale  College  in  New-Haven,  in  Sept.  1716, 
before  he  was  thirteen  years  of  age.  The  college  was  then 
in  its  infancy,  and  various  untoward  circumstances  had  great- 
ly impeded  its  growth.  It  was  first  planted  at  Saybrook,  and 
then  partially  removed  to  Kenilworth,  to  the  house  of  its  first 
Rector,  until  his  death  in  1707.  From  that  time  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Andrews  of  Milford,  one  of  the  Trustees,  was  Rector  pro 
tempore  upwards  of  twelve  years ;  and  the  location  of  the 
college  was  a  constant  theme  of  contention  between  the 
towns  of  New-Haven,  Saybrook,  Wethersfield  and  Hartford, 
until  1716;  when  the  vote  of  the  trustees,  the  donation  of 
Mr.  Yale,  and  the  vote  of  the  legislature  of  the  colony,  fixed 
it  permanently  at  New-Haven.  In  the  collegiate  year,  1716- 
1717,  thirteen  of  the  students  resided  at  New-Haven,  fourteen 
at  Wethersfield,  and  four  at  Saybrook.  The  temporary  pres- 
idency of  Mr.  Andrews  continued  until  1719;  and  as  he  was 
the  acting  minister  of  Milford,  his  oversight  of  the  college, 
and  his  influence  over  the  students,  must  of  course  have  been 
exceedingly  imperfect.  The  government  of  the  institution, 
virtually  and  necessarily,  was  chiefly  in  the  hands  of  the  tu- 
tors ;  who,  as  young  men  without  experience  and  a  knowledge 

*  He  became  a  member  of  college  at  that  age.  In  one  of  them  he  ppeaks  of 
himself  as  "  a  child^-"  an  epithet  rarely  if  ever  applied  by  a  boy,  especially  by  a 
Freshman,  to  himself  after  that  period  of  life.  They  appear  obviously  to  have 
been  written  whilr  he  resided  at  home,  and  the  hand  writing  is  of  the  earliest 
and  most  unformed  cast. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  29 

of  mankind,  could  not  usually  be  found  qualified  for  so  diffi- 
cult a  trust.  Some  time  in  the  year  1717,  the  extreme  un- 
popularity of  one  of  the  tutors  occasioned  a  general  insurrec- 
tion of  the  students,  who  were  at  New-Haven,  against  the 
government  of  the  college  ;  and  in  one  body  they  withdrew 
from  New  Haven,  and  joined  their  companions  at  Wethers- 
field.  At  the  commencement  in  that  year,  eight  of  the  senior 
class  returned  to  New-Haven,  to  receive  their  degrees  of  the 
regular  college  government ;  while  five  received  theirs  irregu- 
larly at  Wethersfield.  I  have  discovered  no  evidence  of  any 
kind  that  Edwards  took  part  in  these  disturl)ances.  He  went, 
however,  with  his  companions  to  Wethersfield,  and  continued 
there  until  1719.  While  there,  he  gained  a  high  character 
and  standing  in  his  class.  His  father,  writing  to  one  of  his 
daughters,  under  date  of  Jan.  27,  1718,  says,  "I  have  not 
heard  but  that  your  brother  Jonathan  is  also  well.  He  has  a 
very  good  name  at  Wethersfield,  both  as  to  his  carriage  and 
his  learning."  While  at  Wethersfield,  he  wrote  to  one  of  his 
sisters  the  following  letter ;  which,  as  it  is  a  document  relat- 
ing to  an  interesting  event  in  the  history  of  the  college,  may 
not  improperly  be  preserved. 

"  To  Miss  Mary  Edwards  at  Northampton. 

Wethersfield,  March  26,  1719. 

"  Dear  Sister, 

"  Of  all  the  many  sisters  I  have,  I  think  I  never  had  one  so 
long  out  of  my  hearing  as  yourself:  inasmuch  as  I  cannot  re- 
member, that  I  ever  heard  one  tittle  from  you,  from  the  time 
you  last  went  up  the  country,  until  the  last  week  by  Mr.  B. 
who  then  came  from  Northampton.  When  he  came  in,  I  tru- 
ly rejoiced  to  see  him,  because  I  fully  expected  to  receive  a 
letter  from  you  by  him.  But  being  disappointed,  and  that 
not  a  little,  I  was  willing  to  make  that,  which  I  hoped  would 
be  an  opportunity  of  receiving,  the  same  of  sending.  For  I 
thought  it  was  a  pity,  that  there  should  not  be  the  least  cor- 
respondence between  us,  or  communication  from  one  to  an- 
other, when  at  no  farther  distance.  I  hope  also  that  this  may 
be  a  means  of  exciting  the  same  in  yourself;  and  so,  having 
more  charity  for  you  than  to  believe,  that  I  am  quite  out  of 
your  mind,  or  that  you  are  not  at  all  concerned  for  me,  I 
think  it  fit  that  1  should  give  you  some  account  of  my  condi- 
tion, relative  to  the  school.  I  suppose  you  are  fully  acquaint- 
ed with  our  coming  away  from  New  Haven,  and  the  circum- 
stances thereof.  Since  then  we  have  been  in  a  more  prosper- 
ous condition,  as  I  think,  than  ever.  But  the  council  and 
trustees,  having  lately  had  a  meeting  at  New-Haven  concern- 


30  I.IFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAllDS. 

ing  it,  have  removed  that  which  was  the  cause  of  our  coming 
away,  viz.  Mr.  Johnson,  from  the  place  of  a  tutor,  and  have 
put  in  Mr.  Cutler,  Pastor  of  Canterbury,  President ;  who,  as 
we  hear,  intends  very  speedily  to  be  resident  at  Yale  College, 
so  that  all  the  scholars  belonging  to  our  school  expect  to  re- 
turn there,  as  soon  as  our  vacancy  after  the  election  is  over. 
"  I  am  your  loving  brother  in  good  health, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

While  a  member  of  college,  he  was  distinguished  for  the 
uniform  sobriety  and  correctness  of  his  behavior,  for  diligent 
application  to  his  studies,  and  for  rapid  and  thorough  attain- 
ments in  learning.  In  the  second  year  of  his  collegiate  course, 
while  at  Wethersfield,  he  read  Locke  on  the  Human  Under- 
standing with  peculiar  pleasure.  The  uncommon  strength 
and  penetration  of  his  mind,  which  admirably  qualified  him 
for  profound  thought  and  metaphysical  investigation,  begnn 
to  be  discovered  and  exerted  even  at  this  early  age.  From 
his  own  account  of  the  subject,  he  was  inexpressibly  enter- 
tained and  delighted  with  that  profound  work,  when  he  read 
it  at  the  age  of  fourteen  ;  enjoying  a  far  higher  pleasure  in 
the  perusal  of  its  pages,  "  than  the  most  greedy  miser  finds, 
when  gathering  up  handfuls  of  silver  and  gold,  from  some 
newly  discovered  treasure."  To  studies  of  this  class  he  from 
that  time  devoted  himself,  as  to  those  in  which  he  felt  the 
most  intense  interest.  Still,  however,  he  applied  himself,  with 
so  much  diligence  and  success,  to  the  performance  of  his  as- 
signed duties,  as  to  sustain  the  first  standing  in  his  class,  and 
to  secure  the  highest  approbation  of  his  instructors. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Cutler  repaired  to  New-Haven  early  in  June 
1T19,  at  the  opening  of  the  summer  term,  to  enter  on  the  du- 
ties of  his  ofiice  as  Rector ;  and  the  students,  among  whom 
was  Edwards,  returned  to  the  college.  The  following  letter 
from  the  Rector  to  his  father,  will  show  the  character  which 
he  had  acquired  while  at  Wethersfield,  and  the  trying  circum- 
stances of  the  college. 

"  JVetv-Haven,  June  30,  1719. 

**Rev.  Sir, 

"  Your  letter  came  to  my  hands  by  your  son.  I  congratu- 
late you  upon  his  promising  abilities  and  advances  in  learning. 
He  is  now  under  my  care,  and  probably  may  continue  so,  and 
doubtless  will  so  do  if  he  should  remain  here,  and  I  be  settled 
in  the  bu^ness  I  am  now  in.  I  can  assure  you,  Rev.  Sir,  that 
your  good  aflfection  to  me  in  this  affair,  and  that  of  the  minis- 
ters around  you,  is  no  small  inducement  tamcj  and  if  I  am 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  31 

prevailed  on  thereby,  it  shall  be  a  strong  motive  to  me  to  im- 
prove my  poor  abilities,  in  the  service  of  such  h')peful  youths 
as  are  with  us.  They  may  sutfer  much  from  my  weakness,  but 
they  shall  not  from  my  neglect.  I  am  no  party-man,  but  shall 
carry  it,  with  an  equal  hajid  and  affection,  to  the  whole  col- 
lege ;  and  I  doubt  not,  but  the  difficulty  and  importance  of 
the  business  will  secure  me  your  prayers, and  those  of  all  good 
men,  which  I  do  much  value  and  desire. 

"  I  remain,  under  the  earnest  hope  and  expectation  of  your 
prayers.  Your  humble  servant, 

"T.  Cutler." 

The  following  characteristical  letter,  written  to  his  father 
in  his  third  'Collegiate  year,  will  not  be  uninteresting  to  the 
reader. 

''  To  the  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards,  Pastor  of  the  Church  at  East 

Windsor. 

"  JVew-Haven,  July  21,  1719. 

•"'  Ever  honoured  Sir, 

"  I  received,  with  two  books,  a  letter  from  yourself,  bear- 
ing the  date  of  July  7th ;  and  therein  I  received  with  the 
greatest  gratitude,  your  most  wholesome  advice  and  counsel ; 
and  I  hope  I  shall,  God  helping  of  me,  use  my  utmost  endea- 
vours to  put  the  same  in  practice.  I  am  sensible  of  the  pre- 
Giousness  of  my  time,  and  am  resolved  it  shall  not  be  through 
any  neglect  of  mine,  if  it  slips  without  the  greatest  advantage. 
I  take  very  great  content  under  my  present  tuition,  as  all  the 
rest  of  the  scholars  seem  to  do  under  theirs.  Mr.  Cutler  is 
extraordinarily  courteous  to  us,  has  a  very  good  spirit  of  go- 
vernment, keeps  the  school  in  excellent  order,  seems  to  in- 
crease in  learning,  is  loved  and  respected  by  all  who  are  un- 
der him,  and  when  he  is  spoken  of  in  the  school  or  toun,  he 
generally  has  the  title  of  President.  The  scholars  all  live  in 
very  good  peace  with  the  people  of  the  town,  and  there  is  not 
a  word  said  about  our  former  carryings  on,  except  now^  and 
then  by  aunt  Mather.  I  have  diligently  searched  into  the 
circumstances  of  Stiles's  examination,  which  was  very  short, 
and  as  far  as  I  can  understand  was  to  no  other  disadvantage 
than  that  he  was  examined  in  Tully's  Orations ;  in  which, 
though  he  had  never  construed  before  he  came  to  New-Ha- 
ven, yet  he  committed  no  error  in  that  or  any  other  book, 
whether  Latin,  Greek  or  Hebrew,  except  in  Virgil,  wherein 
he  could  not  tell  the  Freteritiim  of  Requiesco.  He  is  very 
well  treated  among  the  scholars,  and  accepted  in  the  college 
as  a  member  of  it  by  every  body,  and  also  as  a  freshman  j  nei- 


32  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ther  as  I  think,  is  he  inferior  as  to  learning,  to  any  of  his 
classmates.  I  have  enquired  of  Mr.  Cutler,  what  books  we 
shall  have  need  of  the  next  year.  He  answered  he  would 
have  me  get  against  that  time,  Alstead's  Geometry  and  Gas- 
sendus'  Astronomy ;  with  which  I  would  intreat  you  to  get  a 
pair  of  dividers,  or  mathematician's  compasses,  and  a  scale, 
which  are  absolutely  necessary  in  order  to  learning  mathe- 
matics;  and  also,  the  Art  of  Thinking,  which,  I  am  persuad- 
ed, would  be  no  less  profitable,  than  the  other  necessary,  to 
me,  who  am,  Your  most  dutiful  Son, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

•^  P.  S.  What  we  give  a  week  for  our  board,  is  £0.5*.  0(f." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Habits  of  Study. — Early  Productions. — JVotes  on  the  Mind. 

The  Habits  of  study,  which  Edwards  formed  in  very  early 
youth,  were  not  only  strict  and  severe,  and  this  in  every  branch 
of  literature,  but  in  one  respect,  peculiar.  Even  while  a  boy, 
he  began  to  study,  with  his  pen  in  his  hand  :  not  for  the  pur- 
pose of  copying  off  the  thoughts  of  others,  but  for  the  purpose 
of  writing  down,  and  preserving,  the  thoughts  suggested  to  his 
own  mind,  from  the  course  of  study  which  he  was  pursuing. 
This  most  useful  practice,  he  commenced  in  several  branches 
of  study  very  early;  and  he  steadily  pursued  it  in  all  his  stu- 
dies through  life.  His  pen  appears  to  have  been,  in  a  sense, 
always  in  his  hand.  From  this  practice,  steadily  persevered 
in,  he  derived  the  very  great  advantages  of  thinking  continu-  / 
ally  during  each  period  of  study  ;  of  thinking  accurately;  of  "^ 
thinking  connectedly;  of  thinking  habitually  at  all  times;  of 
banishing  from  his  mind  every  subject,  which  was  not  worthy 
of  continued  and  systematic  thought;  of  pursuing  each  given 
subject  of  thought  as  far  as  he  was  able,  at  the  happy  mo- 
ment when  it  opened  spontaneously  on  his  mind  ;  of  pursuing 
every  such  subject  afterwards,  in  regular  sequence,  starting 
anew  from  the  point  where  he  had  previously  left  off,  when 
again  it  opened  upon  him,  in  some  new  and  interesting  light; 
of  preserving  his  best  thoughts,  his  best  associations,  his  best 
images,  and  then  arranging  them  under  their  proper  heads, 
ready  for  subsequent  use  ;  of  regularly  strengthening  the  fac- 
ulty of  thinking  and  reasoning,  by  constant  and  powerful  ex- 
ercise ;  and,  above  all,  of  gradually  moulding  himself  into  a 
thinking  being — a  being,  who,  instead  of  regarding  thinking 
and  reasoning  as  labour,  could  find  no  high  enjoyment  but  in 
intense,  systematic  and  certain  thought.  In  this  view  of  the 
subject,  when  we  remember  how  few  students  comparatively, 
from  the  want  of  this  mental  discipline,  think  at  all ;  how  few 
of  those,  who  think  at  all,  think  habitually;  how  few  of  those, 
who  think  habitually,  think  to  purpose  ;  and  how  few  of  those, 
who  think  to  purpose,  attain  to  the  fulness  of  the  measure  of 
the  stature,  to  which,  as  thinking  beings,  they  might  have  at- 
tained ;  it  will  not,  I  think,  be  doubted,  that  the  practice  in 
question  was  the  principal  means,  of  the  ultimate  develope- 
ment  of  his  mental  superiority. 

Vol.  I.  5 


34  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

I  find  four  distinct  Series  of  these  manuscript  Notes  or  Re- 
marks,  which,  fiom  the  hand  writing,^  as  well  as  from  other  evi- 
dence, were  obviously  commenced  by  him.,  during  his  collegiate 
life;  and, as  nearly  as  I  can  judge,  in  the  following  order.  The 
first,  entitled,  *'  The  Mind,"  is  a  brief  collection  of  discussions 
and  remarks  in  Mental  Philosophy.  The  second  is  without  a 
title,  and  consists  of  Notes  on  Natural  Science.  The  third 
is  entitled,  "Notes  on  the  Scriptures."  The  fourth  is  enti- 
tled, "  Miscellanies,"  and  consists  chiefly  of  observations  on 
the  Doctrines  of  the  Scriptures.  The  two  last,  he  continued 
through  life. 

The  Series  of  remarks,  entitled,  "The  Mind,"  judging  both 
from  the  handwriting  and  the  subjects,  I  suppose  was  com- 
menced either  during,  or  soon  after,  his  perusal  of  Locke's 
Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.  It  contains  nine  leaves 
of  foolscap,  folded  separately,  and  a  few  more,  obviously  writ- 
ten at  a  later  period.  The  arrangement  of  subjects,  in  these 
papers,  is  less  perfect,  than  that  which  he  subsequently  adopt- 
ed in  other  writings.  It  is  as  follows.  The  word,  proper  to 
express  a  given  subject,  is  written  at  the  commencement  of 
the  paragraph,  which  introduces  it,  in  very  large  letters. 
Where  several  subjects  are  found  on  one  page,  they  are  num- 
bered, I,  2,  3,  &.C.  These  numbers,  with  that  of  the  page, 
furnish  the  reference  in  the  index.  A  few  passages  will  ena- 
ble the  reader,  to  judge  of  the  character  and  habits  of  his  mind, 
at  that  period  of  life. 

"  PLACE  of  minds.  Our  common  way  of  conceiving  of 
what  is  spiritual,  is  very  gross,  and  shadowy,  and  corporeal, 
with  dimensions,  and  figure,  &c. ;  though  it  be  supposed  to 
be  very  clear,  so  that  we  can  see  through  it.  If  we  would 
get  a  right  notion  of  what  is  spiritual,  we  must  think  of  thought, 
oi*  inclination,  or  delight.  How  large  is  that  thing  in  the 
mind,  which  they  call  thought^  Is  love  square,  or  round  r 
Is  the  surface  o{  hatred  rough,  or  smooth.  Is  joy  an  inch,  or 
a  foot,  in  diameter  ?  These  are  spiritual  things ;  and  why 
should  we  then  form  such  a  ridiculous  idea  of  Spirits,  as  to 
think  them  so  long,  so  thick,  or  so  wide,  or  to  think  there  is 
a  necessity  of  their  being  either  square  or  round,  or  some 
other  certain  figure  ? 

*  When  a  boy,  his  writing  was  round  or  circular,  to  an  unusual  degree,  and 
very  legible.  At  the  age  of  twenty,  it  was  more  angular  and  less  distinct, 
though  much  improved  in  appearance.  From  the  time  when  he  began  to 
preach,  in  all  his  papers  intended  for  his  own  inspection,  his  hand  became  more 
and  more  careless,  and  less  and  less,  legible ;  though,  even  to  the  close  of  life, 
his  Letters  were  always  neatly  and  legibly  written.  He  appears  to  have  had  one 
hand  for  himself,  and  another  for  his  friends. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  3p 

"  Therefore,  Spirits  cannot  be  in  place,  in  such  a  sense, 
that  all  within  the  given  limits  shall  be  where  the  spirit  is, 
and  all  without  such  a  circumscription,  where  he  is  not:  but 
in  this  sense  only,  tliat  all  created  spirits  have  clearer  and 
more  strongly  impressed  ideas  of  things,  in  one  place,  than  in 
another,  or  can  produce  efiects  here,  and  not  there  ;  and  as 
this  place  alters,  so  spirits  move.  In  spirits,  united  to  bodies, 
the  Spirit  more  strongly  perceives  things  where  the  body  is, 
and  can  there  immediately  produce  effects ;  and  in  this  sense, 
the  soul  can  be  said  to  be  in  the  same  place,  where  the  body 
is.  And  this  law  is  that  we  call  the  union  between  soul  and 
body.  So  the  soul  may  be  said  to  be  in  the  brain,  because 
ideas  that  come  by  the  body  immediately  ensue,  only  on  al- 
terations that  are  made  there ;  and  the  soul  most  immediate- 
ly produces  effects  no  where  else. 

"  No  doubt  that  all  finite  spirits,  united  to  bodies  or  not, 
are  thus  in  place;  that  is,  that  they  perceive,  or  passively  re- 
ceive, ideas,  only  or  chiefly,  of  created  things,  that  are  in  some 
particular  place  at  a  given  time.  At  least,  a  finite  spirit  can- 
not thus  be  in  all  places  at  a  time,  equally.  And  doubtless 
the  change  of  the  place,  where  they  perceive  most  strongly, 
and  produce  effects  immediately,  is  regular  and  successive ; 
which  is  the  motion  of  spirits." 

*'  PERCEPTION  of  separate  minds.  Our  perceptions,  or 
ideas  that  we  passively  receive  by  our  bodies,  are  communi- 
cated to  us  immediately  by  God,  while  our  minds  are  united 
with  our  bodies;  but  only  we  in  some  measure  know  the  ride. 
We  know  that,  upon  such  alterations  in  our  minds,  there  fol- 
low such  ideas  in  the  mind.  It  need,  therefore,  be  no  difficul- 
ty with  us,  how  we  shall  perceive  things  when  we  are  separate. 
They  will  be  communicated,  then  also,  and  according  to  some 
rule,  no  doubt;  only  we  know  not  what." 

"  UNION  of  mind  with  body.  The  mind  is  so  united  with 
the  body,  that  an  alteration  is  caused  in  the  body,  it  is  proba- 
ble, by  every  action  of  the  mind.  By  those  that  are  very  vig- 
ourous,  a  great  alteration  is  very  sensible  ;  and  at  some  times, 
when  the  vigour  of  the  body  is  impaired  by  disease, especially 
in  the  head,  almost  every  action  causes  a  sensible  alteration 
in  the  body." 

"  CERTAINTY.  Determined  that  there  are  many  degrees 
of  Certainty;  though  not  indeed  of  absolute  certainty,  which 
is  infinitely  strong.  We  are  certain  of  many  things  upon  de- 
monstration, which  yet  we  may  be  made  more  certain  of,  by 
more  demonstration ;  because,  although  according  to  the 
strength  of  the  mind;  we  see  the  connection  of  the  ideas,  yet 
a  stronger  mind  would  see  the  connection  more  perfectly  and 
strongly,  because  it  would  have  the  ideas  more  perfect.     We 


36  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

have  not  such  a  strength  of  mind,  that  we  can  perfectly  con- 
ceive of  but  very  few  things;  and  some  little  of  the  strength 
of  an  idea  is  lost,  in  a  moment  of  time,  as  we  in  the  mind  look, 
successively,  on  the  train  of  ideas  in  a  demonstration." 

"  TRUTH.  Truth  is  the  perception  of  the  relations  there 
are  between  ideas.  Falsehood  is  the  supposition  of  relations 
between  ideas,  that  are  inconsistent  with  those  ideas  them- 
selves, not  in  the  disagreement  with  things  without.  All  truth 
is  in  the  mind,  and  only  there.  'Tis  ideas,  or  what  is  in  the 
mind  alone,  that  can  be  the  object  of  the  mind  ;  and  what  we 
call  Truth,  is  a  consistent  supposition  of  relations  between 
what  is  the  object  of  the  mind.  Falsehood  is  an  inconsistent 
supposition  of  relations.  The  truth,  that  is  in  a  mind,  must 
be,  as  to  its  object,  and  every  thing  pertaining  to  it,  in  that 
mind  ;  for  what  is  perfectly  without  the  mind,  the  mind  has 
nothing  to  do  with. 

"  The  only  foundation  of  error,  is  inadequateness  and  im- 
perfection of  ideas;  for  if  the  idea  were  perfect,  it  would  be 
impossible,  but  that  all  its  relations  should  be  perfectly  per- 
ceived." 

"  GENUS.  The  various  distributing  and  ranking  of  things, 
and  tying  of  them  together,  under  one  common  abstract  idea, 
is,  although  arbitrary,  yet  exceeding  useful,  and,  indeed,  ab- 
solutely necessary;  for  how  miserable  should  we  be,  if  we 
could  think  of  things  only  individually,  as  beasts  do;  how 
slow,  narrow,  painful  and  endless,  would  be  the  exercise  of 
thought. 

*'  What  is  this  putting  and  tying  things  together,  which  is 
done  in  abstraction  ?  'Tis  not  merely  a  tying  of  them  under 
the  same  name;  for  I  do  believe  that  deaf  and  dumb  persons 
abstract  and  distribute  things  into  kinds.  But  its  so  putting 
them  together,  that  the  mind  resolves  hereafter  to  think  of 
them  together,  under  a  common  notion,  as  if  they  were  a  col- 
lective substance  : — the  mind  being  as  sure,  in  this  proceed- 
ing, of  reasoning  well,  as  if  it  were  of  a  particular  substance  ; 
for  it  has  abstracted  that,  which  belongs  alike  to  all,  and  has 
a  perfect  idea,  whose  relations  and  properties  it  can  behold, 
as  well  as  those  of  the  idea  of  one  individual.  Although  this 
ranking  of  things  be  arbitrary,  yet  there  is  much  more  foun- 
dation for  some  distributions,  than  others.  Some  are  much 
more  useful,  and  much  better  serve  the  purposes  of  abstrac- 
tion." 

"  RULES  of  reasoning.  'Tis  no  matter  how  abstracted 
our  notions  are — the  farther  we  penetrate,  and  come  to  the 
prime  reality  of  the  thing,  the  better ;  provided  w^e  can  go  to 
such  a  degree  of  abstraction,  and  carry  it  out  ch^ar.  We  may 
go  so  far  in  abstraction,  that,  although  we  may  thereby  in  fact 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  3T 

see  truth  and  reality,  and  farther  than  ever  was  seen  before, 
yet  we  may  not  be  able  more  than  just  to  touch  it,  and  to  have  a 
few  obscure  glances.  We  may  not  have  strength  of  mind, 
sufficient  to  conceive  clearly  of  the  manner  of  it.  We  see 
farther,  indeed,  but  'tis  but  very  obscurely  and  indistinctly. 
We  had  better  stop  a  degree  or  two  short  of  this,  and  abstract 
no  farther,  than  we  can  conceive  of  the  thing  distinctly,  and 
explain  it  clearly  ;  otherwise,  we  shall  be  apt  to  run  into  error, 
and  confound  our  minds." 

"  PERSOxN^.  Well  might  Mr.  Locke  say,  that  identity  of 
person  conststed  in  identity  of  consciousness  ;*  for  he  might 
have  said,  that  identity  of  spirit  too,  consisted  in  the  same 
consciousness.  A  mind,  or  spirit,  is  nothing  else  but  conscious- 
ness, and  what  is  included  in  it.  The  same  consciousness  is 
to  all  intents  and  purposes,  the  very  same  spirit  or  substance, 
as  much  as  the  same  particle  of  matter  can  be  the  same  as 
itself,  at  diiferent  times." 

"  BEING.  It  seems  strange  sometimes  to  me,  that  there 
should  be  Being  from  all  eternity,  and  I  am  ready  to  say.  What 
need  was  there,  that  any  thing  should  6e?  I  should  then  ask 
myself.  Whether  it  seems  strange,  that  there  should  be  either 
Something,  or  Nothing?  If  so,  'tis  not  strange  that  there  should 
Be  ;  for  that  necessity  of  there  being  something,  or  nothing, 
implies  it." 

'•  SPACE.  The  real  and  necessary  existence  of  Space,  and 
its  infinity  even  beyond  the  Universe,  depends  upon  a  like 
reasoning,  as  the  existence  of  Spirits;  and  so  the  supposition  of 
the  necessity  of  the  existence  of  a  successive  Duration,  before 
the  creation  of  the  Universe — even  the  impossibility  of  remo- 
ving the  idea  out  of  the  mind.  If  it  be  asked.  Whether  or  no, 
if  there  be  limits  of  the  creation,  it  be  not  possible,  that  an 
intelligent  being  should  be  removed  beyond  the  limits;  and 
then,  Whether  or  no  there  would  not  be  distance,  between  that 
intelligent  being  and  the  limits  of  the  Universe,  in  the  same 
manner  and  as  properly,  as  there  is  between  intelligent  beings 
and  the  parts  of  the  Universe  within  its  limits  ? — I  answer,  I 
cannot  tell,  what  the  law  of  nature,  or  the  constitution  of  God, 
would  be  in  this  case. 

^'Coroll.  There  is,  therefore,  no  difficulty  in  answering  such 
questions  as  these,  What  cause  was  there,  why  the  Universe 
was  placed  in  such  a  part  of  space  ;  and  why  created  at  such 
a  time.  For,  if  there  be  no  space  beyond  the  Universe,  it  was 
impossible,  that  the  Universe  should  be  created  in  another 
place  ;  and,  if  there  was  no  time  before  the  Creation,  it  was 
impossible,  that  it  should  be  created  at  another  time." 

TRUTH.     After  all  that  has  been  said  and  done,  the  only 

*  He  soon  discovered  this  mistake. 


38  LIFE    OF     PRESIDENT     EDVVARBS. 

adequate  definition  of  truth  is,  The  agreement  of  our  ideas 
loith  existence.  To  explain  what  this  existence  is,  is  an!)ther 
thing.  In  abstract  ideas,  it  is  nothing  but  the  ideas  them- 
selves :  so  their  truth  is  their  consistency  with  themselves.  In 
things  that  are  supposed  to  be  without  us,  'tis  the  determina- 
tion, and  fixed  mode,  of  God's  exciting  ideas  in  us.  So  that 
truth,  in  these  things,  is  an  agreement  of  our  ideas  with  that 
series  in  God.  'Tis  Existence  ;  and  that  is  all  that  we  can 
say.  'Tis  impossible,  that  we  should  explain  and  resolve  a 
perfectly  abstract,  and  mere,  idea  of  existence;  only  we  always 
find  tiiis,  by  running  of  it  up,  that  God  and  Real  Existence  are 
the  same. 

*•  Coroll.  Hence  we  learn  how  properly  it  may  be  said  that 
God  is,  and  that  There  is  none  else,  and  how  proper  are  these 
names  of  the  Deity,  Jehovah,  and  I  am  that  I  am." 

"  CONSCIOUSNESS,  is  the  mind's  perceiving  what  is  in 
itself,  its  ideas,  actions,  passions,  and  every  thing  that  is  there 
perceivable.  It  is  a  sort  of  feeling  within  itself.  The  mind 
feels  when  it  thinks,  so  it  feels  when  it  desires,  feels  when  it 
loves,  feels  itself  hate,  &c." 

"  LOGICK.  One  reason,  why  at  first,  before  I  knew  other 
logick,*  I  used  to  be  mightily  pleased  with  the  study  of  the 
old  logick,  was,  because  it  was  very  })leasant  to  see  my 
thoughts,  that  before  lay  in  my  mind  jumbled  without  any 
distinction,  ranged  into  order,  and  distributed  into  classes  and 
subdivisions,  that  I  could  tell  where  they  all  belonged,  and 
run  them  up  to  their  general  heads.  For  this  logick  consisted 
much  in  distributions,  and  definitions  ;  and  their  maxims 
gave  occasion,  to  observe  new  and  strange  dependencies  of 
ideas,  and  a  seeming  agreement  of  multitudes  of  them  in  the 
same  thing,  that  I  never  observed  before." 

"  WORDS.  We  are  used  to  apply  the  same  words  a  hundred 
diflerent  ways;  and  ideas  being  so  much  tied  and  associated 
with  the  words,  they  lead  us  into  a  thousand  real  mis- 
takes ;  for  where  we  find  that  the  words  may  be  connected, 
the  ideas  being  by  custom  tied  with  them,  we  think  that  the 
ideas  may  be  connected  likewise,  and  applied  every  where, 
and  in  every  way,  as  the  words." 

"SENSATION.  SELF-EVIDENCE.  Things  that  we  know 
by  immediate  sensation,  we  know  intuitively,  and  they  are  pro- 
perly self-evident  truths :  As,  grass  is  green  ;  the  sun  shines; 
honey  is  sweet.  When  we  say,  that  grass  is  green,  all  that  we 
can  be  supposed  to  mean  by  it,  is — that  in  a  constant  course, 

*  Logic,  until  a  comparatively  late  period,  was  a  study  of  the  second  year  in 
Yale  College.  What  system  of  logic  was  studied  at  that  time,  I  do  not  know  ; 
hut  Mr.  Edwards  appoarp  previously  to  have  looked  into  some  treatise  of  tbe 
t.'(ihoolmon. 


LIFE     OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  39 

when  we  see  grass,  the  idea  of  green  is  excited  with  it ;  and 
this  we  know  self  evidently." 

"INSPIRATION.  The  evidence  of  immediate  inspiration, 
that  the  prophets  had,  when  they  were  immediately  inspired 
by  the  Spirit  of  God  with  any  truth,  is  an  absolute  sort  of  cer- 
tainty ;  and  the  knowledge  is  in  a  sense  intuitive,  much  in  the 
same  manner,  as  faith  and  spiritual  knowledge  of  the  truth  of 
religion.  Such  bright  ideas  are  raised,  and  such  a  clear 
view  of  a  perfect  agreement  with  the  excellencies  of  the  Di- 
vine Nature,  that  its  known  to  be  a  communication  from  Him. 
All  the  Deity  appears  in  the  thing,  and  in  every  thing  pertain- 
ing to  it.  The  Prophet  has  so  divine  a  sense,  such  a  divine 
disposition,  such  a  divine  pleasure,  and  sees  so  divine  an  ex- 
cellency, and  so  divine  a  power,  in  what  is  revealed,  that  he 
sees  as  immediately  that  God  is  there,  as  we  perceive  one 
another's  presence,  when  we  are  talking  together  face  to  face. 
And  our  features,  our  voice  and  our  shapes,  are  not  so  clear 
manifestations  of  us,  as  those  spiritual  resemblances  of  God, 
that  are  in  the  inspiration,  are  manifestations  of  him.  But  yet 
there  are  doubtless  various  degrees  in  inspiration."^ 

These  selections  not  only  evince  uncommon  clearness  of 
perception,  and  strength  of  discrimination,  in  the  mind  of  Ed- 
w^ards,  at  that  early  age ;  but  also  prove  that,  even  then,  it  had 
begun  to  be,  in  no  mean  degree,  what  it  was  afterwards,  in  a 
singular  degree,  creative.  He  seems,  almost  from  the  first, 
never  to  have  studied  the  works  of  others  as  is  usually  done, 
in  order  to  receive  their  thoughts  as  of  course  true,  and  to 
treasure  them  in  the  memory  ;  but  to  have  examined  them 
for  himself  with  great  care,  and,  where  he  found  them  correct, 
to  have  used  them  immediately,  in  the  discovery  and  demon- 
stration of  other  truths. 

These  extracts,  selected  rather  for  their  briefness  than  for 
their  superiority,  will  probably  lead  the  reader  to  peruse  the 
whole  work,  as  contained  in  the  Appendix.  It  is  there  arran- 
ged somewhat  according  to  the  order  of  the  subjects  ;  yet  the 
number  prefixed  to  each  separate  article,  will  show  its  place 
in  the  manuscript  of  the  author.  In  the  series  of  articles, 
under  the  heads  Existence,  Space,  and  Slbstance,  the  rea- 
der will  find  a  perfectly  original  and  very  ingenious  examina- 
tion of  the  question,  Whether  material  existence  is  actual,  or 
merely  ideal.     It  appears  to  have  been  written,   at  various 


*  The  reader  will  find  the  whole  of  this  collection  of  Notes  or  Comments  in 
Appendix  H.  As  an  exhibition  of  the  character,  and  conduct,  of  the  mind  of  a 
sftudent  at  college,  it  may  be  of  essential  and  porma«ent  advantag-e  to  every 
student,  who  will  follow^  his  oxamplo. 


40  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    'EDWARDS. 

times  between  1717  and  1720,  in  as  many  distinct  articles, 
yet  each  has  a  bearing  on  what  precedes.  This  is  the  iden- 
tical question,  investigated,  with  so  much  ingenuity,  by  Berk- 
ley, in  his  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge  Both  writers 
take  the  same  side  of  the  question,  and  insist  that  matte?'  is 
'merely  ideal ;  and  each  wrote  independently  of  the  other. 
Mr.  Edwards  appears  to  have  been  led  to  this  investigation, at 
this  time,  by  reading  the  Essay  of  Locke.  In  comparing  the 
two,  it  should  be  remembered,  that  the  Treatise  of  Berkley 
was  written  at  mature  age,  and  is  a  regularly  digested  and 
finished  work,  duly  prepared  by  the  author  for  publication  ; 
while  that  of  Edwards  was  written  in  very  early  youth,  and 
consists  of  detached  fragments  of  thought,  set  down  only  to 
be  remembered,  and  perhaps  never  looked  at  afterwards. 
Making  these  allowances,  it  will  probably  be  thought,  that  the 
latter  evinces  a  depth  of  thought,  and  strength  of  demonstra- 
tion, in  no  respect  inferior  to  those  exhibited  m  the  former. 

It  is  also  a  singular  fact  that,  at  this  very  early  period,  he 
should  have  fixed  upon  the  definition  of  a  Cause,  which  is 
substantially  the  same,  with  that  given  by  Brown,  near  a  cen- 
tury afterwards.  The  definition  of  Edwards  is  as  follows  : 
"  A  Cause  is  that,  after  or  upon  the  existence  of  which  or  the 
existence  of  it  after  such  a  mariner,  the  existence  of  another 
thing  follows^  That  of  Brown  is  thus  expressed  :  "  A 
Cause  is  that,  which  immediately  precedes  any  change  ;  and 
which,  existing  at  any  time,  in  similar  cii  cumstances  has  been 
always,  and  will  he  always  immediately  followed  by  a  similar 
change.''"'  Both  definitions  are  founded  on  the  supposition,  that 
*'  priority  in  the  sequence  observed,  and  invariableness  of  an- 
tecedence in  the  past  and  future  sequences  supposed,  are  the 
elements,  and  the  only  elements,  combined  in  the  notion  of  a 
cause." 

No  one,  probably,  will  rise  from  a  perusal  of  this  early  effort, 
without  feeling  a  deep  regret,  that  the  author  did  not  devote 
an  adequate  portion  of  time  to  the  completion  of  a  plan,  so 
well  conceived,  of  what  must  have  proved  an  able  and  pro- 
found Treatise  on  Mental  Philosophy.  In  his  Treatise  on  the 
Will,  we  have  indeed  one  great  division  of  this  very  work. 
From  the  unrivalled  success  of  his  researches  in  the  investi- 
gation of  that  faculty,  it  appears  deeply  to  be  lamented,  that 
he  should  not  have  found  leisure,  for  a  similar  Essay  on  the  Hu- 
man Understanding. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Early  Productions  continued. — JVotes  on  J\''atural  Science. 

The  little  collection  of  papers,  which  I  have  denominated 
Notes  on  Natural  Science,  consists  of  eight  sheets  of  fools- 
cap, several  of  them  detached,  and  containing,  each,  a  series 
of  notes  and  observations,  entirely  independent  of  the  others. 
His  class  pursued  their  mathematical  and  philosophical  stu- 
dies, during  their  two  last  years;  and  many  of  the  articles  in 
this  collection,  as  is  plam  from  the  hand-writing,  were  obvi- 
ously written  at  this  time ;  others  during  his  tutorship,  and  a 
few  at  a  still  later  period.  A  few  specimens  will  be  exhibited 
here,  to  show  the  general  plan  and  character  of  the  work,  as 
far  as  it  was  developed  in  his  own  mind. 

On  the  second  page  of  the  cover  are  the  following  rules  to 
direct  him  in  writing  the  work. 

*'  1.  Try  not  only  to  silence,  but  to  gain. 

"2.  To  give  but  few  prefatorial  admonitions  about  the  style 
and  method.  It  doth  an  author  much  hurt  to  show  his  con- 
cern in  these  things. 

"3.  What  is  prefatorial,  not  to  write  in  a  distinct  preface 
or  introduction,  but  in  the  body  of  the  work  :  then  I  shall  be 
sure  to  have  it  read  by  every  one. 

"  4.  Let  much  modesty  be  seen  in  the  style. 

"5.  Not  to  insert  any  disputable  thing,  or  that  will  be  like- 
ly to  be  disputed  by  learned  men  ;  for  I  may  depend  upon  it 
they  will  receive  nothing  but  what  is  undeniable  from  me  ; 
that  is,  in  things  exceedingly  beside  the  ordinary  way  of 
thinking. 

"■  6."  (In  short  hand.) 

"  7.  When  I  would  prove  any  thing,  to  take  special  care 
that  the  matter  be  so  stated,  that  it  shall  be  seen  most  clearly 
and  distinctly,  by  every  one,  just  how  much  I  would  prove  ; 
and  to  extricate  all  questions  from  the  least  confusion  or  am- 
biguity of  words,  so  that  the  ideas  shall  be  left  naked. 

"8.  In  the  course  of  reasoning,  not  to  pretend  any  thing 
to  be  more  certain,  than  every  one  will  plainly  see  it  is,  by 
such  expressions  as, — "  It  is  certain," — "  It  is  undeniable," 

&-C. 

"  9.  To  be  very  moderate  in  the  use  of  terms  of  art.     Let 
Vol.  I.  '  r> 


42  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

it  not  look  as  if  I  was  much  read,  or  w^as  conversant  with 
books,  or  with  the  learned  world. 

*'  10.  In  the  method  of  placins:  things,  the  first  respect  is 
to  be  had  to  the  easiness  and  intelligibleness,  the  clearness 
and  certainty,  the  generality,  and  according  to  the  depend- 
ence of  other  things  upon  them. 

"IK  Never  to  dispute  for  things,  after  that  1  cannot  hand- 
somely retreat,  upon  conviction  of  the  contrary. 

"  12.  Let  there  be  much  compliance  w^ith  the  reader's 
weakness,  and  according  to  the  rules  in  the  Ladies'  Library, 
vol.  L  p.  340,  and  seq. 

"  13.  Let  there  be  always  laid  down  as  many  lemmata,  or 
preparatory  propositions,  as  are  necessary  to  make  the  conse- 
quent preparation  clear  and  perspicuous. 

"  14.  When  the  proposition  allows  it,  let  there  be  confirm- 
ing Corollaries  and  Inferences,  for  the  confirmation  of  what 
had  been  before  said  and  proved. 

"  15.  Often  it  suits  the  subject  and  reasoning  best,  to  ex- 
plain by  w^ay  of  objection  and  answer,  after  the  manner  of 
dialogue. 

"  IG.  Always,  when  I  have  occasion,  to  make  use  of  math- 
ematical proofs,  (the  rest  in  short  hand.) 

"  17."  (In  short  hand.) 

"  18.  If  I  publish  these  propositions,"  (the  rest  in  shorthand.) 

"  19  and  20."  (In  short  hand.) 

The  preceding  rules  are,  generally,  as  applicable  to  any  oth- 
er work,  as  to  a  work  on  Natural  Science^  and  discover  such 
good  sense,  and  so  good  a  spirit,  and,  if  rigidly  followed  by  au- 
thors, would  save  the  press  from  so  much  confusion  of  thought, 
so  much  error,  and  so  much  folly,  that  it  were  wrong  merely 
to  throw  them  into  an  Appendix,  lest  they  should  not  be  read. 
Though  written  in  early  youth,  to  guide  their  author  in  a  work 
which  he  never  completed,  yet  the  reader  of  his  works  will  be 
satisfied,  that  they  were  strictly  followed  by  him,  in  all  his 
subsequent  w^ritings. 

The  Notes  or  Remarks  in  these  manuscripts,  consist  partly 
of  General  principles  in  Philosophy,  demonstrated  by  the  wri- 
ter, with  the  intention  of  ultimately  introducing  them  into 
their  proper  place,  in  his  work  ;  and  partly  of  Phenomena  in 
various  branches  of  Natural  History — Aerology,  Geology, 
Physiology,  Zoology,  Entomology,  and  Botany — which  he 
himself  had  observed,  w"ith  his  own  explanations  of  those  phe- 
nomena. These,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  of  his  great 
principles,  are  placed,  not  scientifically,  but  numerically,  as 
they  presented  themselves  to  his  nvnd  for  investigation  :  the 
business  of  arrangement  and  classification,  having  been  pur- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4^' 

posely  reserved,  until  the  materials  of  the  work  were  fully 
collected.  The  first  page  contains  the  following  Preamble 
or  Preface,  to  the  whole  work. 

"  Of  Vhe  Prejudices  of  the  Imagination. 
(Lemma  to  the  whole.) 
<'0f  all  prejudices,  no  one  so  fights  with  Natural  Philoso- 
phy, and  prevails  m  >re  against  it  than  those  of  Imagination. 
It  is  these,  which  make  the  vulgar  so  roar  out,  upon  the  m^^n- 
tion  of  some  very  rational  philosophical  truths.  And,  iniieed, 
I  have  known  of  some  very  learned  men,  that  have  pretended  to 
a  more  than  ordinary  freedom  from  such  prejudices,  so  overcome 
by  them,  that,  merely  because  of  them,  they  have  believed  things 
most  absurd.  And  truly,  I  hardly  know  of  any  other  prejudi- 
ces, that  are  more  powerful  against  truth,  of  any  kind,  than 
these  ;  and  I  believe  they  will  not  give  the  hand  to  any,  in 
any  case,  except  to  those,  arising  from  our  ruling  self-interest, 
or  the  impetuosity  of  human  passions.  And  there  is  very 
good  reason  for  it:  for  opinions,  arising  from  imagination,  take 
us  as  soon  as  we  are  born,  are  beat  into  us  by  every  act  of 
sensation,  and  so  grow  up  with  us,  from  our  very  births,  and 
by  that  means,  grow  into  us  so  fast,  that  it  is  almost  impossible 
to  root  them  out :  being,  as  it  were,  so  incorporated  with  our 
very  minds,  that  whatsoever  is  objected,  contrary  thereunto, 
is  as  if  it  were  dissonant  to  the  very  constitution  of  them. 
Hence,  men  come  to  make  what  they  can  actually  perceive, 
by  their  senses,  or  by  immediate  or  outside  reflection  into 
their  own  souls,  the  standard  of  possibility,  or  impossibility; 
so  that  there  must  be  no  body,  forsooth,  bigger  than  they  can 
conceive  of,  or  less  than  they  can  see  with  their  eyes  :  no 
motion,  either  much  swifter,  or  si  -wer,  than  they  can  imagine. 
As  to  the  greatness,  and  distance  of  bodies,  the  learned  world 
have  pretty  well  conquered  their  imagination,  with  respect  to 
them ;  neither  will  any  body  flatly  deny,  that  it  is  possible, 
for  bodies  to  be  of  any  degree  of  bigness,  that  can  be  men- 
tioned ;  yet,  imaginations  of  this  kind,  among  the  learned 
themselves,  even  of  this  learned  age,  have  a  very  powerful, 
secret  influence,  to  cause  them  either  to  reject  things,  really 
true,  as  erroneous,  or  to  embrace  those  that  are  really  so. 
Thus,  some  men  will  yet  say,  that  they  cannot  conceive,  how 
the  Fixed  Stars  can  be  so  distant,  as  that  the  Earth's  annual 
revolution  should  cause  no  parallax  among  them,  and  so,  are 
about  to  fall  back  into  antiquated  Ptolemy,  his  system;  mere- 
ly to  ease  their  imagination.  Thus  also,  on  the  other  hand, 
a  very  learned  man,  and  sagacious  astronomer,  upon  conside- 
ration of  the  vast  magnitude  of  the  visible  part  of  the  Uni- 
verse, has,  in  the  ecstacy  of  his  imagination,  been  hurried  on, 


44  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

to  pronounce  the  Universe  infinite  ;  which  I  may  say,  out  of  ve- 
neration, was  beneath  such  a  man  as  he.  As  if  it  were  anymore 
an  argument,  because  what  he  could  see  of  the  Universe  were 
so  big,  as  he  was  assured  it  was.  And  suppose,  he  had  discover- 
ed the  visible  Universe,  so  vast  as  it  is,  to  be  as  a  globule  of  wa- 
ter to  another  Universe ;  the  case  is  the  same ;  as  if  it  would  have 
been  any  more  of  an  argument,  that  that  larger  Universe  was 
infinite,  than  if  the  visible  part  thereof,  were  no  bigger,  than 
a  particle  of  the  water  of  this,  I  think  one  is  no  nearer  to 
infinite,  than  another. 

"To  remedy  this  prejudice,!  will,  as  the  best  method  I  can 
think  of,  demonstrate  two  or  three  physical  Theorems  ;  which 
I  believe,  if  they  are  clearly  understood,  will  put  every  man 
clean  out  of  conceit  with  his  imagination:  in  order  whereun- 
to,  these  two  are  prerequisite. 

"  PRELIMLNARY  PROPOSITIONS. 

"  Prop.  I.  There  is  no  degree  of  Swiftness  of  Motion  what- 
ever, but  what  is  possible. 

"  Prop.  II.  There  may  be  bodies  of  any  indefinite  degree 
of  Smallness." 

Each  of  these  propositions  is  demonstrated  ;  and  a  third  is 
subjoined,  but  left  without  demonstration,  together  with  seve- 
ral Postulates.  The  next  half  sheet  contains  the  following 
discussion,  in  which  he  establishes  the  reality  of  Being,  as  the 
foundation  of  a  System  of  philosophy. 

"OF  BEING. 
"  That  there  should  absolutely  be  Nothing  at  all,  is  utterly 
impossible.  The  mind,  let  it  stretch  its  conceptions  ever  so 
far,  can  never  so  much  as  bring  itself  to  conceive  of  a  state  of 
perfect  Nothing.  It  puts  the  mind  into  mere  convulsion  and 
confusion,  to  think  of  such  a  state;  and  it  contradicts  the  very 
nature  of  the  soul,  to  think  that  such  a  state  should  be.  It  is 
the  greatest  of  contradictions,  and  the  aggregate  of  all  con- 
tradictions, to  say  that  thing  should  not  be.  It  is  true, 
we  cannot  so  distinctly  show  the  contradiction  in  words; 
because  we  cannot  talk  about  it,  without  speaking  stark  non- 
sense, and  contradicting  ourselves  at  every  word  :  and  because 
Nothing  is  that,  whereby  we  distinctly  show  other  particular 
contradictions.  But  here  we  are  run  up  to  our  first  principle, 
and  have  no  other  to  explain  the  nothingness,  or  not  being,  of 
Nothing  by.  Indeed,  we  can  mean  nothing  else  by  Nothing, 
but  a  state  of  absolute  contradiction ;  and  if  any  man  thinks, 
that  he  can  conceive  well  enough  how  there  should  be  Nothing, 
I'll  engage,  that  what  he  means  by  Nothing,  is  as  much  Some- 
thing, as  any  thing  that  he  ever  thought  of  in  his  life;  and  I 
believe,  that  if  he  knew  what  Nothing  was,  it  would  be  intui- 
tively evident  to   him  that  it  could   not  be. — Thus  we  see 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  45 

it  is  necessary  that  some  being  should  eternally  be.  And 
it  is  a  more  palpable  contradiction  still  to  say,  that  there  must 
be  Being  somewhere,and  not  otherwhere,  for  the  words  Msolute 
JYothing,  and  Hhere,  contradict  each  other.  And,  besides,  it 
gives  as  great  a  shock  to  the  mind,  to  think  of  pure  Nothing 
being  in  any  one  place,  as  it  does  to  think  of  it  in  all  places : 
and  it  is  self-evident,  that  there  can  be  Nothing  in  one  place, 
as  well  as  in  another  ;  and  if  there  can  be  in  one,  there  can  be 
in  all.  So  that  we  see  that  this  Necessary,  Eternal  Being  must 
be  Infinite  and  Omnipotent. 

"This  Infinite  and  Omnipotent  being  cannot  be  solid.  Let 
us  see  how  contradictory  it  is,  to  say  that  an  Infinite  being  is 
solid  ;  for  solidity  surely  is  nothing,  but  resistance  to  other  so- 
lidities.— Space  is  this  necessary,  eternal,  infinite,  and  omni- 
present being.  We  find  that  we  can,  with  ease,  conceive  how 
all  other  beings  should  not  be.  We  can  remove  them  out  of 
our  minds,  and  place  some  other  in  the  room  of  them  :  but 
Space  is  the  very  thing,  that  we  can  never  remove,  and  conceive 
of  its  not  being.  If  a  man  would  imagine  Space  anywhere 
to  be  divided,  so  as  there  should  be  Nothing  between  the  di- 
vided parts,  there  remains  Space  between,  notwithstanding, 
and  so  the  man  contradicts  himself.  And  it  is  self-evident  I 
believe  to  every  man,  that  Space  is  necessary,  eternal,  infinite 
and  omnipresent.  But  I  had  as  good  speak  plain:  I  have  al- 
ready said  as  much  as  that  Space  is  God.*  And  it  is  indeed 
clear  to  me,  that  all  the  Space  there  is,  not  proper  to  body,  all 
the  Space  there  is  without  the  bounds  of  Creation,  all  the 
Space  there  was  before  the  Creation,  is  God  himself;  and  no- 
body would  in  the  least  pick  at  it,  if  it  were  not  because  of  the 
gross  conceptions  that  we  have  of  Space. 

"  A  state  of  absolute  nothing  is  a  state  of  absolute  con- 
tradiction. Absolute  nothing  is  the  aggregate  of  all  the 
contradictions  in  the  world  :  a  state  wherein  there  is  neither 
body  nor  spirit,  nor  space,  neither  empty  space  nor  full  space, 
neither  little  nor  great,  narrow  nor  broad,  neither  infinite 
space  nor  finite  space,  not  even  a  mathematical  point,  neither 
up  nor  down,  neither  north  nor  south,  (I  do  not  mean  as  it  is 
with  respect  to  the  body  of  the  earth,  or  some  other  great  bo- 
dy) but  no  contrary  points,  positions  or  directions,  no  such 
thing  as  either  here  or  there,  this  way  or  that  way,  or  any 
way.  When  we  go  about  to  form  an  idea  of  perfect  No- 
thing, we  must  shut  out  all  these  things;  we  must  shut  out 
of  our  minds,  both  space  that  has  something  in  it,  and  space 
that  has  nothing  in  it.  We  must  not  allow  ourselves  to  think 
of  the  least  part  of  space,  be  it  ever  so  small.  Nor  must  we 
suffer  our  thoughts  to  take  sanctuary  in  a  mathematical  point. 

*  This  was  written  at  15  or  16  rears  of  air''. 


46  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

When  we  go  to  expel  Being  out  of  our  thoughts,  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  leave  empty  Space  in  the  room  of  it;  and  when 
we  go  to  expel  emptiness  from  our  thoughts,  we  must  not 
think  to  squeeze  it  out,  by  any  thing  close^  hard,  and  solid  ; 
but  we  must  think  of  the  same,  that  the  sleeping  rocks  do 
dream  of;  and  not  till  then,  shall  we  get  a  complete  idea  of 
Nothing. 

"  When  we  go  to  enquire,  Whether  or  no,  there  can  be  ab- 
solutely Nothing  ?  we  utter  nonsense  in  so  enquiring.  The 
stating  of  the  question  is  nonsense  ;  because  we  make  a  dis- 
junction where  there  is  none.  Either  Being,  or  absolute  No- 
thing, is  no  disjunction  ;  no  more  than  whether  a  triangle  is  a 
triangle,  or  not  a  triangle.  There  is  no  other  way,  but  only 
for  there  to  be  existence  :  there  is  no  such  thing,  as  absolute 
Nothing.  There  is  such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect  to 
this  ink  and  paper :  there  is  such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with 
respect  to  you  and  me  :  there  is  such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with 
respect  to  this  globe  of  earth,  and  with  respect  to  this  Uni- 
verse. There  is  another  way,  beside  these  things  having  ex- 
istence ;  but  there  is  no  such  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect 
to  Entity,  or  Being,  absolutely  considered.  We  do  not  know 
what  we  say,  if  we  say,  that  we  think  it  possible  in  itself,  that 
there  should  not  be  Entity. 

"  And  how  doth  it  grate  upon  the  mind  to  think  that  Some- 
thing should  be  from  all  eternity,  and  yet  Nothing  all  the  while 
be  conscious  of  it.  To  illustrate  this:  Let  us  s  ppose  that 
the  World  had  a  being  from  all  eternity,  and  had  many  great 
changes  and  wonderful  revolutions,  and  all  the  while  Nothing 
knew  it,  there  was  no  knowledge  in  the  Universe  of  any  such 
thing.  How  is  it  possible  to  bring  the  mind  to  imagine  this. 
Yea,  it  is  really  impossible  it  should  be,  that  any  thing  should 
exist,  and  Nothing  know  it.  Then  you  will  say.  If  it  be  so,  it 
is,  because  Nothing  has  any  existence  but  in  consciousness  : 
No,  certainly,  no  where  else,  but  either  in  created  or  uncreated 
consciousness. 

"Suppose  there  were  another  Universe^  merely  of  bodies, 
created  at  a  great  distance  from  this;  created  in  excellent  or-, 
der,  harmonious  motions,  and  a  beautiful  variety  ;  and  there 
was  no  created  intelligence  in  it,  nothing  but  senseless  bodies, 
and  nothing  but  God  knew  any  thing  of  it.  I  demand  where 
else  that  Universe  would  have  a  being,  but  only  in  the  Divine 
consciousness?  Certainly  in  no  other  respect.  There  would 
be  figures,  and  magnitudes,  and  motions,  and  roportions  ;  but 
where,  where  else,  except  in  the  Almighty's  knowledge  ?  How 
is  it  possible  there  should. — But  then  you  will  say,  For  the 
same  reason  in  a  room  closely  shut  up,  which  nobody  sees, 
there  is  nothing  except  in  God's  knowledge. — I  answer.  Ore- 


LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS.  47 

ated  beings  are  conscious  of  the  effects  of  what  is  in  the  room  ; 
for  perhaps  there  i.s  not  one  leaf  of  a  tree,  nor  a  spire  of  grass, 
but  what  produces  effects  all  over  the  Universe,  and  will  pro- 
duce them  to  the  end  of  eternity.  But  any  otherwise,  there  is 
nothing  in  a  ror^m  so  shut  up,  but  only  in  God's  consciousness. 
How  can  any  thing  be  there  any  other  way.  This  will  appear 
to  be  truly  so,  to  any  one  who  thinks  of  it,  with  the  whole  uni- 
ted strength  of  his  mind.  Let  us  suppose,  for  illustration,  this 
impossibility,  that  all  the  spirits  in  the  Universe  were  for  a  time 
deprived  of  their  consciousness,  and  that  God's  consciousness 
at  the  same  time  were  to  be  intei  mitted.  I  say  the  Universe 
for  that  t-me  would  cease  to  be  of  itself;  and  this  not  merely, 
as  we  speak,  because  the  Almighty  could  not  attend  to  uphold 
it;  but  because  God  could  know  noticing  of  it.  It  is  our  fool- 
is!)  imajfinati  >n,  that  will  not  s:uffer  u^  to  see  it.  We  fancy 
ther:-  may  be  figuies  and  ma.unitudes,  relat.ons  and  properties, 
without  any  one  knowino-  of  it.  But  it  is  our  imagination 
hurt.^  us.     We  do  not  know  what  figures  and  properties  are. 

"  Our  imagination  makes  us  fancy,  that  we  see  shapes,  and 
colours,  and  magnitudes,  though  nobody  is  there  to  behold  it. 
But  to  help  our  imagination,  let  us  thus  state  the  case  :  Let 
us  suppose  the  creation  deprived  of  every  ray  of  light,  so  that 
there  should  not  be  the  least  glimmering  of  light  in  the  Uni- 
verse. Now  all  will  own,  that,  in  such  case,  the  Universe  would 
really  be  immediately  deprived  of  all  its  colours.  No  one 
part  of  the  Universe  is  any  more  red,  or  blue,  or  green,  or 
yellow,  or  black,  or  white,  or  light,  or  dark,  or  transparent, 
or  opake.  There  would  be  no  visible  distinction,  between  the 
Universe  and  the  rest  of  the  incomprehensible  void  :  yea,  there 
would  be  no  difference  in  these  respects,  between  the  Uni- 
verse and  the  infinite  void  ;  so  that  any  part  of  that  void  would 
really  be  as  light  and  as  dark,  as  white  and  as  black,  as  red 
and  as  green,  as  blue  and  as  brown,  as  transparent  and  as 
opake,  as  any  part  of  the  Universe  :  so  that,  in  such  case,  there 
would  be  no  difference,  in  these  respects,  between  the  Universe 
and  Nothing.  So  also  'here  would  be  no  difference, between 
one  part  of  the  Universe  and  another:  all,  in  these  respects,  is 
alike  confounded  with,  and  undistinguished  from,  infinite 
emptiness. 

"  At  the  same  time,  also,  let  us  suppose  the  Universe  to  be 
altogether  deprived  of  motion,  and  all  parts  of  it  to  be  at  per- 
fect rest.  Then,  the  Universe  would  not  differ  from  the  void, 
in  this  respect :  there  would  be  no  more  motion  in  the  one, 
than  in  the  other.  Then,  also,  solidity  would  cease.  All  that 
we  mean,  or  can  be  meant,  by  solidity,  is  resistance  ;  resist- 
ance to  touch,  the  resistance  of  some  parts  of  space.  This 
is  all  the  knowledge  we  get  of  solidity,  by  our  senses,  and,  I 


48  LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

am  sure,  all  that  we  can  get  any  other  way.  But  solidity 
shall  be  shewn  to  be  nothing  else,  more  fully,  hereafter.  But 
there  can  be  no  resistance,  if  there  is  no  motion.  One  body 
cannot  resist  another,  when  there  is  perfect  rest  among  them. 
But,  you  will  say,  Though  there  is  no  actual  resistance,  yet 
there  is  potential  resistance  :  that  is,  such  and  such  parts  of 
space  would  resist  upon  occasion.  But  this  is  all  that  I  would 
have,  that  there  is  no  solidity  now ;  not  but  that  God  could 
cause  there  to  be,  on  occasion.  And  if  there  is  no  solidity, 
there  is  no  extension,  for  extension  is  the  extendedness  of  so- 
lidity. Then,  all  figure,  and  magnitude,  and  proportion,  im- 
mediately cease.  Put,  then,  both  these  suppositions  togeth- 
er :  that  is,  deprive  the  Universe  of  light  and  motion,  and  the 
case  would  stand  thus  with  the  Universe  :  There  would  be 
neither  white  nor  black,  neither  blue  nor  brown,  neither 
bright  nor  shaded,  pellucid  nor  opake,  no  noise  nor  sound, 
neither  heat  nor  cold,  neither  fluid  nor  solid,  neither  wet  nor 
dry,  neither  hard  nor  soft,  nor  solidity,  nor  extension,  nor 
figure,  nor  magnitude,  nor  proportion,  nor  body,  nor  spirit. 
What  then  is  to  become  of  the  Universe }  Certainly  it  exists 
no  where,  but  in  the  Divine  mind.  This  will  be  abundantly 
clearer  to  one,  after  having  read  what  I  have  further  to  say  of 
solidity,  &,c. :  so  that  we  see  that  a  Universe,  without  motion, 
can  exist  no  where  else,  but  in  the  mind — either  infinite  or 
finite. 

"  Corollary.  It  follows  from  hence,  that  those  beings,  which 
have  knowledge  and  consciousness,  are  the  only  proper,  and 
real,  and  substantial  beings ;  inasmuch  as  the  being  of  other 
things  is  only  by  these.  From  hence,  we  may  see  the  gross 
mistake  of  those,  who  think  material  things  the  most  substan- 
tial beings,  and  spirits  more  like  a  shadow ;  whereas,  spirits 
only  are  properly  substance." 

The  next  sheet,  contains  his  views  of  Atoms,  or  of  perfectly 
Solid  Bodies,  exhibited  under  the  two  following  propositions : 

"  Prop.  I.  All  bodies  whatsoever,  except  Atoms  themselves, 
must  of  absolute  necessity,  be  composed  of  Atoms,  or  of  bodies 
indiscerptible,  that  cannot  be  made  less,  or  whose  parts  can- 
not, by  any  finite  force,  be  separated  one  from  another. 

"  Prop.  II.  Two  or  more  Atoms,  or  Perfect  Solids,  touch- 
ing each  other  by  surfaces,  (I  mean  so  that  every  point,  in  any 
surface  of  the  one,  shall  touch  every  point  in  some  surface  of 
the  other;  that  is,  not  simply  in  some  particular  parts,  or  lines, 
of  their  surfaces,  however  many  ;  for  whatsoever  does  touch  in 
more  than  points  and  lines,  toucheth  in  every  point  of  some 
surface,)  thereby  become  one  and  the  same  Atom,  or  Perfect 
Solid." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  49 

These,  he  demonstrates,  and  from  each,  derives  numerous 
Corollaries. 

The  remainder  of  the  work,  constituting  far  the  greater  part 
of  :t,  he  entitles,  "  Things  to  b&  considered,  or  written 
I'ULLY  ABOUT."  Thcsc  are  arranged  numerically  ;  and  in  tw^o 
series,  probably  from  the  paper,  on  which  he  began  the  first  sc- 
ries, having  been  for  a  time  mislaid  :  the  first  reaching  to  No. 
29,  the  latter  to  88.  In  these,  he  suggests  many  curious  and  im- 
portant points,  to  be  investigated  ;  and  many  others,  which  he 
either  explains,  or  demonstrates.  Several  of  the  articles,  in 
the  second  series,  are  in  a  hand  more  formed,  and  were  pro- 
bably written,  vvhile  he  was  a  Tutor  in  the  college.  A  few 
articles  may  serve  as  specimens  of  the  wliole. 

Fj'om  the  first  Series. 

"  1.  To  observe,  that  Incurvation,  Refraction,  and  Reflec- 
tion from  concave  surfaces  of  drops  of  water,  &,c.  is  from 
Gravity. 

"2.  To  observe,  that  'tis  likely,  that  the  Attraction  of  par- 
ticles of  heat  contributes  as  much,  towards  the  burning  of 
bodies,  as  the  Impulse. 

'•  3.  To  observe,  that  water  may  quench  fire,  by  insinua- 
ting itself  into  the  pores,  and  hindering  the  free  play  of  the 
particles,  and  by  reason  of  its  softness,  and  pliableness,  dead- 
ening their  motion,  like  throwing  a  stone  upon  a  featherbed. 

"  4.  To  observe,  that,  if  we  do  suppose  an  infinite  number 
of  Surfaces  in  the  Universe,  yet,  according  to  the  number,  so 
must  be  the  smallness. 

"  5.  To  observe,  that  the  cause,  that  an  object  appears  not 
double,  being  seen  with  two  eyes,  is,  that  all  the  parts  upon 
the  Retina,  that  exactly  correspond,  end  upon  the  same  spot 
of  the  surface  in  the  brain,  which  receives  images. 

"  6.  To  observe,  that  one  end  of  R.espi ration  is,  that  the 
motion,  in  the  chest,  may  be  communicated  to  the  other  part.s 
of  the  body. 

•'  9.  To  show  that  the  different  refrangibility  of  rays  must, 
of  necessity,  be  owing  either  to  their  different  velocity,  or  dif- 
ferent magnitude  ;  because  there  can  be  no  other  reason 
of  their  ditlerent  attractability,  which  indeed  is  refrangibility. 

"  11.  To  show^  from  Sir  Isaac  Newton's  principles  of  Light 
and  Colours,  why  the  sky  is  blue ;  vvliy  the  sun  is  not  perfect- 
ly white,  as  it  would  be  if  there  was  no  atmosphere,  but  some- 
what inclining  to  a  yellow  even  at  noon-day  ;  why  the  sun  is 
yellow  when  rising  and  setting,  and  sometimes  in  smoky 
weather  of  a  blood  red  ;  why  the  clouds  and  the  atmosphere, 
near  the  horizon,  appear  red  and  yellow,  before  sunrising  and 
after  sunsctting :  whv  distant  mountains  are  blue,  d:C. 

Vol.  T.  '        '  7 


yQ  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAKDb, 

"  13.  To  enquire,  how  all  the  rays  of  one  sort  can  be  obstruct- 
ed, by  any  medium,  ashy  the  air  in  smoky  weather,  &ic.,  and  the 
other  rays  still  proceed  :  and  to  observe,  that  its  so  doing  makes  it 
probable,  that  there  are  some  other  properties  in  Hght  and  medi- 
ums, yet  wholly  unknown ;  and  to  observe,  that  the  unaccountable 
phenomena  of  reflexions  prove  the  same  thing ;  and  to  enquire 
what  it  is;  and  also,  to  seek  out  other  strange  phenomena,  and 
compare  them  all  together,  and  see  what  qualities  can  be  made  out 
of  them.  And  if  we  can  discover  them,  it's  probable  we  may  be 
let  into  a  New  World  of  Philosophy. 

"  17.  To  observe,  that  the  cause  why  Thunder,  that  is  a  great 
way  off,  will  sound  very  grum,  which  near,  is  very  sharp,  (as  well 
as  otlier  noises,  instances  of  which  are  to  be  given,)  is,  because  the 
farther  waves  of  air  go,  the  wider  they  grow,  and  farther  asunder, 
as  it  is  in  water  :  several  of  the  little  undulations,  by  travelling  near 
together,  incorporate  with  the  great  one. 

"  19.  To  obsene,  that  the  weight  of  the  descending  blood  in 
the  veins,  completely  answers  to  the  weight  of  the  ascending  blood 
in  the  arteries,  in  parts  above  the  heart ;  so  that  the  weight  of  one 
exactly  balances  the  weight  of  the  otlier ;  and  the  descending  blood 
in  the  veins,  pulls  up  the  blood  in  the  arteries,  and  the  weight  of 
blood  in  tlie  arteries,  restrains  the  impetuosity  of  the  descending 
blood  in  the  veins  ;  so  that  the  blood  in  both,  ascending  and  de- 
scending, runs  as  easily,  and  uniformly,  as  if  it  ran  all  the  while 
parallel  to  the  horizon.  So  in  the  parts  below  the  heart,  where 
the  arterial  blood  descends,  and  the  venal  ascends,  barely  the  weight 
of  the  blood  in  the  arteries,  is  sufficient  to  raise  the  blood  in  the 
veins  even  \^'ith  it,  as  high  as  the  beginning  of  the  arteries,  accord- 
ing to  the  law  of  Hydrostatics  ;  and  the  weight  of  the  blood  in  the 
veins,  restrains  the  motion  of  that  which  descends  in  the  arteries, 
so  that  the  blood  in  these  also  moves,  just  as  if  it  moved  in  a  plain, 
neither  up  nor  down  :  and  the  heart  has  no  more  labour,  to  impel 
the  blood  up  the  tiscending  trunk  of  the  Aorta,  nor  ease,  in  impel- 
ling it  down  the  descending  trunk,  than  if  it  ran  in  a  trunk  parallel 
to  the  horizon.  Neither  doth  the  blood  ascend  witli  more  difficul- 
ty, than  it  descends,  but  with  equal  facility,  both  in  arteries  and 
veins,  above  and  below  the  heart :  and  to  show  the  philosophy  of 
this. 

*'  22.  Relating  to  the  13th.  To  observe,  that  it  is  certain,  that 
the  stopping  of  one  sort  of  rays,  and  the  proceeding  of  others,  is 
not,  because  that  sort  of  rays  alone,  are  stopped  by  striking  against 
the  particles  of  the  medium,  from  this  experiment :  \'iz.  As  I  was 
under  the  trees,  1  observed,  that  the  light  of  the  sun  upon  the 
leaves  of  the  book  I  was  reading,  which  crept  through  the  crevices 
of  tlie  leaves  of  the  tree,  was  of  a  reddish,  purpled  colour;  which 
I  supposed  to  be,  because  many  of  {he  green  rays  were  taken  up 
l»v  the  leaves  of  the  tree,  and  left  all  die  rest  tainted  with  the  most 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  51 

opposite  colour,  which  could  be  no  otlierwise,  than  by  stopping 
those  green  rays,  which  passed  near  to  the  edges  of  the  leaves. 
N.  B.  That  the  light  of  the  Sun  in  this  case,  would  not  appear 
coloured,  except  the  crevices  through  which  the  rays  came,  were 
very  small. 

"  Corol.  1.  Hence  it  is  certain,  that  bodies  do  attract  the  same 
sort  of  rays  most  strongly,  which  they  reflect  most  strongly. 

"  Corol.  2.  Hence  bodies  do  atti'act  one  sort  of  rays,  more  than 
another. 

"  Corol.  3.  Hence  it  is  probable,  that  bodies  do  reflect,  and 
attract,  by  the  same  force,  because  that  they  both  attract  and  reflect, 
the  same  sort  of  ways. 

"  27.  It  appears,  that  the  single  particles  of  a  morning  fog,  are 
not  single  bubbles  of  water.  I  have  seen  a  frozen  fog — a  fog  of 
which  these  particles  were  all  frozen,  as  they  floated  in  the  air ; — 
which  were  all  Httle  stars,  of  six  points,  like  the  particles  of  snow, 
very  small,  and  were  not  joined  together,  many  of  them  into  one 
flake  as  in  snow,  but  floated  single,  and  at  a  little  distance  looked 
eveiy  whit  Hke  other  fog,  only  not  so  thick  as  other  fog  often  is, 
and  not  so  thick,  as  to  hinder  the  sun  from  shining  bright.  It  was 
evident,  that  it  was  not  a  fine  snow ;  for  it  was  otherwise  a  very 
clear  morning,  and  there  was  not  a  cloud  any  where  to  be  seen, 
above  the  horizon.  It  is  therefore  evident  that,  before  they  were 
frozen,  they  were  not  single  bubbles,  inasmuch  as  a  single  bubble 
will  not  make  one  of  these  stars." 

From  the  second  Series. 

"  1.  To  prove  the  Universe,  or  Starry  world,  one  Vast  Spheroid. 

"  2.  To  demonstrate,  that  all  the  matter,  which  is  without  the 
Spheroid,  is  so  disposed,  as  that  there  should  be  an  equal  attrac- 
tion on  all  sides,  and  so,  probably,  an  equal  quantity  of  matter. 

"  4.  To  show  the  shape  of  the  Spheroid  of  tlie  Universe,  by 
observation  of  the  Milky  Way,  and  to  know,  whereabout  our  Sys- 
tem is  in  it,  first,  with  respect  to  the  planes  of  the  greatest  circles, 
from  observations  of  the  ratio  of  the  brightness  of  the  opposite  sides, 
compounded  with  several  other  ratios — second,  with  respect  to 
the  latitude,  or  the  axis,  of  this  Spheroid,  by  obser\dng  how  much 
the  Milky  Way  differs  from  a  Great  circle. 

"5.  To  show  that  the  Starry  World  cannot  be  infinite,  because 
it  is  a  spheroid. 

"  6.  To  wTite  concerning  the  Lens  about  the  Sun. 

"  7.  To  ^mte  concerning  the  Distance  of  the  Sun,  by  obsen^a- 
tion  of  the  enlightened  part  of  the  moon,  when  exactly  in  quadrature. 

"  8.  To  write  concerning  tlie  use  of  Comets,  to  repair  the 
wastes  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 

"  9.  To  show  how  Infinite  Wisdom  must  be  exercised,  in  order 
that  Gravity  and  Motion  may  be  perfectly  harmonious ;  and  that, 


^  LIFE    Oi     PBESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

although  the  jumble  of  the  Epicureans  be  allowed  ;  although  it  be, 
in  fact,  impossible. 

"  10.  To  find  out  a  thousand  things,  by  due  observation  of  the 
Spheroid  of  the  Universe. 

"  14.  To  show  how  the  ^Motion,  Rest  and  Direction,  of  the  least 
Atom  has  an  influence  on  the  motion,  rest  and  direction  of  every 
body  in  the  Universe ;  and  to  show  how,  by  that  means,  every 
thing  w^hich  happens  with  respect  to  motes  or  straws,  and  such 
Httle  things,  may  be  for  some  great  uses  in  the  whole  course  of 
things,  tln'oughout  Eternity  ;  and  to  show  how  the  least  wrong 
step  in  a  mote,  may,  in  Eternity,  subvert  the  order  of  the  Uni- 
verse ;  and  to  take  notice,  of  the  great  wisdom  that  is  necessary, 
in  order  to  dispose  every  Atom  at  first,  so  as  that  they  should  go 
for  the  best  throughout  all  Eternity,  and  in  the  adjusting  by  an  ex- 
act computation,  and  a  nice  allowance  to  be  made  for  the  miracles 
which  should  be  needful,  and  other  ways,  whereby  the  course  of 
bodies  should  be  diverted.  And  then,  to  show  how  God,  who 
does  this,  must  necessarily  be  Oinniscieiit,  and  know  every  the 
1  east  thing,  that  must  happen  through  Eternity. 

"  36.  To  show,  if  I  think  fit,  how  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  very 
sensible,  that  all  spontaneous  enkindling,  was  from  a  certain  attrac- 
tion. 

"37.  To  show  that  it  is  not  only  highly  probable,  but  absolutely 
certain,  that  the  Fixed  Stars  are  so  many  Suns.  For  it  is  certain, 
in  the  first  place  that  they  do  shine  by  their  own  light,  and  not  by 
the  Sun's;  for,  although  we  don't  exactly  know  how  far  distant 
they  are,  yet  we  know  that  they  are  so  far  distant  at  least,  that  the 
annual  revolution  of  the  Earth  makes  no  sensible  alteration  in  tlieir 
position.  And  we  know  certainly  that  the  fight  of  the  Sun,  at  such 
a  distance,  will  be  no  more  than  about  as  much,  as  the  light  of  a 
Fixed  vStar  is  here.  (Let  any  body  calculate  and  see.)  And  now 
I  ask,  Whether  or  no  it  be  not  certain,  that  no  body  will  reflect  the 
light  of  another  body,  which  does  not  shine  upon  it  brighter,  than  a 
single  Fixed  Star  does  upon  the  Earfli,  so  much  as  to  cause  it  to 
shine,  with  its  reflected  light,  so  brightly  as  the  Fixed  Stars  do,  at 
such  a  distance. — And  then,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  certain  that 
thev  must  be  pretty  near  about  so  big.  And  thirdly,  it  is  certain 
that  they  must  shine  whh  as  bright  a  fight ;  or  else  they  would  ne- 
ver appear  so  bright,  at  such  a  distance.  This  we  may  also  be 
certain  of  by  calculation.  \Miich  three  things  are  all,  that  are 
needed  to  make  a  Sun. 

"  CoroJ.  1.  From  the  foregoing  :  That  our  Sun  is  a  Fixed  Star, 
is  as  certain,  as  that  any  one  particular  Star  in  the  heavens  is  one. 

"  Corol.  2.  It  is  as  probable  that  the  other  Fixed  Stars,  or  Suns, 
have  Systems  of  planets  about  them,  as  it  would  be  that  ours  had. 
to  one  who  had  seen  ac  Fixed  Star  or  Sun,  every  way  fike  it,  liav^ 
them. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARiXS.  OtJ 

*•  38.  To  bring  in,  if  tliere  happens  a  good  place  for  it,  that  it  is 
equally  probable  in  itself,  that  all  or  the  greatest  part  of  the  Uni- 
verse was  created,  at  the  time  of  the  Mosaic  Creation,  as  that  all, 
or  the  greatest  part  of  the  Universe  was  created  at  once,  at  any 
other  time." 

From  the  whole  collection^  it  is  obvious,  that  at  this  early  age 
he  had  conceived  the  design  of  WTiting  a  large  work,  which  was  to 
be  a  complete  Treatise  on  Natural  Philosophy  and  Natural  Histo- 
ry, including  Chemistry  and  Geology,  as  far  as  they  were  then 
known,  on  a  plan  entirely  his  own.  The  Philosophical  part  of  the 
work,  instead  of  taking  for  granted  what  had  hitherto  been  receiv- 
ed, was  to  rest  on  certain  fundamental  principles,  which  he  pro- 
ceeded to  establish.  The  Historical,  was  to  be  the  resuh,  as  far 
as  possible,  of  his  own  observations. 

The  Philosophical  reader,  on  perusing  the  13th  article  of  the  first 
series  of  "Things  to  be  considered,"  will  regard  it  as  a  singu- 
lar fact,  that  a  Youth  at  college,  more  than  a  century  ago,  from  ob- 
serving several  unaccountable  phenomena,  attending  the  refraction 
and  reflexion  of  light,  should  have  foretold,  that  the  discovery  of 
these  would  let  us  into  a  New^  World  of  Philosophy ;  that  he  should 
have  been  led  to  suggest,(as  in  57  of  2d  series,)  that  there  is  in  the 
atmosphere  some  other  ethereal  matter,  considerably  rarer  than  at- 
mospheric air;  that  he  should  (as  in  No.  71)  have  discov^ered  wa- 
ter to  be  a  compressible  fluid, — a  fact  not  communicated  to  the 
world  until  the  year  1763;  that  he  should  have  observed  the  fact, 
and  attempted  to  account  for  it,  (No.  77,)  that  w^ater  in  freezing 
loses  its  specific  gravity ;  and  that  he  should  have  expressed  doubts 
of  the  existence  of  frigorific  particles.  In  his  attempt  to  explain 
the  phenomena  of  Thunder  and  Lightning,  the  reader  w  ill  also 
perceive  that,  without  any  knowledge  of  the  electric  fluid,  and  long 
before  the  invention  of  the  Leyden  jar,f  he  rejected  the  then 
prevalent  theory  on  the  subject,  and  was  led  to  conclude  that 
Lightning  was  an  almost  infinitely  fine,  comhustihle,  fiuid  matter, 
that  fioats  in  the  air,  aid  that  takes  fire  by  a  sudden  and  mighty 
fermentation,  that  is  some  way  promoted  by  the  cool,  and  mots- 
hire,  and  perhaps  attraction,  of  the  clouds :  a  nearer  approximation 
to  the  theory  of  Franklin,  than  die  human  mind  had  ever  reached. 
His  Theory  of  Atoms  will  be  read  with  deep  interest,  as  will  bis 
demonstration  that  the  Fixed  Stars  are  Suns,  (No.  77,)  his  expla- 
nation of  the  Channels  of  rivers  and  their  branches,  (No.  45.)  of 
the  different  Refrangibility  of  the  rays  of  light,  (No.  46,)  of  tho 
growtli  of  Trees,  (No.  48,)  of  the  Process  of  Evaporation,  (No. 
57,)  of  the  Lever,  (No.  65,)  his  observations  on  Sound,  (No.  G6,) 


*  See  Appendix.  I,  t  The  Leyden  jar  was  invented  in  IT-I'V-. 


54  LIFE    0¥    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

on  Elasticity,  (No.  70,)  on  the  tendency  of  winds  Iroin  the  coa^t 
to  bring  rain,  (No.  75,)  and  on  the  cause  of  Colours,  (No.  81.) 

Every  part  of  the  work  will  be  found  to  evince  a  mind,  wholly 
original  and  inventive  in  its  observations,  and  discoveries,  in  all  the 
kingdoms  of  Nature ;  and  will  lead  to  the  conviction  that,  had  his 
hfe  been  devoted  to  these  pursuhs,  in  a  country  where  he  could  at 
once  have  availed  himself  of  the  discoveries  of  others,  and,  the  neces- 
sary instruments,  he  would  have  met  with  no  ordinary  success,  in 
extending  the  bounds  of  human  knowledge,  in  tlie  most  important 
and  interesting  fields  of  Physical  Science.  But  higher  objects  of 
contemplation,  and  investigations  of  a  more  elevated  nature,  now 
demanded  his  attention ;  and,  in  devoting  to  these  his  whole  intel- 
lectual and  moral  strength,  he  found  a  pleasure,  which  he  would 
not  have  derived  from  the  proudest  triumphs  of  Philosophical  dis- 
coverv. 


CHAPTER  V. 

Early  ReVigious  Productions. — '-^Miscellanies.''^ — ^' Xotes  on  the 
Scriptures^- — Early  Religions  Impressions. — His  Personal 
JVarrative. 

We  have  already  had  occasion  to  intimate,  that,  although  while 
a  member  of  College,  Edwards  paid  a  most  assiduous  and  successful 
attention  to  his  assigned  duties ;  and  particularly,  as  we  have  just 
seen,  to  the  study  of  Mental,  and  of  Physical,  Philosophy ;  yet  he 
still  found  time  for  pursuits  of  a  more  elevated  and  spiritual  cha- 
racter. His  whole  education  from  early  infancy,  and  the  counsels 
of  his  parents,  as  well  as  his  own  feelings,  prompted  him  to  these 
pursuits.  To  read  the  Bible  daily,  and  to  read  it,  in  connexion 
with  other  religious  books,  diligently  and  attentively  on  the  Sab- 
bath, was  made,  in  the  earher  days  of  New  England,  the  regular 
and  habitual  duty  of  every  child ;  and  his  father's  family,  though 
not  inattentive  to  the  due  cultivation  of  mind  and  manners,  had 
lost  none  of  the  strictness  or  conscientiousness,  which  charac- 
terized the  Pilgrims.  The  books,  which  he  found  in  his  father's 
library,  the  conversation  of  clergymen  often  resorting  to  the  house, 
the  custom  of  the  times,  as  well  as  the  more  immediate  influence 
of  parental  instruction  and  example,  naturally  prompted  a  mind, 
like  his,  to  the  early  contemplation,  and  investigation,  of  many  of  the 
principles  and  truths  of  Theology.  He  had  also  witnessed  in  his 
father's  congregation,  before  his  admission  to  College,  several  ex- 
tensive Re\avals  of  Religion ;  and  in  two  of  them,  the  impressions 
made  on  his  own  mind  had  been  unusually  deep  and  solemn.  The 
Name,  familiarly  given  by  the  plain  people  of  this  country  to  these 
events, — "  A  Rehgious  Attention,^''  and  "  A  General  Attention  to 
Religion," — indicates  their  nature;  and  those  personally  acquainted 
with  them  need  not  to  be  informed,  that  during  their  progress,  the 
great  truths  of  Religion,  as  taught  in  the  Scriptures,  and  as  ex- 
plained in  the  writings  of  Theologians,  becom.e  the  objects  of  ge- 
neral and  intense  interest,  and  of  close  practical  study;  or  that  the 
knowledge,  acquired  by  a  whole  people  at  such  a  time,  in  a  com- 
paratively little  period,  often  exceeds  the  acquisitions  of  many  pre- 
vious years.  With  all  these  things  in  view,  it  is  not  surprizing 
therefore,  that,  to  these  two  kinds  of  reading,  he  devoted  himself 
early,  v^ith  great  diligence  and  with  great  su.cces?. 


50  LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

T\\'0  ol  his  early  "  Resolutions^^  relate  to  this  subject  i 

^'Resolved,  When  I  think  of  any  Theorem  in  Divinity  to  be  sol*- 
\  ed,  immediately  to  do  what  I  can  towards  solving  it,  if  circum- 
stances do  not  hinder." 

^'Resolved,  To  stud)^  the  Scriptures  so  steadily,  constantly  and 
frequently,  as  that  I  may  find  and  plainly  perceive  myself  to  grow 
in  the  knowledge  of  the  same." 

On  the  8th  of  June,  1723,  he  also  proposes,  whenever  he  find^^ 
liimself  in  a  dull  listless  frame,  to  read  over  his  own  Remarks  and 
Reflections  of  a  Religious  nature,  in  order  to  quicken  him  in  his 
duty. 

These  Resolutions  plainly  e\ince  what  must  have  been,  for  a 
considerable  period,  the  habit  of  his  mind,  with  regard  to  both  sub- 
jects ;  and  the  manner,  in  which  he  speaks  of  his  "  Remarks  and 
Reflexions"  on  the  subject  of  Religion,  indicates  that,  at  that  time, 
they  were  considerably  numerous. 

They  were  so  in  fact.  The  first  manuscript  of  his  "  Miscella- 
nies" is  in  folio,  and  consists  of  forty-four  sheets  of  foolscap,  writ- 
ten separately,  and  stitched  tcgeflier  like  the  leaves  of  a  folio  book 
that  is  bound.  When  he  began  the  work,  he  had  obviously  no  sus- 
picion of  the  size  to  which  it  was  to  grow,  nor  had  he  formed  his 
ultimate  plan  of  arrangement.  He  headed  his  first  article,  "  Of 
holiness ;"  and  having  finished  it,  and  drawn  a  line  of  separation 
across  the  page,  he  commenced  the  second,  "  Of  Christ's  mediation 
and  satisfaction."  The  same  is  done  with  the  third  and  fourth.  The 
fifth  he  writes,  without  a  line  of  separation,  in  larger  letters, 
^^ Spiritual  Happiness. ^^  After  that,  the  subject  of  each  new  article 
is  printed,  or  written,  in  larger  letters.  His  first  article  was  wTitten 
on  the  second  page  of  a  loose  sheet  of  paper ;  and  having  written 
over  the  second,  third,  and  fourth  pages,  he  went  back  to  the  first. 
lie  began  to  number  his  articles  by  the  letters  of  the  Alphabet,  a, 
b,  c ;  and  having  gone  through,  he  commenced  with  a  double  Al- 
phabet, aa,  bb,  cc ;  when  this  was  finished,  finding  his  work  en- 
large, he  took  the  regular  numbers,  1,2,  3,  &£c.  and  this  plan,  both 
as  to  subjects  and  numbers,  is  afterwards  continued. 

The  beginning  of  the  work  is  written  in  a  remarkably  small* 
round  hand,  nearly  the  same  with  that  in  which  his  earliest  produc- 
tions are  written.  This  extends  through  about  the  first  150  arfi- 
cles,  and  is  soon  after  perceptibly  changed,  into  a  hand  somewhat 
more  formed  and  flowhig.  These  appear,  obviously,  to  have  been 
WTitten  during  the  last  years  of  his  College  fife,  and  the  two  years 
of  his  residence  at  College,  as  Bachelor  of  Arts.  Large  Extracts 
from  this  work  will  be  found  in  the  ensuing  volumes,  and  a  num- 


*  The  first  five  sheets  contain  from  105  to  115  Ihies  on  a  page  ;  each  line  av- 
eraging 30  words.  As  his  hand  changed,  he  gradually  diminished  the  numbcj 
'^>£  riiips  on  a  pat^e  to  about  60. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS^  57 

l>er  of  them  from  the  earlier  articles.  Such  are  the  Miscellaneous 
Observations,  and  the  Miscellaneous  Remarks,  in  the  Seventh  vol- 
ume, and  the  IMiscellanies  in  the  Ninth.  Li  these,  will  be  found 
many  of  his  most  original  and  most  profound  thoughts,  and  discus- 
sions, on  theological  subjects. 

His  regular  and  diligent  study  of  the  Sacred  ScrijTtures,  led  him 
early  to  discover,  that  they  opened  before  him  an  ahnost  boundless 
field  of  investigation  and  enquiry.  Some  passages,  he  found  to  be 
incorrectly  reiidered ;  many  were  very  obscure,  and  difficult  of  ex- 
planation ;  in  many,  there  were  apparent  inconsistencies  and  con- 
tradictions ;  many  had  been  long  employed,  as  proofs  of  doctrines 
and  principles,  to  which  they  had  no  possible  reference ;  the  words 
and  phrases,  as  well  as  the  sentiments  and  narratives,  of  one  part, 
he  saw  illustrated,  and  interpreted  those  of  another.  The  Old 
Testament  in  its  language,  history,  doctrines  and  worship,  in  its 
allusions  to  mamiers  and  customs,  in  its  prophecies,  types  and 
images,  he  perceived  to  be  introductory  and  explanatory  of  the 
New ;  while  the  New,  by  presenting  the  full  completion  of  the 
whole  plan  and  design  of  their  conmion  Author,  unfolded  the  real 
drift  and  bearing  of  every  part  of  the  Old.  Regarding  the  sacred 
volume  with  the  liighest  veneration,  he  appears  to  have  resolved, 
while  a  member  of  college,  that  he  would,  as  far  as  possible,  pos- 
sess himself,  in  every  part  of  it  which  he  read,  of  the  true  mean- 
ing of  its  Author.  With  this  \dew  he  commenced  his  Notes  on 
THE  Scriptures  ;  obviously  making  it  his  standing  rule.  To  study 
every  passage  which  he  read,  which  presented  the  least  difficulty 
to  his  own  mind,  or  wliich  he  had  known  to  be  regarded  as  diffi- 
cult by  others,  until  such  difficulty  was  satisfactorily  removed.  The 
result  of  liis  investigations,  he  regularly,  and  at  the  time,  commit- 
ted to  writing:  at  first,  in  separate  half  sheets,  folded  in  4to ;  but 
having  foimd  the  inconvenience  of  this,  in  his  other  juvenile  wTi- 
tings,  he  soon  formed  smah  pamphlets  of  sheets,  which  were  ulti- 
mately made  into  volumes.  A  few  of  the  articles,  to  the  number 
of  about  50,  appear  to  have  been  written  while  he  was  in  college ; 
the  rest,  while  preparing  for  the  ministry,  and  during  his  subse- 
quent fife.  That  he  had  no  suspicion  when  he  began,  of  the  size 
to  which  the  wOrk  would  grow^,  is  ob\dous ;  and  whether  he  after- 
wards formed  the  design  of  publishing  it,  as  an  Illustration  of  the 
more  difficult  and  obscure  passages  of  the  Bibles  perhaps  cannot 
be  determined  wdth  certainty.  A  few  of  the  articles  of  an  historical 
or  mythological  nature,  are  marked  as  quotations  from  the  \mtings 
of  others,^  and  are  omitted  in  the  present  edition  of  his  works. 
The  reader,  after  perusing  the  work,  will  be  satisfied  that  they  are 

*  With  the  exceptions  of  the  articles  here  referred  to,  the  reader  will  find,  in 
the  Ninth  volume,  the  whole  series  of  the  "■'Notes  on  the  Scriptures,"  arranged 
in  scriptural  order,  with  the  original  numbeis  o~f  each  article  retained. 

VoL.L  8 


^S  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  fruit  of  his  own  investigations;  and  that  his  mode  of  removing 
difficulties  was, — not  as  it  too  often  is,  by  disguising  or  mis-stating 
them,  but — by  giving  them  their  full  force,,  and  meeting  them  with 
fair  argument.  Perhaps  no  collection  of  Notes  on  the  Scriptures, 
so  entirely  original,  can  be  found.  From  the  number  prefixed  to 
each  Article,  it  will  be  found  easy  to  select  those  which  were  the 
residt  of  his  early  labours.  Such  a  plan  of  investigating  and  ex- 
plaining the  difficulties  of  the  Sacred  volume,  at  so  early  a  period 
of  life,  was  probably  never  formed,  in  any  other  instance,  and  evin- 
ces a  maturity  of  intellectual  and  moral  attainments,  not  often  par- 
alleled. Among  the  most  interesting  and  able  of  these  investiga- 
tions, will  be  found  the  discussion,  on  the  Sacrifice  of  the  daughter 
Jcjjhtha,  Judges  xi,  29 — 40 ;  and  that  on  the  principle  advanced 
by  Paul,  in  Romans  viii,  28,  That  all  things  work  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  God;  which,  as  being  contained  in  his  letter 
to  Mr.  Gillespie,  of  Sept.  4,  1T47,  is  omitted  in  the  Notes  on  the 
Scriptures. 

The  class,  of  which  Edwards  was  a  member,  finished  their  re- 
gular collegiate  course,  in  Sept.  1720,  before  he  was  seventeen 
years  of  age.  At  that  period,  and  for  a  long  time  afterwards,  the 
only  exercise,  except  the  Latin  Theses,  given,  at  the  pubhc  com- 
mencement, to  the  class  of  Bachelors,  was  the  Salutatory,  which 
was  also  a  Valedictory,  Oration  in  Latin.  This  exercise  was  a- 
warded  to  Edwards,  as  sustaining  the  highest  rank  as  a  scholar, 
among  the  members  of  the  class. 

I  have  heretofore  had  occasion  to  mention  the  early  religious  im- 
pressions made  upon  his  mind ;  particularly  during  two  seasons  of 
uncommon  attention  to  religion  in  his  father's  congregation — the 
first,  several  years  before,  tlie  second  only  one  year  before,  he 
went  to  college.  The  precise  period,  when  he  regarded  himself 
as  entering  on  a  religious  life,  he  no  where  mentions ;  nor  have  I 
found  any  record  of  the  time,  when  he  made  a  public  profession  of 
religion.  Even  the  church,  with  which  he  became  connected, 
would  not  certainly  be  known,  were  it  not  that,  on  one  occasion,  he 
alludes  to  himself,  as  a  member  of  the  church  in  East  Windsor. 
From  various  circumstances,  I  am  also  led  to  believe,  that  the  time 
of  his  uniting  himself  to  it,  was  not  far  from  the  time  of  his  leaving 
college.  Of  the  \iews  and  feelings  of  his  mind,  on  this  most  im- 
portant subject,  both  before  and  after  this  event,  we  have  a  brief 
but  most  satisfactory  and  instructive  account,  which  was  fomid 
among  his  papers  in  his  own  hand-writing,  and  which  was  wTitten 
near  twenty  years  afterwards,  for  his  own  private  benefit.  It  is  as 
follows : 

"  I  HAD  a  variety  of  concerns  and  exercises  about  my  soul,  from 
my  childhood ;  but  I  had  two  more  remarkable  seasons  of  awaken- 
ing, before  I  met  with  that  change,  by  which  I  was  brought  to  those 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  i59 

new  dispositions,  and  that  new  sense  of  things,  that  I  have  since 
had.  The  first  time  was  when  I  was  a  boy,  some  years  before  I 
w^ent  to  college,*  at  a  time  of  remarkable  awakening  in  my  father's 
congregation.  I  was  then  very  much  affected  for  many  months, 
and  concerned  about  the  things  of  rehgion,  and  my  soul's  salvation; 
and  was  abundant  in  religious  duties.  I  used  to  pray  five  times  a 
day  in  secret,  and  to  spend  much  time  in  religious  conversation 
with  other  boys ;  and  used  to  meet  with  them  to  pray  together.  I 
experienced  I  know  not  what  kind  of  delight  in  religion.  My 
mind  was  much  engaged  in  it,  and  had  much  self-righteous  pleas- 
ure ;  and  it  was  my  delight  to  abound  in  religious  duties.  I,  with 
some  of  my  school-mates,  joined  togetlier,  and  built  a  booth  in  a 
swamp,  in  a  very  retired  spot,  for  a  place  of  prayer.f — And  besides, 
I  had  particular  secret  places  of  my  own  in  the  woods,  where  I  used 
to  retire  by  myself;  and  was  from  tmie  to  time  much  affected.  My 
affections  seemed  to  be  lively  and  easily  moved,  and  I  seemed  to 
be  in  my  element,  when  engaged  in  religious  duties.  And  I  am 
ready  to  think,  many  are  deceived  with  such  affections,  and  such  a 
kind  of  delight  as  I  then  had  in  religion,  and  mistake  it  for  grace. 

"But,  in  process  of  time,  my  convictions  and  afiections  wore 
off;  and  I  entirely  lost  ah.  those  affections  and  delights,  and  left  off 
secret  prayer,  at  least  as  to  any  constant  preference  of  it ;  and  re- 
turned like  a  dog  to  his  vomit,  and  went  on  in  the  ways  of  sin.  In- 
deed, I  was  at  times  very  uneasy,  especially  towards  the  latter  part 
of  my  time  at  college ;  when  it  pleased  God,  to  seize  me  with  a 
pleurisy ;  in  which  he  brought  me  nigh  to  the  grave,  and  shook  me 
over  the  pit  of  hell.  And  yet,  it  was  not  long  after  my  recovery, 
before  I  fell  again  into  my  old  ways  of  sin.  But  God  would  not 
suffer  me  to  go  on  with  any  quietness ;  I  had  great  and  violent  in- 
ward struggles,  till,  after  many  conflicts  \\ith  wicked  inclinations, 
repeated  resolutions,  and  bonds  that  I  laid  myself  under  by  a  kind 
of  vows  to  God,  I  was  brought  wholly  to  break  off  all  former  wick- 
ed ways,  and  all  ways  of  known  outward  sin  ;  and  to  apply  m}^self 
to  seek  salvation,  and  practise  many  religious  duties ;  but  without 
that  kind  of  affection  and  delight  which  I  had  formerly  experienced. 
My  concern  now  wrought  more,  by  inward  struggles,  and  conflicts, 
and  self-reflections.  I  made  seeking  my  salvation,  the  main  busi- 
ness of  my  life.  But  yet,  it  seems  to  me,  I  sought  it  after  a  misera- 
ble manner ;  which  has  made  me  sometimes  since  to  question, 
whether  ever  it  issued  in  that  which  was  saving;  bemg  ready  to 
doubt,  w^hether  such  miserable  seeking  ever  succeeded.  I  was 
indeed  brought  to  seek  salvation,  in  a  manner  that  I  never  was  be- 
fore ;  I  felt  a  spirit  to  part  with  all  things  in  the  world,  for  an  inte- 

*As  he  entered  coHege  at  twelve  years  of  age,  this  was  probably  when  he  was 
seven  or  eight. 

+  The  place  where  the  booth  was  built,  is  known  at  East  Windsor. 


QiO  I^rtE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

rest  in  Christ.  My  concern  continued  and  prevailed,  with  many 
exercising  thoughts  and  inward  struggles ;  but  yet  it  never  seemed 
to  be  proper,  to  express  that  concern  by  the  name  of  terror. 

^'  From  my  childhood  up,  my  mind  had  been  full  of  objections 
against  the  doctrine  of  God's  sovereignt}^,  in  choosing  whom  he 
would  to  eternal  life,  and  rejecting  whom  he  pleased  ;  leaving  them 
eternally  to  perish,  and  be  everlastingly  tormented  in  hell.  It  used 
to  appear  like  a  horrible  doctrine  to  me.  But  I  remember  the  time 
very  well,  when  I  seemed  to  be  convinced,  and  fully  satisfied,  as 
to  this  sovereignty  of  God,  and  his  justice  in  thus  eternally  dispo- 
3ing  of  men,  according  to  his  sovereign  pleasure.  But  never  could 
give  an  account,  how,  or  by  what  means,  I  was  thus  convinced,  not 
in  the  least  imagining  at  the  time,  nor  a  long  time  after,  that  there 
was  any  extraordinary  influence  of  God's  Spirit  in  it;  but  only  diat 
now  I  saw  further,  and  my  reason  apprehended  the  justice  and 
reasonableness  of  it.  However,  my  mind  rested  in  it;  and  it  put 
an  end  to  all  those  cavils  and  objections.  And  there  has  been  a 
>vonderful  alteration  in  my  mind,  with  respect  to  the  doctrine  of 
God's  sovereignt}^  from  that  day  to  this  ;  so  that  I  scarce  ever  have 
found  so  much  as  the  rising  of  an  objection  against  it,  in  the  most 
absolute  sense,  in  God  shewing  mercy  to  wiiom  he  will  shew  mer^ 
cy,  and  hardening  whom  he  will.  God's  absolute  sovereignty  and 
justice,  with  respect  to  salvation  and  damnation,  is  what  my  mind 
seems  to  rest  assured  of,  as  much  as  of  any  thing  that  I  see  with 
my  eyes  ;  at  least  it  is  so  at  times.  But  I  have  often,  since  that 
first  conviction,  had  quite  another  kind  of  sense  of  God's  sovereign- 
ty than  I  had  then.  I  have  often  since  had  not  only  a  conviction, 
but  a  delightful  conviction.  The  doctrine  has  very  often  appeared 
exceedingly  pleasant,  bright,  and  sweet.  Absolute  sovereignty  is 
what  I  love  to  ascribe  to  God.     But  my  first  conviction  was  not  so. 

"The  first  instance,  that  I  remember,  of  that  sort  of  inward, 
sweet  delight  in  God  and  divine  things,  that  I  have  lived  much  in 
since,  was  on  reading  those  words,  1  Tim.  i.  17.  JVow  unto  the 
King  eternal,  immortal,  invisible,  the  only  wise  God,  he  honour  and 
glory  for  ever  and  ever,  Amen.  As  I  read  the  words,  there  came 
into  my  soul,  and  was  as  it  were  difRised  through  it,  a  sense  of  the 
glory  of  the  Divine  Being ;  a  new  sense,  quite  different  from  any 
thing  I  ever  experienced  before.  Never  any  words  of  Scripture 
seemed  to  me  as  these  words  did.  I  thought  with  myself,  how 
excellent  a  Being  that  was,  and  how  happy  1  should  be,  if  I  might 
enjoy  that  God,  and  be  rapt  up  to  him  in  heaven,  and  be  as  it 
were  swallowed  up  in  him  for  ever  !  I  kept  saying,  and  as  it  were 
singing,  over  these  words  of  scripture  to  myself ;  and  went  to  pray 
to  God  that  I  might  enjoy  him,  and  prayed  in  a  manner  quite  dif- 
ferent from  ^vhat  I  used  to  do ;  with  a  new  sort  of  affection.  But 
it  never  came  into  my  thought,  that  there  was  any  tiling  spiritual, 
^r  of  a  saving  nature  in  t^is, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  61 

"  From  about  that  time,  I  began  to  have  a  new  kind  of  appre- 
hensions and  ideas  of  Christ,  and  the  work  of  redemption,  and  the 
glorious  way  of  salvation  by  him.  An  inward,  sweet  sense  of  these 
things,  at  times,  came  into  my  heart;  and  my  soul  was  led  away  in 
pleasant  views  and  contemplations  of  them.  And  my  mind  was 
greatly  engaged  to  spend  my  time  in  reading  and  meditating  on 
Christ,  on  the  beauty  and  excellency  of  his  person,  and  the  lovely 
w^ay  of  salvation  by  free  grace  in  him.  I  found  no  books  so  de- 
lightful to  me,  as  those  that  treated  of  these  subjects.  Those  words 
Cant.  ii.  1.  used  to  be  abundantly  with  me,  I  am  the  Rose  of  Sha- 
ron, and  the  Lily  of  the  valleys.  The  words  seemed  to  me, 
sweetly  to  represent  the  loveliness  and  beauty  of  Jesus  Christ. 
The  whole  book  of  Canticles  used  to  be  pleasant  to  me,  and  I  used 
to  be  much  in  reading  it,  about  that  time ;  and  found,  from  time  to 
time,  an  inward  sw^eetness,  that  would  carry  me  away,  in  my  con- 
templations. This  I  know  not  how  to  express  otherw^ise,  than  by 
a  calm,  sweet  abstraction  of  soul  from  all  the  concerns  of  this 
w^orld  ;  and  sometimes  a  kind  of  vision,  or  fixed  ideas  and  imagina- 
tions, of  being  alone  in  the  mountains,  or  some  solitory  wilderness, 
far  from  all  mankind,  sweetly  conversing  with  Christ,  and  wrapt 
and  swallowed  up  in  God.  The  sense  I  had  of  divine  tilings, 
would  often  of  a  sudden  kindle  up,  as  it  were,  a  sweet  burning  in 
my  heart ;  an  ardour  of  soul,  that  I  know  not  how  to  express. 

"  Not  long  after  I  first  began  to  experience  these  things,  I  gave 
an  account  to  my  father  of  some  things  that  had  passed  in  my 
mind.  I  was  pretty  much  affected  by  the  discourse  w^e  had  to- 
gether ;  and  when  the  discourse  was  ended,  I  walked  abroad 
alone,  in  a  solitary  place  in  my  father's  pasture,  for  contemplation. 
And  as  I  was  walking  there,  and  looking  upon  the  sky  and  clouds, 
there  came  into  my  mind  so  sweet  a  sense  of  the  glorious  majesty 
and  grace  of  God,  as  I  know  not  how  to  express. — I  seemed  to 
see  them  both  in  a  sweet  conjunction  ;  majesty  and  meekness  join- 
ed together :  it  was  a  sweet,  and  gentle,  and  holy  majesty ;  and 
also  a  majestic  meekness ;  an  awful  sweetness ;  a  high,  and  great, 
and  holy  gentleness. 

"  After  this  my  sense  of  divine  things  gradually  increased,  and 
became  more  and  more  lively,  and  had  more  of  that  inward  sweet- 
ness. The  appearance  of  every  thing  was  altered ;  there  seemed 
to  be,  as  it  were,  a  calm,  sweet,  cast,  or  appearance  of  divine  glo- 
ry, in  almost  every  thing.  God's  excellency,  his  wisdom,  his  pu^ 
rity  and  love,  seemed  to  appear  in  every  thing  ;  in  the  sun,  moon 
and  stars;  in  the  clouds  and  blue  sky;  in  the  grass,  flowers, 
trees ;  in  the  water  and  all  nature ;  which  used  greatly  to  fix  my 
mind.  I  often  used  to  sit  and  view  the  moon  for  a  long  time  ;  and 
in  the  day,  spent  much  time  in  viewing  the  clouds  and  sky,  to  be- 
hold the  sweet  glory  of  God  in  these  things  :  in  the  meantime, 
singing  forth,  with  a  low  voice,  my  contemplations  of  the  Creator 


62  LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

and   Redeemer.     And  scarce  any  thing,  among  all  tlie  works  of 
nature,  was  so  sw^eet  to  me  as  thunder  and  lightning ;  formerly  no- 
thing had  been  so  terrible  to  me.     Before,  I  used  to  be  uncom- 
monly terrified  with  thunder,  and  to  be   struck  with  terror  when  I 
saw  a  thunder-storm  rising  ;  but  now,  on  the  contrary,  it  rejoiced 
me.    I  felt  God,  if  I  may  so  speak,  at  the  first  appearance  of  a  thun- 
der storm ;  and  used  to  take  the  opportunity,  at  such  times,  to  fix  my 
myself  in  order  to  view  the   clouds,  and  see  the  lightnings  play, 
and  hear  the  majestic   and  awful  voice   of  God's  thunder,  which 
oftentimes  was  exceedingly  entertaining,  leading  me  to  sweet  con- 
templations of  my  great  and  glorious  God.     While   thus  engaged, 
it  always  seemed  natural  for  me  to  sing,  or  chant  fortli  my  medita- 
tions ;  or,  to  speak  my  thoughts  in  soliloquies  with  a  singing  voice. 
"  I  felt  then  great  satisfaction,  as  to  my  good   estate  ;  but  that 
did  not  content  me.     I  had  vehement  longings  of  soul  after  God 
and  Christ,   and  after  more  holiness,  wherewith  my  heart  seemed 
to  be  full,  and  ready  to   break ;  which  often  brought  to   my  mind 
the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  Psal.  cxix.  28.     My  soul  breaketh  for 
the  longing  it  hath.     I  often  felt  a  mourning  and  lamentmg  in  my 
heart,  that  I  had  not  turned  to  God  sooner,  that  I  might  have  had 
more  time  to   grow  in  grace.     My  mind  was   greatly  fixed  on 
divine  things;  almost  perpetually  in  the  contemplation  of  them. 
I  spent  most  of  my  time  in  thinking  of  divine  things,  year  after 
year ;  often  walking   alone  in  the  woods,   and  solitary  places,  for 
meditation,  soliloquy,  and  prayer,  and  converse  with  God ;  and  it 
was  always  my  manner,  at  such  times,  to  sing  forth  my  contempla- 
tions.    I  was  almost  constantly  in  ejaculatory  prayer,  wherever  I 
was.     Prayer  seemed  to  be  natural  to  me,  as  the  breath  by  which 
the  inward  burnings  of  my  heart  had  vent.     The  delights  which  I 
now  felt  in  the  things  of  religion,  were  of  an  exceedingly  different 
kind  from  those  before-mentioned,  that  I  had  when   a  boy ;  and 
what  then  I  had  no  more  notion  of,  than  one  born  blind  has  of  pleas- 
ant and  beautiful  colours.     They  were  of  a  more  inward,  pure, 
soul-animating    and   refreshing    nature.     Those    former    delights 
never  reached  the  heart ;  and  did  not  arise  from   any  sight  of  the 
divine  excellency  of  the  things  of  God ;  or  any  taste  of  the  soul- 
satisfying  and  life-giving  good  there  is  in  them.* 


*The  remainder  of  this  account  will  be  found  on  a  subsequent  page. 


CHAPTER  VL 

Licensure, — Residence  in  JVew-Yorh. — Pe?'sonal  JVarrative  cou" 
tinned, — His  Seventy  Resolutions. 

He  resided  at  College  nearly  two  years,  after  he  took  his  first 
degree,  preparing  himself  for  the  work  of  the  ministry;  after 
which,  having  passed  the  customary  trials,  he  received  a  license  to 
preach."^  In  consequence  of  an  application  from  a  number  of 
ministers  in  New  England,  who  were  entrusted  to  act  in  behalf  of 
the  Presbyterians  in  New- York,  he  went  to  that  city  in  the  begin- 
ning of  August,  1722,  and  preached  there  with  gieat  acceptance, 
about  eight  months.  While  there  he  found  a  most  happy  residence 
in  the  house  of  a  Mrs  Smith ;  whom,  as  well  as  her  son  Mr.  John 
Smith,  he  regarded  as  persons  of  Lincommon  piety  and  purity  of 
life,  and  with  whom,  he  formed  a  very  near  and  intimate  christian 
friendship.  There  also,  he  found  a  considerable  number  of  per- 
sons, among  the  members  of  that  church,  exhibiting  the  same  cha- 
racter ;  with  whom  he  enjoyed,  in  a  high  degree,  all  the  pleasures 
and  advantages,  of  christian  intercourse.  His  personal  attach- 
ment to  them  became  strong  ;  and  their  interest  in  him,  as  a  man 
and  a  preacher,  was  such,  that  they  warmly  solicited  him  to  re- 
main with  them  for  life.  To  decline  their  candid  invitation,  was 
most  distressing  to  his  feelings ;  but,  on  account  of  the  smallness 
of  that  congregation,  and  some  peculiar  difficulties  which  attended 
it,  (the  nature  of  which,  I  have  not  discovered,)  he  did  not  think 
there  was  a  rational  prospect  of  answering,  fully,  the  great  end, 
which  he  had  proposed  to  himself,  in  his  profession,  by  his  settling 
there  as  their  minister.  After  a  most  painful  parting,  with  the  kind 
friends,  under  whose  hospitable  roof,  he  had  so  long  and  so  happily 
resided,  he  left  the  city,  on  Friday,  the  26th  of  April,  by  water, 
and  reached  his  father's  house,  on  Wednesday,  the  1st  of  May.-)- 
Here,  he  spent  the  summer,  in  close  study  ;  during  which,  he  was 
again  earnestly  requested,  by  the  congregation  in  New- York,  to  re- 


*  This  must  have  been  in  June,  or  July,  1722  several  months  before  he  was 
nineteen  years  of  age. 

t  It  is  amusing  to  observe  the  time  taken  up  in  this  voyage.  They  sailed 
from  New-York  on  Friday  morning,  and  put  in  at  W^estchester  for  the  night. 
Saturday  night  and  the  Sabbath,  were  passed  at  Saybrook ;  and  they  arrived 
at  Wethersfield,  on  Tuesday  evening.  Yet  the  voyage  is  mentioned  as  a  plea- 
sant one. 


64  LiIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

turn  to  that  city,  and  settle  among  them  ;  but  his  former  vieVv^ 
were  not  altered  ;  and,  therefore,  though  strongly  inclined  from 
his  own  feelings  to  gratify  them,  he  could  not  comply  with  their 
wishes. 

Probably,  in  no  part  of  his  life,  had  he  higher  advantage  for 
spiritual  contemplation  and  enjoyment,  than  in  the  period  just  men- 
tioned. He  w ent  to  New-York,  in  the  best  and  happiest  frame  of 
mind.  He  found  there  a  little  flock  of  Christ,  constrained  from  a 
sense  of  their  own  weakness,  to  "  dwell  together  in  unity,"  and  to 
feel  a  practical  sense  of  their  dependence  on  God.  He  w  as  in  the 
midst  of  a  family,  whose  daily  influence  served  only  to  refresh- 
and  to  sanctify.  He  had,  also,  much  leisure  for  religious  readingy 
meditation  and  prayer.  In  these  circumstances,  the  presence  of 
the  Comforter,  appears  to  have  been  a  daily  reality ;  the  evidence 
of  which,  he  found  in  that  purity  of  heart,  w  hich  enables  its  pos- 
sessor to  see  God,  in  the  peace  which  passeth  all  understanding, 
and  the  joy  with  which  the  stranger  intermeddleth  not.  His  ac- 
count of  this  subject,  is  contained  in  the  continuation  of  the  brief 
narrative  of  his  own  religious  history,  the  first  part  of  wliich,  is 
found  in  the  last  chapter,  and  is  as  follows : 

"  My  sense  of  divine  things  seemed  gradually  to  increase,  till  I 
went  to  preach  at  New- York ;  which  was  about  a  year  and  a  half 
after  they  began  ;  and  while  I  was  there,  I  felt  them  very  sensibly, 
in  a  much  higher  degree,  than  I  had  done  before.  My  longings 
after  God,  and  holiness,  were  much  increased.  Pure  and  hum- 
ble, holy  and  heavenly,  Christianity  appeared  exceedingly  amiable 
to  me.  I  felt  a  burning  desire  to  be,  in  every  thing,  a  complete 
christian ;  and,  conformed  to  the  blessed  image  of  Christ  ; 
and  that  I  might  live,  in  all  things,  according  to  tlie  pure, 
sweet  and  blessed  rules  of  the  gospel.  I  had  an  eager 
thirsting  after  progress  in  these  things;  which  put  me  upon 
pursuing  and  pressing  after  them.  It  was  my  continual  strife 
day  and  night,  and  constant  inquiry,  how  I  should  he  more  holy, 
and  live  more  holily,  and  more  becoming  a  child  of  God,  and  a 
disciple  of  Christ.  I  now  sought  an  increase  of  grace  and  holiness, 
and  a  holy  hfe,  with  much  more  earnestness,  than  ever  I  sought 
grace  before  I  had  it.  I  used  to  be  continually  examining  myself, 
and  studying  and  contriving  for  likely  ways  and  means,  how  I  should 
live  holily,  with  far  greater  dihgeiice  and  earnestness,  than  ever  I 
pursued  any  thing  in  my  life ;  but  yet  with  too  great  a  dependence 
on  my  ovv  n  strength ;  which  afterwards  proved  a  great  damage  to- 
me. My  experience  had  not  then  taught  me,  as  it  has  done  since, 
my  extreme  feebleness  and  impotence,  every  manner  of  way  ;  and 
the  bottomless  depths  of  secret  corruption  and  deceit,  there  was  in 
my  heart.  However,  I  went  on  with  my  eager  pursuit  after  move 
holiness,  and  conformity  to  Christ. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EEWARDS*  65 

"  The  heaven  I  desired  was  a  heaven  of  holiness  ;  to  be  witli 
God,  and  to  spend  my  eternity  in  divine  love,  and  holy  communion 
with  Christ.  My  mind  was  very  much  taken  up  with  contempla- 
tions on  heaven,  and  the  enjoyments  there ;  and  living  there  in  per- 
fect holiness,  humility  and  love  :  and  it  used  at  that  time  to  appear 
a  great  part  of  the  happiness  of  heaven,  that  there  the  saints  could 
express  their  love  to  Christ.  It  appeared  to  me  a  great  clog  and 
burden,  that  what  I  feh  within,  I  could  not  express  as  I  desired. 
The  inward  ardour  of  my  soul,  seemed  to  be  hindered  and  pent  up, 
and  could  not  freely  flame  out  as  it  would.  I  used  often  to  think, 
ho'v  Hi  heaven  this  principle  should  freely  and  fully  vent  and  ex- 
prr  s  itself.  Heaven  appeared  exceedingly  delightful,  as  a  world 
of  ove  ;  and  that  all  happiness  consisted  in  living  in  pure,  humble, 
heavenly,  divine  love. 

"  I  remember  the  thoughts  I  used  then  to  have  of  holiness  ;  and 
said  sometimes  to  myself,  "  I  do  certainly  know  that  I  love  holi- 
ness, such  as  the  gospel  prescribes."  It  appeared  to  me,  that 
there  was  nothing  in  it  but  what  was  ravishingly  lovely ;  the  high- 
est beauty  and  amiableness — a  divine  beauty  ;  far  purer  than  any 
thing  here  upon  earth  ;  and  that  every  thing  else  was  Hke  mire  and 
defilement,  in  comparison  of  it. 

"  Holiness,  as  I  then  wrote  do\vn  some  of  my  contemplations  on 
it,  appeared  to  me  to  be  of  a  sweet,  pleasant,  charming,  serene,  calm 
nature ;  which  brought  an  inexpressible  purity,  brightness,  peace- 
fulness  and  ravishment  to  the  soul.  In  other  words,  that  it  made 
the  soul  like  a  field  or  garden  of  God,  with  all  manner  of  pleasant 
flowers ;  enjoying  a  sweet  calm,  and  the  gently  vivifying  beams  of 
the  sun.  The  soul  of  a  true  christian,  as  I  then  WTote  my  medita- 
tions, appeared  like  such  a  little  white  flower  as  we  see  in  the 
spring  of  the  year ;  low  and  humble  on  the  ground,  opening  its  bo- 
som, to  receive  the  pleasant  beams  of  the  sun's  glory ;  rejoicing,  as 
it  were,  in  a  calm  rapture  ;  difilising  around  a  sweet  fragrancy ; 
standing  peacefully  and  lovingly,  in  the  amidst  of  other  flowers 
round  about ;  all  in  hke  manner  opening  their  bosoms,  to  drink 
in  the  light  of  the  sun.  There  was  no  part  of  creature-holiness, 
that  I  had  so  a  great  a  sense  of  its  loveliness,  as  humility,  broken- 
ness  of  heart  and  poverty  of  spirit ;  and  there  was  nothing  that  I 
so  earnestly  longed  for.  JVIy  heart  panted  after  this — to  lie  low 
before  God,  as  in  the  dust ;  that  I  might  be  nothing,  and  that  God, 
might  be  all,  that  I  might  become  as  a  httle  child. 

"  While  at  New  York,  I  sometimes  was  much  affected  with  re- 
flections on  my  past  life,  considering  how  late  it  was  before  I  begcn 
to  be  truly  rehgious  ;  and  how  wickedly  I  had  lived  till  then :  and 
once  so  as  to  weep  abundantly,  and  for  a  considerable  time  to- 
gether. 

"  On  January  12,  1723,  I  made  a  solemn  dedication  of  myself 
to  God,  and  wrote  it  down  ;  eiving  up  mvself,  and  all  that  I  had  to 
Vol.  I.  ^0 


66  L5FE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Ood ;  to  be  for  the  future,  in  no  respect,  my  own ;  to  act  as  one 
that  had  no  right  to  himself,  in  any  respect.  And  solemnly  vow- 
ed, to  take  God  for  my  whole  portion  and  felicity ;  looking  on  no- 
thing else,  as  any  part  of  my  happiness,  nor  acting  as  if  it  were ; 
and  his  law  for  the  constant  rule  of  my  obedience  :  engaging  to 
fight,  with  all  my  might,  against  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil, 
to  the  end  of  my  life.  But  I  have  reason  to  be  infinitely  humbled, 
when  I  consider,  how  much  I  have  failed,  of  answering  my  obli- 
gation. 

"  I  had,  then,  abundance  of  sweet,  religious  conversation,  in  the 
family  where  I  lived,  with  Mr.  John  Smith,  and  his  pious  mother. 
My  heart  was  knit  in  afiection,  to  those,  in  whom  were  appearances 
of  true  piety ;  and  I  could  bear  the  thoughts  of  no  other  compan- 
ions, but  such  as  were  holy,  and  the  disciples  of  the  blessed  Jesus. 
I  had  great  longings,  for  the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom  in 
the  world  ;  and  my  secret  prayer  used  to  be,  in  great  part,  taken 
up  in  praying  for  it.  If  I  heard  the  least  hint,  of  any  thing  that 
happened,  in  any  part  of  the  world,  that  appeared,  in  some  respect 
or  other,  to  have  a  favourable  aspect,  on  the  interests  of  Christ's 
kingdom,  my  soul  eagerly  catched  at  it ;  and  it  would  much  ani- 
mate and  refresh  me.  I  used  to  be  eager  to  read  public  news-let- 
ters, mainly  for  that  end ;  to  see  if  I  could  not  find  some  news,  fa- 
vourable to  the  interest  of  religion  in  the  world. 

"  I  very  frequently  used  to  retire  into  a  solitar}''  place,  on  the 
banks  of  Hudson's  River,  at  some  distance  from  the  cit>^,  for  con- 
templation on  divine  tilings  and  secret  converse  with  God :  and  had 
many  sweet  hours  there.  Sometimes  Mr.  Smith  and  I  walked 
there  together,  to  converse  on  the  things  of  God ;  and  our  conver- 
sation used  to  turn  much  on  the  advancement  of  Christ's  kingdom 
in  the  world,  and  the  glorious  things  that  God  would  accomplish 
for  his  church  in  the  latter  days.  I  had  then,  and  at  other  times, 
the  greatest  delight  in  the  holy  scriptures,  of  any  book  whatsoever. 
Oftentimes  in  reading  it,  every  word  seemed  to  touch  my  heart. 
I  felt  a  harmony  between  something  in  my  heart,  and  those  sw^eet 
and  pow^erful  words.  I  seemed  often  to  see  so  much  light  exhibit- 
ed by  every  sentence,  and  such  a  refreshing  food  communicated, 
that  I  could  not  get  along  in  reading ;  often  dwelling  long  on  one 
sentence,  to  see  the  wonders  contained  in  it;  and  yet  almost  every 
sentence  seemed  to  be  full  of  wonders. 

"I  came  away  from  New  York  in  the  month  of  April,  1723, 
and  had  a  most  bitter  parting  with  Madam  Smith  and  her  son. 
My  heart  seemed  to  sink  within  me,  at  leaving  the  family  and  city, 
where  I  had  enjoyed  so  many  sw^eet  and  pleasant  days.  I  went 
from  New  York  to  Wethersfield,  by  water ;  and  as  I  sailed  aw^ay, 
I  kept  sight  of  the  city  as  long  as  I  could.  However,  that  night 
after  this  sorrowful  parting,  I  was  greatly  comforted  in  God  at 
Westchester,  where  we  went  ashore  to  lodge  :   and  had  a  pleasant 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  07 

time  of  it  all  the  voyage  to  Saybrook.  It  was  sweet  to  me  to  think 
of  meeting  dear  christians  in  heaven,  where  we  should  never  part 
more.  At  Saybrook  we  went  ashore  to  lodge  on  Saturday,  and 
there  kept  the  Sabbath ;  where  I  had  a  sweet  and  refreshing  sea- 
son, walking  alone  in  the  fields. 

"After  I  came  home  to  Windsor,  I  remained  much  in  a  like 
frame  of  mind,  as  when  at  Ncav  York ;  only  sometimes  I  felt  my 
heart  ready  to  sink,  with  the  thoughts  of  my  friends  at  New  York. 
My  support  w  as  in  contemplations  on  the  heavenly  state ;  as  I  find 
in  my  Diary  of  IVIay  1,  1723.  It  was  a  comfort  to  tliink  of  that 
state,  where  there  is  fulness  of  joy;  where  reigns  heavenly,  calm, 
and  delightful  love,  without  alloy ;  where  there  are  continually  the 
dearest  expressions  of  this  love ;  where  is  the  enjoyment  of  the 
persons  loved,  without  ever  parting ;  where  those  persons  who  ap- 
pear so  lovely  in  this  world,  will  really  be  inexpressibly  more  love- 
ly, and  full  of  love  to  us.  And  how  sweetly  will  the  mutual  lovers 
join  together,  to  sing  the  praises  of  God  and  the  Lamb  !  How  will 
it  fill  us  with  joy  to  think,  that  this  enjoyment,  these  sweet  exerci- 
ses, will  never  cease,  but  will  last  to  all  eternity." 

During  his  preparation  for  the  ministry,  his  residence  in  New 
York,  and  his  subsequent  residence  at  his  father's  house,  he  formed 
a  series  of  RESOLUTIONS,  to  the  number  of  Seventy,  intended 
obviously  for  himself  alone,  to  regulate  his  own  heart  and  fife  ;  but 
fitted  also  from  their  christian  simphcity,  and  spiritnal-mindedness,  to 
be  eminently  useful  to  others.  Of  these,  the  first  thirty-four*  were 
written  before  Dec.  18,  1722,  the  time  in  which  his  Diary,  as  it 
now  exists,  commences.  The  particular  time  and  occasion  of 
making  many  of  the  rest,  will  be  found  in  that  most  interesting 
narrative ;  in  which  also  are  many  other  rules  and  resolutions  in- 
tended for  the  regulation  of  his  own  affections,  of  perhaps  equal 
excellence.  It  should  be  remembered  that  they  were  all  wiitten 
before  he  was  twenty  years  of  age.f  As  he  was  w-holly  averse  to 
all  profession  and  ostentation ;  and  as  these  Resolutions  themselves 
were  plainly  intended  for  no  other  eye  than  his  own,  except  the 
eye  that  is  omniscient ;  they  may  be  justly  considered  as  the  basis 
of  his  conduct  and  character ;  the  plan  by  which  he  governed  the 
secret,  as  well  as  the  public,  actions  of  his  life.  As  such  they  will 
deeply  interest  the  reader,  not  only  as  they  unfold  the  inmost  mind 
of  their  author,  but  as  they  also  show,  in  a  manner  most  striking 
and  convincing  to  the  conscience,  what  is  the  true  foundation  of 
great  and  distinguished  excellence. 

*  The  first  twenty-one  were  written  at  once,  with  tlie  same  pen  ;  as  were 
the  next  ten,  at  a  subsequent  sitting.  The  rest  were  written  occasionally. 
They  are  all  on  two  detached  pieces  of  paper. 

t  The  last  was  written  in  August,  172S.  The  whole  series  is  published  now 
for  the  first  time. 


68  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

He  was  too  well  acquainted  with  human  weakness  and  frailtj, 
even  where  the  intentions  are  most  sincere,  to  enter  on  any  Fcso- 
lutions  rashly,  or  from  a  reliance  on  his  own  strength.  He,  -h'  re- 
fore,  m  the  outset,  looked  to  God  for  aid,  who  alone  can  i'ord 
success  in  the  use  of  the  best  means,  and  in  the  intended  accom- 
plishment of  the  best  purposes.  This  he  places  at  the  head  of  all 
his  other  important  rules,  that  his  whole  dependence  was  on  the 
grace  of  God,  while  he  still  proposes  to  recur  to  a  frequent  ;md 
serious  perusal  of  them,  in  order  that  they  might  become  the  ha- 
bitual directory  of  his  life. 

RESOLUTIONS. 

"  Being  sensible  that  I  am  unable  to  do  any  thing  without  God's 
help,  I  do  humbly  entreat  hun  by  his  grace,  to  enable  me  to  keep 
these  Resolutions,  so  far  as  they  are  agreeable  to  his  will,  for 
Christ's  sake. 

Remember  to  read  over  these  Resolutions  once  a  week. 

1 .  Resolved,  That  /  will  do  whatsoever  I  think  to  be  most  to  the 
glory  of  God  and  my  own  good,  profit  and  pleasure,  in  the  whole 
of  my  duration ;  without  any  consideration  of  the  time,  whether 
now,  or  never  so  many  mjaiads  of  ages  hence.  Resolved  to  do 
whatever  I  think  to  be  my  duty,  and  most  for  the  good  and  ad- 
vantiige  of  mankind  in  general.  Resolved,  so  to  do,  whatever 
difficulties  I  meet  with,  how^  many  soever,  and  how  great  soever. 

2.  Resolved,  To  be  continually  endeavouring  to  find  out  some 
new  contrivance,  and  invention,  to  promote  the  forementioned 
things. 

3.  Resolved,  If  ever  I  shall  fall  and  grow  dull,  so  as  to  neglect 
to  keep  any  part  of  these  Resolutions,  to  repent  of  all  I  can  re- 
member, when  I  come  to  myself  again. 

4.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  manner  of  thing,  whether  in  soul 
or  body,  less  or  more,  but  what  tends  to  the  glory  of  God,  nor  he, 
nor  sujfer  it,  if  1  can  possibly  avoid  it. 

5.  Resolved,  Never  to  lose  one  moment  of  time,  but  to  improve 
it  in  the  most  profitable  v.  ay  I  possibly  can. 

6.  Resolved,  To  live  with  all  my  might,  while  I  do  live. 

7.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  anything,  which  I  should  be  afraid  to 
do,  if  it  were  the  last  hour  of  my  life. 

8.  Resolved,  To  act,  in  all  respects,  both  speaking  and  doing, 
as  if  nobody  had  been  so  vile  as  I,  and  as  if  I  had  committed  the 
same  sins,  or  had  the  same  infirmities  or  failings  as  others;  and 
that  I  \Aill  let  the  knowledge  of  their  failings  promote  nothing  but 
shame  in  myself,  and  prove  only  an  occasion  of  my  confessing  my 
own  sins  and  misery  to  God.      Vid.  July  30. 

9.  Resolved,  To  think  much,  on  all  occasions,  of  my  own  dying, 
and  of  the  common  cuTumstances  wliich  attend  death. 


ilFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  60 

10.  Resolved,  When  I  feel  pain,  to  think  of  the  pains  of  Mar- 
tyrdom, and  of  Hell. 

1 1 .  Resolved,  When  I  think  of  any  Theorem  in  divinity  to  be 
.•solved,  immediately  to  do  what  I  can  towards  solving  it,  ii  circum- 
stances do  not  hinder. 

12.  Resolved,  If  I  take  dehght  in  it  as  a  gratification  of  pride, 
or  vanit}",  or  on  any  such  account,  immediately  to  throw  it  by. 

13.  Resolved,  To  be  endeavouring  to  lind  out  fit  objects  of 
charity  and  Hberality.  • 

14.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  thing  out  of  Revenge. 

15.  Resolved,  Never  to  suffer  the  least  motions  of  anger  to- 
wards irrational  beings. 

16.  Resolved,  Never  to  speak  evil  of  any  one,  so  that  it  shall 
tend  to  his  dishonour,  more  or  less,  upon  no  account  except  for 
some  real  good. 

17.  Resolved,  That  I  will  live  so,  as  I  shall  wish  I  had  done 
when  I  come  to  die. 

18.  Resolved,  To  hve  so,  at  all  times,  as  I  think  is  best  in  my 
most  devout  firames,  and  when  I  have  the  clearest  notions  oi  the 
things  of  the  Gospel,  and  another  world. 

19.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  thing,  which  I  should  be  afraid 
to  do,  if  I  expected  it  would  not  be  above  an  hour,  before  I  should 
hear  tlie  last  tiump. 

20.  Resolved,  To  maintain  the  strictest  temperance,  in  eating 
and  drinking. 

21.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  thing,  which,  if  I  should  see  in 
another,  I  should  count  a  just  occasion  to  despise  him  for,  or  to 
think  any  way  the  more  meanly  of  him. 

22.  Resolved,  To  endeavour  to  obtain  for  myself  as  much  hap- 
piness, in  the  other  world,  as  I  possibly  can,  with  all  the  power, 
might,  vigour,  and  vehemence,  yea  violence,  I  am  capable  of,  or 
can  bring  myself  to  exert,  in  any  way  that  can  be  thought  of. 

23.  Resolved,  Frequently  to  take  some  deliberate  action,  which 
seems  most  unlikely  to  be  done,  for  the  glory  of  God,  and  trace  it 
back  to  the  original  intention,  designs  and  ends  of  it ;  and  if  I  find 
it  not  to  be  for  God's  glory,  to  repute  it  as  a  breach  of  the  fourth 
Resolution. 

24.  Resolved,  Whenever  I  do  any  conspicuously  evil  action,  to 
trace  it  back,  till  I  come  to  the  original  cause  ;  and  then,  both  care- 
fully endeavour  to  do  so  no  more,  and  to  fight  and  pray  with  all 
my  might  against  the  original  of  it. 

25.  Resolved,  To  examine  carefully,  and  constantly,  what  that 
one  thing  in  me  is,  which  causes  me  in  the  least  to  doubt  of  the 
love  of  God ;  and  to  direct  all  my  forces  against  it. 

26.  Resolved,  To  cast  away  such  things,  as  I  find  do  abate  my 
assurance. 

27.  Resolved,  Never  wilfully  to   omit   any  thing,  except  the 


75  L.1FE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

omission  be  for  the  glory  of  God ;  and  frequently  to  examine  my 
omjssions. 

28.  Resolved,  To  study  the  Scriptures  so  steadily,  constantly 
and  frequently,  as  that  I  may  lind,  and  plainly  perceive  myself  to 
grow  in  the  knowledge  of  the  same. 

29.  Resolved,  Never  to  count  that  a  prayer,  nor  to  let  that  pass 
as  a  prayer,  nor  that  as  a  petition  of  a  prayer,  which  is  so  made, 
that  I  cannot  hope  that  God  will  answer  it ;  nor  that  as  a  confes- 
sion, which  I  cannot  hope  God  will  accept. 

30.  Resolved,  To  strive,  every  week,  to  be  brought  higher  in 
Religion,  and  to  a  higher  exercise  of  grace,  than  I  was  the  week 
before. 

31.  Resolved,  Never  to  say  any  thing  at  all  against  any  body, 
but  when  it  is  perfectly  agreeable  to  the  highest  degree  of  christian 
honom*,  and  of  love  to  mankind,  agreeable  to  the  lowest  humility^ 
and  sense  of  my  own  faults  and  failings,  and  agreeable  to  the  Gol- 
den Rule  ;  often,  vdien  I  have  said  any  thing  against  any  one,  to 
bring  it  to,  and  try  it  strictly  by  the  test  of  this  Resolution. 

32.  Resolved,  To  be  strictly  and  firmly  faithful  to  my  trust,  that 
that,  in  Prov.  xx,  6,  A  faithful  man,  who  can  find?  may  not  be 
partly  fulfilled  in  me. 

33.  Resolved,  To  do,  always,  what  I  can  towards  maldng,  main- 
taining and  preserving  peace,  when  it  can  be  done  \\athout  an  over- 
balancing detriment  in  other  respects.     Dec.  26,  1722. 

34.  Resolved,  In  narrations,  never  to  speak  any  thing  but  the 
pure  and  simple  verity. 

35.  Resolved,  Whenever  I  so  much  question  whether  I  have 
done  my  duty,  as  that  my  quiet  and  calm  is  thereby  disturbed,  to  set 
it  do\Mi,  and  also  how  the  question  was  resolved.     Dec.  18,  1722. 

36.  Resolved,  Never  to  speak  evil  of  any,  except  I  have  some 
particular  good  call  to  it.     Dec.  19,  1722. 

37.  Resolved,  To  enquire  every  night,  as  I  am  going  to  bed, 
Wherein  1  have  been  negligent, — What  sin  I  have  committed, — and 
wherein  I  have  denied  myself; — also,  at  the  end  of  every  week, 
month  and  year.     Dec.  22  and  26,  1722. 

38.  Resolved,  Never  to  utter  any  thing  tliat  is  sportive,  or  mat- 
ter of  laughter,  on  a  Lord's  day.    Sabbath  evening,  Dec.  23,  1722. 

39.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  thing,  of  which  I  so  much  ques- 
tion the  lawfulness,  as  that  I  intend,  at  the  same  time,  to  consider 
and  examine  afterwards,  whether  it  be  lawful  or  not ;  unless  I  as 
much  question  the  lawfulness  of  the  omission. 

40.  Resolved,  To  enquire  every  night,  before  I  go  to  bed, 
whether  I  have  acted  in  the  best  way  I  possibly  could,  witli  respect 
to  eating  and  drinking.     Jan.  7,  1723. 

41.  Resolved,  To  ask  myself,  at  the  end  of  every  day,  week, 
month  and  year,  wherein  I  could  possibly,  in  any  respect,  have 
done  better.     Jan.  11,  1723. 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWAftD^;.  71 

42.  Resolved,  Frequently  to  renew  the  dedication  of  myself  to 
God,  which  was  made  at  my  haptlsm,  which  I  solemnly  renewed, 
when  I  was  received  into  the  communion  of  the  church,  and  which 
I  have  solemnly  re-made  this  12th  day  of  January,  1723. 

43.  Resolved,  Never,  henceforward,  till  I  die,  to  act  as  if  I 
were  any  way  my  own,  hut  entirely  and  altogether  God's ;  agreea- 
hly  to  what  is  to  be  found  in  Saturday,  Jan.  12th.  Jan.  12th, 
1723. 

44.  Resolved,  That  no  other  end  but  religion,  shall  have  any 
influence  at  all  on  any  of  my  actions  ;  and  that  no  action  shall  be, 
in  the  least  circumstance,  any  otherwise  than  the  religious  end  will 
carry  it.     Jan.  12,  1723. 

45.  Resolved,  Never  to  allow  any  pleasure  or  grief,  joy  or  sor- 
row, nor  any  affection  at  all,  nor  any  degree  of  affection,  nor  any 
circumstance  relating  to  it,  but  what  helps  Religion.  Jan.  12  and 
13,  1723. 

46.  Resolved,  Never  to  allow  the  least  measure  of  any  fretting 
or  uneasiness  at  my  father  or  mother.  Resolved,  To  suffer  no 
effects  of  it,  so  much  as  in  the  least  alteration  of  speech,  or  motion 
of  my  eye  ;  and  to  be  especially  careful  of  it  with  respect  to  any  of 
our  family. 

47.  Resolved,  To  endeavour,  to  my  utmost,  to  deny  whatever  is 
not  most  agreeable  to  a  good  and  universally  sweet  and  benevolent, 
quiet,  peaceable,  contented  and  easy,  compassionate  and  generous, 
humble  and  meek,  submissive  and  obliging,  diligent  and  industrious, 
charitable  and  even,  patient,  moderate,  forgi\dng  and  sincere,  tem- 
per ;  and  to  do,  at  all  times,  what  such  a  temper  would  lead  me 
to;  and  to  examine  strictly,  at  the  end  of  every  w^eek,  whether  I 
have  so  done.     Sabbath  Morning,  May  5,  1723. 

48.  Resolved,  Constantly,  with  the  utmost  niceness  and  dili- 
gence, and  the  strictest  scrutiny,  to  be  looking  into  the  state  of  my 
soul,  that  I  may  know  whether  I  have  truly  an  interest  in  Christ  or 
not ;  that  when  I  come  to  die,  I  may  not  have  any  negligence  re- 
specting this,  to  repent  of.     May  26,  1723. 

49.  Resolved,  That  this  never  shall  be,  if  I  can  help  it. 

50.  Resolved,  That  I  will  act  so,  as  I  think  I  shall  judge  would 
have  been  best,  and  most  prudent,  when  I  come  into  die  future 
world.     July  5,  1723. 

51.  Resolved,  That  I  will  act  so,  in  every  respect,  as  I  think  I 
shall  wish  I  had  done,  if  I  should  at  last  be  damned.     July  8, 1723. 

52.  I  frequently  hear  persons  in  old  age,  say  how  they  would 
live,  if  they  were  to  live  their  lives  over  again  :  Resolved,  That  I 
will  live  just  so  as  I  can  think  I  shall  wish  I  had  done,  supposing  I 
live  to  old  age.     July  8,  1723. 

53.  Resolved,  To  improve  every  opportunity,  when  I  am  in  the 
best  and  happiest  frame  of  mind,  to  cast  and  venture  my  soul  on 
the  \jOyA  Jesus  Christ,  to  truBt  and  confide  in  him,  and  consecrate 


72  LIFE    OF    PllESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

myself  wholly  to  him  ;  that  from  this  I  may  have  assurance  of  my 
safety,  knowing  that  I  confide  in  my  Redeemer.     July  8,  1723. 

54.  Resolved,  Whenever  I  hear  any  thing  spoken  in  commen- 
dation of  any  person,  if  I  think  it  would  be  praiseworthy  in  me, 
that  I  will  endeavour  to  imitate  it.     July  8,  1723. 

55.  Resolved,  To  endeavour,  to  my  utmost,  so  to  act,  as  I  can 
tliink  I  should  do,  if  I  had  already  seen  the  happiness  of  Heaven, 
and  Hell  torments.     July  8,  1723. 

56.  Resolved,  Never  to  give  over,  nor  in  the  least  to  slacken, 
my  fight  with  my  corruptions,  however  unsuccessful  I  may  be. 

57.  Resolved,  When  I  fear  misfortunes  and  adversity,  to  exa- 
mine whether  I  have  done  my  duty,  and  resolve  to  do  it,  and  let 
the  event  be  just  as  Pro\idence  orders  it.  I  will,  as  far  as  I  can, 
be  concerned  about  nothing  but  my  duty,  and  my  sin.  June  9, 
and  July  13,  1723. 

58*  Resolved,  Not  only  to  refrain  from  an  air  of  dishke,  fretful- 
ness,  and  anger  in  conversation,  but  to  exhibit  an  air  of  love,  cheer- 
fulness and  benignity.     May  21,  and  July  13,  1723. 

59.  Resolved,  When  I  am  most  conscious  of  provocations  to  ill- 
nature  and  anger,  that  I  will  strive  most  to  feel  and  act  good-natur- 
edly; yea,  at  such  times,  to  manifest  good-nature,  though  I  think 
that  in  other  respects  it  would  be  disadvantageous,  and  so  as  would 
be  imprudent  at  other  times.     May  12,  July  11,  and  July  13. 

60.  Resolved-^  Whenever  my  feelings  begin  to  appear  in  the 
least  out  of  order,  when  I  am  conscious  of  the  least  uneasiness 
within,  or  the  least  irregularity  without,!  will  then  subject  myself  to 
the  strictest  examination.     July  4,  and  13,  1723. 

61.  Resolved,  That  I  will  not  give  way  to  that  lisdessness  which 
1  find  unbends  and  relaxes  my  mind  from  being  fully  and  fixedly 
set  on  religion,  whatever  excuse  I  may  have  for  it — that  what  my 
listlessness  inclines  me  to  do,  is  best  to  be  done,  &ic.  May  21 ,  and 
July  13,  1723. 

62.  Resolved,  Never  to  do  any  thing  but  my  duty,  and  then  ac- 
cording to  Eph.  vi,  6 — 8,  to  do  it  wiUingly  and  cheerfully,  as  unto 
the  Lord,  and  not  to  man  :  knowing  that  whatever  good  thing  any 
man  doth,  the  same  shall  he  receive  of  the  Lord.  June  25,  and 
July  13,  1723. 

63.  On  the  supposition,  that  there  never  was  to  be  but  one  indi- 
vidual in  the  world,  at  any  one  time,  who  was  properly  a  complete 
christian,  in  all  respects  of  a  right  stamp,  having  Christianity  always 
shining  in  its  true  lustre,  and  appearing  excellent  and  lovely,  from 
whatever  part  and  under  wdiatever  character  viewed :  Resolved,  To 
act  just  as  I  would  do,  if  I  strove  with  all  my  might  to  be  that  one. 
who  should  live  in  my  time.     Jan.  14,  and  July  13,  1723. 

64.  Resolved,  When  I  find  those  ^^  groanings  which  cannot  be 
uttered,^^  of  which  the  Aposde  speaks,  and  those  "  breakings  of 
sold  for  the  longing  it  hath,"  of  which  the  Psalmist  speaks,  Psalm 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDAVARDS.  73 

^ixix,  20,  That  I  will  promote  them  to  the  utmost  of  my  power, 
and  that  I  \\ill  not  be  v.eary  of  earnestly  endeavouring  to  vent  my 
desires,  nor  of  the  repetitions  of  such  earnestness.  July  23,  anA  Au- 
gust 10,  1723. 

65.  Resolved^  Very  much  to  exercise  myself  in  this,  all  my  life 
long,  viz.  With  the  greatest  openness,  of  which  I  am  capable,  to  de- 
clare my  W^ays  to  God,  and  lay  open  my  soul  to  him,  all  my  sins, 
temptations,  difficulties,  sorrows,  fears,  hopes,  desires,  and  every 
thing,  and  every  circumstance,  according  to  Dr.  Manton's  Sermon 
on  the  119th  Psalm.     July  2^,  and  Aug.  10,  1723. 

66.  Resolved^  That  I  v.ill  endeavour  always  to  keep  a  benign 
aspect,  and  air  of  acting  and  speaking  in  aU  places,  and  in  all  com- 
panies, except  it  should  so  happen  that  duty  requires  otheriAise. 

67.  Resolved^  After  affiictions,  to  enquire.  What  I  am  the  better 
for  them ;  What  good  I  have  got  by  them  ;  and,  What  I  might  have 
got  by  them. 

68.  Resolved,  To  confess  frankly  to  myself  all  that  which  I  find 
in  myself,  either  infirmity  or  sin ;  and,  if  it  be  what  concerns  reli- 
gion, also  to  confess  the  whole  case  to  God,  and  implore  needed 
help.     July  23,  and  August  10,  1723. 

69.  Resolved.^  Always  to  do  that,  which  I  shall  wish  I  had  done 
when  I  see  others  do  it.     Aug.  11,  1723. 

70.  Let  there  be  something  of  benevolence,  in  all  that  I  speak. 
Aug.  17,  1723. 

Those,  who  have  read  the  preceding  Resolutions,  will  not  need  to 
be  apprised,  that  they  discover  in  the  wTiter  a  knowledge  of  his 
own  heart,  of  the  human  character,  and  of  the  secret  springs  of 
human  action,  as  well  as  a  purity,  conscientiousness  and  evangeh- 
cal  integrity,  very  rarely  found  in  any  individual.  His  obvious  in- 
tention and  rule  was,  to  refer  every  voluntary  action,  and  every 
course  of  conduct,  habitually  and  immediately  to  the  eye  of  Om- 
niscience ;  to  live  as  always  surrounded  by  his  presence ;  and  to 
value  nothing  in  comparison  with  his  approbation,  and,  what  of 
course  accompanied  it,  that  of  his  own  conscience.  At  this  early 
period,  he  had  begun  to  remember,  that  he  was  imm^ortal,  that  he 
w^as  soon  to  enter  on  a  stage  of  existence  and  action,  incomparably 
more  expanded  and  dignified  than  the  present,  and  that  nothing 
here  had  any  ultimate  importance,  except  as  it  had  a  bearing  on 
his  own  welfare,  and  that  of  others,  in  that  nobler  state  of  being. 
These  Resolutions  are,  perhaps,  to  persons  of  every  age,  but  espe- 
cially to  the  young,  the  best  uninspired  summary  of  christian  duty, 
the  best  directory  to  high  attainments  in  evangelical  virtue,  which 
the  mind  of  man  has  hitherto  been  able  to  form.  They  are,  also, 
in  the  highest  degree  interesting,  as  disclosing  the  writer's  own  cha- 
racter ;  and  no  one  will  w^onder  that  the  youth,  w^ho,  in  his  nine- 

VOL.  I.  10 


74  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

teenth  year,  could,  in  the  presence  of  God,  deliberately  and  sol- 
emnly form  the  first  Resolution  : — "  Resolved,  That  /  will  do 
ivhatsoever  I  think  to  be  most  to  God's  glory,  and  my  own  good, 
profit  and  pleasure,  on  the  whole  ;  without  any  consideration  of 
the  tsme,  whether  now,  or  never  so  many  myriads  of  ages  hence  ; — 
to  do  whatever  I  think  to  be  my  duty,  and  most  for  the  good  and 
advantage  of  mankind  in  general, — whatever  diffccidties  I  meet 
with,  how  many  and  how  great  soever  :"• — should  have  attained  to 
an  elevation  and  energy  of  virtue  rarely  witnessed  in  this  fallen 
world. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

His  Diary. 

The  Diary  of  Mr.  Edwards  begins  Dec.  18,  1722,  when  he 
was  nineteen  years  of  age.  As  far  as  to  Jan.  15th,  at  night,  it  is 
written  on  two  detached  slips  of  paper ;  and  the  remainder  in  a 
book.^  As  it  commences  abruptly,  and  as  near  as  possible  to  the 
top  of  that  paper ;  the  begiiming  of  it  is  undoubtedly  lost ;  and  it  is 
not  improbable,  that,  as  he  origmally  wrote  it,  it  may  have  reached 
back,  at  least  to  the  period  of  his  preparation  for  the  ministry.  It 
was  intended,  as  will  at  once  be  perceived,  for  his  ov.ti  private  use 
exclusively ;  and  had  it  been  with  him  at  the  close  of  life,  it  is  not 
unlikely  it  might  have  been  destroyed.  Still,  whatever  is  calcula- 
ted to  do  good,  and  is  perfectly  consistent  with  an  author's  real 
reputation,  may  be  published  with,  honour,  whatever  his  design 
might  be  while  wTiting.  The  best  of  men,  indeed,  have  thoughts, 
and  opinions  and  feelings,  which  are  perfectly  proper  and  right  in 
themselves,  which  yet  it  would  be  wholly  improper  for  them  to  dis- 
close to  others.  But  a  man  of  sound  discretion,  will  take  care  that 
nothing  of  this  nature  is  placed  within  the  reach  of  accident.  What 
Mr.  Edwards  wished  to  have  concealed  from  every  eye  but  his  own, 
he  wTote  in  short  hand.  And  on  one  occasion,  after  having  written 
to  a  considerable  extent  in  that  character,  he  adds  this  remark  in 
his  customary  hand,  "  Remember  to  act  according  to  Prov.  xii, 
23,  A  prudent  man  concealeth  knowledge.^^ 

The  reader,  while  perusing  the  Diary  in  its  various  parts,  will,  I 
think,  be  struck  with  it,  as  possessing  the  following  characteristics. 
It  consists  of  facts  ;  and  of  soUd  thought,  dictated  by  deep  religious 
feeling  :  and  not  of  the  mere  expressions  of  feeling,  or  of  common- 
place moral  reflexions,  or  exhortations.  It  was  intended  for  his 
own  eyes  exclusively ;  and  not  chiefly  for  those  of  his  friends  and 
of  the  public.  It  is  an  exhibition  of  the  simple  thinking,  feeling 
and  acting,  of  a  man,  who  is  unconscious  how  he  appears,  except  to 
himself,  and  to  God :  and  not  the  remarks  of  one,  who  is  desirous  of 
being  thought  humble,  respecting  his  own  humility.  If  we  suppose 
a  man  of  christian  simplicity,  and  godly  sincerity,  to  bring  all  the 
secret  movements  of  his  own   soul  under  the  clear,  strong  light  of 


*He  mentions,  Jan,  14th,  his  making  the  book,  and  annexing^  the  loose  pa- 
pers to  it. 


76  LIFE    OF    PRESHJENT   EUWARL*-?. 

heaven,  and  there  to  survey  them  with  a  piercing  and  an  honest 
eye,  and  a  contrite  heart,  in  order  to  humble  himself,  and  make 
himself  better ;  it  is  just  the  account  which  such  a  man  would 
write. — In  these  respects,  it  is,  v*ith  only  here  and  there  a  solitary 
exception,  wholly  unlike  any  Diary  of  modern  times;  and,  as  such, 
is,  with  here  and  there  a  solitary  "exception,  the  only  Diary  of 
modern  times,  that  ought  ever  to  have  been  published. 

DIARY. DEGEriBER,   1722. 

Dec.  18.  This  day  made  the  35th  Resolution.  The  reason 
why  I,  in  the  least,  question  my  interest  in  God's  love  and  favour, 
is, — 1.  Because  I  cannot  speak  so  fully  to  my  experience  of  that 
preparatory  work,  of  which  divines  speak : — 2.  I  do  not  remember 
that  I  experienced  regeneration,  exactly  in  those  steps,  in  vrhich 
cUvines  say  it  is  generally  A^aought : — 3.  I  do  not  feel  the  christian 
gTaces  sensibly  enough,  particularly  faith.  I  fear  they  are  only 
such  hypocritical  outside  affections,  which  wicked  men  may  feel^ 
as  welt  as  otliers.  They  do  not  seem  to  be  sufficiently  inward, 
full,  sincere,  entire  and  hearty.  They  do  not  seem  so  substantial, 
and  so  WTOught  into  my  very  nature,  as  I  could  wish. — 4.  Because 
I  am  sometimes  guilty  of  sins  of  omission  and  commission.  Lately 
I  have  doubted,  whether  I  do  not  transgress  in  evil  speaking.  This 
day,  resolved,  No. 

Dec.  19.  This  day  made  the  36th  Resolution.  Lately,  I  have 
been  very  much  perplexed,  by  seeing  the  doctrine  of  different  de- 
grees in  glory  questioned  ;  but  now  have  almost  got  over  tlie  diffi- 
cult}^ 

Dec^.  20.  This  day  somewhat  questioned,  whedier  I  had  not 
been  guilty  of  negligence  yesterday,  and  this  morning  ;  but  resoh^- 
ed.  No. 

Dec.  21,  Friday.  This  day,  and  yesterday,  I  was  exceedingly 
dull,  dry  and  dead. 

Dec.  22,  Saturday.  This  day,  revived  by  God's  Holy  Spirit; 
aflected  with  the  sense  of  the  excellency  of  holiness  ;  felt  more  ex- 
ercise of  love  to  Christ,  than  usual.  Have,  also,  felt  sensible  re- 
pentance for  sin,  because  it  was  committed  against  so  merciful  and 
good  a  God.     This  night  made  the  37th  Resolution. 

Sahl'ath-nis'ht,  Dec.  23.  Made  the  3Sth  Resolution. 

Monday,  Dec.  24.  Higher  thoughts  than  usual  of  the  excellen- 
cy of  Christ  and  his  kingdom. — Concluded  to  observe,  at  the  end 
of  every  month,  the  number  of  breaches  of  Resolutions,  to  see 
whether  they  increase  or  diminish,  to  begin  from  this  day,  and  to 
compute  from  that  tlie  weekly  account,  my  monthly  increase,  and, 
out  of  the  whole,  my  yearly  increase,  beginning  from  new  year 
days. 

Wednesday y  Dec.  26.     Early  in  the  morning  yesterday,  was 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  77 

liindered  by  the  head-ache  all  day;  though  I  hope  I  did  not  lose 
much.^  Made  an  addition  to  the  37th  Resolution,  concerning 
weeks,  months  and  years.     At  yiight ;  made  the  33d  Resolution. 

Saturday,  Dec.  29.     About  sunset  this  day,  dull  and  lifeless. 

1722-23.  Tuesday,  Jan.  1.  Have  been  dull  for  several  days. 
Examined  whether  I  have  not  been  guilty  of  negligence  to-day  ; 
and  resoiv^ed,  No. 

Wednesday,  Jan.  2.  Dull.  I  find,  by  experience,  that,  let  me 
make  Resolutions,  and  do  what  I  will,  with  never  so  many  inven- 
tions, it  is  all  nothing,  and  to  no  purpose  at  all,  w  ithout  the  motions 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  ;  for  if  the  Spirit  of  God  should  be  as  much 
withdrav.Ti  from  me  always,  as  for  the  week  past,  notwithstanding 
ail  I  do,  I  should  not  grow,  but  should  languish,  and  miserably  fade 
away.  I  perceive,  if  God  should  withdraw  his  Spirit  a  httle  more, 
I  should  not  hesitate  to  break  my  Resolutions,  and  should  soon 
arrive  at  my  old  state.  There  is  no  dependence  on  myself.  Our 
resolutions  may  be  at  the  higliest  one  day,  and  yet,  the  next  day,^ 
w^e  may  be  in  a  miserable  dead  condition,  not  at  all  like  the  same 
person  who  resolved.  So  that  it  is  to  no  purpose  to  resolve,  ex- 
cept w^e  depend  on  the  grace  of  God.  For,  if  it  were  not  for  his 
mere  grace,  one  might  be  a  very  good  man  one  day,  and  a  very 
wicked  one  the  next.  I  find  also  by  experience,  that  there  is  no 
guessing  out  the  ends  of  Providence,  in  particular  dispensations 
towards  me — any  otherwise  than  as  afilictions  come  as  corrections 
for  sin,  and  God  intends  when  we  meet  with  them,  to  desire  us  to 
look  back  on  our  ways,  and  see  wherein  we  have  done  amiss,  and 
lament  that  particular  sin,  and  all  our  sins,  before  him  : — knowing 
this,  also,  that  all  things  shall  work  together  for  our  good;  not 
knowing  in  w^hat  w^ay,  indeed,  but  trusting  in  God. 

Saturday  evening,  Jan.  5.  A  little  redeemed  from  a  long  dread- 
ful dulness,  about  reading  the  Scriptures.  This  week,  have  been 
unhappily  low  in  the  weekly  account: — and  what  are  the  reasons 
of  it? — abundance  of  Hstlessness  and  sloth  ;  and,  if  this  should  con- 
tinue much  longer,  I  perceive  that  other  sins  will  begin  to  discover 
themselves.  It  used  to  appear  to  me,  that  I  had  not  much  sin  re- 
maining ;  but  now,  I  perceive  that  there  are  great  remainders  of 
sin.  Where  may  it  not  bring  me  to,  if  God  should  leave  me  ?  Sin 
is  not  enough  mortified.  Without  the  influences  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  the  old  serpent  would  begin  to  rouse  up  himself  from  his 
frozen  state,  and  would  come  to  life  again.  Resolved,  That  I  have 
been  negligent  in  two  things : — in  not  striving  enough  in  duty  ;  and 
in  not  forcing  myself  upon  religious  thoughts. 

Sabbath,  Jan.  6.  At  night;  Much  concerned  about  the  improve- 
ment of  precious  time.  Intend  to  live  in  continual  mortification, 
without  ceasing,  and  even  to  weary  myself  thereby,  as  long  as  I  am 
in  this  world,  and  never  to  expect  or  desire  any  worldly  ease  or 
pleasure. 


V8  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDb. 

Monday^  Jan.  7.     At  night,  made  the  40th  Resolution. 

Tuesday.  Jan.  8.  In  the  morning,  had  higher  thoughts  than 
usual  of  the  excellency  of  Christ,  and  felt  an  unusual  repentance 
of  sin  therefrom. 

Wednesday,  Jan.  9.  Jit  night:  Decayed.  I  am  sometimes  apt 
to  think,  that  I  have  a  great  deal  more  of  holiness  than  I  really  have. 
I  find  now  and  then  that  ahominahle  corruption,  which  is  directly 
contrary  to  what  I  read  of  eminent  christians.  I  do  not  seem  to 
be  half  so  careful  to  improve  time,  to  do  every  thing  quick,  and  in 
as  short  a  time  as  I  possibly  can,  nor  to  be  perpetually  engaged 
to  think  about  religion,  as  I  w^as  yesterday  and  the  day  before,  nor 
indeed  as  I  have  been  at  certain  times,  perhaps  a  twelve  month 
ago.  If  my  resolutions  of  that  nature,  from  that  time,  had  always 
been  kept  alive  and  awake,  how  much  better  might  I  have  been, 
than  I  now  am.  How  deceitful  is  my  heart !  I  take  up  a  strong 
resolution,  but  how  soon  doth  it  weaken. 

Thursday,  Jan,  10,  about  noon.  Recovering.  It  is  a  great 
dishonour  to  Christ,  in  whom  I  hope  I  have  an  interest,  to  be  uneasy 
at  my  worldly  state  and  condition;  or,  when  I  see  the  prosperity 
of  others,  and  that  ail  things  go  easy  mth  them,  the  world  is  smooth 
to  them,  and  they  are  very  happy  in  many  respects,  and  very 
prosperous,  or  are  advanced  to  much  honour ;  to  grudge  them 
their  prosperity,  or  envy  them  on  account  of  it,  or  to  be  in  the 
least  uneasy  at  it,  to  wish  and  long  for  the  same  prosperity,  and  to 
desire  that  it  should  ever  be  so  with  me.  Wherefore,  concluded 
always  to  rejoice  in  every  one's  prosperity,  and  not  to  pretend  to 
expect  or  desire  it  for  myself,  and  to  expect  no  happiness  of  that 
nature,  as  long  as  I  live ;  but  to  depend  on  afflictions,  and  to  be- 
take myself  entirely  to  another  happiness. — I  think  I  find  myself 
much  more  sprightly  and  healthy,  both  in  body  and  mind,  for  my 
self-denial  in  eating,  drinking  and  sleeping.  I  think  it  would  be 
advantageous,  every  morning  to  consider  my  business  and  tempta- 
tions, and  the  sins  to  which  I  shall  be  exposed  on  that  day,  and  to 
make  a  resolution  how  to  improve  the  day,  and  avoid  those  sins, 
and  so  at  the  beginning  of  every  week,  month  and  year.  I  never 
knew  before  what  was  meant,  by  not  setting  our  hearts  on  those 
things.  It  is,  not  to  care  about  them,  nor  to  depend  upon  them, 
nor  to  afflict  ourselves  with  the  fear  of  losing  them,  nor  to  please 
ourselves  ■^^^th  the  expectation  of  obtaining  them,  or  witli  the  hopes 
of  their  continuance. — At  night ;  made  the  41st  Resolution. 

Saturday,  Jan.  12.  In  the  morning.  I  have  this  day,  solemn- 
ly renewed  my  baptismal  covenant  and  self-dedication,  which  I  re- 
newed, when  I  was  taken  into  the  communion  of  the  church.  I 
have  been  before  God,  and  have  giv^en  myself,  all  that  I  am,  and 
have,  to  God  ;  so  that  I  am  not,  in  any  respect,  my  own.  I  can 
challenge  no  right  in  this  understanding,  this  will,  these  affections, 
which  are  in  me.     Neither  have  I  any  right  to  this  body,  or  any 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  79 

of  its  members — no  right  to  this  tongue,  these  hancis,  these  feet ; 
no  right  to  these  senses,  these  eyes,  these  ears,  this  smell,  or  this 
taste.  I  have  given  myself  clear  away,  and  have  not  retained  any 
thing,  as  my  own.  I  gave  myself  to  God,  in  my  baptism,  and  I 
have  been  this  morning  to  him,  and  told  him,  that  I  gave  myself 
wholly  to  him.  I  have  given  every  power  to  him  ;  so  that  for  the 
future,  I'll  challenge  no  right  in  myself,  in  no  respect  whatever. 
I  have  expressly  promised  him,  and  I  do  now  promise  Almighty 
God,  that  by  his  grace,  I  will  not.  I  have  this  morning  told  liim, 
that  I  did  take  Him  for  my  whole  portion  and  felicity,  looking  on 
nothing  else,  as  any  part  of  my  happiness,  nor  acting  as  if  it  were  ; 
and  his  Law,  for  tlie  constant  rule  of  my  obedience ;  and  would 
figlit,  with  all  my  might,  against  the  W'orld,  the  flesh  and  the  devil, 
to  the  end  of  my  life  ;  and  that  I  did  believe  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  did  receive  him  as  a  Prince  and  Saviour ;  and  that  I  would 
adhere  to  the  faith  and  obedience  of  the  Gospel,  however  hazard- 
ous and  difficult,  the  confession  and  practice  of  it  may  be ;  and 
that  I  did  receive  the  blessed  Spirit,  as  my  Teacher,  Sanctifier, 
and  only  Comforter,  and  cherish  all  his  motions  to  enlighten,  pu- 
rify, confirm,  comfort  and  assist  me.  This,  I  have  done ;  and  I 
pray  God,  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  to  look  upon  it  as  a  self-dedica- 
tion, and  to  receive  me  now,  as  entirely  his  owti,  and  to  deal  with 
me,  in  all  respects,  as  such,  w^hether  he  afflicts  me,  or  prospers  me, 
or  whatever  he  pleases  to  do  with  me,  who  am  his.  Now,  hence- 
forth, I  am  not  to  act,  in  any  respect,  as  my  own. — I  shall  act  as 
my  own,  if  I  ever  make  use  of  any  of  my  pow  ers,  to  any  thing, 
that  is  not  to  the  glory  of  God,  and  do  not  make  the  glorifying  of 
him,  my  whole  and  entire  business  : — if  I  murmur  in  the  least  at 
affliction ;  if  I  grieve  at  the  prosperity  of  others ;  if  I  am  in  any 
way  uncharitable  ;  if  I  am  angry,  because  of  injuries  ;  if  I  revenge 
them  ;  if  I  do  any  thing,  purely  to  please  myself,  or  if  I  avoid  any 
thing,  for  the  sake  of  my  owai  ease ;  if  I  omit  any  thing,  because 
it  is  great  self-denial ;  if  I  trust  to  myself ;  if  I  take  any  of  the 
praise  of  any  good  that  I  do,  or  that  God  doth  by  me  ;  or  if  I  am 
in  any  way  proud.  This  day,  made  the  42d  and  43d  Resolutions: — 
Whether  or  no,  any  other  end  ought  to  have  any  influence  at  all, 
on  any  of  my  actions ;  or,  w^hether  any  action  ought  to  be  any 
otherwise,  in  any  respect,  than  it  would  be,  if  nothing  else  but 
religion  had  the  least  influence  on  my  mind.  Wherefore,  I  make 
the  44th  Resolution. 

Query  :  Whether  any  delight,  or  satisfaction,  ought  to  be  allow- 
ed, because  any  other  end  is  obtained,  beside  a  reHgious  one.  In 
the  afternoon,  I  answer.  Yes ;  because,  if  we  should  never  sufler 
ourselves  to  rejoice,  but  because  we  have  obtained  a  religious  end, 
we  should  never  rejoice  at  the  sight  of  friends,  w^e  should  not  allow 
ourselves  any  pleasure  in  our  food,  w4iereby  the  animal  spirits 
would  be  withdrawn,  and  good  digestion  hindered.     But  the  que- 


80  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ly  is  to  be  answered  thus : — ^We  never  ought  to  allow  any  joy  or 
sorrow,  but  what  helps  religion.  Wherefore,  I  make  the  45th  Re- 
solution. 

The  reason  why  I  so  soon  grow  lifeless,  and  unfit  for  the  busi- 
ness I  am  about,  I  have  found  out,  is  only  because  I  have  been 
used  to  suffer  myself  to  leave  off,  for  the  sake  of  ease,  and  so,  I 
have  acquired  a  habit  of  expecting  ease ;  and  tlierefore,  when  I 
think  I  have  exercised  myself  a  great  while,  I  cannot  keep  myself 
to  it  any  longer,  because  I  expect  to  be  released,  as  my  due  and 
right.  And  then,  I  am  deceived,  as  if  I  were  really  tired  and  wea- 
ry. Whereas,  if  I  did  not  expect  ease,  and  was  resolved  to  occu- 
py myself  by  business,  as  much  as  I  could;  I  should  continue 
with  the  same  vigour  at  my  business,  without  vacation  time  to  rest. 
Thus,  I  have  found  it  in  reading  the  scriptures ;  and  thus,  I  have 
found  it  in  prayer ;  and  thus,  I  believe  it  to  be  in  getting  sermons 
by  heart,  and  in  other  things. 

At  night.  This  week,  the  weekly  account  rose  liiglier  tlian  or- 
dinary. It  is  suggested  to  me,  that  too  constant  a  mortification,  and 
too  vigorous  application  to  religion,  may  be  prejudicial  to  health  ; 
but  nevertheless,  I  will  plainly  feel  it  and  experience  it,  before  I 
cease,  on  this  account.  It  is  no  matter  how  much  tired  and  weary 
I  am,  if  my  health  is  not  impaired. 

Sabbath  day,  Jan.  13.  1  plainly  feel,  that  if  I  should  continue 
to  go  on,  as  from  the  beginnmg  of  the  last  week  hitherto,  I  should 
continually  grow  and  increase  in  grace.  After  the  afternoon  meet- 
ing, made  an  addition  to  the  45th  Resolution.  At  noon  ;  I  remem- 
ber I  thought  that  I  loved  to  be  a  member  of  Christ,  and  not  any 
thing  distinct,  but  only  a  part,  so  as  to  have  no  separate  interest,  or 
pleasure  of  my  o\\ii.  Jit  night,  resolved  to  endeavour  fully  to 
understand  1  Cor.  vii.  29 — 32,  and  to  act  according  to  it. 

Monday,  Jan.  14.  About  10  o'clock  in  the  morning,  made 
this  book,  and  put  these  papers  in  it.*  The  dedication,  which  I 
made  of  myself  to  God,  on  Saturday  last,  has  been  exceedingly 
useful  to  me.  I  thought  I  had  a  more  spiritual  insight  into  the 
scriptures,  w4ien  reading  the  8th  of  Romans,  than  ever  before. 
At  night.  Great  mstances  of  mortification,  are  deep  wounds,  giv- 
en to  the  body  of  sin ;  hard  blows,  which  make  him  stagger  and 
reel.  We  thereby  get  strong  ground  and  footing  against  him, 
he  is  the  weaker  ever  after,  and  we  have  easier  work  \\-ith  him 
the  next  time.  He  grows  cowardly ;  and  we  can  easily  cause 
him  to  give  way,  until  at  length,  we  find  it  easy  w^ork  with  him. 
and  can  kill  him  at  pleasure.  While  we  five  witliout  great  instan- 
ces of  mortification  and  self-denial,  the  old  man  keeps  about  w^here 
he  w^as  ;  for  he  is  sturdy  and  obstinate,  and  will  not  stir  for  small 
blows.     This,  without  doubt,  is  one  great  reason  why  many  chris- 

*  He  refers  to  slips  of  paper  on  which  the  first  part  of  the  Diary  is  written  : 
as  far  as  Jan.  15,  al  niaht. 


LIFE    ©F    PRESIDENT    EDWARBS.  ^1 

iians  do  not  sensibly  increase  in  grace.  After  the  greatest  mortifi- 
cations, I  always  find  the  greatest  comfort.  Wrote  the  63d  Reso- 
lution. Such  little  things  as  Christians  commonly  do,  will  not 
evmce  much  increase  of  grace.  We  must  do  great  things  for  God. 
— It  wiU  be  best,  when  I  find  that  I  have  lost  any  former  ancient 
good  motions  or  actions,  to  take  notice  of  it,  if  I  can  remember 
ihem. 

Tuesday,  Jan.  15. — Mout  two  or  three  o'clock.  I  have  been 
all  this  time  decaying.  It  seemed  yesterday,  the  day  before,  and  Sa* 
turd  ay,  that  I  should  always  retain  the  same  resolutions  to  the  same 
height.  But  alas  !  how  soon  do  I  decay !  O  how  weak,  how  in- 
firm, how  unable  to  do  any  thing  of  myself !  What  a  poor  incon- 
sistent being !  What  a  miserable  WTCtch,  uithout  the  assistance  of 
the  Spirit  of  God  !  While  I  stand,  I  am  ready  to  think  that  I  stand 
by  my  own  strength,  and  upon  my  own  legs ;  and  I  am  ready  to 
triumph  over  my  spiritual  enemies,  as  if  it  were  I  myself,  that 
caused  them  to  flee : — when  alas !  I  am  but  a  poor  infant,  upheld 
by  Jesus  Christ ;  who  holds  me  up,  and  gives  me  liberty  to  smile, 
to  see  my  enemies  flee,  when  he  drives  them  before  me.  And  so 
I  laugh,  as  though  I  myself  did  it,  when  it  is  only  Jesus  Christ  leads 
=me  along,  and  fights  himself  against  my  enemies.  And  now  the 
Lord  has  a  little  left  me,  how  weak  do  I  find  myself.  O  let  it  teach 
me  to  depend  less  on  myself,  to  be  more  humble,  and  to  give  more 
of  the  praise  of  my  ability  to  Jesus  Christ !  The  heart  of  man  is 
deceitful  above  all  things  and  desperately  wicked :  who  can  know 
it ! — The  occasion  of  my  decaying,  is  a  Httle  melancholy.  My 
spirits  are  depressed,  because  I  fear  that  I  lost  some  friendship  the 
last  night ;  and,  my  spirits  being  depressed,  my  resolutions  have 
lost  their  strength.  I  differ  to-day  from  yesterday,  in  these  things. 
I  do  not  resolve  any  thing  to-day,  half  so  strongly,  I  am  not  so 
perpetually  thinking  of  renewing  my  resolutions,  as  I  was  then.  I 
am  not  half  so  vigorous  as  I  was  then  ;  nor  am  I  half  so  careful  to 
do  every  thing  with  vigour.  Then,  I  kept  continually  acting  ;  but 
now,  I  do  things  slowly,  and  satisfy  myself  by  thinking  of  religion 
in  the  mean  time.  I  am  not  so  careful  to  go  from  one  business  to 
another. — I  felt  humiliation,  about  sunset.  What  shall  I  do,  in  or- 
der that  I  may,  with  a  good  grace,  fall  into  christian  discourse  and 
conversation.  At  night. — ^The  next  time  I  am  in  such  a  lifeless 
frame,  I  will  force  myself  to  go  rapidly  from  one  thing  to  another, 
and  to  do  tliose  things  with  vigour,  in  which  vigour  would  ever  be 
useful.  The  things,  which  take  off  my  mind,  when  bent  on  reli- 
gion, are  commonly  some  remarkable  change  or  alteration — jour- 
nies,  change  of  place,  change  of  business,  change  of  studies,  and 
change  of  other  circumstances ;  or  something  that  makes  me  mel- 
ancholy; or  some  sin. 

Thursday,  Jan.  17.  About  three  o'clock,  overwhelmed  with 
melancholy. 

Vol.  L  11 


8^  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EmVARD^. 

Friday,  Jan.  18. — At  night.  Beginning  to  endeavour  to  rece- 
ver  out  of  the  death,  I  have  been  in  ior  these  several  days. 

Sabbath  day,  Jan.  20. — At  night.  The  last  week  1  was  sunk 
so  low,  that  I  tear  it  will  be  a  long  time,  before  I  am  recovered.  I 
fell  exceedingly  low  in  the  weekly  account.  I  find  my  heart  so 
deceitful,  that  I  am  almost  discouraged  from  making  any  more  re- 
solutions.— Wherein  have  I  been  negligent  in  the  week  past ;  and 
how  could  I  have  done  better,  to  help  the  dreadful  low  estate  in 
which  I  am  sunk  ? 

Monday,  Jan.  21.  Before  sunrise,  answered  the  preceding, 
questions  thus  :  I  ought  to  have  spent  the  time  in  bewailing  my 
sins,  and  in  singing  Psahns — especially  psalms  or  hymns  of  peni- 
tence ;  these  duties  being  most  suited  to  the  frame  I  was  in.  I  do 
not  spend  time  enough  in  endeavouring  to  affect  myself  with  tlie 
glories  of  Christianity. — Fell  short  in  the  monthly  account.  It 
seems  to  me,  that  I  am  fallen  from  my  former  sense  of  the  pleas- 
antness of  religion. 

Tuesday,  Feb.  5. — At  night.  I  have  thought,  that  this  being  sa 
exceedingly  careful,  and  so  particularly  anxious,  to  force  myself  to 
think  of  religion,  at  all  times,  has  exceedingly  distracted  my  mind, 
and  made  me  altogether  unfit  for  that,  and  every  thing  else.  I 
have  thought,  that  this  caused  the  dreadful  low  condition  I  was  in 
on  tiie  1 5th  of  January.  I  think  tliat  I  stretched  myself  farther 
than  I  could  bear,  and  so  broke. — But  now,  it  seems  to  me,  though 
I  know  not  why,  that  I  do  not  do  enough  to  prepare  for  another 
world.  I  do  not  seem  to  press  forward,  to  fight  and  wi'estle,  as  the 
Apostles  used  to  speak.  I  do  not  seem  so  greatly  and  constantly 
to  mortify  and  deny  myself,  as  the  mortification  of  which  they 
speak  represents.  Therefore,  wherein  ought  I  to  do  more  in  this 
way  ?— I  answer :  I  am  again  grown  too  careless  about  eating, 
drinking  and  sleeping — not  careful  enough  about  evil  speaking. 

Saturday,  Feb.  16.  I  do  certainly  know  that  I  love  holiness, 
such  as  the  Gospel  prescribes.  At  night.  For  the  time  past  of 
my  hfe,  I  hi^ve  been  negligent,  in  tliat  I  have  not  sufHciently  kept 
up  that  part  of  divine  worship,  singing  the  praise  of  God  in  secret, 
and  witli  company. — I  have  been  negligent  the  month  past,  in  these 
three  things.  I  have  not  been  watchful  enough  over  my  appetites, 
in  eating  and  drinking ;  in  rising  too  late  in  tiie  morning ;  and  in 
not  applying  myself  with  sufficient  application  to  the  duty  of  secret 
prayer. 

Sabbath  day,  Feb.  17. — A^ear  sunset.  Renewedly  promised, 
that  I  will  accept  of  God  for  my  whole  portion,  and  that  I  will  be 
contented,  whatever  else  I  am  denied.  I  will  not  murmur  nor  be 
grieved,  whatever  prosperity  upon  any  account  I  see  others  enjoy, 
and  I  am  denied.     To  this  I  have  lately  acted  contrary. 

Thursday,  Feb.  21.  I  perceive  that  I  never  yet  have  adequate- 
ly known,  what  was  meant  by  being  weaned  from  the  world,  by  not 


LmZ    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  S3 

laying  up  treasure  on  earth,  but  in  heaven,  by  not  having  our  por- 
tio?i  ill  this  life,  by  making  the  concerns  oi  another  hfe  our  whole 
business,  by  taking  God  tor  our  whole  portion.  I  find  my  he.  rt, 
in  g=eat  part,  yet  adheres  to  the  earth.  O  that  it  might  be  quute 
separated  from  thence.  I  find  when  I  have  power  and  repiuauon 
as  others,  I  am  uneasy,  and  it  does  not  satisfy  me  to  tell  me,  that  I 
have  chosen  God  for  my  whole  portion,  and  that  I  have  promised 
to  rest  entirely  contented  with  him. 

Saturday,  Feb.  23.  I  find  myself  miserably  negligent,  and  that  I 
might  do  tw^ce  the  business  that  I  do,  if  I  were  set  upon  it.  See  how 
soon  my  thoughts  of  this  matter,  will  be  differing  from  \^■hat  they  are 
now\  I  have  been  indulging  a  horrid  laziness  a  good  while,  and  did  not 
know  it.  I  can  do  seven  times  as  much  m  the  same  time  now,  as 
I  can  at  other  times,  not  because  my  faculties  are  in  better  tune ; 
but  because  of  the  fire  of  diUgence  that  I  feel  burning  within  me. 
If  I  could  but  always  continue  so,  I  should  not  meet  with  one  quar- 
ter of  the  trouble.  I  should  run  the  christian  race  much  better, 
and  should  go  out  of  the  world  a  much  better  man. 

Saturday,  March  2.  O  liow  much  more  base  and  vile  am  I, 
when  I  feel  pride  working  in  me,  than  when  I  am  in  a  more  hum- 
ble disposition  of  mind !  How  much,  how  exceedingly  much, 
more  lovely  is  an  humble,  than  a  proud,  disposition  !  I  now  plainly 
perceive  it,  and  am  really  sensible  of  it.  How  immensely  more 
pleasant  is  an  humble  dehght,  than  a  high  thought  of  myself!  How 
much  better  do  I  feel,  when  I  am  truly  humbhng  myself,  than  when 
I  am  pleasing  myself  with  my  own  perfections.  O  how'  much 
pleasanter  is  humihty,  than  pride.  O  that  God  would  fill  me  with 
exceeding  great  humility,  and  that  he  w^ould  ever  more  keep  me 
from  all  pride.  The  pleasures  of  humility  are  really  the  most  re- 
fined, imvard  and  exquisite,  delights  in  the  world.  How  hateful 
is  a  proud  man.  How  hateful  is  a  worm,  that  lifts  up  itself  with 
pride  !  What  a  foolish,  silly,  miserable,  blind,  deceived,  poor  worm 
am  I,  when  pride  works  !  At  night. — I  have  lately  been  neglis;ent 
as  to  reading  the  Scriptures.  Notwithstanding  my  resolutions  on 
Saturday  was  se'night,  I  have  not  been  sedulous  and  diligent  enough. 

Wednesday,  March  6. — A'e«r  sunset.  Regarded  the  doctrines 
of  Election,  Free  Grace,  our  Inabiiit}^  to  do  any  thing  without 
the  grace  of  God,  and  that  Holiness  is  entirely,  throughout,  the 
work  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  with  greater  pleasure  than  ever  before. 

Thu^rsday,  March  7.  I  think  I  now  suffer  from  not  forcing  my- 
self enough  on  rehgious  thoughts. 

Saturday  night,  March  24.  I  intend,  if  I  am  ever  settled,  to 
concert  measures,  and  study  methods,  of  doing  good  in  the  world, 
and  to  draw  up  rules  of  acting  in  this  matter,  in  writing,  of  all  the 
methods  I  can  possibly  de\dse,  by  which  I  can  in  any  respect  do  good. 

Saturday  night,  March  31,  This  week  I  have  been  too  erne- 
fess  about  eating. 


84  LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARB5. 

Monday  morning,  April  1 .  I  think  it  best  not  to  allow  myself 
to  laugh  at  the  faults,  follies  and  infirmities,  of  others. 

Saturday  night,  April  7.  This  week  I  found  myself  so  far 
gone,  that  it  seemed  to  me  I  should  never  recover  more.  Let  God 
of  his  mercy  return  unto  me,  and  no  more  leave  me  thus  to  sink 
and  decay  !  I  know,  O  Lord,  that  without  thy  help  I  shall  fall> 
innumerable  times,  notwithstanding  all  my  resolutions,  how  often 
soever  repeated. 

Saturday  night,  April  13.  I  could  pray  more  heartily  this  night 
for  die  forgiveness  of  my  enemies,  than  ever  before. — I  am  some- 
what apt,  after  ha\ing  asked  one  petition  over  many  times,  to  be 
weary  of  itj  but  I  am  now  resolved  not  to  give  way  to  such  a  dis- 
position. 

Wednesday  forenoon.  May  \.  Last  night  I  came  home,  after 
my  melancholy  parting  from  New  York. 

I  have  always,  in  every  different  state  of  life  I  have  hitherto 
been  in,  thought  that  the  troubles  and  difficulties  of  that  state  were 
greater,  than  those  of  any  other  state  that  I  proposed  to  be  in ;  and 
when  I  have  altered,  with  assurance  of  mending  myself,  I  have  still 
thought  the  same,  yea  that  the  difficulties  of  that  state  are  greater 
than  those  of  that  I  left  last.  Lord,  grant  that  fi-om  hence  I  may 
learn  to  withdraw  my  thoughts,  affections,  desires  and  expectations 
entirely  from  the  world,  and  may  fix  them  upon  the  heavenly  state,, 
w^here  there  is  fulness  of  joy  ;  where  reigns  heavenly,  sweet,  calm 
and  delightful  love  without  alloy  ;  where  there  are  continually  the 
dearest  expressions  of  this  love ;  where  there  is  the  enjoyment  of 
tliis  love  without  ever  parting  ;  and  where  those  persons,  who  ap- 
pear so  lovely  in  this  world,  will  be  inexpressibly  more  lovely,  and 
full  of  love  to  us.  How  sweetly  will  those,  who  tlius  mutually  love, 
join  together  in  singing  the  praises  of  God  and  the  Lamb.  How 
full  will  it  fill  us  with  joy,  to  think  that  this  enjoyment,  these  sweet 
exercises,  will  never  cease  or  come  to  an  end,  but  will  last  to  all 
eternity.  Remember  after  journeys,  removals,  overturnings  and 
alterations  in  the  state  of  my  life,  to  reflect  and  consider,  whether 
therein  I  have  managed  the  best  way  possible  respecting  my  soul } 
and  before  such  alterafions,  if  foreseen,  to  resolve  how  to  act. 

Thursday,  May  2. — Afternoon.  I  observe  this,  that  when  I  was 
at  New  York,  when  I  meditated  on  things  of  a  religious  nature,  I 
used  to  conceive  of  myself  as  walking  in  the  fields  at  home ;  but 
now  I  am  at  home,  I  conceive  of  m^yself  as  walking  in  the  fields, 
which  I  used  to  frequent  at  New  York.  I  think  it  a  very  good 
way,  to  examine  dreams  every  morning  when  I  awake  ;  what  are 
the  natm-e,  circumstances,  principles  and  ends  of  my  imaginary 
actions  and  passions  in  them ;  in  order  to  discern  what  are  my  pre- 
vailing mclinations,  &:c. 

Saturday  night.  May  4.  Ahhough  I  have,  in  some  measure, 
subdued  a  disposition  to  chide  and  fret,  yet  I  find  a  certain  inclina- 


LlF-t:    ©P    PRESIDENT    EDWARD3.  85 

tiOn,  which  is  not  agreeable  to  christian  sweetness  of  temper  and 
conversation:  either  too  much  dogmaticahiess  or  too  much  egotism, 
a  disposition  to  manifest  my  own  dislike  and  scorn,  and  my  own 
freedom  from  those  which  are  innocent,  sinless,  yea  common  infir- 
mities of  men,  and  many  other  such  like  things.  O  that  God 
would  help  me  to  discover  all  the  flaws  and  defects  of  my  temper 
and  conversation,  and  help  me  in  the  difficult  work  of  amending 
them;  and  that  he  would  grant  me  so  full  a  measure  of  vital  Chris- 
tianity, that  the  foundation  of  all  these  disagreeable  irregularities 
may  be  destroyed,  and  the  contrary  sweetnesses  and  beauties  may 
of  themselves  naturally  follow. 

Sabbath  morning,  May  5.     Made  the  47th  Resolution. 

Monday  morning,  May  6.  Ithmk  it  best  commonly  to  come 
before  God  three  times  in  a  day,  except  I  find  a  great  inaptitude  to 
that  duty. 

Saturday  night,  May  11.  I  have  been  to  blame,  the  month 
past,  in  not  laying  violence  enough  to  my  inclination,  to  force  my- 
self to  a  better  improvement  of  time.  Have  been  tardy  ^\^th  re- 
spect to  the  47th  Resolution.  Have  also  been  negligent  about 
keeping  my  thoughts,  when  joining  with  others  in  prayer. 

Sabbath-day  morning,  May  12.  I  have  lost  that  relish  of  the 
Scriptures  and  other  good  books,  which  I  had  five  or  six  months 
ago.  Resolved,  When  I  find  in  myself  the  least  disposition  to  ex- 
ercise good  nature,  that  I  will  then  strive  most  to  feel  good  na- 
turedly.  At  noon. — Observe  to  remember  the  meditations  which 
I  had  at  Westchester,  as  I  was  coming  from  New  York;  and  those 
which  I  had  in  the  orchard  ;  and  those  under  the  oak-tree.  This 
day,  and  the  last  night,  I  read  over  and  reviewed  those  reflexions 
and  remarks,  which  I  find  to  be  a  very  beneficial  thing  to  me. — 
After  the  afternoon  meeting. — I  think  I  find  in  my  heart  to  be  glad 
from  the  hopes  I  have,  that  my  eternity  is  to  be  spent  in  sphitual 
and  holy  joys,  arising  from  the  manifestation  of  God's  love,  an  d 
the  exercise  of  holiness,  and  a  burning  love  to  him. 

Saturday  night,  May  18.  This  week  past,  spent  in  journeying 
to  Norwich,  and  the  towns  thereabouts.  This  day  returned,  and 
received  a  letter,  from  my  dear  friend,  Mr.  John  Smith. — The 
last  Wednesday,  took  up  a  resolution,  to  refrain  from  all  manner  of 
e\il  speaking,  for  one  w^eek,  to  try  it,  and  see  the  effect  of  it :  hop- 
ing, if  that  evil  speaking,  which  I  used  to  allow  myself  in,  and  to 
account  lawful,  agreeably  to  the  resolutions  I  have  formed  concern- 
ing it,  were  not  lawful,  or  best,  I  should  hereby  discover  it,  and  get 
the  advantage  of  temptations  to  it,  and  so  deceive  myself,  into  a 
strict  adherence  to  my  dut}^,  respecting  that  matter ; — that  that  cor- 
ruption, which  I  cannot  conquer  by  main  sti-ength,  I  may  get  the 
victory  of  by  stratagem.  I  find  the  effect  of  it  already  to  be,  to 
make  me  apt  to  take  it  for  granted,  that  what  I  have  resolved  on 
this  week,  is  a  duty  to  be  observed  for  ever. 


86  LlFt    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARI>^* 

I  now  plainly  perceive,  what  great  obligations  I  am  under,  to  lovis 
and  honour  my  parents.  I  have  great  reason  to  believe,  that  their 
counsel  and  education,  have  been  my  making;  though,  in  tlie  time 
of  it,  it  seemed  to  do  me  so  little  good.  I  have  good  reason  to 
bop 3^  that  their  prayers  for  me  have  been,  in  many  things,  very 
powerful  and  prevalent,  that  God  has,  in  many  things,  taken  me 
uni'er  his  care  and  guidance,  provision  and  direction,  in  answer  to 
then-  prayers  for  me.  I  was  never  made  so  sensible  of  it,  as  now, 
I  think  it  the  best  way,  in  general,  not  to  seek  for  honour,  in  any 
otlier  way,  than  by  seeking  to  be  good,  and  to  do  good.  I  may 
pursue  knowledge,  rehgion,  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  good  of  man- 
kind, w^ith  the  utmost  vigour ;  but,  am  to  leave  the  honour  of  it, 
entirely  at  God's  disposal,  as  a  thing  with  which  I  have  no  immedi- 
ate concern ;  no,  not  although,  by  possessing  that  honour,  I  have 
the  greater  opportunity  to  do  good. 

Mem.  To  be  particularly  careful,  lest  I  should  be  tardy  in  any 
point,  w^herein  I  have  been  neghgent,  or  have  erred,  in  days,  weeks, 
months,  or  years  past. 

Sabbath-day  morning,  May  19.  With  respect  to  my  journey 
last  w^eek,  I  was  not  careful  enough,  to  watch  opportunities  of  sol- 
emnly approaching  to  God,  three  times  a  day.  The  last  week, 
when  I  was  about  to  take  up  the  Wednesday  resolution,  it  was  pro- 
posed to  me,  in  my  thoughts,  to  omit  it  until  I  got  home  again,  be- 
cause there  would  be  a  more  convenient  opportunity.  Thus  am  I 
ready  to  look  at  any  thing  as  an  excuse,  to  grow  slack  in  my  Chris- 
tian course. — Jit  night.  Concluded  to  add  to  my  enquiries,  as  to  the 
spending  of  time — at  the  beginning  of  the  day,  or  the  period.  What 
can  I  do  for  the  good  of  men  ? — and,  at  the  end,  What  have  I  done 
for  their  good  ? 

Tuesday  morning,  May  21.  My  conscience  is,  undoubtedly, 
more  calm,  since  my  last  Wednesday  resolution,  than  it  was  before. 

Wednesday  morning,  May  22.  Memorandum.  To  take  special 
care  of  the  following  things :  evil  speaking,  fretting,  eating,  drink- 
ing and  sleeping,  speaking  simple  verity,  joining  in  prayer,  slighti- 
ness  in  secret  prayer,  listlessness  and  negligence,  and  thoughts  that 
cherish  sin. 

Saturday  morning,  May  25.  As  I  was  this  morning  reading  the 
17th  Resolution,  it  was  suggested  to  me,  that  if  I  w^ere  now  to  die, 
I  should  wish  that  I  had  prayed  more,  that  God  would  make  me 
know  my  state,  whether  it  be  good  or  bad,  and  that  I  had  taken 
more  pains  and  care,  to  see  and  narrowly  search  into  tliat  matter. 
Wherefore,  Mem.  for  the  future,  most  nicely  and  diligently  to  look 
into  the  opinions  of  our  old  divines,  concerning  conversion.  This 
morning  made  the  48th  Resolution. 

Monday  afternoon.  May  27.  Memorandum.  Not  only  to  keep 
from  an  air  of  dislike,  anger  and  fretfulness,  in  discourse  or  conver- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARD!5.  87 

sation ;  but,  let  me  also  have  as  much  of  an  appearance  of  love, 
cheerfulness,  and  benignity,  as  may  be,  with  a  good  grace. — These 
following  things,  especially,  to  beware  of,  in  order  to  the  better  ob- 
servation of  the  47th  Resolution  :  distrust,  discontent,  uneasniess, 
and  a  complaining  temper,  self-opinion,  self-confidence,  ineiuncho- 
ly,  moroseness,  slight  antipathy,  privacy,  indolence,  and  uant  of 
resolution — to  beware  of  any  thing,  in  discourse  or  conversation, 
that  savours  of  these. 

Saturday  night,  June  8,  at  Boston.  When  I  find  myself  listless 
and  dull,  and  not  easily  affected  by  reading  rehgious  books,  then  to 
read  my  resolutions,  remarks,  reflexions,  &lc. — One  thing,  that 
would  be  of  great  advantage  to  me,  in  reading  to  my  profit,  would 
be,  the  endeavouring,  with  all  my  might,  to  keep  the  image  and 
picture  of  the  thing  in  my  mind,  and  be  careful  that  I  do  not  lose 
it,  in  the  chain  of  the  discourse. 

Sabbath-day,  June  9,  after  the  afternoon  meeting.  Mem,  Wlien 
I  fear  misfortunes,  to  examine  whether  I  have  done  my  duty  -;  and 
at  the  same  time,  to  resolve  to  do  it,  and  let  it  go,  and  be  concern- 
ed about  notliing,  but  my  duty  and  my  sm. 

Saturday  morning,  June  15,  at  Windsor.  Have  been  to  blame, 
this  journey,  with  respect  to  strict  temperance,  in  eating,  dniiLing 
and  sleeping,  and  in  suffering  too  small  matters  to  give  interruption 
to  my  wonted  chain  of  religious  exercises. — Concluded  to  protract 
the  Wednesday  Resolution,  to  the  end  of  my  hfe. 

Tuesday  morning,  June  18.  Mem.  To  do  that  part,  which  I 
conveniently  can,  of  my  stated  exercise,  while  about  other  business^ 
such  as  self-examination,  resolutions,  &cC.,  that  I  may  do  the  re- 
mainder in  less  time. 

Friday  afternoon,  June  21.  I  have  abtmdant  cause,  O  my  mer- 
ciful Father,  to  love  thee  ardently,  and  greatly,  to  bless  and  praise 
thee,  that  thou  hast  heard  me,  in  my  earnest  request,  and  so  hast  an- 
swered my  prayer,  for  mercy,  to  keep  me  from  decay  and  smking. 
O,  graciously,  of  thy  mere  goodness,  still  continue  to  pity  my  misery, 
by  reason  of  my  sinfulness.  O,  my  dear  Redeemer,  I  commit  my- 
self, together  with  my  prayer  and  thanksgiving,  into  thine  hand ! 

Saturday  morning,  June  22.  Altered  the  oGth  Resolution,  to 
make  it  the  same  with  the  Wednesday  Resolution.  If  I  should 
take  special  care,  every  day,  to  rise  above,  or  not  to  fall  below,  or 
to  fall  as  litde  as  I  possibly  could,  below  what  I  was  the  day  be- 
fore, it  would  be  of  great  advantage  to  me. — I  take  notice,  that 
most  of  these  determinations,  when  I  first  resolve  them,  seem  as  if 
they  would  be  much  more  beneficial,  than  I  find  them. 

Tuesday  morning,  June  25.  Last  Sabbath,  at  Boston,  reading 
the  6th,  7th,  and  8th  verses  of  the  6di  to  the  Ephesians,  concluded 
that  it  would  be  much  to  my  advantage,  to  take  the  greatest  care^ 
never  to  do  any  tiling  but  my  duty,  and  then  to  do  it  willinglvj  cf.eer- 
fully,  and  gladly,  whatever  danger  or  unpleasant  ckcumstances  if 


S^  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS* 

may  be  attended  with ;  with  good-will  doing  it,  as  to  tlie  Lord,  not 
as  pleasing  man,  or  myself,  knowing  that  whatsoever  good  thing 
any  man  doth,  the  same  shall  he  receive  of  the  Lord. 

Saturday  mornings  June  25.  It  is  best  to  be  careful  in  prayer, 
not  to  put  up  those  petitions,  of  wliich  1  do  not  feel  a  sincere  de- 
sire :  thereby,  my  prayer  is  rendered  less  sincere,  less  acceptable 
to  God,  and  less  useful  to  myself. 

Monday  noon,  July  1.  I  find  I  am  not  careful  enough,  to  keep 
out  all  thoughts,  but  religious  ones,  on  the  Sabbath.  When  I  find 
the  least  uneasiness,  in  doing  my  duty,  to  fly  to  the  43d  Resolution. 

Wednesday  night,  July  3.  I  am  too  negligent,  with  respect  to 
improving  petty  opportunities  of  doing  good ;  thinking,  that  the 
good  will  be  very  small,  and  unextended,  and  not  worth  the  pains. 
Resolved,  to  regulate  this,  as  that  which  is  wrong,  and  what  ought 
not  to  be. — Again  confirmed,  by  experience,  of  the  happy  effects 
of  a  strict  temperance,  with  respect  both  to  body  and  mind. 

Thursday  morning,  July  4.  The  last  night,  in  bed,  when  think- 
ing of  death,  I  thought,  if  I  was  then  to  die,  that,  which  would  make 
me  die,  in  the  least  degree  fearfully,  would  be,  the  want  of  a  trust- 
ing and  relying  on  Jesus  Christ,  so  distinctly  and  plainly,  as  has 
been  described  by  divines ;  my  not  having  experienced  so  particular 
a  venturing,  and  entirely  trusting  my  soul  on  Christ,  after  the  fears 
of  hell,  and  terrors  of  the  Lord,  encouraged  by  the  mercy,  faith- 
fulness and  promises,  of  God,  and  the  gracious  invitations  of  Christ. 
Then,  I  thought  I  could  go  out  of  the  world,  as  much  assured  of 
my  salvation,  as  I  was  of  Christ's  faithfulness,  knowing  that,  if 
Christ  did  not  fail  me,  he  would  save  me,  who  had  trusted  in  him,  on 
his  word.  At  night. — Whenever  things  begin  to  seem  in  the  least 
out  of  order,  when  tilings  begin  to  feel  uneasy  witliin,  or  irregular 
without,  then  to  examine  myself,  by  the  strictest  examination. — 
Resolved,  for  the  future,  to  observe  rather  more  of  meekness,  mod- 
eration and  temper,  in  disputes. 

Friday  morning,  Jidy  5.  Last  night,  w^hen  thinking  what  I 
should  wish  I  had  done,  that  I  had  not  done,  if  I  was  then  to  die  ; 
1  thought  I  should  \dsh,  that  I  had  been  more  importunate  vAxh. 
God,  to  fit  me  for  death,  and  lead  me  into  all  truth,  and  that  I  might 
Tiot  be  deceived,  about  the  state  of  my  soul. — In  the  forenoon,  made 
the  50th  Resolution. 

Thursday  night,  July  W.  This  day,  too  impatient,  at  the 
Church  meeting.  Snares  and  briars  have  been  in  my  way,  this 
afternoon.  It  is  good,  at  such  times,  for  one  to  manifest  good  na- 
t'.u'e,  even  to  one's  disadvantage,  and  so  as  would  be  imprudent,  at 
©ther  times. 

Saturday  morning,  July  13.  Transferred  the  conclusion  of 
June  9,  to  the  Resolution,  No.  57  ;  and  the  conclusion  of  May 
27,  to  No.  58  ;  and  May  12,  and  July  11,  to  No.  59  ;  and  of  Julv 
4,  at  night,  to  No.  60  ;  and  of  May  24,  to  No.  61  ;  and  of  JuTie 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EEWARDS.  89 

25,  to  No.  62  ;  and,  about  noon,  the  Resolution  of  January  14,  to 
No.  63. — In  times  past,  I  have  been  too  free,  in  judging  of  the 
hearts  of  men,  from  their  actions. 

Thursday,  July  18,  near  sunset.  Resolved,  to  make  sure  of 
that  sign,  which  the  Apostle  James  gives,  of  a  perfect  man  :  James 
iii.  2.  "If  any  man  offend  not  in  word,  the  same  is  a  perfect  man, 
and  able,  also,  to  bridle  the  whole  body. 

Friday  afternoon,  July  19.  1  Peter,  ii.  18.  Servants,  be  sub- 
ject to  your  masters,  with  all  fear  ;  not  only  to  the  good  and  gen- 
tle, but  also  to  the  froward  :  How  then,  ought  children  to  honour 
then-  parents. — This  verse,  together  with  the  two  following,  viz. 
*'  For  this  is  thank-worthy,  if  a  man,  for  conscience  toward  God, 
endure  grief,  suffering  WTongfully  ;  for  what  glory  is  it,  if,  when  ye 
be  buffeted  for  your  faults,  ye  shall  take  it  patiently ;  but  if,  Avhen 
ye  do  w^ell  and  suffer  for  it,  ye  take  it  patiently,  tliis  is  acceptable 
with  God." 

Saturday  noon,  July  20.  Dr.  Manton's  Sermon,  on  the  119th 
Psalm,  pp.  140,  141,  Of  Evil-speaking,  Use  2d.  To  them  that 
either  devise  or  receive  reproaches.  Both  are  very  sinful.  Hy- 
pocrites, and  men  that  put  themselves  into  a  garb  of  religion,  are 
all  for  censuring,  take  a  mighty  freedom  that  way  :  these  men  be- 
wray the  rottenness  of  their  hearts. — Alas,  in  our  own  sight,  we 
should  be  the  worst  of  men.  The  children  of  God  do  ever  thus 
speak  of  themselves,  as  the  least  of  saints,  the  greatest  of  sinners — 
"  more  brutish  than  any  man" — "  of  sinners,  whereof  I  am  the 
chief."  You  rob  them  of  the  most  precious  treasure.  He  that 
robs  thee  of  thy  name,  is  the  worst  kind  of  thief.  Prov.  xxii.  K 
"  A  good  name  is  rather  to  be  chosen,  than  great  riches." — Object. 
But,  must  we,  in  no  case,  speak  evil  of  another  ;  or  may  we  not 
speak  of  another's  sin,  in  any  case  ? — Solution  1 .  It  is  a  very  hard 
matter,  to  speak  evil  of  another,  without  sin. — In  one  way,  or  an- 
other, we  shall  dash  upon  the  command  :  better  let  it  alone. — ^If 
you  speak  of  the  failings  of  another,  it  should  be,  ^^^th  tenderness, 
and  grief;  as,  when  they  are  incorrigible,  and  likely  to  infect 
others  ;  or,  when  it  is  for  the  manifest  glory  of  God. — To  them, 
that  receive  the  slander  ;  he  is  a  slanderer,  who  wrongs  his  neigh- 
bour's credit,  by  upholdmg  an  ill-report  against  him. 

Monday  afternoon,  July  22.  I  find,  it  would  be  desirable,  on 
many  accounts,  always  to  endeavor,  to  wear  a  benign  aspect,  and 
air  of  acting  and  speaking,  in  all  companies,  except  it  should  so 
happen,  that  duty  requires  it  otherwise. — I  am  afraid,  I  am  now  de- 
fective, in  not  doing  whatever  my  hand  finds  to  do,  with  my  might, 
with  respect  to  my  particular  affairs.  Remember  to  watch,  see 
and  know  how  it  is.  Vid.  Aug.  31. — I  see  there  is  danger,  of  my 
be.ng  drawn  into  transgression,  by  the  power  of  such  temptations, 
as  the  fear  of  seeming  uncivil,  and  of  offending  friends.  Watch 
aganist  it. — I  might  still  help  myself,  and  vet  not  hmt  mvself,  by 

Vol.  I.  12 


90  l-lf  E  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

going,  with  greater  expedition,  from  one  thing  to  another,  without 
being  quite  so  nice. 

Tuesday  afternoon,  July  23.  When  I  find  those  groanings 
which  cannot  be  uttered,  of  which  the  Apostle  speaks,  and  those 
soul-breakings  for  the  longing  it  hath,  of  which  the  Psalmist 
speaks,  (Ps.  cxix.  20,)  Resolved,  to  favour  and  promote  them,  to 
the  utmost  of  my  power,  and  not  to  be  weary  of  earnesdy  endeav- 
ouring to  vent  my  desires,  and  not  to  be  weary  of  the  repetitions  of 
such  earnestness. 

To  count  it  all  joy,  when  I  have  occasions  of  great  self-denial; 
because,  then,  I  have  a  glorious  opportunity  of  giving  deadly 
wo\mds  to  the  body  of  sin,  and  of  greatly  confirming,  and  estab- 
lishing the  new  creature.  I  seek  to  mortify  sin,  and  increase  in 
hohness.     These  are  the  best  opportunities,  according  to  Jan.  14. 

To  improve  aftlictions,  of  all  kinds,  as  blessed  opportunities  of 
forcibly  bearing  on,  in  my  Christian  course,  notwithstanding  that 
which  is  so  very  apt  to  discourage  me,  and  to  damp  the  vigour  of 
my  mind,  and  to  make  me  lifeless  ;  also,  as  opportunities  of  trust- 
ing and  confiding  in  God,  and  getting  a  habit  of  so  doing,  accord- 
ing to  the  57th  Resolution  ;  and  as  an  opportunity  of  rending  my 
heart  off  from  the  world,  and  setting  it  on  heaven  alone,  according 
to  Jan.  10,  and  the  43d  and  45th  Resolutions  ;  and  according  to 
Jan.  12,  Feb.  17,  and  21,  and  May  1. — To  improve  them,  also, 
as  opportunities  to  repent  of,  and  bewail  my  sin,  and  abhor  myself, 
and  as  a  blessed  opportunity  to  exercise  patience,  to  trust  in  God, 
and  divert  my  mind  from  the  aftliction,  by  fixing  myself  in  religious 
exercises.  Also,  let  me  comfort  myself,  that  it  is  the  very  nature 
of  afflictions,  to  make  the  heart  better ;  and,  if  I  am  made  better  by 
them,  what  need  I  be  concerned,  however  grievous  they  seem,  for 
the  present. 

Wednesday  night,  July  24.  I  begin  to  find  the  success  of  my 
striving,  in  joining  with  others,  in  the  worship  of  God  ;  insomuch, 
that  there  is  a  prospect,  of  making  it  easy  and  delightful,  and  very 
profitable,  in  time.  Wherefore,  Resolved,  not  to  cease  striving, 
but  to  continue  it,  and  re-double  it. 

Thursday  morning,  July  25.  Altered,  and  anew  established, 
the  8th  Resolufion.  Also,  established  my  determination  of  April 
1. — Memorandiim.  At  a  convenient  time,  to  make  an  alphabet  of 
these  Resolutions  and  Remarks,  that  I  may  be  able  to  educe  t'  em, 
on  proper  occasions,  suitable  to  the  condition  I  am  in,  and  the  duty 
I  am  engaged  in. 

Friday  afternoon,  July  26.  To  be  particularly  careful,  to  keep 
up,  inviolably,  a  trust  and  reliance,  ease  and  entire  rest,  in  God,  in 
all  conditions,  according  to  the  57tli  Resolution ;  for  this,  I  have 
found  to  be  wonderfully  advantageous  to  me. — Atnis-ht.  Resolved, 
veiy  much  to  exercise  myself  in  this,  '-M  my  life  long  :  viz.  with 
the  greatest  openness,  of  which  I  am  capable,  to  declare  my  ways 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  91 

to  God,  and  lay  open  my  soul  to  him  : — ail  my  sins,  temptations, 
difficulties,  sorrows,  fears,  hopes,  desires,  and  every  tiling,  and  ev- 
ery circumstance,  according  to  Dr.  Manton's  27th  Sermon,  on  the 
119th  Psalm. 

Saturday  forenoon^  July  27.  When  I  am  violently  beset  with 
temptation,  or  cannot  rid  myself  of  e\il  thoughts,  to  do  some  sum 
in  Arithmetic,  or  Geometry,  or  some  other  study,  which  necessarily 
engages  all  my  thoughts,  and  unavoidably  keeps  them  from  wan- 
dering. 

Monday  afternoon^  Jidy  29.  When  I  am  concerned  how  I  shall 
prepare  any  thing  to  public  acceptance,  to  be  very  careful  that  1 
have  it  very  clear  to  me,  to  do  what  is  duty  and  prudence  in  the 
matter. — I  sometimes  find  myself  able  to  trust  God,  and  to  be  pretty 
easy  when  the  event  is  uncertain ;  but  I  find  it  difficult,  when  I  am 
convinced  beforehand,  that  the  event  will  be  adverse.  I  find  that 
this  arises,  1 .  From  my  want  of  faith,  to  believe  that  that  particular 
advantage  will  be  more  to  my  advantage,  than  disadvantage:  2. 
From  the  want  of  a  due  sense  of  the  real  preferableness  of  that 
good,  which  will  be  obtained,  to  that  which  is  lost :  3.  From  the 
want  of  a  spirit  of  adoption. 

Tuesday  night,  July  30.  Have  concluded  to  endeavour  to 
work  myself  mto  duties  by  searching  and  tracing  back  all  the 
real  reasons  why  I  do  them  not,  and  narrowly  searching  out  all  the 
subtle  subterfuges  of  my  thoughts,  and  answering  them  to  the  ut- 
most of  my  power,  that  I  may  know^  what  are  the  very  first  origi- 
nals of  my  defect,  as  with  respect  to  w  ant  of  repentance,  love  to 
God,  loathing  of  myself, — ^to  do  this  sometimes  in  sermons. — Vid. 
Resolution  8.  Especially,  to  take  occasion  therefrom,  to  bewail 
those  sins  of  which  I  have  been  guilty,  that  are  akin  to  them ;  as 
for  instance,  from  pride  in  others,  to  take  occasion  to  bewail  my 
pride ;  from  their  malice,  to  take  occasion  to  bewail  the  same  in 
myself:  when  I  am  evil-spoken  of,  to  take  occasion  to  bewail  my 
evil  speaking :  and  so  of  other  sins.  Mem,  To  receive  slanders 
and  reproaches,  as  glorious  opportunities  of  doing  this. 

Wednesday  afternoon,  July  31.  After  afflictions,  to  enquire, 
■what  I  am  the  better  for  them ;  what  good  I  have  got  by  them  ;  and 
what  I  might  have  got  by  them. — Never,  in  the  least,  to  seek  to 
hear  sarcastical  relations  of  others'  fauhs.  Never  to  give  credit  to 
any  thing  said  against  others,  except  there  is  very  plain  reason  for 
it;  nor  to  behave  in  any  respect  otherwise  for  it. 

Sabbath  rtiorning,  Aug.  4.  Concluded  at  last,  at  those  times 
when  I  am  in  the  best  frames,  to  set  down  the  aspirations  of  my 
heart,  as  soon  as  I  can  get  time. 

Tuesday  afternoon,  Aug,  6.  Very  much  convinced  of  the  ex- 
traordinary deceitfulness  of  the  heart,  and  how  exceedingly  affec- 
tion or  appetite  blinds  the  mind,  and  brings  it  into  entire  subjection. 
There  are  many  things  which  I  should  really  think  to  be  my  duty. 


02  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

if  I  had  tlie  same  affections,  as  when  I  first  came  from  New  York  ; 
which  now  I  tbunk  not  so  to  be.  How  doth  Appetite  stretch  the 
Reason,  to  bring  both  ends  together. 

Wednesday  forenoon,  Aug.  7.  To  esteem  it  as  some  advan- 
tage, that  the  duties  of  rehgion  are  difficult,  and  that  many  difficul- 
ties are  sometmies  to  be  gone  through,  in  the  way  of  duty.  Reh- 
gion is  the  sweeter,  and  what  is  gamed  by  labour  is  abundantly 
more  precious,  as  a  woman  loves  her  child  the  more  for  having 
brought  It  forth  with  travail ;  and  even  to  Christ  Jesus  himself  his 
mediatorial  glory,  his  victory  and  triumph,  the  kingdom  vvhtch  he 
hath  obtained,  how  much  more  glorious  is  it,  how  much  more  ex- 
ceiient  and  precious,  for  his  having  wrought  it  out  by  such  agonies. 

Friday  afternoon,  Aug.  9.  With  respect  to  the  important  busi- 
ness which  1  have  now  on  hand,*  Resolved,  To  do  whatever  I  think 
to  be  duty,  prudence  and  dihgence  in  the  matter,  and  to  avoid  os- 
tentation ;  and  if  I  succeed  not,  and  how  many  disappointments 
soever  I  meet  with,  to  be  entirely  easy  ;  only  to  take  occasion  to 
acknowledge  my  unworthiness ;  and  if  it  should  actually  not  succeed, 
and  should  not  find  acceptance,  as  I  expected,  yet  not  to  afflict 
myself  about  it,  accordtng  to  the  57th  Resolution.  At  night. — One 
thing  that  may  be  a  good  help  towards  thinking  profitably  in  times 
of  vacation,  is,  when  I  find  a  profitable  thought  that  I  can  fix  my 
mind  on,  to  follow  it  as  far  as  I  possibly  can  to  advantage. — I  mis- 
sed it,  when  a  graduate  at  College,  both  in  point  of  duty  and  pru- 
dence, in  going  against  a  universal  benevolence  and  good-nature. 

Saturday  morning,  Aug.  10.  Transferred  my  determination  of 
July  23,  to  the  64th  Resolution,  and  that  of  July  26,  to  the  65th. 
About  sunset. — As  a  help  against  that  inward  shameful  h}^ocrisy, 
to  confess  frankly  to  myself  all  that  which  I  find  in  myself,  either 
infirmity  or  sin ;  also  to  confess  to  God,  and  open  the  whole  case 
to  him,  when  it  is  what  concerns  religion,  and  humbly  and  earnestly 
implore  of  him  tlie  help  that  is  needed  ;  not  in  the  least  to  endea- 
vour to  smother  over  what  is  in  my  heart,  but  to  bring  it  all  out  to 
God  and  my  conscience.  By  this  means,  I  may  arrive  at  a  greater 
knowledge  of  my  own  heart. — When  I  find  difficulty  in  finding  a 
subject  of  religious  meditation,  in  vacancies,  to  pitch  at  random  on 
what  alights  to  my  thouglits,  and  to  go  from  that  to  other  things 
which  that  shall  bring  into  my  mind,  and  follow  this  progression  as 
a  clue,  till  I  come  to  what  I  can  meditate  on  with  profit  and  atten- 
tion, and  then  to  follow  that,  according  to  last  Thursday's  determi- 
nation. 

Sabbath  afternoon,  Aug.  11.  Resolved  always  to  do  that,  vdiich 
I  shall  wish  I  had  done  when  I  see  others  do  it;  as,  for  instance, 
sometimes  I  argue  with  myself,  tliat  such  an  act  of  good  nature, 
kindness,  forbearance  or  forgiveness,  he.  is  not  my  duty,  because 
it  will  have  such  and  such  consequences  :  yet  when  I  see  others  do 

*  Peraaps  the  pr.paration  of  a  pub  ic.  exercise  for  tlie  college  commence- 
raent,  when  he  received  his  Master's  Decree. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDK.  9^ 

it,  then  it  appears  amiable  to  me,  and  I  wish  I  had  done  it,  and 
see  that  none  of  these  feared  inconveniences  follow. 

Monday  jnorning,  Aug.  12.  The  chief  thing,  that  now  makes 
me  in  any  measure  to  question  my  good  estate,  is  my  not  hav- 
ing experienced  conversion  in  those  particular  steps,  whereir<  the 
people  Oi  New  England,  and  anciently  the  Dissenters  of  Old  Eng- 
land, used  to  experience  it.  Wheretbre,  now  resolved,  never  to- 
leave  searching,  till  I  have  satisfyingly  found  out  tlie  very  bottom 
and  foundation,  the  real  reason,  why  they  used  to  be  converter,  in 
those  steps. 

Tuesday  morning,  Aug.  13.  Have  sinned,  in  not  being  careful 
enough  to  please  my  parents.  Afternoon.. — I  find  it  woiilri  be 
very  m.?ch  to  my  advantage,  to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the 
Scriptares.  When  I  am  readmg  doctrinal  books,  or  books  of  f^on- 
troversy,  I  can  proceed  with  abundantly  more  confidence  :  can  see 
on  what  footing  and  foundation  I  stand. 

Saturday  noon,  Aug.  17.  Let  there,  in  tlie  general,  be  some- 
thing of  benevolence  in  all  that  I  speak. 

Tuesday  night,  Aug.  20.  Not  careful  enough  in  watching  op- 
portunities of  bringing  in  christian  discourse  with  a  good  grace.  Do 
not  exercise  myself  half  enough  in  this  holy  art ;  neither  have  I 
courage  enough  to  carry  it  on  with  a  good  grace.      T^id.  Sept.  2. 

Saturday  Morning,  Aug.  24.  Have  not  practiced  quite  right 
about  revenge  ;  though  I  have  not  done  any  thing  directly  out  of 
revenge,  yet,  I  have  perhaps,  omitted  some  things,  that  I  should 
othervvise  have  done  ;  or  have  altered  the  circumstances  and  man- 
ner of  my  actions,  hoping  for  a  secret  sort  of  revenge  thereby.  1 
have  felt  a  little  sort  of  satisfaction,  when  I  thought  that  such  an  evil 
would  happen  to  them  by  my  actions,  as  would  make  them  repent 
what  they  have  done.  To  be  satisfied  for  their  repenting,  when 
they  repent  from  a  sense  of  their  error,  is  right.  But  a  satisfaction 
in  their  repentance,  because  of  the  e\il  that  is  brought  upon  tliem, 
is  Revenge.  This  is  in  some  measure,  a  taking  the  matter  out  of 
God's  hands  when  he  w^as  about  to  manage  it,  who  is  better  able  to 
plead  it  for  me.  Well,  therefore,  may  he  leave  me  to  boggle  at 
it. — Kear  sunset.  I  yet  find  a  want  of  dependence  on  God,  to 
look  unto  him  for  success,  and  to  have  my  eyes  unto  him  for  his 
gracious  disposal  of  the  matter  :  for  want  of  a  sense  of  God's  par- 
ticular influence,  in  ordering  and  directing  all  affairs  and  business- 
es, of  whatever  nature,  however  naturally,  or  fortuitously,  they  may 
seem  to  succeed  ;  and  for  want  of  a  sense  of  those  great  advanta- 
ges, that  would  follow  therefrom  :  not  considering  that  God  will 
grant  success,  or  make  the  contrary  more  to  my  advantage  ;  or 
will  make  the  advantage  accruing  from  the  unsuccessfulness.  more 
sensible  and  apparent ;  or  will  make  it  of  less  present  and  outv  rird 
disadvantage  ;  or  will  some  w^ay,  so  order  the  circumstcUices,  rs  to 
make  the  unsuccessfulness  more  easv  to  bear;  or  several,  or  all  of 


M  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAftDS. 

these.  This  want  of  dependence,  is  likewise  for  want  of  the 
tilings  mentioned,  July  29. — Remember  to  examine  all  Nar- 
rations, I  can  call  to  mind  5  whether  they  are  exactly  according  to 
verity. 

Wednesday  night,  Aug.  28.  When  I  want  books  to  read  ;  yea, 
when  I  have  not  very  good  books,  not  to  spend  time  in  reading 
them,  but  in  reading  the  scriptures,  in  perusing  Resolutions,  Re- 
flexions, &:c.,  in  writing  on  Types  of  the  Scripture,  and  other 
things,  in  studying  the  Languages,  and  in  spending  more  time  in 
private  duties.  To  do  this,  when  there  is  a  prospect  of  wanting 
time  for  the  purpose.  Remember  as  soon  as  I  can,  to  get  a  piece 
of  slate,  or  something,  whereon  I  can  make  short  memorandums 
Avhile  travelling. 

Thursday,  Aug.  29.  Two  great  Qucerenda  with  me  now  are : 
How  shall  I  make  advantage  of  all  the  time  I  spend  in  journeys } 
and  how  shall  I  make  a  glorious  improvement  of  afflictions. 

Saturday-night,  Aug.  31.  The  objection,  which  my  corrup- 
tions make  against  doing  whatever  my  hands  find  to  do  with  my 
might,  is,  that  it  is  a  constant  mortification.  Let  this  objection 
by  no  means  ever  prevail. 

Sahhath  Morning,  Sept.  I.  When  I  am  \iolently  beset  with 
worldly  thoughts,  for  a  relief,  to  think  of  Death,  and  the  doleful 
circumstances  of  it. 

Monday  Afternoon,  Sept.  2.  To  help  me  to  enter  with  a  good 
grace,  into  religious  conversation;  when  I  am  conversing  on  mo- 
rality, to  turn  it  over  by  application,  exempUfication  or  otherwise, 
to  Christianity.  Vid.  Aug.  28  and  Jan.  15. — At  night.  There 
is  much  folly,  v\hen  I  am  quite  sure  I  am  in  the  right,  and  others 
are  positive  in  contradicting  me,  in  entering  into  a  vehement,  or 
long  debate  upon  it. 

Saturday,  Sept.  7.  Concluded  no  more  to  suffer  myself  to  be 
interrupted,  or  diverted  from  important  business,  by  those  tilings, 
from  which  I  expect,  though  some,  yet  buthttle  profit. 

Sabbath  Morning,  Sept.  8.  I  have  been  much  to  blame,  for 
expressing  so  much  impatience  for  delays  in  journeys,  and  the 
like. 

Sabbath  Evening,  Sej^t.  22.  To  praise  God,  by  singing  Psalms 
in  prose,  and  by  singing  forth  the  meditations  of  my  heart  in  prose. 

Monday,  Sept.  23.  I  observe  that  old  men  seldom  have  any 
advantage  of  new  discoveries,  because  they  are  beside  the  way  of 
thinking,  to  wliich  they  have  been  so  long  used.  Resolved,  if  ever 
I  live  to  years,  that  I  will  be  imparfial  to  hear  the  reasons  of  all 
pretended  discoveries,  and  receive  tliem  if  rational,  how^  long  so- 
ever I  have  been  used  to  another  w^ay  of  thinking.  My  time  is  so 
short,  that  I  have  not  time  to  perfect  myself  in  all  studies  :  Where- 
foj-e  resolved,  to  omit  and  put  off,  all  but  the  most  important  and 
needful  studies."^ 

"^  The  remainder  of  the  Diary  is  on  a  subsequent  page. 


CHAPTER  Vlil. 

Tlis  Tutorship. — Sickness. — Invitation  to  JVorthimpton. — Person- 
al JVarrative  continued. — Diary  conchide/L 

In  Sept.,  1723,  he  went  to  New-Haven,  and  received  bis  de- 
gree of  Master  of  Arts,  when  he  w^as  elected  a  Tutor  in  the  Col- 
lege. About  this  time,  several  congregations  invited  him  to  become 
their  minister ;  but,  being  fond  of  study,  both  by  nature  and  habit., 
and  conscious  how  much  it  would  promote  his  o\va  usefulness,  in 
his  profession,  he  wisely  declined  their  proposals.  As  diere  was 
no  immediate  vacancy,  in  the  office  of  Tutor,  he  passed  the  ensu- 
ing winter  and  spring  at  New-Haven,  in  study,  and  in  the  occasion- 
al discharge  of  the  active  duties  of  his  profession,  and  in  the  be- 
ginning of  June,  1724,  entered  on  the  instruction  of  a  class  in  the 
College. 

The  period  of  his  tutorship,  was  a  period  of  great  difficulty.  For 
a  long  time,  before  the  election  of  Mr.  Cuder  to  the  office  of  Rec- 
tor, the  College  had  been  in  a  state  of  open  revolt  against  the  legal 
government,  and,  as  we  have  already  seen,  had  withdrawn  from 
New-Haven.  Two  years  after  his  election,  in  Jan.  1721,  there' 
w^as  an  universal  insurrection  of  the  students,  wiiich,  though  after 
considerable  effort,  apparently  quieted,  resulted  in  a  state  of  ex- 
treme disorder  and  insubordination,  beyond  any  thing,  that  had 
been  known  before.*  In  1722,  Mr.  Cutler,  one  of  the  Tutors,  and 
tw-o  of  the  neighbouring  ministers,  renounced  their  connexion  with 
the  Presbyterian  Church,  and  publicly  declared  themselves  Epis- 
copalians. The  shock,  occasioned  by  this  event,  was  very  great, 
in  the  College,  in  the  town,  and  throughout  the  colony ;  and  a  se- 
ries of  controversies  grew"  out  of  it,  wiiich  lasted  for  many  years. 
In  consequence  of  this,  the  offices  of  these  gentlemen  were  vacat- 
ed, and  the  College  w^as  left,  for  four  years,  without  a  Head :  the 
Trustees  residing,  by  turns,  at  the  College,  and  each,  in  rotation, 
acting  as  vice-rector,  for  a  month.  Fortunately  however  for  the 
institution,  during  this  bereavement,  it  had  three  gentlemen,  in  tJie 
office  of  Tutor,  of  distinguished  talents  and  scholarship,  and  of 
great  resolution  and  firmness  of  character : — Mr.  William  Smith, 
of  the  class  of  1719,  and  chosen  Tutor  in  1722  ;  Mr.  Edwards  ; 


*  ri-ese  facts  are  particularly  mentioned,  in  a  letter  froiii  .Mr.  F.t] wards  (* 
his  father. 


96  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

and  Mr.  Dniiicl  Edwards,  his  uncle,  class-mate  and  room-mate, 
who  was  chosen  in  Sept.  1724.  On  these  three  gentlemen,  rll  of 
whom  were  young  men,  devolved,  almost  exclusively,  the  govern- 
ment and  instruction  of  the  College  ;  yet,  by  their  union,  energy, 
and  faithfulness,  they  introduced  among  the  students,  in  the  room 
of  their  former  neghgence  and  misrule,  habits  of  close  study,  and 
exact  subordination ;  and,  in  no  great  length  of  time,  rendered  the 
institution,  beyond  what  it  had  long  been,  flourishirig  aud  prosper- 
ous. The  late  President  Stiles,  who,  though  a  meinber  of  Col- 
lege a  considerable  time  after  this  period,  vv^s  personally  acquaint- 
ed with  the  three  gentlemen,  and  knew  well  the  history  of  their  ad- 
ministration, has  left  an  eulogy  on  the  three  united,  of  the  highest 
character.  "  The  Honourable  William  Smith,  the  Honourible 
Daniel  Edwards,  and  the  Rev.  President  Edwards,  were  the;  pil- 
lar Tutors,  and  the  glory  of  the  College,  at  the  critical  period,  be- 
tween Rector  Cutler  and  Rector  Williams.  Their  tutorial  renown 
was  great  and  excellent.  They  filled  and  sustained  their  offices, 
with  great  ability,  dignity,  and  honour.  For  the  honour  of  Htera- 
ture,  these  things  ought  not  to  be  forgotten." 

In  Sept.  1725,  immediately  after  the  commencement,  as  he  was 
preparing  to  set  out  for  his  father's  house,  he  w^as  taken  suddenly 
ill,  at  New-Haven  ;  but,  hoping  that  the  illness  was  not  severe,  and 
anxious  to  be  at  home  if  he  was  to  be  sick,  he  set  out  for  Wind- 
sor. The  fatigue  ot  travelling,  only  increased  his  illness,  and  he 
was  compelled  to  stop  at  North-Haven,  at  the  house  of  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Stiles,  where  he  was  confined,  by  severe  sickness,  about  three 
months :  during  the  greater  part  of  this  time,  his  mother  was  con- 
stantly with  him.  Her  husband,  writing  to  her  on  the  20th  of  Oc- 
tober, begs  her  to  spare  herself.  "  I  am  afraid,  you  are  taking  too 
great  a  burden  on  yourself,  in  tending  your  son,  both  day  and  night. 
I  beg  of  you,  therefore,  not  only  to  take  care  of  him,  but  of  your- 
self also.  Accept,  rather,  of  the  kindness  of  tlie  neighbours,  in 
watching  over  again,  than  outbid  your  own  strength,  which  is  but 
small,  by  overdoing."  She  could  not  leave  him,  till  about  the 
middle  of  November ;  and  it  was  some  time  in  the  winter,  before 
he  could  go  to  his  father's  house.  In  this  sickness,  he  speaks  of 
himself,  as  having  enjoyed  new,  and  most  refreshing,  manifestations 
of  the  presence  and  the  grace  of  God. 

After  he  had  held  the  office  of  Tutor,  upwards  of  two  years, 
with  the  highest  reputation,  he  received  proposals,  from  the  people 
of  Northampton,  to  become  their  minister.  Many  circumstances 
conspired,  to  prompt  his  acceptance.  He  was  familiarly  acquaint- 
ed with  the  place,  and  people.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Stoddard,  his  grand- 
father, a  man  of  great  dignity,  and  of  singular  weight  and  influence 
in  the  churches,  in  consequence  of  his  advanced  age,  stood  in 
need  of  his  assistance,  and  wished  him  to  be  his  colleague.  His 
parents,  and  his  other  friends,  all  desired  it.     The  situation  was, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  97 

in  itself,  respectable,  and  the  town  unusually  pleasant.  He  there- 
fore resigned  his  tutorship,  in  Sept.  1726,  and  accepted  of  the  in- 
vitation. 

Those,  who  are  conversant  with  the  instruction  and  government 
of  a  College,  will  readily  be  aware,  that  the  period,  of  which  we 
have  now  been  speaking,  was  a  very  busy  portion  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards's Hfe  ;  and,  if  they  call  to  mind  the  circumstances  of  the  in- 
stitution, and  the  habits  of  the  students,  when  he  entered  on  his 
office,  they  will  not  need  to  be  informed,  that  the  discharge  of  his 
official  duties,  must  have  been  accompanied  with  constant  care, 
and  distressing  anxiety.  It  is  a  rare  event  in  Providence,  that  so 
heavy  a  responsibility  is  thrown,  publicly,  on  three  individuals  so 
young,  and  so  destitute  of  experience,  and  of  the  knowledge  of 
mankind ;  and  the  business  of  instruction  and  government,  must 
have  occupied  their  whole  time,  and  exhausted  their  whole 
strength. 

In  such  a  state  of  things,  it  was  not  possible,  that  he  should  find 
the  same  leisure,  for  christian  conversation,  for  retirement  and 
spiritual  contemplation,  as  he  had  found  in  New-York.  There, 
his  business  was,  chiefly,  to  enjoy  :  here,  it  was  to  act.  There, 
the  persons,  with  whom  he  came  in  contact,  continually,  even  as 
members  of  Christ's  family,  were  possessed  of  uncommon  excel- 
lence :  here,  they  were  a  very  perverse  part  of  a  very  different 
family.  There,  his  attention  was  drawn,  by  the  objects  around 
him,  to  heavenly  things  :  here,  it  was  necessarily  confined,  almost 
all  the  time,  to  this  world.  There,  when  retiring  for  prayer,  and 
heavenly  contemplation,  his  mind  sought  communion  with  God, 
in  all  its  energy  and  freshness  :  here,  w^hen  it  w^as  worn  out  by  toil, 
and  exhausted  by  perplexities.  The  change  in  the  current  of 
thought  and  feeling,  must,  therefore,  have  been  great ;  and,  (so 
much  is  the  mind  prone  to  measure  its  religious  state,  by  the  a- 
mount  of  daily  enjoyment,  and  so  little,  by  the  readiness  to  encoun- 
ter trials,  and  to  perform  laborious  and  self-denying  duties,)  it  is 
not  surprizing,  that  he  should  have  regarded  this  change,  as  evi- 
dence of  perceptible  and  lamentable  declension  in  religion.  Such, 
he  in  fact  regarded  it ;  as  we  shall  find,  both  from  his  Narrative 
and  Diary ;  yet,  it  is  by  no  means  certain,  that  his  views  of  the 
subject  were  altogether  correct. 

The  young  Christian  has  usually  a  season  of  leisure,  given  him 
in  the  Providence  of  God,  in  which  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
members  of  that  family,  into  which  he  has  lately  been  introduced, 
and  with  those  objects,  with  which,  as  a  spiritual  being,  he  is 
thenceforward  to  be  conversant.  His  time  and  his  strength  are 
given  chiefly  to  the  Scriptures,  to  prayer,  to  meditation,  and  to  re- 
ligious conversation ;  and  he  is  delightfully  conscious,  that  his 
communion  is  with  the  Father,  and  the  Son  Jesus  Christ,  through 
the  fellowship  of  tlie  Holy  Spirit,  as  well  as  with  ^'  the  whole  fam- 

Vol.  I.  13 


98  LIFE    OF    PIIE31DE:NT    EDWARDS. 

ily,  both  on  earth  and  in  heaven."  The  design  of  tliis  is,  to  open 
to  him  his  new  state  of  existence,  to  enable  hnii  to  understand  its 
relations  and  duties,  and  to  give  him  an  earnest  of  better  things  in 
reversion.  It  is  a  "most  refreshing  and  happy  period  of  his  hfe  ; 
and,  were  he  designed  for  contemplation  merely,  might  well  be 
protracted  to  its  close.  But,  as  we  are  taught  most  exphcitly,  in 
the  word  and  pro\adence  of  God,  his  great  worth  lies  in  Action — in 
imitatnig  Him,  whose  rule  it  was — "  I  must  do  the  work  of  him 
that  sent  me,  while  it  is  day ;"  and  vvhose  practice  it  was — that 
*'  he  went  about  doing  good."  The  Scriptures  are  given  by  the 
inspiration  of  God,  and  are  profitable  for  doctrnie,  for  reproof,  for 
correction,  and  for  instruction  in  righteousness, — Wherefore  ?  that 
the  man  of  God  may  be  perfected,  being  thoroughly  furnished  un- 
to every  good  work.  Probably  no  year  in  the  life  ol  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, was  spent  more  usefully,  than  that  in  wdiicli  he  was  occu- 
pied, with  his  associates,  in  iaying  the  foundation  of  sober  habits, 
and  sound  morals,  in  tlie  seminary  now  entrusted  to  their  care. 
Probably  in  no  equal  period,  did  he  more  efibctually  serve  God, 
and  his  generation.  And  if,  in  its  progress,  he  found  less  of  tliat 
enjoyment,  which  grows  out  of  spiritual  contemplation ;  he  must 
have  had  the  more  delightful  consciousness,  that,  in  the  midst  of 
great  difficulties  and  crosses,  he  had  honestly  endeavoured  to  serve 
God,  and  to  perform  his  duty. 

There  may  therefore  be  reason  for  doubt,  whether  the  change 
in  his  feelings,  of  which  he  speaks,  in  the  succeeding  parts  of  his 
Narrative  and  Diary,  was  not  a  declension  in  this  particular  species 
of  religious  enjoyment,  necessarily  growing  out  of  the  circumstances 
in  which  he  was  placed;  rather  than  a  declension  in  the  life  and 
power  of  religion. 

"  I  continued,"  he  observes,  "  much  in  the  same  frame,  in  the 
general,  as  when  at  New-York,  till  I  went  to  New-Haven,  as  Tu- 
tor of  the  College  :  particularly,  once  at  Bolton,  on  a  journey  from 
Boston,  while  walking  out  alone  in  the  fields.  After  I  went  to 
New-Haven,  I  sunk  in  religion ;  my  mind  being  diverted  from  my 
eager  pursuits  after  holiness,  by  some  affairs,  that  greatly  perplex- 
ed and  distracted  my  thoughts. 

"  In  September,  1725,  I  was  taken  ill  at  New-Haven,  and  while 
endeavouring  to  go  home  to  Windsor,  was  so  ill  at  tlie  North  Vil- 
lage, that  I  could  go  no  farther ;  where  I  lay  sick,  for  about  a  quar- 
ter of  a  year.  Li  this  sickness,  God  was  pleased  to  visit  me  again, 
with  the  sweet  influences  of  his  Spirit.  My  mind  was  greatl}^  en- 
gaged there,  on  divine  and  pleasant  contemplations,  and  longings 
of  soul.  I  observed,  that  those  who  watched  with  me,  would  of- 
ten be  looking  out  wishfully  for  the  morning ;  wdiich  brought  to 
my  mind  those  words  of  the  Psa'niist,  and  which  my  soul  with  de- 
light made  its  own  language,  A-y  -wid  ivaitcth  for  the  Lord,  more 
than  they  that  watch  for  the  morning  ;  I  say,  more  than  they  that 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  99 

watch  for  the  morning  ;  and  when  the  light  of  day  came  in  at  the 
window,  it  refreshed  my  soul,  from  one  morning  to  another.  It 
seemed  to  be  some  image  of  the  light  of  God's  glory. 

*'  I  remember,  about  tliat  time,  I  used  greatly  to  long  for  the 
conversion  of  some,  that  I  was  concerned  with ;  I  could  gladly 
honour  them,  and  with  dehght  be  a  servant  to  them,  and  lie  at 
their  feet,  if  they  were  but  truly  holy.  But  some  time  after  this, 
I  was  again  greatly  diverted  with  some  temporal  concerns,  that  ex- 
ceeiiingly  took  up  my  thoughts,  greatly  to  the  wounding  of  my 
soul ;  and  went  on,  through  various  exercises,  that  it  would  be  te- 
dious to  relate,  which  gave  me  much  more  experience  of  my  own 
heart,  than  I  ever  had  before." 

While  reading  the  above,  w^e  can  scarcely  fail  to  remark,  that 
when  his  mind  was  freed  from  the  cares  and  anxieties,  necessarily 
attendant  on  the  discharge  of  his  official  duties,  and  left  amid  the 
calm  and  retirement  of  sickness,  to  its  own  spontaneous  move- 
ments; it  returned  instinctively  to  meditation,  and  prayer  and  hea- 
venly contemplation,  as  its  greatest  privileges,  and  found  in  them, 
as  the  means  of  immediate  communion  with  God,  the  same  spiritual 
enjoyment  which  it  had  before  experienced.  This  could  scarcely 
have  been  the  fact,  if,  in  consequence  of  official  cares  and  per- 
plexities, he  had  been,  as  he  supposes,  the  subject  of  a  marked  de- 
clension in  his  religious  state  and  character. 

The  remainder  of  his  Diary,  is  chiefly  confined  to  the  period 
of  his  Hfe  which  we  have  now  reviewed,  and  is,  therefore,  inserted 
here.  It  is  only  to  be  regretted,  that,  through  the  multiplicity  of 
his  affairs,  he  should  have  found  it  necessary  to  discontinue  it. 

[remainder  of  diary.] 

Thursday  forenoon,  Oct.  4,  1723.  Have  this  day  fixed  and 
established  it,  that  Christ  Jesus  has  promised  me  faithfully,  that, 
if  I  will  do  what  is  my  duty,  and  according  to  the  best  of  my  pru- 
dence in  the  matter,  that  my  condition  in  this  world,  shall  be  better 
for  me  than  any  other  condition  wliatever,  and  more  to  my  welfare, 
to  all  eternity.  And,  thereibre,  whatever  my  condition  shall  be,  I  will 
esteem  it  to  be  such  ;  and  if  1  find  need  of  faith  in  the  matter,  that 
I  will  confess  it  as  impiety  before  God.  Vid.  Resolution  57,  and 
Jum  9. 

Sahhath  night,  Oct.  7.  Have  lately  erred,  in  not  allowing  time 
enough  for  conversation. 

Friday  night,  Oct.  12.  I  see  there  are  some  things  quite  con- 
trary to  the  soundness  and  perfection  of  Christianity,  in  which  al- 
most all  good  men  do  allow  themselves,  and  where  innate  corrup- 
tion has  ?n  unrestrained  secret  vent,  w:h^ch  they  never  take  notice 
of,  or  think  to  be  no  hurt,  or  cloke  under  the  name  of  \irtue  ;  which 


100  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EBWARP*- 

things  exceedingly  darken  the  brightness,  and  hide  the  loveKness^ 
of  Christianity.  Who  can  understand  his  errors  ?  O  that  I  might 
be  kept  from  secret  faults  ! 

Sabbath  morning,  Oct.  14.  Narrowly  to  observe  after  what 
manner  I  act,  when  I  am  in  a  hurry,  and  to  act  as  much  so,  at  other 
times,  as  I  can,  without  prejudice  to  the  business. 

Monday  morning y  Oct.  15.  I  seem  to  be  afraid,  after  errors 
and  decays,  to  give  myself  the  full  exercise  of  spiritual  meditation; 
— Not  to  give  Vv'ay  to  such  fears. 

Thursday,  Oct.  18.  To  follow  the  example  of  Mr.  B.  who^ 
though  he  meets  with  great  difficulties,  yet  undertakes  them  with  a 
smiling  countenance,  as  though  he  thought  them  but  little ;  and 
speaks  of  them,  as  if  they  were  very  small. 

Friday  night,  JVov.  1.  When  I  am  unfit  for  other  business,  t© 
perfect  myself  in  writing  characters.^ 

Friday  afternoon,  JVov.  22.  For  the  time  to  come,  when  I  am 
in  a  lifeless  frame  in  secret  prayer,  to  force  myself  to  expatiate,  as 
if  I  were  praying  before  others   more  than  I  used  to  do. 

Tuesday  forenoon,  A''ov.  26.  It  is  a  most  evil  and  pernicious 
practice,  in  meditations  on  afflictions,  to  sit  ruminating  on  the  ag- 
gravations of  the  affliction,  and  reckoning  up  the  evil,  dai-k  circum- 
stances thereof,  and  dwelling  long  on  the  dark  side  :  it  doubles  md 
trebles  the  affliction.  And  so,  when  speaking  of  tliem  to  others, 
to  make  them  as  bad  as  we  can,  and  use  our  eloquence  to  set  fordi 
our  own  troubles,  is  to  be  all  the  while  making  new  trouble,  and 
feeding  and  pampering  the  old ;  whereas,  the  conti'ary  practice, 
would  starve  our  affliction.  If  we  dwelt  on  the  bright  side  of  things 
in  our  thoughts,  and  extenuated  them  all  that  we  possibly  could, 
when  speaking  of  them,  we  should  think  little  of  them  ourselves, 
and  the  affliction  would,  really,  in  a  great  measure,  vanish  away. 

Friday  night,  JVov.  29.  As  a  help  to  attention  in  social  prayer, 
to  take  special  care  to  make  a  particular  remark,  at  the  beginning 
of  every  petition,  confession,  &ic. 

Monday  morning,  Dec.  9.  To  observe,  whether  I  express  any 
kind  of  fretting  emotion,  for  the  next  three  weeks. 

Thursday  night,  Dec.  12.  If,  at  any  time,  I  am  forced  to  tell 
others  wherein  I  think  they  are  somewhat  to  blame ;  in  order  to 
avoid  the  important  evil  tliat  would  odierwise  ensue,  not  to  tell  it  to 
diem  so,  that  there  shall  be  a  probability  of  their  taking  it  as  the 
effect  of  little,  fretting,  angry  emotions  of  mind. —  Vid.  Aug.  28. 
When  I  do  want,  or  am  likely  to  want,  good  books,  to  spend  time 
in  studying  Mathematics,  and  in  reviewing  other  kinds  of  old  learn- 
ing ;  to  spend  more  time  in  visiting  friends,  in  the  more  private 
duties  of  a  pastor,  in  taking  care  of  worldly  business,  in  going  abroad 
and  other  things  that  I  may  contrive. 


*  He  probably  refers  to  short-hand  characters. 


LIFE    ©F    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  101 

Friday  morning,  Dec.  27.  At  the  end  of  every  month,  to  exa- 
mine my  behaviour,  strictly,  by  some  chapter  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, more  especially  made  up  of  rules  of  life. — At  the  end  of  the 
year,  to  examine  my  behaviour  by  the  rules  of  the  New  Testament 
in  general,  reading  many  chapters.  It  would  also  be  convenient, 
some  time  at  the  end  of  the  year,  to  read,  for  this  purpose,  in  the 
book  of  Proverbs. 

Tuesday  night,  Bee.  31.  Concluded  never  to  sufier,  nor  ex- 
press, any  angry  emotions  of  mind,  more  or  less,  except  the  honour 
of  God  calls  for  it  in  zeal  for  him,  or  to  preserve  myself  from  being 
trampled  on. 

1724.  Wednesday,  Jan.  1.  Not  to  spend  too  much  time  in  think- 
ing, even  of  important  and  necessary  w^orldly  business,  and  to  ailow 
every  thing  its  proportion  of  thought,  according  to  its  urgency  and 
importance. 

Thursday  night,  Jan.  2.  These  things  established — That  time 
gained  in  things  of  lesser  importance,  is  as  much  gained  in  things 
of  greater  ;  that  a  minute,  gained  in  times  of  confusion,  conversa- 
tion, or  in  a  journey,  is  as  good  as  a  minute  gained  in  my  study,  at 
my  most  retired  times ;  and  so  in  general  that  a  minute  gained  at 
one  time,  is  as  good  as  at  another. 

Friday  night,  Jan.  3.  The  time  and  pains  laid  out  in  seeking 
tlie  world,  is  to  be  proportioned  to  the  necessity,  usefulness,  and 
importance  of  it,  with  respect  to  another  world,  together  with  the 
uncertainty  of  succeeding,  the  uncertainty  of  hving,  and  of  retain- 
ing ;  provided,  that  nothing  that  our  duty  enjoins,  or  that  is  amiable, 
be  omitted,  and  nothing  sinful  or  unbecoming  be  done  for  tlie  sake 
of  it. 

Friday,  Jan.  10.  [After  having  written  to  a  considerable  ex- 
tent, in  short-hand,  which  he  used,  when  he  wished  what  he  wrote 
to  be  effectually  concealed  from  every  one  but  himself,  he  adda 
the  following.]  Remember  to  act  according  to  Prov.  xii.  23,  ^^ 
prudent  man  concealeth  knowledge. 

Monday,  Jan.  20.  I  have  been  very  much  to  blame,  in  that  I 
have  not  been  as  full,  and  plain  and  downright,  in  my  standing  up 
for  virtue  and  religion,  when  I  have  had  fair  occasion,  before  those 
w^ho  seemed  to  take  no  dehght  in  such  things.  If  such  conversation 
would  not  be  agreeable  to  them,  I  have  in  some  degree  minced  the 
matter,  that  I  might  not  displease,  and  might  not  speak  right  against 
the  grain,  more  than  I  should  have  loved  to  have  done  with  others, 
to  whom  it  would  be  agreeable  to  speak  directly  for  religion.  J 
ought  to  be  exceedingly  bold  with  such  persons,  not  talking  in  a 
melancholy  strain,  but  in  one  confident  and  fearless,  assured  of  tlie 
tTuth  and  excellence  of  the  cause. 

Monday,  Feb.  3.  Let  every  thing  have  the  value  now  which  it 
will  have  on  a  sick  bed :  and  frequently,  in  my  pursuits  of  whatever 


102  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

kind,  let  this  question  come  into  my  mind,  "  How  mucli  shall  I 
value  this,  on  my  death-bed  ?" 

Wednesday^  Feb.  5.  I  have  not,  in  times  past,  in  my  prayers- 
enough  insisted  on  the  glorifying  of  God  in  the  world,  on  the  ad- 
vancement of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  the  prosperity  of  the  Church 
and  the  good  of  man.  Determined,  that  tliis  objection  is  without 
weight,  viz.  That  it  is  not  hkely  that  God  will  make  great  alterations 
in  the  v*^hole  world,  and  overturnings  in  kingdoms  and  nations,  only 
for  the  prayers  of  one  obscure  person,  seeing  such  things  used  to 
be  done  in  answ^er  to  tlie  united  prayers  of  the  whole  church ;  and 
that  if  my  prayers  should  have  some  influence,  it  would  be  but  im- 
perceptible and  small. 

Thursday,  Feb.  6.  !More  convinced  than  ever,  of  the  useful- 
ness of  free,  religious  conversation.  I  find  by  conversing  on  Natu- 
ral Philosophy,  that  I  gain  knowledge  abundantly  faster,  and  see 
the  reasons  of  things  much  more  clearly  than  in  private  study : 
wherefore,  earnestly  to  seek,  at  all  times,  for  religious  conversa- 
tion ;  for  those,  w-ith  w hom  I  can,  at  all  times,  with  profit  and  de- 
light, and  with  freedom,  so  converse. 

Friday,  Feb.  7.  Resolved,  If  God  will  assist  me  to  it,  that  I 
will  not  care  about  things,  when,  upon  any  account,  I  have  pros- 
pect of  ill-success  or  adversity ;  and  that  I  will  not  think  about  it, 
any  further  than  just  to  do  what  prudence  directs  to  for  prevention, 
according  to  Phil,  iv.  6-,  Be  careful  for  nothing ;  to  1  Pet.  v.  7, 
Cast  all  your  care  upon  God,  for  he  careth  for  you ;  and  again, 
Take  no  thought  for  the  morrow  ;  and  again,  Take  no  thought, 
saying,  What  shall  I  eat,  and  what  shall  I  drink,  and  wherewithal 
shall  I  be  clothed :  seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  all  these 
things  shall  be  added  unto  you. 

Saturday  night,  Feb.  15.  I  find  that  when  eating,  I  cannot  be 
convinced  in  the  time  of  it,  that  if  I  should  eat  more,  I  should  ex- 
ceed the  bounds  of  strict  temperance,  tliough  I  have  had  the  expe- 
rience of  two  years  of  the  like  ;  and  yet,  as  soon  as  I  have  done, 
in  three  minutes  I  am  convinced  of  it.  But  yet,  when  I  eat  again, 
and  remember  it,  still,  while  eating,  I  am  fully  convinced  that  I 
have  not  eaten  what  is  but  for  nature,  nor  can  I  be  convinced  that  my 
appetite  and  feeling  is  as  it  was  before.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  shall 
be  somewhat  faint  if  I  leave  off  then  ;  but  when  I  have  finished,  1 
am  convinced  again,  and  so  it  is  from  time  to  time. — I  have  obser- 
ved that  more  really  seems  to  be  truth,  when  it  makes  for  my  in- 
terest, or  is,  in  other  respects,  according  to  my  inclination,  than  it 
seems,  if  it  be  otherwise  ;  and  it  seems  to  me,  that  the  words  in 
which  I  express  it  are  more  than  the  thing  will  properly  bear.  But 
if  the  tiling  be  against  my  interest,  the  words  of  different  import 
seem  as  much  as  the  thing  will  properly  bear. — Though  there  is 
some  little  seemins;,  indecorum,  as  if  it  looked  like  affectation,  in  re- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  103 

ligious  conversation,  as  there  is  also  in  acts  of  kindness;  yet  this  is 
to  be  broke  through. 

Tuesday,  Feb.  18.  Resolved,  To  act  witli  sweetness  and  be- 
nevolence, and  according  to  the  47th  Resolution,  in  all  bodily  dis- 
positions,— sick  or  well,  at  ease  or  in  pain,  sleepy  or  watchful,  and 
not  to  suffer  discomposure  of  body  to  discompose  my  mind. 

Saturday,  Feb.  22.  I  observe  that  there  are  some  e\il  habits, 
which  do  increase  and  grow  stronger,  even  in  some  good  people, 
as  they  grow  older ;  habits  that  much  obscure  the  beauty  of  Chris- 
tianity :  some  things  which  are  according  to  their  natural  tempers, 
which,  in  some  measure,  prevails  when  they  are  young  in  Christ, 
and  the  evil  disposition,  having  an  unobserved  control,  the  habit  at 
last  grows  very  strong,  and  commonly  regulates  the  practice  until 
death.  By  this  means,  old  christians  are  very  commonly,  in  some 
respects,  more  unreasonable  than  those  who  are  young.  I  am 
afraid  of  contracting  such  habits,  particularly  of  grudging  to  give, 
and  to  do,  and  of  procrastinating. 

Sabbath,  Feb.  23.  I  must  be  contented,  where  I  have  any 
thing  strange  or  remarkable  to  tell,  not  to  make  it  appear  so  re- 
markable as  it  is  indeed ;  lest  through  the  fear  of  this,  and  the  de- 
sire of  making  a  thing  appear  very  remarkable,  I  should  exceed 
the  bounds  of  simple  verity.  When  I  am  at  a  feast,  or  a  meal, 
that  very  well  pleases  my  appetite,  I  must  not  merely  take  care  to 
leave  off  with  as  much  of  an  appetite  as  at  ordinary  meals;  for 
when  there  is  a  gre:;t  variety  of  dishes,  I  may  do  that,  after  1  have 
eaten  twice  as  much  as  at  other  meals,  is  sufficient.  If  I  act  ac- 
cording to  my  resolution,  I  shall  desire  riches  no  otherwise,  than 
as  they  are  helpful  to  rehgion.  But  this  I  determine,  as  what  is 
really  evident  from  many  parts  of  Scripting,  that  to  fallen  man^ 
they  have  a  greater  tendency  to  hurt  religion. 

Monday,  March  16.  To  practice  this  sort  of  self-denial,  when 
at  sometimes  on  fair  days,  I  find  myself  more  particularly  disposed 
to  regard  the  glories  of  the  world,  than  to  betake  myself  to  the 
study  of  serious  religion. 

Saturday,  May  23.  How  it  comes  about  I  know  not,  but  I 
have  remarked  it  hitherto,  that  at  those  times,  when  I  have  read 
the  Scriptures  most,  I  have  evermore  been  most  lively  and  in  the 
best  frame. 

"  At    Yale   College." 

Saturday  night,  June  6.  This  week  has  been  a  very  remarka- 
ble week  with  me,  with  respect  to  despondencies,  fears,  perplexi- 
ties, multitudes  of  cares,  and  distraction  of  mind  :  it  being  the  v.eek 
1  came  hither  to  New -Haven,  in  order  to  entrance  upon  the  office 
of  Tutor  of  the  College.  I  have  now,  abundant  reason  to  be  con- 
vinced, of  the  troublesomeness  and  vexation  of  the  world,  and  that 
it  never  will  be  another  kind  of  world. 

Tuesday,  July  7.     When  I  am  giving  the  relation  of  a  thing. 


104  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDVvARDs. 

remember  to  abstain  faom  altering  either  in  the  matter  or  manner 
of  speaking,  so  much,  as  that,  if  every  one,  afterwards,  should  al- 
ter as  much,  it  would  at  last  come  to  be  properly  false. 

Tuesday,  Sept.  2.  By  a  sparingness  in  diet,  and  eating  as  much 
as  may  be,  what  is  Hght  and  easy  of  digestion,  I  shall  doubtless  be 
able  to  think  more  clearly,  and  shall  gain  time  ;  1 .  By  lengthening 
out  my  life;  2.  Shall  need  less  time  for  digestion,  after  meals  ;  3. 
Shall  be  able  to  study  more  closely,  without  injury  to  my  health ; 
4.  Shall  need  less  time  for  sleep  ;  5.  Shall  more  seldom  be  troub- 
led with  the  head-ache. 

Saturday  night,  »Sep^.  12.  Crosses  of  the  nature  of  that,  which 
I  met  with  this  week,  thrust  me  quite  below  all  comforts  in  reli- 
gion. They  appear  no  more  than  vanity  and  stubble,  especially 
when  I  meet  with  them  so  unprepared  for  them.  I  shall  not  be 
fit  to  encounter  them,  except  1  have  a  far  stronger,  and  more  per- 
manent faith,  hope  and  love. 

Wednesday,  Sept.  30.  It  has  been  a  prevailing  thought  with 
me,  to  which  I  have  given  place  in  practice,  that  it  is  best,  some- 
times, to  eat  or  drink,  wiien  it  will  do  me  no  good,  because  the 
hurt,  that  it  will  do  me,  will  not  be  equal,  to  the  trouble  of  denying 
myself.  But  I  have  determined,  to  suffer  that  thought  to  prevail 
no  longer.  The  hurries  of  commencement,  and  diversion  of  the 
vacancy,  has  been  the  occasion  of  my  sinking  so  exceedingly,  as 
in  the  three  last  weeks. 

Monday,  Oct.  5.  I  believe  it  is  a  good  way,  when  prone  to  un- 
profitable thoughts,  to  deny  myself  and  break  off  my  thoughts,  by 
keeping  diligently  to  my  study,  that  they  may  not  have  time  to 
operate  to  work  me  to  such  a  listless  frame.  I  am  apt  to  think  it 
a  good  w^ay,  when  I  am  indisposed  to  reading  and  study,  to  read 
of  my  own  remarks,  the  fruit  of  my  study  m  divinity,  &ic.,  to  set 
Fne  agoing  again. 

Friday,  JVov.  6.  Felt  sensibly,  somewhat  of  that  trust  and  af- 
fiance, in  Christ,  and  with  dehght  committing  of  my  soul  to  him, 
of  which  our  divines  used  to  speak,  and  about  which,  I  have  been 
somew^hat  in  doubt. 

Tuesday,  JYgv.  10.  To  mark  all  that  I  say  in  conversation, 
merely  to  beget  in  others,  a  good  opinion  of  myself,  and  exam- 
ine it. 

Sabbath,  JVov.  15.  Determined,  when  I  am  indisposed  to  prayer, 
always  to  premeditate  what  to  pray  for ;  and  that  it  is  better, 
that  the  prayer  should  be  of  almost  any  shortness,  than  that  my 
mind  should  be  almost  continually  off  from  what  I  say. 

Sabbath,  JVov.  22.  Considering  that  by-standers  ahvays  copy 
some  faults,  which  we  do  not  see,  ourselves,  or  of  which,  at  least, 
we  are  not  so  fully  sensible ;  and  that  there  are  many  secret  work- 
ings of  corruption,  which  escape  our  sight,  and  of  which,  others 
only  are  sensible  :  Resolved,  therefore,  that  I  will,  if  I  can  by  any 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  105 

convenient  means,  learn  what  faults  others  find  in  me,  or  what 
things  they  see  in  me,  that  appear  any  way  blame-worthy,  unlove- 
ly, or  unbecoming. 

Friday,  Feb.  12, 1725.  The  very  thing  I  now  want,  to  give  me  a 
clearer  and  more  immediate  view  of  the  perfections  and  glory  of 
God,  is  as  clear  a  knowledge  of  the  manner  of  God's  exerting 
himself,  with  respect  to  Spirits  and  Mind,  as  I  have,  of  his  opera- 
tions concerning  Matter  and  Bodies. 

Tuesday,  Feb,  16.  A  virtue,  which  I  need  in  a  higher  degree, 
to  give  a  beauty  and  lustre  to  my  behaviour,  is  gentleness.  If  I 
had  more  of  an  air  of  gentleness,  I  should  be  much  mended. 

Friday,  May  21 .  If  ever  I  am  inclined  to  turn  to  the  opinion  of 
any  other  Sect :  Resolved,  Beside  the  most  deliberate  consideration, 
earnest  prayer,  Uc,  privately  to  desire  all  the  help  that  can  possi- 
by  be  afforded  me,  from  some  of  the  most  judicious  men  in  the 
country,  together  with  the  prayers  of  wise  and  holy  men,  however 
strongly  persuaded  I  may  seem  to  be,  that  I  am  in  the  right. 

Saturday,  May  22.  When  I  reprove  for  faults,  whereby  I  am 
in  any  way  injured,  to  defer,  till  the  thing  is  quite  over  and  done 
with ;  for  that  is  the  way,  both  to  reprove  aright,  and  without  the 
least  mixture  of  spirit,  or  passion,  and  to  have  reproofs  effectual, 
and  not  suspected. 

Friday,  May  28.  It  seems  to  me,  that  whether  I  am  now  con- 
verted or  not,  I  am  so  settled  in  the  state  I  am  in,  that  I  shall  go 
on  in  it  all  my  hfe.^  But,  how^ever  settled  I  may  be,  yet  I  \vill 
continue  to  pray  to  God,  not  to  suffer  me  to  be  deceived  about  it, 
nor  to  sleep  in  an  unsafe  condition ;  and  ever  and  anon,  will  call 
all  into  question  and  try  myself,  using  for  helps,  some  of  our  old 
divines,  that  God  may  have  opportunities  to  answer  my  prayers^ 
and  the  Spirit  of  God  to  show  me  my  error,  if  I  am  in  one. 

Saturday  night,  June6.  I  am  sometimes  in  a  frame  so  listless, 
that  there  is  no  other  way  of  profitably  improving  time,  but 
conversation,  visiting,  or  recreation,  or  some  bodily  exercise. 
However  it  may  be  best  in  the  first  place,  before  resorting  to  ei- 
ther of  these,  to  try  the  whole  circle  of  my  mental  employments. 

JVov.  16.  When  confined  at  Mr.  Stiles'.  I  think  it  would  be 
of  special  advantage  to  me,  with  respect  to  my  truer  interest,  as 
near  as  I  can  in  my  studies,  to  observe  this  rule.  To  let  half  a 
day's,  or  at  most,  a  day's  study  in  other  things,  be  succeeded,  by 
half  a  day's,  or  a  day's  study  in  Divinity. 

One  thing  wherein  I  have  erred,  as  I  w^ould  be  complete  in  all 
social  duties,  is,  in  neglecting  to  write  letters  to  friends.  And  I 
w^ould  be  forew^arned  of  the  danger  of  neglecting  to  visit  my  friends 
and  relations,  when  we  are  parted. 

When  one  suppresses  thoughts  that  tend  to  divert  the  run  of  the 
mind's  operations  from  Religion,  whether  they  are  melancholy,  or 
anxious,  or  passionate,  or  any  others  5  there  is  this  good  effect  of 

Vol.  I.  14 


106  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

it,  that  it  keeps  the  mind  in  its  freedom.  Those  thoughts  are 
stopped  in  the  beginning,  that  would  have  set  the  mind  agoing  in 
that  stream. 

There  are  a  great  many  exercises,  that  for  the  present,  seem 
not  to  help,  but  rather  impede,  Religious  meditation  and  affections, 
the  fruit  of  which  is  reaped  afterwards,  and  is  of  far  greater  worth 
than  what  is  lost ;  for  thereby  the  mind  is  only  for  the  present  di- 
verted ;  but  what  is  attained  is,  upon  occasion,  of  use  for  the  whole 
life-time. 

Sept.  26,  1726.  ^Tis  just  about  three  years,  that  I  have  been 
for  the  most  part  in  a  low,  sunk  estate  and  condition,  miserably 
senseless  to  what  I  used  to  be,  about  spiritual  things.  'Twas  three 
years  ago,  tlie  week  before  commencement ;  just  about  the  same 
time  this  year,  I  began  to  be  somewhat  as  I  used  to  be. 

Jan,  1728.  I  think  Christ  has  recommended  rising  early  in  the 
morning,  by  his  rising  from  the  grave  very  early. 

Jan.  22,  1734.  I  judge  that  it  is  best,  when  I  am  in  a  good 
frame  for  di^-ine  contemplation,  or  engaged  in  reading  the  Scrip- 
tures, or  any  study  of  divine  subjects,  that  ordinarily,  I  will  not  be 
interrupted  by  going  to  dinner,  but  will  forego  my  dinner,  rather 
than  be  broke  off. 

April  4,  1735.  When  at  any  time,  I  have  a  sense  of  any  divine 
thing,  then  to  turn  it  in  my  thoughts,  to  a  practical  improvement. 
As  for  instance,  when  I  am  in  my  mind,  on  some  argument  for  the 
Truth  of  Religion,  the  Reality  of  a  Future  State,  and  the  like,  then 
to  think  with  myself,  how  safely  I  may  venture  to  sell  all,  for  a  future 
good.  So  when,  at  any  time,  I  have  a  more  than  ordinary  sense 
of  the  Glory  of  the  Saints,  in  another  world ;  to  think  how  well  it 
is  worth  my  while,  to  deny  myself,  and  to  sell  all  that  I  have 
for  this  Glory,  he. 

May,  18.  My  mind  at  present  is,  never  to  suffer  my  thoughts 
and  meditations,  at  all  to  ruminate. 

June  1 1 .  To  set  apart  days  of  mecntation  on  particular  subjects  ; 
as  sometimes,  to  set  apart  a  day  for  the  consideration  of  the  Great- 
ness of  my  Sins ;  at  another,  to  consider  the  Dreadfulness  and 
Certainty,  of  the  Future  Misery  of  Ungodly  men ;  at  another,  the 
Truth  and  Certainty  of  Religion;  and  so,  of  the  Great  Future 
Things  promised  and  threatened  in  die  Scriptures.. 


CHAPTER  IX, 

Settlement  in  the  ministry  at  Northampton. — Situation  of  things 
at  the  time  of  his  settlement. — Attention  to  Religion  in  the  Par^ 
ish. —  Course  of  Study. — Habits  of  Lfe. — Marriage. — Death 
and  Character  of  Mr.  Stoddard. — Sickness  of  Mr.  Edwards. 
— Death  and  Character  of  his  Sister  Jerusha. — His  first  Pub- 
lication. 

On  the  15th  of  February,  1727,  Mr.  Edwards  was  ordained  as 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  and  placed  over  the  church  and  congre- 
gation at  Northampton,  as  the  colleague  of  his  grandfather,  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Stoddard.  He  was  now  entering  on  the  business  of  life, 
in  a  profession  attended  with  many  difficulties,  and  presenting  a 
field,  sufficiently  ample  for  the  employment  of  the  highest  faculties 
ever  conferred  on  Man.  It  may  not  be  improper,  therefore,  to 
stop  a  moment,  and  review  the  circumstances  in  which  he  was 
placed. 

He  was  twenty-three  years  of  age.  His  constitution  was  natu- 
rally so  tender  and  feeble,  as  to  be  preserved,  even  in  tolerable 
health,  only  with  unceasing  care.  He  had  passed  through  the 
successive  periods  of  childhood,  youth  and  early  manhood,  not  on- 
ly without  reproach,  but  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  secure  the  high 
esteem  and  approbation,  of  all  w^ho  knew  him.  His  filial  piety, 
and  fraternal  affection,  had  been  most  exemplary,  and  had  render- 
ed him  a  centre  of  strong  atu-action,  to  the  united  family.  Origi- 
nally of  a  grave  and  sober  character,  he  had  been  the  subject  of 
early,  frequent  and  strong  religious  impressions  ;  which,  if  they  did 
not  result  in  saving  conversion,  in  his  childhood,  yet  rendered  liim 
conscientious,  and  solemnly  and  habitually  mindful  of  eternal  things. 
For  a  considerable  period,  he  had  not  only  felt  the  life  and  power 
of  religion,  but  had  appeared  imbued  with  an  unusually  large  mea- 
sure of  the  grace  of  God.  Few  persons,  of  the  same  age,  disco- 
ver a  piety  so  pure,  so  practical,  or  so  pervading. 

He  had  been  devoted  to  books,  from  his  infancy,  and  appears 
of  his  own  accord,  from  an  early  period,  to  have  formed  habits  of 
severe  and  successful  apphcation.  His  mind,  originally  possessed 
of  uncommon  powers,  and  fraught  with  an  intense  desire  of  know- 
ledge, was  qualified  for  eminence,  as  we  have  already  seen,  not  in 
a  single  pursuit  merely,  but  in  every  walk  of  literature  and  science. 
Though  probably  the  youngest  member  of  his  class,  he  had  been 


108  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARBS, 

acknowledged  as  its  first  scholar,  in  the  distribution  of  its  honours* 
He  had  not  been  distinguished  for  his  attainments  in  Latin,  Greek, 
or  Hebrew  Hterature  only,  but  still  more  in  those  studies  which  re- 
quire the  appHcation  of  stronger  powers — in  Mathematics  and  Lo- 
gic, in  Natural  and  Mental  Philosophy,  and  the  higher  principles 
of  Theology.  In  these,  he  had  not  simply  proved  himself  capable 
of  comprehending  the  discoveries  of  others,  but  had  ventured  out, 
where  there  was  no  path  nor  guide,  into  new  and  unexplored  re- 
gions of  the  spiritual^  world,  with  a  success,  which  might  well  have 
prompted  him  to  bold  and  fearless  enterprize.  As  officers  of  the 
College,  the  peculiar  difficulties  in  which  they  were  placed,  had 
given  him,  and  his  associates,  an  opportunity  to  acquire  uncom- 
mon reputation,  not  only  as  insti'uctors  and  governors  of  youths, 
but  as  men  of  unshaken  firmness,  and  unwavering  integrity.  His 
minrt  was  now  rich  in  its  attainments  ;  its  views  were  already,  for 
the  period  in  which  he  lived,  singularly  expanded  and  comprehen- 
sive ;  and  its  powers  were  under  thorough  discipline,  and  yielded 
an  exact  and  persevering  obedience.  His  habits  of  study  were 
completely  formed,  and  were  of  the  most  severe  and  unbending 
character. 

Theology  had  been,  for  years,  his  favorite  study.  For  it,  he 
had  deliberately  relinquished,  not  only  the  varied  pursuits  of  Nat- 
ural Science,  but  in  a  measure,  also,  those  investigations  into  the 
nature  and  operations  of  Mind,  by  which,  at  an  earlier  period,  his 
whole  attention  had  been  engrossed.  He  had  already  discovered, 
that  much  of  what  he  found  in  Systems  and  Commentaries,  was  a 
mere  mass  of  rubbish;  and  that  many  of  the  great  principles,  which 
constitute  the  foundation  of  the  science,  were  yet  to  be  established. 
He  had  studied  Theology,  not  chiefly  in  Systems  or  Commenta- 
ries, but  in  the  Bible,  and  in  the  character  and  mutual  relations  of 
God  and  his  creatures,  from  which  all  its  principles  are  derived ; 
and  had  already  entered  on  a  series  of  investigations,  which,  if  ul- 
timately found  correct,  would  effectuate  most  important  changes  in 
the  opinions  of  the  christian  world. 

The  ministry  had  long  been  the  profession  of  his  choice,  and 
was  doubtless  the  only  profession,  which  he  had  ever  thouglu  of 
pursuing.  Few  persons,  probably,  enter  the  sacred  office,  with 
more  just  views  of  its  elevation  and  importance.  His  work,  he 
appears  to  have  regarded,  simply  as  the  work  of  salvation  : — the 
same  work,  on  which  HE,  whose  commission  he  bore,  came  down 
to  tliis  lower  world  : — and  to  the  accomplishment  of  it,  the  surren- 
dry  of  himself  appears  to  have  been  deliberate  and  entire.  His 
reception  as  a  preacher,  had  certainly  been  flattering.  Repeated, 
and  urgent  proposals  had  been  made  to  him  for  settlement ;  and, 

*I  use  spiritual  here,  in  its  original  and  most  appropriate  sense,  as  opposed 
to  material. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  109 

as  far  as  he  was  known,  he  was  obviously  regarded,  as  a  young 
man  of  uncommon  promise. 

Northampton,  the  place  of  his  settlement,  is  in  its  natural  situa- 
tion, uncommonly  pleasant,  was  then  the  shire  town  of  a  county, 
embracing  nearly  one  half  of  the  area  of  the  colony,  and  embodied 
within  its  limits,  more  than  the  ordinary  share  of  refinement  and 
pohsh.  The  church  was  large,  and,  with  the  congregation,  was 
united.  Both  were  united  in  him,  and  earnestly  desirous  that  he 
should  become  their  minister.  From  his  childhood,  he  had  famil- 
iarly known  both  the  place,  and  the  people.  His  parents  were  the 
famihar  friends  of  many  of  the  inhabitants ;  and  they,  with  his  con- 
nexions in  the  place,  regarded  his  settlement  there  as  a  most  pleas- 
ing event. 

He  was  also  the  individual,  whom  probably,  of  all  others,  his 
grandfather  desired,  for  his  colleague  and  successor.  That  vene- 
rable man,  then  in  his  84th  year,  had  been  the  minister  of  North- 
ampton, 55  years  ;  and  by  his  piety,  his  great  energy  of  character, 
and  his  knowledge  of  mankind,  had  early  acquired,  and  maintained 
through  a  long  life,  a  singular  degree  of  weight  among  the  clergy 
and  churches  of  New^-England.  Though  a  close  student,  and  an 
able  and  faithful  preacher,  he  was  in  character  a  man  of  business, 
and  of  action ;  and,  in  all  the  important  ecclesiastical  bodies  of 
Massachusetts,  he  had  for  many  years  an  influence,  w^hich  usually 
was  not  contested,  and  almost  always  w^as  paramount.  In  North- 
ampton, he  had  been  a  faithful  and  successfid  minister.  Under  his 
preaching,  the  place  had  repeatedly  witnessed  revivals  of  religion  : 
particularly  in  1679,  1683,  1690,  1712,  and  1718.  Those  in 
1683,  1690,  and  1712,  were  distinguished  for  their  extent,  and  for 
the  accessions  made  to  the  number  of  communicants.  While  the 
existing  members  of  the  church,  wdth  scarcely  an  exception,  re- 
garded him  as  their  spiritual  father,  all  the  acting  inhabitants  of  the 
town,  had  grown  up  under  his  ministry,  and  had  been  accustomed^ 
from  infancy,  to  pay  a  respect  to  his  person  and  character,  and  a 
deference  to  his  opinions,  such  as  children  pay  to  those  of  a  loved 
and  venerated  parent. 

One  circumstance,  relating  to  the  actual  condition  of  the  church 
at  Northampton,  deserves  to  be  mentioned  here,  as  it  had  an  ulti- 
mate bearing  on  some  of  the  most  important  events  recorded  in 
these  pages.  That  church,  like  the  other  early  churches  of  New- 
England,  according  to  its  original  platform,  admitted  none  to  the 
Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  except  those,  who,  after  due  ex- 
amination, were  regarded,  in  the  judgment  of  christian  charity,  as 
regenerate  persons.  Such  w^as  the  uniform  practice  of  the  church, 
from  the  time  of  its  formation,  during  the  life  of  Mr.  Mather,  and 
for  upwards  of  thirty  years  after  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Stoddard. 
How  early  Mr.  Stoddard  changed  his  own  views  on  this  subject, 
cannot  probably  be  ascertained;  but  he  attempted,  in  1704,  andy 


llO  LIF£  of  president  EDWARDS. 

though  not  without  opposition,  yet  with  ultimate  success,  to  intrO-^ 
duce  a  corresponding  change  in  the  practice  of  the  Church. 
Though  no  v^ote  was  then  taken  to  alter  the  rules  of  admission,  yet 
the  point  of  practice  was  yielded.  The  Sacrament,  from  that  time, 
w^as  viewed  as  a  converting  ordinance,  and  those,  who  were  not  re- 
garded, either  by  themselves  or  others,  as  possessed  of  piety,  were 
encouraged  to  unite  themselves  to  the  Church. 

The  attention  to  religion,  in  1718,  was  neither  extensive,  nor  of 
long  continuance,  and  appears  not  to  have  terminated  happily. 
During  the  nine  years,  which  intervened  between  that  event  and 
tlie  settlement  of  Mr.  Edwards,  Mr.  Stoddard  witnessed  "  a  far 
more  degenerate  time  among  his  people,  particularly  among  the 
young,  than  ever  before,"  in  which  the  means  of  salvation  were 
attended  with  little  or  no  visible  efficacy.  The  young  became  ad- 
dicted to  habits  of  dissipation  and  hcentiousness ;  family  govern- 
ment too  generally  failed  ;  the  Sabbath  was  extensively  profaned  ; 
and  the  decorum  of  the  sanctuary  was  not  unfrequently  disturbed. 
There  had  also  long  prevailed  in  the  town,  a  spirit  of  contention 
between  t^vo  parties,  into  which  they  had  for  many  years  been  di- 
vided, which  kept  ahve  a  mutual  jealousy,  and  prepared  them  to 
oppose  one  another,  in  all  public  affairs. 

Such  were  the  circumstances,  in  which  Mr.  Edwards  entered  on 
his  ministry  at  Northampton. 

At  this  time,  Mr.  Stoddard,  though  so  much  advanced  in  years, 
had  a  good  degree  of  strength,  both  of  body  and  mind  ;  and,  for  a 
considerable  period  after  the  settlement  of  his  grandson,  he  was 
able  to  officiate  in  the  desk,  the  half  of  every  Sabbath.  Almost 
immediately  after  that  event,  he  was  permitted  to  witness  a  work 
of  divine  grace,  among  some  of  his  people ;  in  the  coiu'se  of 
which,  about  twent}^  were  believed  to  be  savingly  converted.  This 
w^as  to  him,  a  most  pleasing  circumstance,  as  w^ell  as  most  useful  to 
his  colleague  ;  who  observes,  "  I  have  reason  to  bless  God,  for  the 
great  advantage  I  had  by  it."  No  doubt  it  was  intended,  to  pre- 
pare him  for  more  important  and  interesting  scenes.  The  atten- 
tion to  religion,  though  at  no  time  very  extensive,  continued  for 
about  two  years,  and  was  followed  by  several  years  of  general  inat- 
tention and  indifference. 

Immediately  after  his  settlement,  Mr.  Edwards  commenced  the 
practice  of  preparing  two  discourses  weekly ;  one  of  which  was 
preached  as  a  Lecture,  on  an  evenmg  in  the  w^eek.  This  he  con- 
tinued, for  several  years.  Though  he  regarded  preaching  the 
Gospel,  as  the  great  duty  of  a  minister,  and  would  on  no  account 
offer  to  God,  or  dehver  to  his  people,  that,  which  was  not  the  fruit 
of  toil  and  labour ;  yet  he  resolved,  from  the  commencement  of 
his  ministr}^,  not  to  devote  the  time  of  each  week,  exclusively  to 
the  preparation  of  his  sermons,  but  to  spend  a  large  portion  of  it, 
in  the  study  of  the  Bible,  and  in  the  investigation  of  tha  more  diffi- 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  Ill 

cult  and  important  Subjects  of  Theology.  His  mode  of  study  with 
the  pen,  has  been  described,  and  was  now  vigourously  pursued,  in 
the  continuation  of  his  "  Miscellanies,"  and  his  "  Notes  on  the 
Scriptures,"  as  v»^ell  as  of  a  work,  entitled,  "  The  Tji^es  of  the 
Messiah  in  the  Old  Testament,"  which  he  appears  to  have  com- 
menced, while  a  candidate  for  the  ministry.  With  an  infirm  con- 
stitution, and  health  ordinarily  feeble,  it  was  obviously  impossible^ 
however,  to  carry  tiiis  Resolution  into  practice,  without  the  most 
strict  attention  to  diet,  exercise  and  method  ;  but  in  all  these  points, 
his  habits  had  long  been  formed,  and  persevered  in,  with  a  direct 
reference  to  the  best  improvement  of  time,  and  the  greatest  effi- 
ciency of  his  intellectual  powers.  In  eating  and  drinking,  he  was 
unusually  abstemious,  and  constantly  watchful.  He  carefully  ob- 
served the  effects  of  the  different  sorts  of  food,  and  selected  those, 
which  best  suited  his  constitution,  and  rendered  him  most  fit  for 
mental  labour.  Having  also  ascertained  the  quantity  of  food, 
which,  while  it  sustained  his  bodily  strength,  left  liis  mind  most 
sprightly  and  active,  he  most  scrupulously  and  exactly  coniined 
himself  to  the  prescribed  limits ;  regarding  it  as  a  shame  and  a  sm, 
to  waste  his  time,  and  his  mental  strength,  by  animal  indulgence. 
In  this  respect,  he  lived  hy  rule,  and  constantly  practised  great  self- 
denial  ;  as  he  did  also,  vvith  regard  to  the  time  passed  in  sleep.  He 
accustomed  himself  to  rise  at  four,  or  between  four  and  five  in  the 
mormng,  and,  iu  winter,  spent  several  of  those  hours  in  study,  wliich 
are  commonly  wasted  in  slumber.  In  the  evening,  he  usually  al- 
lowed himself  a  season  of  relaxation,  in  the  midst  of  his  family. 

His  most  usual  diversion  in  summer,  was  riding  on  horseback^ 
and  walking;  and  in  his  solitary  rides  and  walks,  he  appears  to- 
have  decided,  before  leaving  home,  on  what  subjects  to  meditate.. 
He  would  commonly,  unless  diverted  by  company,  ride  two  or 
three  miles  after  dinner,  to  some  lonely  grove,  where  he  would  dis- 
mount and  walk  awhile.  At  such  times,  he  generally  carried  his 
pen  and  ink  \\ath  him,  to  note  any  thought  that  might  be  suggested, 
and  which  promised  some  light  on  any  important  subject.  In  win- 
ter, he  was  accustomed,  almost  daily,  to  take  his  axe,  and  cut 
wood  moderately,  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  or  more.  In  soli- 
tary rides  of  considerable  length,  he  adopted  a  kind  of  artificial 
memory.  Having  pursued  a  given  subject  of  thought,  to  its  proper 
results,  he  would  pin  a  small  piece  of  paper  on  a  given  spot  in  his 
coat,  and  charge  his  mind  to  associate  the  subject  and  the  piece  of 
paper.  He  would  then  repeat  the  same  process  with  a  second 
subject  of  thought,  fastening  the  token  in  a  different  place,  and 
then  a  third,  and  a  fourth,  as  the  time  might  permit.  From  a  ride 
of  several  days,  he  would  usually  bring  home  a  considerable  num- 
ber of  these  remembrancers ;  and,  on  going  to  his  study,  would 
take  them  off,  one  by  one,  in  regular  order,  and  write  down  th^ 
n'ain  of  thought,  of  which  each  was  intended  to  remind  him  = 


112  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT   EDWARDS- 

"He  did  not,"  observes  Dr,  Hopkins,  "make  it  his  custom,  to 
visit  his  people  in  tlieir  ovm  houses,  unless  he  was  sent  for  by  the 
sick  ;  or  he  heard  that  they  were  under  some  special  affliction.  In- 
stead of  visiting  from  house  to  house,  he  used  to  preach  frequently 
at  private  meetings,  in  particular  neighbourhoods ;  and  often  call 
the  yonng  people  and  children  to  his  own  house,  when  he  used  to 
pray  with  them,  and  treat  with  them  in  a  manner  suited  to  their 
years  and  circumstances ;  and  he  catechised  the  children  in  public, 
every  Sabbath  in  the  forenoon.  And  he  used,  sometimes,  to  pro- 
pose questions  to  particular  young  persons,  in  wTiting,  for  them  to 
answer,  after  a  proper  time  given  to  them  to  prepare.  In  putting 
out  these  questions,  he  endeavoured  to  suit  them  to  the  age,  genius 
and  abiUty  of  those,  to  whom  they  were  given.  His  questions  wer© 
;generally  such,  as  required  but  a  short  answer  ;  and  yet,  could  not 
be  answered,  without  a  particular  knowledge  of  some  historical 
part  of  the  Scriptures;  and  therefore  led,  and  even  obliged,  per- 
sons to  study  the  Bible. 

"  He  did  not  neglect  visitmg  his  people  from  house  to  house, 
because  he  did  not  look  upon  it,  in  ordinary  cases,  to  be  one  im- 
portant part  of  the  work  of  a  Gospel  minister ;  but,  because  he- 
supposed  that  ministers  should,  with  respect  to  this,  consult  their 
own  talents  and  circumstances,  and  visit  more  or  less,  according  to 
the  degree,  in  which  they  could  hope  thereby,  to  promote  the 
great  ends  of  the  ministiy.  He  observed,  that  some  had  a  talent 
for  entertaining  and  profiting,  by  occasional  visits  among  their  peo- 
ple. The}'  have  words  at  command,  and  a  facility  at  introducing 
profitable  religious  discourse,  in  a  manner  free,  natural  and  famihar, 
and  apparently  \\ithout  design  or  contrivance.  He  supposed,  that 
such  had  a  call,  to  spend  a  great  deal  of  their  time,  in  visiting  their 
people ;  but  he  looked  on  his  own  talents,  to  be  quite  otherwise. 
He  was  not  able  to  enter  into  a  free  conversation  \\ith  every  person 
he  met,  and,  in  an  easy  manner,  turn  it  to  whatever  topic  he  pleas- 
ed, without  the  help  of  others,  and  it  may  be,  against  their  inclina- 
tions. He  therefore  found,  tliat  his  visits  of  this  kind,  must  be,  in 
a  great  degree,  unprofitable.  And  as  he  was  settled  in  a  large 
parish,  it  would  have  taken  up  a  great  part  of  his  time,  to  visit  from 
house  to  house,  which  he  thought  he  could  spend,  in  his  study,  to 
much  more  valuable  purposes,  and  so  better  promote  the  great  ends 
of  his  ministry.  For  it  appeared  to  him,  that  he  could  do  the 
greatest  good  to  the  souls  of  men,  and  most  promote  the  cause  of 
Christ,  by  preaching  and  WTiting,  and  conversing  with  persons  un- 
der religious  impressions,  in  his  study ;  whither  he  encouraged  all 
such  to  repair  ;  where  they  might  be  sure,  in  ordinary  cases,  to 
find  him,  and  to  be  allowed  easy  access  to  him ;  and  where  they 
were  treated  with  all  desirable  tenderness,  kindness  and  familia- 
rity." 

Owmg  to  his  constant  watchfulness,  and  self-denial  in  food  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  113 

sleep,  and  his  regular  attention  to  bodily  exercise,  notwithstanding 
the  teebleness  of  his  constitution,  few  students  are  capable  of  more 
close  or  more  long  continued  application,  than  he  was.  He  com- 
monly spent  thirteen  hours,  eveiy  day,  in  liis  study ;  and  these 
hours  w^ere  passed,  not  m  perusing  or  treasuring  up  the  thoughts  of 
others,  but  in  employments  far  more  exhausting — in  the  investiga- 
tion of  difficult  subjects,  in  the  origination  and  arrangement  of 
thoughts,  in  the  invention  of  arguments,  and  in  the  discovery  of 
truths  and  principles.  Nor  was  his  exact  method,  in  the  distribu- 
tion of  his  tmie,  of  less  essential  service.  In  consequence  of  his 
uniform  regularity  and  self-denial,  and  the  force  of  habit,  the 
powers  of  his  mind  were  alw  ays  at  his  command,  and  would  do 
their  prescribed  task  in  the  time  appointed.  This  enabled  him  to 
assign  the  preparation  of  his  sermons,  each  week,  to  given  days, 
and  specific  subjects  of  investigation  to  otlier  given  days ;  and  ex- 
cept in  cases  of  sickness,  or  journepng,  or  some  other  extraordi- 
nary interruption,  it  was  rare,  indeed,  that  he  failed  of  accomplish- 
iug  every  part  of  his  weekly  task,  or  that  he  was  pressed  for  time 
in  the  accomplishment.  So  exact  was  the  distribution  of  his  time, 
and  so  perfect  the  command  of  his  mental  powers,  that  in  addition 
to  his  preparation  of  two  discourses  in  each  week,  his  stated  and 
occasional  lectures,  and  his  customary  pastoral  duties,  he  continued 
regularly  his  "  Notes  on  the  Scriptures,*'  his  "  Miscella- 
nies," his  "  Types  of  the  Messiah,"  and  a  work  which  he 
soon  commenced,  entitled,  "  Prophecies  of  the  Messiah  in 
the  Old  Testament,  and  their  Fulfilment." 

On  the  28th  of  July,  1727,  Mr.  Edvvards  was  married,  at  New 
Haven,  to  Miss  Sarah  Pierrepont.  Her  paternal  grandfather, 
John  Pierrepont,  Esq.  who  came  from  England  and  resided  in 
Roxbury,  IMassachusetts,  was  a  younger  branch  of  a  most  distin- 
guished family,  in  his  own  country.  Her  father,  the  Rev.  Ja^ies 
Pierrepont,  was  "  an  eminent,  pious  and  useful  minister,  at  New 
Haven."  He  married  Mary,  the  daughter  of  the  Rev.  Samuel 
Hooker,  of  F^rmington.  who  was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Thomas 
Hooker,  of  Hartford,  familiarly  denominated  "the  father  of  the 
Connecticut  Churches,"  and  "  well  known,  in  the  Churches  of 
England,  for  his  distinguished  talents  and  most  ardent  piety."  Mr. 
Pierrepont  was  one  of  the  principal  founders,  and  one  of  the  Trus- 
tees of  Yale  College  ;  and,  to  help  forward  the  infant  seminary, 
read  lectures  to  the  students,  for  some  considerable  time,  as  Pro- 
fessor of  Moral  Philosophy.  The  Platform  of  the  Connecticut 
Churches,  estabhshed  at  Saybrook,  in  1708,  is  ascribed  to  his  pen. 
Miss  Pierrepont  w^as  born  on  the  9th  of  January,  1710,  and  at  the 
time  of  her  marriage,  was  in  the  18th  year  of  her  age.  She  w^as 
a  young  lady  of  uncommon  beauty.  Not  only  is  this  the  language 
of  tradition  ;  but  Dr.  Hopkins,  who  first  saw  her  when  the  mother 
of  seven  children,  savs  she  was  more  than  ordinarily  beaupful ;  and 

Vol,  L  '  15 


il4  LIFE    UF    PKESIDENT    EDWARDS^ 

her  portrait,  taken  by  a  respectable  English  painter,*  while  it  pre- 
sents a  form  and  features  not  often  rivalled,  exhibits  also  that  pe- 
culiar loveliness  of  expression,  which  is  the  combined  result  of  in- 
telligence, cheerfulness  and  benevolence.  The  native  powers  of 
her  mind,  Avere  of  a  superior  order  ;  and  her  parents  being  in  easy 
circumstances,  and  of  liberal  views,  provided  for  their  children  all 
the  advantages  of  an  enlightened  and  j^olished  education.  In  her 
manners  she  was  gentle  and  courteous,  amiable  in  her  behaviour^ 
and  the  law  of  kindness  appeared  to  govern  all  her  conversation 
and  conduct.  She  was  also  a  rare  example  of  early  piety ;  having 
exhibited  the  life  and  power  of  rehgion,  and  that  in  a  remarkable 
manner,  when  only  five  years  of  age  ;f  and  having  also  confirmed 
the  hopes  which  her  friends  then  cherished,  by  the  uniform  and  in- 
creasing excellence  of  her  character,  in  childhood  and  youth.  Sa 
warm  and  animated  were  her  religious  feelings,  in  every  period  of 
life,  that  they  might  perhaps  have  been  regarded  as  enthusiastic^ 
had  they  not  been  under  the  conti-ol  of  true  delicacy  and  sound 
discretion.  Mr.  Edwards  had  known  her  several  years  before  their 
marriage,  and  from  the  following  passage,  Amtten  on  a  blank  leaf, 
in  1723,  it  is  ob^aous,  that  even  then  her  uncommon  piety,  at  least, 
had  arrested  liis  attention.  "  They  say  there  is  a  young  lady  in 
[New  Haven]  who  is  beloved  of  that  Great  Being,  who  made  and 
rules  the  world,  and  that  there  are  certain  seasons  in  which  this 
Great  Being,  in  some  way  or  other  invisible,  comes  to  her  and  fills 
her  mind  \\-ith  exceeding  sweet  delight,  and  that  she  hardly  cares 
for  any  thing,  except  to  meditate  on  him — that  she  expects  after 
a  while  to  be  received  up  where  he  is,  to  be  raised  up  out  of  the 
world  and  caught  up  into  heaven  ;  being  assured  that  he  loves  her 
too  well  to  let  her  remain  at  a  distance  from  him  always.  There 
she  is  to  dwell  with  liim,  and  to  be  ravished  with  his  love  and  de- 
light forever.  Therefore,  if  you  present  all  the  world  before  her, 
with  the  richest  of  its  treasures,  she  disregards  it  and  cares  not  for 
it,  and  is  unmmdful  of  any  pain  or  affliction.  She  has  a  strange 
sweetness  in  her  mind,  and  singular  purity  in  her  affections ;  is 
most  just  and  conscientious  in  all  her  conduct }  and  you  could  not 
persuade  her  to  do  any  thing  A^Tong  or  sinful,  if  you  w^ould  give  her 
all  the  world,  lest  she  should  offend  this  Great  Being.  She  is  of  a 
wonderful  sweetness,  calmness  and  universal  benevolence  of  mind  ; 
especially  after  this  Great  God  has  manifested  himself  to  her  mind- 


*  The  Rev.  Dr.  Erskine,  the  waiin  friend  and  the  correspondent  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, being  desirous  of  procuring  a  correct  portrait,  both  of  him  and  his  wife, 
and  hearing  that  a  respectable  English  painter  was  in  Boston,  forwarded  to  his 
a^cnt  in  that  town,  the  sum  requisite,  not  only  for  the  portraits,  but  for  the  ex- 
penses of  the  journey.  They  were  taken  in  1740;  and  after  the  death  of  Dr, 
Erskine,  were  very  kindly  transmitted  by  his  Executor,  to  Dr.  Edwards. 

t  Hopkins'  Life  of  Edwards.  Dr.  H.  resided  in  the  family  a  considerable 
lime. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  115 

She  \v\\\  sometimes  go  about  from  place  to  place,  singing  sweetly ; 
and  seems  to  be  always  full  of  joy  and  pleasure;  and  no  one  knows 
for  what.  She  loves  to  be  alone,  walking  in  the  fields  and  groves, 
and  seems  to  have  some  one  invisible  always  conversing  with  her.'- 
After  due  allowance  is  made  for  animation  of  feeling,  the  reader 
will  be  convinced,  that  such  a  testimony,  concerning  a  young  lady 
of  thirteen,  could  not  have  been  given,  by  so  competent  a  judge, 
had  there  not  been  something  unusual  in  the  purity  and  elevation 
of  her  mind,  and  the  excellence  of  her  life.  Few  persons,  we  are 
convinced,  no  older  than  she  was  at  the  time  of  her  marriage,  have 
made  equal  progress  in  holiness  ;  and  rare,  very  rare,  is  the  in- 
stance, in  which  such  a  connexion  results  in  a  purer  or  more  unin- 
terrupted happiness.  It  was  a  union,  founded  on  high  personal 
esteem,  and  on  a  mutual  affection,  which  continually  grew,  and 
ripened,  and  mellowed  for  the  time  of  harvest.  The  station,  which 
she  was  called  to  fill  at  this  early  age,  is  one  of  great  delicacy,  as 
well  as  responsibility,  and  is  attended  with  many  difficulties.  She 
entered  on  the  performance  of  the  various  duties  to  her  family  and 
the  people,  to  which  it  summoned  her,  with  a  firm  reliance  on  the 
guidance  and  support  of  God  ;  and  perhaps  no  stronger  evidence 
can  be  given  of  her  substantial  worth,  than  that  from  the  first  she 
discharged  them  in  such  a  manner,  as  to  secure  the  high  and  in- 
creasing approbation  of  all  who  knew  her. 

The  attention  to  religion,  which  has  been  menfioned,  as  com- 
mencing about  the  period  of  Mr.  Edwards'  ordination,  though  at 
no  time  extensive,  continued  about  two  years,  and  was  followed  by 
several  years  of  inattention  and  indifference.  His  public  labours 
were  continued  with  faithfulness,  but  whh  no  peculiar  success  ;  and 
he  had  reason  to  lament  the  too  perceptible  declension  of  his  peo- 
ple, both  in  rehgion  and  morals. 

On  the  11th  of  February,  1729,  his  venerable  colleague  was 
removed  from  the  scene  of  his  earthly  labours.  This  event  was 
sincerely  and  tenderly  lamented  by  the  people  of  Northampton,  as 
well  as  extensively  throughout  the  Province.  His  funeral  sermon 
was  preached  by  his  son-in-law,  the  Rev.  William  Williams,  of 
Hatfield ;  and  numerous  clergymen,  in  their  own  desks,  paid  a 
similar  tribute  of  respect  to  his  memory. 

In  the  spring  of  the  same  year,  the  health  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in 
consequence  of  too  close  apphcation,  so  far  failed  him,  that  he  was 
obhged  to  be  absent  from  his  people  several  months.  Early  in 
May,  he  was  at  New  Haven,  in  company  with  Mrs.  Edwards  and 
their  infant  child,  a  daughter  born  Aug.  25th,  1728.  In  Septem- 
ber, his  father,  in  a  letter  to  one  of  his  daughters,  expresses  the 
hope  that  the  health  of  his  son  is  so  far  restored,  as  to  enable  him 
to  resume  his  labours,  and  to  preach  twice  on  the  Sabbath.  The 
summer  was  probably  passed,  partly  at  Northampton,  and  partly  ip 
travellinir. 


110  LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

His  visit  to  Windsor,  in  September,  gave  him  his  last  opportn* 
mty  of  seeing  his  sister  Jerusiia,  v\'hom  he  tenderly  loveci ;  and  vvho 
a  little  while  before,  had  passed  a  considerable  time  with  her 
friends  in  T'^ortharapton.  She  was  attacked  with  a  malignant  fe- 
ver, in  December,  and,  on  the  22d  of  that  month,  died  at  her 
father's  house.  The  uncommon  strength  and  excellence  of  her 
character,  rendered  her  peculiarly  dear  to  all  her  relatives  and 
friends ;  and  from  the  testimonials  of  her  father,  of  fonr  of  her 
sisters,  and  of  a  friend  of  the  family  at  a  distance,  written  soon 
after  her  death,^  I  have  ascertained  the  foUowTiig  particulars.  She 
w^as  born  in  June,  1710,  and,  on  the  testimony  of  that  friend,  was 
a  young  lady  of  great  sweetness  of  temper,  of  a  fine  understanding 
and  of  a  beautiful  countenance.  She  w^as  devoted  to  reading  from 
childhood,  and  though  fcnd  of  books  of  taste  and  amusement,  she 
custoniurily  preferred  those  which  require  close  thought,  and  are 
fitted  to  strengthen  and  inform  the  m^ind.  Like  her  sisters,  she 
had  received  a  thorough  education,  both  English  and  classical,  and 
by  her  proficiency,  had  justified  the  views  of  her  father  and  sus- 
tained the  honour  and  claims  of  her  sex.  In  conversation,  she 
was  solid  and  instructiv'e  beyond  her  years,  yet,  at  the  same  time, 
was  sprightly  and  active,  and  had  an  uncommon  share  of  native  \vit 
and  humour.  Her  wit  w^as  always  delicate  and  kind,  and  used 
merely  for  recreation.  According  to  the  rule  she  prescribed  to 
another,  it  constituted  "  the  sauce,  and  not  the  food,  in  the  enter- 
tainment." Being  fond  of  retirement  and  meditation  from  early 
life,  she  passed  nuich  of  her  leisure  time  in  solitary  walks  in  the 
groves  behind  her  father's  house  ;  and  the  richness  of  her  mind, 
in  moral  reflection  and  philosophical  remark,  proved  that  these 
hours  were  not  wasted  in  reverie,  but  occupied  by  solid  thought 
and  profitable  contemplation.  Habitually  serene  and  cheerftd,  she 
was  contented  and  happy ;  not  envious  of  others,  not  desirous  of 
admiration,  not  ambitious  nor  aspiring  :  and  while  she  valued  high- 
\y  the  esteem  of  her  friends  and  of  the  wise  and  good,  she  was 
firmly  convinced  that  her  happiness  depended,  chiefly  and  ulti- 
mately, on  the  state  of  her  own  mind.  She  appeared  to  have 
gained  the  entire  government  of  her  temper  and  her  passions,  dis- 
covered uncommon  equanimity"  and  firmness  under  trials,  and 
while,  in  diflicult  cases,  she  sought  the  best  advice,  yet  ultimately 
acted  for  herself.  Her  religious  life  began  in  childhood  ;  and  from 
that  time,  meditation,  prayer,  and  reading  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
were  not  a  prescribed  task,  but  a  coveted  enjoyment.  Her  sisters, 
who  knew  hov/  much  of  her  time  she  daily  passed  alone,  had  the 
best  reason  to  believe  that  no  place  v>as  so  pleasant  to  her  as  her 
own  retirement,  and  no  society  so  delightful  as  solitude  with  God. 


This  last  was  publis^^ed. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  117 

She  read  Theology,  as  a  Science,  with  the  deepest  interest,  and 
pursued  the  systematic  study  of  the  Scriptures,  by  the  help  of  thr- 
best  commentaries.  Her  observance  of  the  Sabbath  was  exem- 
plaiy,  in  solemnly  preparing  for  it,  in  allotting  to  it  the  prescribed 
hours,  and  in  devoting  it  only  to  sacred  employments ;  and  in  the 
solemn  and  entire  devotion  of  her  mind  to  the  duties  of  the  sanc- 
tuary, she  appeared,  habitually,  to  feel  ^^ith  David,  "  Hohness  be- 
cometh  thine  house  forever."  Few  persons  attend  more  closely  to 
preaching,  or  judge  more  correctly  concerning  it,  or  have  higher 
pleasure  in  that  which  is  solid,  pungent  and  practical.  She  saw  and 
conversed  with  God,  in  his  works  of  creation  and  providence. 
Her  religious  joy  was,  at  times,  intense  and  elevated.  After  telling 
one  of  her  sisters,  on  a  particular  occasion,  that  she  could  not  de- 
scribe it,  she  observed  to  her,  that  it  seemed  like  a  streak  of  light 
shining  in  a  dark  place  ;  and  reminded  her  of  a  line  in  Watt's 
Lyrics, 

"And  sudden,  from  the  cleaving  skies,  a  gleam  of  glory  broke." 

Her  conscience  w^as  truly  enlightened,  and  her  conduct  appear- 
ed to  be  governed  by  principle.  She  approved  of  the  best  things ; 
discovered  great  reverence  for  religion,  and  strong  attachment  to 
the  truly  pious  and  conscientious ;  was  severe  in  her  estimate  of 
herself,  and  charitable  in  judging  of  others ;  was  not  easily  pro- 
voked, and  usually  tried  to  excuse  the  provocation  ;  was  unapt  to 
cherish  prejudices,  and  lamented,  and  strov^e  to  conceal,  the  faults 
of  christians. 

On  the  testimony  of  those  who  knew  her  best,  "  She  was  a  re- 
markably loving,  dutiful,  obedient  daughter,  and  a  very  kind  and 
loving  sister,"  "  very  helpful  and  serviceable  in  the  family,  and 
willingly  labouring  with  her  own  hands,"  very  "  kind  and  friendly 
to  her  neighbours,"  attentive  to  the  sick,  charitable  to  the  poor, 
prone  to  sympathize  with  the  afflicted,  and  merciful  to  the  brutes ; 
and  at  the  same  time,  respectful  to  superiors,  obhging  to  equals, 
condescending  and  affable  to  inferiors,  and  manifesting  sincere  good 
will  to  all  mankind.  Courteous  and  easy  in  her  manners,  she  was 
also  modest,  unostentatious  and  retiring  ;  and,  while  she  uniformly 
respected  herself,  she  commanded  the  respect  of  all  who  saw  her. 
She  w  as  fond  of  all  that  was  comely  in  dress,  but  averse  to  every 
thing  gay  and  gaudy.  She  loved  peace,  and  strove  to  reconcile 
those  who  were  at  variance  ;  was  delicately  attentive  to  those  of 
her  sex,  who  were  slighted  by  others;  received  reproofs  with 
meekness,  and  told  others  of  their  faults,  with  so  much  sweetness 
and  faithfulness,  as  to  increase  their  esteem  and  affection  for  her- 
self. She  detested  all  guile,  and  management,  and  deception,  all 
flattery  and  falsehood,  and  wholly  refused  to  associate  with  those 
who  exhibited  this  character.     She  was  most  careful  and  select  in 


118  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

her  friendships,  and  most  true  and  faithful  to  her  friends — highly- 
valuing  their  affection,  and  discovering  the  xieepest  interest  in  their 
welfare.  Her  conversation  and  conduct,  indicated  uncommon  in- 
nocence and  purity  of  mind;  and  she  avoided  many  things,  which 
are  thought  correct  by  multitudes,  who  are  strictly  virtuous.  Dur- 
ing her  sickness,  she  was  not  forsaken.  A  day  or  two  before  its 
termination,  she  manifested  a  remarkable  admiration  of  the  grace 
and  mercy  of  God,  through  Jesus  Christ,  to  sinners,  and  particu- 
larly to  herself :  saying,  "It  is  wonderful,  it  surprizes  me."  A 
part  of  the  time,  she  was  in  som.e  degree  delirious ;  but,  when  her 
mind  wandered,  it  seemed  to  wander  heavenward.  Just  before 
her  death,  she  attempted  to  sing  a  hymn,  entitled,  "  The  Absence 
of  Christ,"  and  died,  in  the  full  possession  of  her  rational  powers, 
expressing  her  hope  of  eternal  salvation  through  his  blood.  This 
first  example  of  the  ravages  of  death,  in  this  numerous  family, 
was  a  most  trying  event  to  all  its  members ;  and  the  tenderness, 
\Adth  which  they  cherished  the  memory  of  her  who  was  gone,  pro- 
bably terminated  only  with  Ufe. 

The  second  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards,  was  born  on 
the  26th  of  the  following  April,  and  named  Jerusha,  after  their  de- 
ceased sister. 

In  July,  17.31,  Mr.  Edwards  being  in  Boston,  delivered  a  Ser- 
mon at  the  public  lecture,  entitled,  "  God  glorified  in  Man's  De- 
pendence," from  1  Cor.  i.  29,  30.  "  That  no  jlesh  should  glory  in 
his  presence.  But  of  him  are  ye  in  Christ  Jesus,  who  of  God  is 
made  unto  us  wisdom,  and  righteousness,  and  sanctification,  and  re- 
demption. That  according  as  it  is  written.  He  that  glorieth,  let 
him  glory  in  the  Lord.''''  It  was  published,  at  the  request  of  seve- 
ral ministers,  and  others  who  heard  it,  and  preceded  by  a  preface, 
by  the  Rev.  Messrs.  Prince  and  Cooper,  of  Boston.  This  was 
his  first  pubhcation,  and  is  scarcely  known  to  the  American  reader 
of  his  Works.  The  subject  was  at  that  time  novel,  as  exhibited 
by  the  preacher,  and  made  a  deep  impression  on  the  audience,  and 
on  the  Rev.  Gentlemen  who  were  particularly  active  in  procuring 
its  publication.  "  It  was  with  no  small  difficulty,"  say  they,  "  that 
the  author's  youth  and  modesty  were  prevailed  on,  to  let  him  ap- 
pear a  preacher  in  our  pubhc  lecture,  and  afterwards  to  give  us  a 
copy  of  his  discourse,  at  the  desire  of  divers  ministers,  and  otliers 
who  heard  it.  But,  as  we  quickly  found  him  to  be  a  workman  that 
need  not  be  ashamed  before  his  l3rethren,  our  satisfaction  was  the 
greater,  to  see  him  pitching  upon  so  noble  a  subject,  and  treating  it 
with  so  much  strength  and  clearness,  as  the  judicious  will  perceive 
in  the  following  composure  :  a  subject,  which  secures  to  God  his 
great  design,  in  the  work  of  fallen  man's  redemption  by  the  Lord 
Jesus  Clnist,  which  is  evidently  so  laid  out,  as  that  the  glory  of  the 
whole  should  return  to  him  the  blessed  ordainer,  purchaser,  and 
applier  ;  a  subject,  which  enters  deep  into  practical  religion  ;  with- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  119 

out  the  belief  of  which,  that  must  soon  die  in  the  hearts  and  lives 
of  men." 

The  following  is  the  testimony,  borne  by  these  excellent  men, 
to  tlie  talents  and  piety  of  the  author  : 

"  We  cannot,  therefore,  but  express  our  joy  and  thankfulness, 
that  the  great  Head  of  the  Church  is  pleased  still  to  raise  up,  from 
among  the  children  of  his  people,  for  the  supply  of  his  churches, 
those  who  assert  and  maintain  these  evangehcal  principles ;  and 
that  our  churches,  notwithstanding  all  their  degeneracies,  have  still 
a  high  value  for  just  principles,  and  for  those  who  publicly  own  and 
teach  them.  And,  as  we  cannot  but  wish  and  pray,  that  the  Col- 
lege in  the  neighbouring  colony,  as  well  as  our  own,  may  be  a 
fruitful  mother  of  many  such  sons  as  the  author ;  so  we  heartily  re- 
joice, in  the  special  favour  of  Providence,  in  bestomng  such  a  rich 
gift  on  the  happy  church  of  Northampton,  which  has,  for  so  many 
lustres  of  years,  flounshed  under  the  influence  of  such  pious  doc- 
trines, taught  them  in  tire  excellent  ministry  of  their  late  venerable 
pastor,  whose  gift  and  spirit  we  hope  wiW  long  live  and  shine  in  his 
grandson,  to  the  end  that  they  may  abound  in  all  the  lovely  fruits 
of  evangelical  humility  and  thankfulness,  to  the  glory  of  God." 

The  discourse  itself,  deserves  this  high  commendation.  It  was 
the  commencement  of  a  series  of  efforts,  on  the  part  of  the  author, 
to  illustrate  the  glory  of  God,  as  appearing  in  the  greatest  of  all  his 
works,  the  work  of  man's  redemption.  Rare  indeed  is  the  instance, 
in  which  a  first  publication  is  equally  rich  in  condensed  thought, 
or  in  new  and  elevated  conceptions. 

The  third  child  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards,  also  a  daughter,  was 
bom,  February  13th,  1732,  and  received  the  name  of  Esther,  af- 
ter his  Mother  and  Mrs.  Stoddard. 


CHAPTEK  X. 

Hemarkahle  Revival  of  Religion,  in  1734,  and  '35. — Its  Extent 
and  Power. — Manner  of  treoAing  Awakened  Sinners. —  Causes 
of  its  Decline. — Religious  Controversy  in  Hampshire. — Death 
of  his  Sister  Lucy. —  Characteristics  of  Mrs.  Edwards. — Re- 
mainder of  Personal  JS'arrative. 

Early  in  1732,  the  state  of  religion  in  Northampton,  which  had 
been  for  several  years  on  the  decline,  began  gradually,  and  per- 
ceptibly, to  grow  better ;  and,  an  obvious  check  was  given,  to  the 
open  prevalence  of  disorder  and  licentiousness.  Immoral  practices, 
which  had  long  been  customary,  were  regarded  as  disgraceful,  and 
extensively  renounced.  The  young,  who  had  been  the  chief  abet- 
tors of  these  disorders,  and  on  whom  the  means  of  grace  had  ex- 
erted no  salutary  influence,  discovered  more  of  a  disposition  to 
hearken  to  the  counsels  of  their  parents,  and  the  admonitions  of 
the  Gospel,  relinquished  by  degrees  their  more  gross  and  public- 
sins,  and  attended  on  the  worship  of  the  Sabbath  more  generally, 
and  with  greater  decorum  and  seriousness  of  mind ;  and,  among 
the  people  as  a  body,  there  was  a  larger  number  than  before,  who 
manifested  a  personal  interest  in  their  own  salvation.  This  desira- 
ble change  in  the  congregation,  became  more  and  more  percepti- 
ble, throughout  that  and  the  following  year.  At  the  latter  end  of 
1733,  there  appeared  a  very  unusual  flexibleness,  and  a  disposi- 
tion to  yield  to  advice,  in  the  young  of  both  sexes  ;  on  an-occasion, 
too,  and  under  circumstances,  v\"here  it  was  wholly  unexpected.  It 
had  long,  and  perhaps  always,  been  the  custom  in  Northampton,  to 
devote  the  Sabbath  evening,  and  the  evening  after  the  stated  pub- 
lic lecture,  to  visiting  and  diversion.  On  a  Sabbath  preceding  one 
of  the  public  lectures,  Mr.  Edwards  preached  a  sermon  on  the 
subject,  explaining  the  mischievous  consequences  of  this  unhappy 
practice,  exhorting  the  young  to  a  reformation ;  and  calling  on  pa- 
rents and  masters,  universally,  to  come  to  an  explicit  agreement 
with  one  another,  to  govern  their  families  in  this  respect,  and  on 
these  evenings,  to  keep  their  children  and  servants  at  home.  The 
following  evening,  it  so  happened  that,  among  a  considerable  num- 
ber visiting  at  his  house,  there  were  individuals  from  every  part  of 
the  town ;  and  he  took  that  occasion,  to  propose  to  those  w^ho 
were  present,  that  they  should,  in  his  name,  request  the  heads  of 
families  in  their  respective  neighbourhoods,  to  assemble  the  nex^. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDV/ARDS.  121 

day,  and  converpc  upon  tlie  subject,  and  agree,  every  one,  to  re- 
strain his  own  family.  They  did  so.  Such  a  meeting  vvas  accor- 
dingly held  in  each  neighbourhood,  and  the  proposal  was  univer- 
sally comphed  with.  But,  when  they  made  known  this  agreement 
to  their  families,  they  found  little  or  no  restraint  necessary  ;  for  the 
young  people,  almost  without  exception,  declared  that  they  were 
comnnced,  by  what  they  had  heard  from  the  desk,  of  the  impropri-^ 
ety  of  the  practice,  and  were  ready  cheerfully  to  relinquish  it. 
From  that  time  forward,  it  was  given  up,  and  there  was  an  imme- 
diate and  thorough  reformation  of  those  disorders  and  immoralities, 
which  it  had  occasioned.  This  unexpected  occurrence,  tenderly 
affected  and  solemnized  the  minds  of  the  people,  and  happily  pre- 
pared them  for  events  of  still  deeper  interest. 

Just  after  this,  there  began  to  be  an  unusual  concern  on  the  sub- 
ject of  religion,  at  a  Kctie  hamlet  called  Pascommuck,  consistins;  of 
a  few^  farm  houses,  about  three  miles  from  the  principal  settlement; 
and  a  number  of  persons,  at  that  place,  appeared  to  be  savingly 
converted.  In  the  ensuing  spring,  the  sudden  and  awful  death  of 
a  young  man,  Vrho  became  immediately  delirious,  and  continued  so 
until  he  died  ;  followed  by  that  of  a  young  married  woman,  w^ho, 
after  great  mental  suffering,  appeared  to  find  peace  with  God,  and 
died  full  of  comfort,  in  a  most  earnest  and  affecting  manner  warn- 
ing and  counselling  others ;  contibuted  extensively,  and  powerful- 
ly, to  solemnize  the  minds  of  the  young,  and  to  excite  a  deeper 
interest  on  the  subject  of  religion,  throughout  the  congregation. 

The  fourth  child  and  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards,  was- 
born  April  7th,  1734,  and  baptized  by  the  name  of  Mary. 

In  the  autumn,  JMr.  Edwards  recommended  to  the  young  peo- 
ple, on  the  day  of  each  stated  public  lecture,  to  assemble  in  various 
parts  of  the  town,  and  spend  the  evening  in  prayer,  and  the  other 
duties  of  social  rehgion.  This  they  readily  did,  and  their  exam- 
ple was  followed,  by  those  who  w^ere  older. 

The  solemnity  of  mind,  which  nov/  began  to  pervade  the  church 
and  congregation,  and  which  was  constantly  increasing,  had  a  visi- 
ble re-action  on  all  the  labours  of  Mr.  Edwards,  public  as  well  as 
private;  and  it  udll  not  be  easy  to  find  discourses,in  any  language,more 
solemn,  spiritual  or  powerful,  than  many  of  those  which  he  now  deliv- 
ered. One  of  these,  from  Matt.  x\i.  17,  entitled,  "  A  Divine  and  Su- 
pernatural Light  immediately  imparted  to  the  Soul  by  the  Spirit  of 
God,  show^n  to  be  both  a  Scriptural  and  Rational  doctrine,"  excited 
uncommon  interest  in  the  hearers,  and,  at  their  request,  w^as  now 
published.  As  an  exhibition  of  rehgion,  as  existing  within  the  souly 
in  one  of  its  peculiar  forms  or  aspects,  it  \vill  be  found,  in  the  pe- 
rusal, remarkably  adapted  to  enlighten,  to  refresh  and  to  sanctify ; 
w^hile  the  evidence  of  the  reality  of  such  a  Hght,  as  derived  both  from 
the  Scriptures  and  from  Reason,  wiU  convince  every  unprejudiced 
mind. 

Vol.  I.  la 


ii^ii  LIFE    Oi     PRESIDENT    EDVVAKDB, 

At  this  time,  a  violent  controversy,  respecting  Arminianism,  pre- 
vailed extensively  over  that  part  of  New-England,  and  the  friends 
of  vital  piety  in  Northampton,  regarded  it  as  likely  to  have  a  most 
unhappy  bearing  on  the  interests  of  religion  in  that  place ;  but, 
contrary  to  their  fears,  it  served  to  solemnize,  rather  than  to  excite 
animosity,  and  was  powerfully  oveiTuled  for  the  promotion  of  reli- 
gion. Mr.  Edwards,  well  knowing  that  the  points  at  issue  had  an 
immediate  bearing  on  the  great  subject  of  Salvation,  and  that  man- 
kind never  can  be  so  powerfully  affected  by  any  subject,  as  when 
their  attention  to  it  has  been  strongly  excited;  determined,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  fears  and  the  counsels  of  many  of  his  friends,  to  ex- 
plain his  own  \iews  to  liis  people,  from  the  desk.  Accordingly,  he 
preached  a  series  of  sermons,  on  the  various  points  relating  to  the 
controversy,  and  among  others,  his  w^ell-known  Discourses,  on  the 
great  doctrine  of  Justihcation  by  Faith  alone.  Foi'  this,  he  was 
severely  censured  by  numbers  on  the  spot,  as  well  as  ridiculed  by 
many  elsewhere.*  The  event,  however,  proved  that  he  had  judg- 
ed wisely.  In  his  discourses,  he  explained  the  scriptural  conditions 
of  salvation,  and  exposed  tlie  errors  then  prevalent  with  regard  to 
them,  with  so  much  force  of  argument,  and  in  a  mamier  so  solemn 
and  practical,  that  it  was  attended  with  a  signal  blessing  from  hea- 
ven, on  the  people  of  his  charge.  Many,  who  had  cherished  these 
errors,  were  cominced  that  they  could  be  justified  only  by  the  right- 
eousness of  Christ ;  while  others,  who  had  not,  were  brought  to 
feel,  that  they  must  be  renewed  by  the  Holy  Spirit ;  and  the  minds 
of  both  were  led  the  more  earnestly  to  seek  that  they  might  be  ac- 
cepted of  God.  In  the  latter  part  of  December,  five  or  six  indi- 
viduals appeared  to  be  very  suddenly  and  sa\dngly  converted,  one 
after  anodier ;  and  some  of  them,  in  a  manner  so  remarkable,  as  to 
awaken  and  solemnize  very  great  numbers,  of  all  ages  and  con- 
ditions. 

The  year  1735,  opened  on  Northampton,  in  a  most  auspicious 
manner.  A  deep  and  solemn  interest,  in  the  great  truths  of  reli- 
gion, had  become  universal  in  all  parts  of  the  town,  and  among  all 
classes  of  people.  This  was  the  only  subject  of  conversation,  in 
every   company ;  and  almost  the  only  business  of  the  people,  ap- 

*  Among  those,  who  opposed  Mr.  Edwards  on  this  occasion,  were  several 
nsembers  of  a  family,  in  a  neighbouring-  town,  nearly  connected  with  his  own, 
and  possessing,  from  its  numbers,  wealth  and  respectability,  a  considerable 
share  of  influence.  Their  religious  sentiments  differed  widely  from  his,  and 
their  opposition  to  him,  in  the  course  which  he  now  pursued,  became  direct 
and  violent.  As  his  defence  of  his  own  opinions  was  regarded  as  triumphant, 
they  appear  to  have  felt,  in  some  degree,  the  shame  and  mortification  of  a 
defeat ;  and  their  opposition  to  Mr.  Edwards,  though  he  resorted  to  every  hon- 
ourable method  of  conciliation,  became,  on  their  part,  a  settled  personal  hostil- 
ity. It  is  probable,  that  their  advice  to  Mi'.  Edwards,  to  refrain  from  the  con- 
troversy, and  particularly,  not  to  publish  his  sentiments  with  regard  to  it,  was 
given  somewhat  categorically,  and  with  a  full  expectation  that  he,  young  as  he 
was,  would  comply  with  it.  His  refusal  so  to  do,  was  an  offence  not  to  be  for- 
given.    We  shall  have  occasion  to  recur  to  this  subject  again. 


I.IFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  12,3 

peai-ed  to  be,  to  secure  their  salvation.  So  extensive  was  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Spirit  of  God,  that  there  was  scarcely  an  individual 
in  the  to^\Ti,  either  old  or  young,  who  was  left  unconcerned  about 
the  great  things  of  the  eternal  world.  This  was  true  of  the  gayest, 
of  the  most  licentious,  and  of  the  most  hostile  to  religion.  And  in 
the  midst  of  tliis  universal  attention,  the  work  of  conversion  was 
carried  on  in  the  most  astonishing  manner.  Every  day  witnessed 
its  ti'iumphs  ;  and  so  great  was  the  alteration  in  the  appearance  of 
the  town,  that  in  the  spring  and  summer  following,  it  appeared  to 
be  full  of  the  presence  of  God.  There  was  scarcely  a  house, 
which  did  not  furnish  the  tokens  of  his  presence,  and  scarcely  a 
family  which  did  not  present  the  trophies  of  his  grace.  "  The 
town,"  says  Mr.  Edwards,  "  w^as  never  so  full  of  love,  nor  so  full  of 
joy,  nor  yet  so  full  of  distress,  as  it  was  then."  Whenever  he  met 
the  people  in  the  sanctuary,  he  not  only  saw  the  house  crowded, 
but  every  hearer  eai-nest  to  receive  the  truth  of  God,  and  often 
the  whole  assembly  dissolved  in  tears :  some  weeping  for  sorrow, 
others  for  joy,  and  others  from  compassion.  In  the  months  of  March 
and  April,  when  the  work  of  God  was  carried  on  with  the  greatest 
power,  he  supposes  the  number,  apparently  of  genuine  conversions, 
to  have  been  at  least  four  a  day,  or  nearly  thirty  a  week,  take  one 
week  with  another,  for  five  or  six  weeks  together. 

During  the  winter  and  spring,  many  persons  from  the  neighbour- 
ing towns,  came  to  Northampton,  to  attend  the  stated  lectures  of 
Mr.  Edwards ;  many  others,  on  business,  or  on  visits ;  and  many 
others,  from  a  distance,  ha\ang  heard  contradictory  reports  of  the 
state  of  things,  came  to  see  and  examine  for  themselves.  Of  these, 
great  numbers  had  their  consciences  awakened,  were  sa\angly 
wrought  upon,  and  went. home  rejoicing  in  the  forgi\dng  love  of 
God.  This  appeared  to  be  the  means  of  spreading  the  same  in- 
fluence in  the  adjacent  towns,  and  in  places  more  remote,  so  that 
no  less  than  ten  townis  in  the  same  count}^,  and  seventeen  in  the 
adjoining  colony  of  Connecticut,  within  a  short  time,  were  favoured 
v\'ith  Revivals  of  Religion, 

This  was  undoubtedly  one  of  the  most  remarkable  events  of  the 
kind,  that  has  occurred  since  the  Canon  of  the  New  Testament 
was  finished.  It  was  so  on  account  of  its  universalit)'^ :  no  class, 
nor  age,  nor  description,  was  exempt.  Upwards  of  fifty  persons 
above  forty  years  of  age,  and  ten  above  ninet}^,  near  thirty  between 
ten  and  fourteen,  and  one  of  four,*  became,  in  the  view  of  Mr. 


*  Of  the  conversion  of  this  child,  whose  name  was  Phebe  Bartlett,  a  most 
minute  and  interestino;  account  is  given  in  the  "  Narrative  of  Surprizing  Con- 
versions." Dr.  Edwards,  under  date  of  March  30,  1789,  in  a  letter  to  Dr.  Ry- 
land,  says,  ''  In  answer  to  your  enquiry,  iu  a  former  letter,  concerning  Phebe 
Bartlett",  T  have  to  inform  you,  that  she  is  yet  living,  and  has  uniformly  main- 
tained the  character  of  a  true  convert." 


124  LIFE    Q'F    PilESIDEm    EDWARDS. 

Edwards,  the  subjects  of  the  renewing  grace  of  God.  It  w^as  so 
on  account  of  the  unusual  numbers,  who  appeared  to  become  chris- 
tians :  amounting  to  more  than  three  hundred  persons,  in  half  a 
year,  and  about  as  many  of  them  males  as  females.  Previous  to 
one  sacrament,  about  one  hundred  were  received  to  the  conmiun- 
ion,  and  near  sixty  previous  to  another  ;  and  the  whole  number  of 
communicants,  at  one  time,  was  about  six  hundred  and  twenty,  in- 
cludmg  almost  all  the  adult  population  of  the  town.  It  was  so  in  its 
rapid  progress,  in  its  amazing  power,  in  the  depth  of  the  con\dctions 
felt,  and  in  the  degree  of  light,  of  love,  and  of  joy  communicated ;  as 
well  as  in  its  great  extent,  and  in  its  swift  propagation,  from  place 
to  place. 

Early  in  the  progress  of  tliis  work  of  grace,  Mr.  Edwards  seems 
to  have  decided  for  himself,  the  manner  in  which  he  was  bound  to 
treat  aw^akened  sinners : — to  urge  repentance  on  every  such  sinner, 
as  his  immediate  duty ;  to  insist  that  God  is  under  no  manner  of 
obligation  to  any  unrenewed  man ;  and  that  a  man  can  challenge 
nothing,  either  in  absolute  justice,  or  by  free  promise,  on  account  of 
any  thing  he  does  before  he  repents  and  believes.  He  was  fully 
convinced  that  if  he  had  taught  those,  wdio  came  to  consult  him  in 
their  spiritual  troubles,  any  other  doctrines,  he  should  have  taken 
the  most  direct  course,  to  have  utterly  undone  them.  The  dis- 
courses, which,  beyond  measure  more  than  any  others  which  he 
preached,  '^  had  an  immediate  saving  effect,"  were  several  from 
Rom.  iii.  19,  "  That  every  mouth  may  be  stopped,^'*^m.  which  he 
endeavoured  to  shovv  that  it  would  be  just  with  God,  forever  to  re- 
ject, and  cast  off,  mere  natural  men. 

Though  it  had  not  been  the  custom,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
for  a  long  period  at  Northampton,  to  require  of  candidates  for 
admission  to  the  church,  a  credible  relation  of  the  evidences  of  their 
own  conversion,  because,  if  unconverted,  they  were  supposed  to 
have  a  right  to  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  as  a  convert- 
ing ordinance  ;  yet  Mr.  Edwards  supposed  he  had  very  "  sufficient 
evidence"  of  the  conversion  of  those  who  were  now^  admitted. 
There  can  be  but  little  doubt,  however,  that,  if  the  rules  of  the 
church  had  required,  in  every  case,  a  thorough  examination 
of  the  candidate's  piety,  the  period  of  probation  w  ould  have  been 
longer,  the  danger  of  a  false  profession  more  solemnly  realized, 
and  the  examination  of  each  individual,  by  the  pastor  of  the  church, 
as  well  ashy  himself,  far  more  strict;  or  that  many,  at  first,  regard- 
ed, both  by  themselves  and  others,  as  unquestionably  christians, 
w^ould  not,  at  that  time,  have  made  a  profession  of  religion.  But 
unfortunately  he  had  never  fully  examined  the  scriptural  ground 
for  admission  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  and,  like  many  others,  had 
taken  it  for  granted,  that  I\Ir.  Stoddard's  view  s  of  the  subject  were 
just.  Had  he  investigated  it  as  thoroughly,  at  that  important 
crisis,  as  he  did  afterwards,  there  can  be  but  little  doubt  that,  in  the 


■LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  125 

high  state  of  religions  feeling  then  prevalent,  the  church  would 
readily  have  changed  its  practice,  or  that  all  the  candidates  for 
admission,  would  have  consented  to  a  thorough  examination.  Had 
sucii  indeed  been  the  issue,  Mr.  Edwards  himself  would  have  been 
saved  from  many  trials,  and  the  church  and  people  of  Northamp- 
ton from  great  and  incalculable  evils:  still  it  may  well  be  doubted, 
whether  the  actual  result  has  not  occasioned  a  far  greater  amount 
of  good,  to  the  church  at  large. 

In  the  latter  part  of  May,  1735,  this  great  work  of  the  Spirit  of 
God,  began  obviously  to  decline,  and  the  instances  of  conversion 
to  be  less  numerous,  both  at  Northampton  and  in  the  neighbouring 
villages.  One  principal  cause  of  this  declension,  is  undoubtedly 
to  be  found  in  the  fact,  that  in  all  these  places,  both  among  minis- 
ters and  private  christians,  the  physical  excitement  had  been  greater, 
than  the  human  constitution  can,  for  a  long  period,  endure.  No- 
thing, it  should  be  remembered,  exhausts  the  strength  and  the  ani- 
mal spirits,  hke  feeling.  One  hour  of  intense  joy,  or  of  intense 
sorrow,  will  more  entirely  prostrate  the  frame,  than  weeks  of  close 
study.  Li  revivals  of  religion,  as  they  have  hitherto  appeared,  the 
nerves  of  the  whole  man — of  body,  mind  and  heart, — are  kept  con- 
tinually on  the  stretch,  from  month  to  month  ;  until  at  length  they 
are  relaxed,  and  become  non-elastic  :  and  then  all  feeling  and 
energ}',  of  every  kind,  is  gone.  Another  reason  is  undoubtedly 
to  be  found  in  tlie  fact,  that  those,  who  had  so  long  ^^^tnessed  this 
remarkable  work  of  God,  without  renouncing  their  sins,  had  at 
length  become  hardened  and  hopeless,  in  their  impenitence.  Mr. 
Edwards  also  attributes  it,  in  part,  to  two  striking  events  of  Provi- 
dence, at  Northampton,  and  to  two  remarkable  instances  of  enthu- 
siastic delusion,  in  two  of  the  neighbouring  villages. 

He  mentions  also,  a  third  cause,  and  one  far  more  powerful,  and 
more  extensive  in  its  influence,  than  either  of  the  two  last.  This 
was  an  Ecclesiastical  Controversy,  growing  out  of  the  settlement  of 
a  minister  at  Springfield,  in  which  he  himself  was  ultimately  com- 
pelled, though  with  great  reluctance,  to  take  a  part ;  which  agita- 
ted, not  only  the  county  of  Hampshire,  but  the  more  remote 
churches  of  the  Province.  Of  this,  a  bare  mention  would  alone 
be  necessary,  did  we  not  find  hi»  connection  with  it  referred  to,  at 
a  subsequent  and  most  interesting  period  of  his  hfe. 

In  1735,  the  first  church  in  Springfield,  having  elected  a  pastor, 
invited  the  churches  in  the  soutliern  part  of  Hampshire,  by  their 
pastors  and  delegates  in  Council,  to  proceed  to  his  ordination. 
The  Council,  when  convened,  after  examining  the  qualifications  of 
the  Candidate,  refused  to  ordain  him,  and  assigned  two  reasons  for 
this  refusal — youthful  immorality,  and  anti-scriptural  tenets.  Mr. 
Edwards,  though  invited  to  this  Council,  for  some  reason  or  other, 
was  not  present.  The  Church,  in  August,  called  a  second  Coun- 
cil, consisting  chiefly  of  ministers  and  delegates  from  the  Churche;: 


J26  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

in  Boston,  wliich,  without  delay,  proceeded  to  the  ordination. 
The  First  Council,  finding  their  own  measures  thus  openly  im- 
peached, published  a  pamphlet  entitled,  "  A  Narrative  and  De- 
fence of  the  proceedings  of  the  ministers  of  Hampshire,"  etc.  jus- 
tifying their  own  conduct,  and  censuring  that  of  their  brethren. 
The  Second  Council  defended  themselves  in  a  pamphlet  entitled, 
"  An  Answer  to  the  Hampshire  Narrative."  INIr.  Edwards,  at  the 
request  of  the  First  Council,  and  particularly  of  his  uncle,  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Williams,  of  Hatfield,  who  was  its  moderator,  wrote  a  Reply 
to  this,  entided,  "  A  Letter  to  the  Author  of  the  pamphlet  called, 
An  Answer  to  the  Hampshire  Narrative." — This  Reply,  \iewed 
either  as  an  argument  upon  the  law  and  the  facts,  or  as  an  answer 
to  his  opponents,  is  an  exhibition  of  logic,  not  often  met  with  in 
similar  discussions,  and  appears  to  have  concluded  the  controversy. 
This  series  of  events  occurred,  during  the  revival  of  religion  in  die 
churches  of  that  county,  and  was  thought,  by  too  powerfully  en- 
grossing the  attention,  both  of  ministers  and  people,  in  various 
places,  to  have  hastened  its  conclusion.  And  there  can  be  no 
doubt,  that  this  opinion  was  correct.  A  Revival  of  Religion  is  no- 
thing but  the  immediate  result  of  an  uncommon  Attention,  on  the 
part  of  a  church  and  congregation,  to  the  Truth  of  God : — particu- 
larly to  the  great  truths,  which  disclose  the  worth  of  the  soul,  and 
the  only  way  in  which  it  can  be  saved.  Whenever,  and  wherever, 
the  members  of  a  church  pay  the  due  attention  to  these  truths,  by 
giving  them  their  proper  influence  on  their  hearts,  religion  revives 
immediately  in  their  affections  and  their  conduct ;  and  when  the 
impenitent  pay  such  attention,  the  kingdom  of  heaven  immediately 
"sufFereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by  force."  The  only 
effectual  way  to  put  a  stop  to  such  a  work  of  grace,  is,  therefore, 
to  divert  the  attention  of  christians  and  sinners  from  those  truths, 
which  bear  immediately  on  the  work  of  salvation. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  summer,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards  were 
called  to  mourn  die  death  of  another  of  his  sisters  named  Lucy, 
the  youngest  but  one,  of  his  father's  children ;  who  was  bom  in 
1715,  and  died  August  21,  1736,*  at  the  age  of  21.  After  her, 
they  named  their  fifth  child,  who  was  born  August  31,  of  the  same 
year. 

It  w^as  a  pecuharly  favourable  dispensation  of  Providence,  diat, 
amid  the  multiplied  cares  and  labours  of  this  period,  the  health  of 
]Mr.  Edwards  was  graciously  preserved.  A  revival  of  religion  to 
a  clergyman,  like  the  period  of  harvest  to  the  husbandman,  is  the 
most  busy  and  the  most  exhausting  of  all  seasons ;  and  during  the 
progress  of  that,  which  he  had  just  witnessed,  not  only  was  the 
whole  time  of  Mr.  Edwards  fully  occupied,  but  all  the  powers  of 

*  I  have  discovered  no    papers  or  letters  of  the  family,  of  a  date  near  tliis, 
and  no  mention  of  this  young  lady,  except  on  her  tombstone.  '^ 


LlFEl    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  I2T 

his  mind  were  laboriously  employed,  and  all  the  feelings  of  his^ 
heart  kept,  from  month  to  month,  in  high  and  powerful  excitement. 
In  addition  to  his  ordinary  duties  as  a  teacher  and  pastoi,  his  pub- 
lic lectures  were  now  multiplied,  private  lectures  were  weekly  ap- 
pointed in  different  parts  of  the  town,  and  his  study  was  almost 
daily  thronged  by  multitudes,  looking  to  him  as  their  spiritual  guide. 
From  the  adjacent  \dllages,  also,  great  numbers  resorted  to  him, 
for  the  same  purpose,  ha\ing  the  highest  confidence  in  his  wisdom 
and  experience;  and  numerous  clergymen  from  various  parts  of 
the  countiy,  came  to  his  house,  to  witness  the  triumphs  of  divine 
grace,  and  to  gain,  from  his  counsels  and  his  measures,  more  just 
conceptions  of  the  best  manner  of  discharging  the  highest  and  most 
sacred  duties  of  their  office. 

In  the  midst  of  these  complicated  labours,  as  well  as  at  all  times, 
he  found  at  home  one,  who  was  in  every  sense  a  help  meet  for  him; 
one  who  made  their  common  dwelling  the  abode  of  order  and 
neatness,  of  peace  and  comfort,  of  harmony  and  love,  to  all  its  in- 
mates, and  of  kindness  and  hospitality  to  the  friend,  the  visitant 
and  the  stranger.  "  While  she  uniformly  paid  a  becoming  defer- 
ence to  her  husband,  and  treated  him  with  entire  respect,  she 
spared  no  pains  in  conforming  to  his  inclinations,  and  rendering 
every  tiling  in  the  fainily  agreeable  and  pleasant :  accounting  it 
her  greatest  glory,  and  that  wherein  she  could  best  serve  God  and 
her  generation,  to  be  the  means,  in  this  way,  of  promoting  his  use- 
fulness and  happiness.  As  he  was  of  a  weakly,  infirm  constitution. 
and  w^as  necessarily  peculiarly  exact  in  his  diet,  she  was  a  tender 
nurse  to  him,  cheerfully  attending  upon  him  at  all  times,  and  in  all 
things  ministering  to  his  comfort.  And  no  person  of  discernment 
could  be  conversant  in  the  family,  without  observing,  and  admir- 
ing, the  perfect  harmony,  and  mutual  love  and  esteem,  that  sub- 
sisted between  them.  At  the  same  time,  when  she  herself  laboured 
under  bodily  disorders  and  j^ains,  which  was  not  unfrequently  the 
case,  instead  of  troubling  those  around  her  with  her  complaints, 
and  wearing  a  sour  or  dejected  countenance,  as  if  out  of  humour 
with  every  body,  and  every  thing  around  her,  because  she  was  dis- 
regarded and  neglected ;  she  was  accustomed  to  bear  up  under 
them,  not  only  with  patience,  but  with  cheerfulness  and  good 
humour." 

Devoted  as  Mr.  Edwards  was  to  study,  and  to  the  duties  of  liig 
profession,  it  w^as  necessary  for  him  at  all  times,  but  especially  in  a 
season  like  this,  of  multiplied  toils  and  anxieties,  to  be  reheved  from 
attention  to  all  secular  concerns  ;  and  it  was  a  most  happy  circum- 
stance, that  he  could  trust  every  thing  of  this  nature  to  the  care  of 
Mrs.  Edw^ards,  with  entire  safety,  and  with  undoubting  confidence, 
*'  She  was  a  most  judicious  and  faithful  mistress  of  a  family,  habit- 
ually industrious,  a  sound  economist,  managing  her  household  af- 
fairs with  diligence  and  discretion.  She  was  conscientiously  careful. 


128  i^itiL  uF  i'iiesij)i:nt  e/jWards. 

that  nothing  should  be  wasted  and  lost  ;  and  often,  when  she  her- 
self took  care  to  save  any  thing  of  trifling  value,  or  directed  her 
children  or  others  to  do  so,  or  when  she  saw  them  waste  any  thing, 
she  would  repeat  the  words  of  our  Saviour — "  that  nothing  be 
LOST  ;"  v/hich  words,  she  said  she  often  thought  of,  as  containing  a 
maxim  worth  remembering,  especially  when  considered  as  the  rea- 
son alleged  by  Christy  why  his  disciples  should  gather  up  the  frag- 
ments of  that  bread,  which  he  had  just  before  created  with  a  ivorcl. 
She  took  almost  the  whole  direction  of  the  temporal  affairs  of  the 
family,  without  doors  and  within,  managing  them  with  great  wisdom 
and  prudence,  as  well  as  cheerfulness  ;  and  in  this,  was  particular- 
ly suited  to  the  disposition,  as  well  as  the  habits  and  necessities,  of 
lier  husband,  who  chose  to  have  no  care,  if  possible,  of  any  world*- 
ly  business. 

But  there  are  other  duties,  of  a  still  more  tender  and  difficult  na- 
ture, which  none  but  a  parent  can  adequately  perform  ;  and  it  was" 
an  unspeakable  privilege  to  IMr.  Edwards,  now  surrounded  by  a 
young  and  growing  family,  that  when  his  duties  to  his  people,  es- 
pecially in  seasons  hke  this,  necessarily  occupied  his  whole  atten^ 
tion,  he  could  safely  commit  his  children  to  the  wisdom  and  piety^ 
the  love  and  faithfulness,  of  their  mother.  Her  \iews  of  the  re- 
sponsibility of  parents,  were  large  and  comprehensive.  "She 
thought  that,  as  a  parent,  she  had  great  and  important  duties  to  do 
towards  her  children,  before  they  were  capable  of  government  and 
instruction.  For  them,  she  constantly  and  earnestly  prayed,  and 
bore  them  on  her  heart  before  God,  in  all  her  secret  and  most  sol- 
emn addresses  to  him  ;  and  that,  even  before  they  were  born.  The 
prospect  of  her  becoming  the  mother  of  a  rational  immortal  creature, 
which  came  into  existence  in  an  undone  and  infinitely  dreadful 
state,  was  sufficient  to  lead  her  to  bow  before  God  daily,  for  his 
blessing  on  it — even  redemption  and  eternal  hfe  by  Jesus  Christ. 
So  that,  through  all  the  pain,  labour  and  sorrow,  which  attended 
her  being  the  mother  of  children,  she  was  in  travail  for  them,  that 
they  might  be  born  of  God  " 

She  regularly  prayed  with  her  children,  from  a  very  early  peri- 
od, and,  as  there  is  the  best  reason  to  believe,  with  great  earnest- 
ness and  importunity.  Being  thoroughly  sensible  that,  in  many 
respects,  the  chief  care  of  forming  children  by  government  and  in- 
struction, naturally  lies  on  mothers,  as  they  are  most  whh  their  chil- 
dren, at  an  age  when  they  commonly  receive  impressions  that  are 
permanent,  and  have  great  influence  in  forming  the  character  for 
life,  she  was  very  careful  to  do  her  part  in  this  important  business. 
When  she  foresaw,  or  met  with,  any  special  difficulty  in  this  matter, 
she  was  wont  to  apply  to  her  husband,  for  advice  and  assistance  f 
and  on  such  occasions,  they  would  botli  attend  to  it,  as  a  matter  of 
the  utmost- importance.  She  had  an  excellent  way  of  governing 
her   children ;  she  knew   how   to  make  tiiem    regard    and  obey 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  129 

Her  cheerfully,  without  loud  angry  words,  much  less  heavy  blows. 
She  seldom  punished  them  ;  and  in  speaking  to  them,  used  gende 
and  pleasant  w^ords.  If  any  correction  was  necessary,  she  did  not 
administer  it  in  a  passion  ;  and  when  she  had  occasion  to  reprove 
and  rebuke,  she  would  do  it  in  few  words,  without  warmth  and 
noise,  and  with  all  calmness  and  gentleness  of  mind.  In  her  direc- 
tions and  reproofs  in  matters  of  importance,  she  would  address  her- 
self to  the  reason  of  her  children,  that  they  might  not  only  know 
her  inclination  and  will,  but  at  the  same  time  be  convinced  of  the 
reasonableness  of  it.  She  had  need  to  speak  but  once  ;  she  was 
cheerfully  obeyed  :  murmuring  and  answering  again,  were  not 
known  among  them.  In  their  manners,  they  were  uncommonly 
respectful  to  their  parents.  When  their  parents  came  into  the 
room,  they  all  rose  instinctively  from  their  seats,  and  never  resum- 
ed them  until  their  parents  were  seated ;  and  when  either  parent 
was  speaking,  no  matter  with  whom  they  had  been  conversing, 
they  were  all  immediately  silent  and  attentive.  The  kind  and  gen- 
tle ti'eatment  tliey  received  from  their  mother,  while  she  strictly 
and  punctihously  maintained  her  parental  authority,  seemed  natu- 
rally to  beget  and  promote  a  fiHal  respect  and  affection,  and  to 
lead  them  to  a  mild  tender  treatment  of  each  other.  Quarrelling 
and  contention,  which  too  frequently  take  place  among  children, 
were  in  her  family  wholly  unknow^i.  She  carefully  observed  the 
first  appearance  of  resentment  and  ill  will  in  her  young  children, 
towards  any  person  wdiatever,  and  did  not  connive  at  it,  as  many 
who  have  the  care  of  children  do,  but  was  careful  to  show  her  dis- 
pleasure, and  suppress  it  to  the  utmost ;  yet,  not  by  angry,  wrath- 
ful words,  wiiich  often  provoke  children  to  wTath,  and  stir  up  their 
irascible  passions,  rather  than  abate  them.  Her  system  of  disci- 
pline, was  begun  at  a  very  early  age,  and  it  was  her  rule,  to  resist 
the  first,  as  well  as  every  subsequent  exhibition  of  temper  or  diso- 
"bedience  in  the  child,  however  young,  until  its  will  was  brought  into 
submission  to  the  will  of  its  parents  :  wisely  reflecting,  that  until  a 
child  will  obey  his  parents,  he  can  never  be  brought  to  obey  God. 

Fond  as  Mr.  Edwards  was  of  welcoming  the  friend  and  the 
stranger,  and  much  as  his  house  was  a  favourite  place  of  resort,  to 
gentlemen  both  of  the  clergy  and  \mty ;  it  was  absolutely  necessa- 
ry, at  all  times,  and  pecuharly  so  in  seasons  of  religious  attention 
like  this,  that  some  one,  well  knowing  how  to  perform  the  rites  of 
hospitality,  and  to  pay  all  the  civilities  and  charities  of  life,  should 
relieve  him  from  these  attentions,  during  those  hours  which  were 
coiisecrated  to  his  professional  duties ;  and  here  also,  he  could 
most  advantageously  avail  himself  of  the  assistance  of  Mrs.  Ed- 
wards. Educated  in  the  midst  of  pohshed  Hfe,  familiar  from 
childhood  with  the  rules  of  decorum  and  good  breeding,  affable 
and  easy  in  her  manners,  and  governed  by  the  feelings  of  liberality 
and  benevolence,   she  was  remarkable  for  her  kindness  to  her 

Vol.  I.  17 


13^  LIFE    Oi"    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

friends,  and  to  the  visitants  who  resorted  to  Mr.  Edwards  ;  sparing 
no  pains  to  make  them  welcome,  and  to  provide  for  their  conven- 
ience and  comfort.  She  was  also  pecuharly  kind  to  strangers, 
who  came  to  her  house.  By  her  sweet  and  winning  manners,  and 
ready  conversation,  she  soon  became  acquainted  with  them,  and 
brought  them  to  feel  acquainted  with  herself;  and  showed  such 
concern  for  their  comfort,  and  so  kindly  offered  what  she  thought 
they  needed,  that  while  her  friendly  attentions  discovered  at  once 
that  she  knew  the  feelings  of  a  stranger,  they  also  made  their  way 
directly  to  his  heart,  and  gaining  his  confidence,  led  him  immedi- 
ately to  feel  as  if  he  were  at  home,  in  the  midst  of  near  and  affec- 
tionate friends. 

*'  She  made  it  her  rule,  to  speak  well  of  all,  so  far  as  she  could 
with  truth,  and  justice  to  herself  and  others.  She  was  not  wont  to 
dwell  with  delight  on  the  imperfections  and  failings  of  any ;  and 
when  she  heard  persons  speaking  ill  of  others,  she  would  say  what 
she  thought  she  could,  with  truth  and  justice,  in  their  excuse,  or 
divert  the  obloquy,  by  mentioning  those  things,  that  were  commend- 
able in  them.  Thus  she  was  tender  of  every  one's  character,  even 
of  those  who  injured  and  spoke  evil  of  her ;  and  carefully  guard- 
ed against  the  too  common  vice,  of  e\dl  speaking  and  backbiting. 
She  could  bear  injuries  and  reproach,  with  great  calmness,  without 
any  disposition  to  render  evil  for  evil ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  was 
ready  to  pity  and  forgive  those,  who  appeared  to  be  her  enemies." 
This  course  of  conduct,  steadily  pursued,  secured,  in  an  unusual 
degree,  the  affection  and  confidence  of  those  who  knew  her. 

She  proved  also,  an  invaluable  auxiliary  to  Mr.  Edwards,  in  the 
duties  of  his  profession,  not  only  by  her  excellent  example,  but  by 
her  active  efforts  in  doing  good.  "  Slie  was,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins, 
"  eminent  for  her  piety,  and  for  experimental  religion.  Religious 
conversation  was  her  delight ;  and,  as  far  as  propriety  permitted, 
she  promoted  it  in  all  companies.  Her  religious  conversation  show- 
ed at  once,  her  clear  comprehension  of  spiritual  and  divine  things, 
and  the  deep  impression  which  they  had  made  upon  her  mind."  It 
was  not  merely  conversation  about  religion — about  its  truths,  or  du- 
ties, or  its  actual  state — its  doctrines  or  triumphs — or  the  character 
and  conduct  of  its  friends  and  ministers  :  it  was  religion  itself ; — 
that  supreme  love  to  God,  to  his  kingdom  and  his  glory,  which, 
abounding  in  the  heart,  flows  forth  spontaneously,  in  the  daily  con- 
versation and  the  daily  life. 

The  friends  of  vital  Christianity,  those  wlio  delighted  in  its  great 
and  essential  truths,  who  showed  its  practical  influence  on  their 
lives,  and  who  were  most  engaged  in  promotmg  its  prosperity,  were 
her  chosen  friends  and  intimates.  With  such  persons,  she  would 
converse  freely  and  confidentially,  telling  them  of  the  exercises  of 
her  own  heart,  and  the  happiness  she  had  experienced  in  a  fife  of 
religion,  for  their  encom-agement  in  the  cliristiah  course.     Her 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  131 

hiind  appeared  to  attend  to  spiritual  and  divine  things  constantly, 
on  all  occasions,  and  in  every  condition  and  business  of  life.  Se- 
cret prayer  was  her  uniform  practice,  and  appeared  to  be  the  source 
of  daily  enjoyment.  She  was  a  constant  attendant  on  public  wor- 
ship, and  always  exhibited  the  deepest  solemnity  and  reverence,  in 
the  liouse  of  God.  She  always  prized  highly  the  privilege  of  so- 
cial worship,  not  only  in  the  family,  but  in  the  private  meetings  of 
christians.  Such  meetings,  on  the  part  of  females  only^  for  prayer 
and  religious  conversation,  have  at  times  been  objected  to,  as,  bodi 
in  their  nature  and  results,  inconsistent  with  the  true  delicacy  of 
the  sex.  Her  own  judgment,  formed  deliberately,  and  in  coinci- 
dence with  that  of  her  husband,  was  in  favour  of  these  meetings ; 
and  accordingly,  she  regularly  encouraged  and  promoted  them, 
during  the  Revival  of  Religion  of  which  we  have  been  speaking, 
as  well  as  at  other  thiies ;  attending  on  them  herself,  and  not  de- 
clining to  take  her  proper  share  in  the  performance  of  their  vari- 
ous duties.  In  this  way,  she  exerted  an  important  influence  among 
her  own  sex,  and  over  the  young  :  an  influence  always  salutary  in 
promoting  union,  ardour  and  spiritual-mindedness,  but  especially 
powerful,  in  seasons  of  uncommon  attention  to  religion. 

One  circumstance,  which  served  essentially  to  extend  and  in- 
crease tliis  influence,  was  the  fact,  that  her  religion  had  nothing 
gloomy  or  forbidding  in  its  character.  IJnusuai  as  it  was  in  de- 
gree, it  was  eminently  the  religion  of  joy.  On  the  testimony  of 
Mr.  Edw^ards,  it  possessed  this  character,  even  when  she  was  a  lit- 
tle child  of  about  five  or  six  years  of  age,  as  well  as  customarily  in 
after  life.  At  the  commencement  of  this  remarkable  work  of  2;race, 
she  appears  to  have  dedicated  herself  anew  to  God,  with  more  en- 
tire devotion  of  heart  to  his  service  and  glory,  than  she  had  ever 
been  conscious  of  before ;  and  during  its  progress,  as  well  as  af- 
terwards, she  experienced  a  degree  of  religious  enjoyment,  not 
previously  known  to  herself,  and  not  often  vouchsafed  to  others. 
But  on  this  subject,  we  may  have  occasion  to  speak  more  fully 
hereafter. 

What,  during  this  interesting  work  of  grace,  w^as  the  state  of  Mr. 
Edwards's  own  feelings  on  the  subject  of  religion,  must  be  gather- 
ed chiefly  from  his  sermons  wTitten  at  the  time,  from  the  "  Narra- 
tive of  Surprising  Conversions,"  and  from  that  high  character  for 
moral  excellence,  which  he  enjoyed  not  only  among  his  own  peo- 
ple, but  among  the  clergy.  Yet  the  remainder  of  his  Personal 
Narrative,  extending  from  his  settlement,  until  a  date  somewhat 
later  than  this,  and  of  course  including  this  period,  presents  a  gen- 
eral view  of  the  subject,  in  a  high  degree  interesting,  and  most  pro- 
per to  be  inserted  here. 

REMAINDER  OF  PERSONAL  NARRATIVE. 

"  Since  I  came  to  Northampton,  I  have  often  had  sweet  com- 
placency in  God^  in  views  of  his  glorious  perfections,  and  of  the 


r^2  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARD.S.. 

excellency  of  Jesus  Christ.  God  has  appeared  to  me  a  glorious 
and  lovely  Being,  chiefly  on  account  of  his  holiness.  The  holi- 
ness of  God  has  always  appeared  to  me  the  most  lovely  of  all  his 
attributes.  The  doctrines  of  God's  absolute  sovereignty,  and  free 
gi'ace,  in  shewing  mercy  to  whom  he  would  shew  mercy ;  and 
man's  absolute  dependence  on  the  operations  of  God's  Holy  Spirit, 
have  very  often  appeared  to  me  as  sweet  and  glorious  doctrines. 
These  doctrines  have  been  much  my  delight.  God's  sovereignty 
has  ever  appeared  to  me,  a  great  part  of  his  glory.  It  has  often 
been  my  delight  to  approach  God,  and  adore  him  as  a  sovereign 
God,  and  ask  sovereign  mercy  of  him. 

"  1  have  loved  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  they  have  been  to 
my  soul  like  green  pastures.  The  gospel  has  seemed  to  me  the 
richest  treasure ;  the  treasure  that  I  have  most  desired,  and  longed 
that  it  might  dwell  richly  in  me.  The  way  of  salvation  by  Christ, 
has  appeared,  in  a  general  way,  glorious  and  excellent,  most  pleas- 
ant and  most  beautiful.  It  has  often  seemed  to  me,  that  it  would, 
in  a  great  measure,  spoil  heaven,  to  receive  it  in  any  other  way. 
That  text  has  often  been  affecting  and  delightful  to  me,  Isa.  xxxii. 
2,  A  man  shall  be  an  hiding  place  from  the  wind,  and  a  covert 
from  the  tempest,  ^'•c, 

"  It  has  often  appeared  to  me  delightful,  to  be  united  to  Christ ; 
to  have  him  for  my  head,  and  to  be  a  member  of  his  body  ;  also  to 
have  Christ  for  my  teacher  and  prophet.  I  very  often  think  \^^th 
sweetness,  and  longings,  and  pantings  of  soul,  of  being  a  little 
child,  taknig  hold  of  Christ,  to  be  led  by  him  through  the  wilder- 
ness of  this  world.  That  text,  ]\Iatt.  xviii.  3,  has  often  been  sweet 
to  me.  Except  ye  he  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  <^c. 
I  love  to  think  of  coming  to  Christ,  to  receive  salvation  of  him, 
poor  in  spirit,  and  quite  empty  of  self,  humbly  exalting  him  alone ; 
cut  off  entirely  from  my  own  root,  in  order  to  grow  into,  and  out  of 
Christ :  to  have  God  in  Christ  to  be  all  in  all ;  and  to  live  by  faith 
on  the  Son  of  God,  a  life  of  humble,  unfeigned  confidence  in  him. 
That  Scripture  has  often  been  sweet  to  me,  Psal.  cxv.  1,  JS'ot  unto 
us,  O  Lord,  not  unto  ks,  but  unto  thy  name  give  glory,  for  thy 
mercy,  and  for  thy  truths  sake.  And  those  words  of  Christ,  Luke 
X.  21,  In  that  hour  Jesus  rejoiced  in  spirit,  and  said,  I  thank  thee, 
O  Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou  hast  hid  these 
things  from  the  wise  and  prudent,  and  hast  revealed  them  unto 
-babes :  even  so.  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight.  That 
sovereignty  of  God,  W'hich  Christ  rejoiced  in,  seemed  to  rae  worthy 
of  such  joy ;  and  that  rejoicing  seemed  to  show  the  excellency  of 
Christ,  and  of  what  spirit  he  was. 

*'  Sometimes,  only  mentioning  a  single  word,  caused  my  heart 
to  burn  within  me  ;  or  only  seeing  the  name  of  Christ,  or  the  name 
of  some  attribute  of  God.  And  God  has  appeared  glorious  to  me, 
on  account  of  the  Trinity.     It  has  made  n^e  have  exalting  thoughts 


LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  133 

of  God,  that  he  subsists  in  three  persons  ;  Father,  Son,  and  Holy- 
Ghost.  The  sweetest  joys  and  delights  I  have  experienced,  have, 
not  been  those  that  have  arisen  from  a  hope  of  my  ow  n  good  es- 
tate ;  but  in  a  direct  \iew  of  the  glorious  things  of  the  gospel. 
When  I  enjoy  this  sweetness,  it  seems  to  carry  me  above  the 
thoughts  of  my  own  estate  ;  it  seems,  at  such  times,  a  loss  that  I 
cannot  bear,  to  take  off  my  eye  from  the  glorious,  pleasant  object 
1  behold  without  me,  to  turn  my  eye  in  upon  myself,  and  my  own 
good  estate. 

"My  heart  has  been  much  on  the  advancement  of  Christ's 
kingdom  in  the  world.  The  histories  of  the  past  advancement  of 
Christ's  kingdom  have  been  sweet  to  me.  When  I  have  read 
histories  of  past  ages,  the  pleasantest  thing,  in  all  my  reading,  has 
been,  to  read  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ  being  promoted.  And 
when  I  have  expected,  in  my  reading,  to  come  to  any  such  thing, 
I  have  rejoiced  in  the  prospect,  all  the  way  as  I  read.  And  my 
mind  has  been  much  entertained  and  delighted  with  the  scripture 
promises  and  prophecies,  which  relate  to  the  future  glorious  ad- 
vancement of  Christ's  kingdom  upon  earth. 

"  I  have  sometimes  had  a  sense  of  the  excellent  fulness  of  Christ, 
and  his  meetness  and  suitableness  as  a  Saviour ;  whereby  he  ha$ 
appeared  to  me,  far  above  all,  the  chief  of  ten  thousands.  His 
blood  and  atonement  have  appeared  sweet,  and  his  righteousness 
sweet;  which  was  always  accompanied  with  ardency  of  spirit ;  and 
imvard  strugglings  and  breathings,  and  groanings  that  cannot  be 
uttered,  to  be  emptied  of  myself,  and  swallowed  up  in  Christ. 

"  Once,  as  I  rode  out  into  the  woods  for  my  health,  in  1737, 
having  alighted  from  my  horse  in  a  retired  place,  as  my  manner 
commonly  has  been,  to  w^alk  for  divine  contemplation  and  prayer, 
I  liad  a  view,  that  for  me  was  extraordinary,  of  the  glory  of  the 
Son  of  God,  as  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  and  his  w^onder- 
ful,  great,  full,  pure  and  sw^eet  grace  and  love,  and  meek  and  gen- 
tle condescension.  This  grace  that  appeared  so  calm  and  sweet, 
appeared  also  great  above  the  heavens.  The  person  of  Christ  ap- 
peared ineffably  excellent,  with  an  excellency  great  enough  to 
swallow  up  all  thought  and  conception — ^which  continued,  as  near 
as  I  can  judge,  about  an  hour  ;  which  kept  me  the  greater  part  of 
the  time,  in  a  flood  of  tears,  and  weeping  aloud.  I  felt  an  ardency 
of  soul  to  be,  what  I  know  not  otherwise  how  to  express,  emptied 
and  annihilated  ;  to  lie  in  the  dust,  and  to  be  full  of  Christ  alone  ; 
to  love  him  with  a  holy  and  pure  love ;  to  trust  in  him ;  to  live  upon 
him  ;  to  serve  and  follow  him  ;  and  to  be  perfectly  sanctified  and 
made  pure,  with  a  divine  and  heavenly  purity.  I  have,  several 
other  times,  had  views  very  much  of  the  same  nature,  and  which 
have  had  the  same  effects. 

"  I  have,  many  times,  had  a  sense  of  the  glory  of  the  Third  Per- 
son in  the  Trinity,  in  his  office  of  Sanctifier ;  in  his  holy  operations,. 


134  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

communicating  divine  light  and  life  to  the  soul.  God  in  the  com- 
munications of  his  holy  spirit,  has  appeared  as  an  infinite  fountain 
of  divine  glory  and  sweetness ;  being  full  and  sufficient  to  fill  ana 
satisfy  the  soul;  pouring  forth  itself  in  sweet  communications  ;  like 
the  sun  in  its  glory,  sweetly  and  pleasantly  difRising  light  and  hfe. 
And  I  have  sometimes  had  an  affecting  sense  of  the  excellency 
of  the  word  of  God  as  a  word  of  life ;  as  the  Hght  of  life ;  a  sweet, 
excellent,  life-giving  word ;  accompanied  with  a  thirsting  after  that 
word,  that  it  might  dwell  richly  in  my  heart. 

"  Often,  since  I  lived  in  this  town,  I  have  had  very  affecting 
views  of  my  own  sinfulness  and  vileness ;  very  frequently  to  such 
a  degree,  as  to  hold  me  in  a  kind  of  loud  weeping,  sometimes  for 
a  considerable  time  together ;  so  that  I  have  often  been  forced  to 
shut  myself  up.  I  have  had  a  vastly  greater  sense  of  my  own 
wickedness,  and  the  badness  of  my  heart,  than  ever  I  had  before 
my  conversion.*  It  has  often  aj^peared  to  me,  that  if  God  should 
mark  iniquity  against  me,  I  should  appear  the  very  worst  of  all 
mankind ;  of  all  that  have  been,  since  the  beginning  of  the  world, 
to  tliis  time  :  and  that  I  should  have  by  far  the  lowest  place  in  hell. 
When  others,  that  have  come  to  talk  with  me  about  their  soul-con- 
cerns, have  expressed  the  sense  they  have  had  of  their  own  wick- 
edness, by  saying,  that  it  seemed  to  them,  that  they  were  as  bad 
as  the  devil  himself;  I  tliought  their  expressions  seemed  exceed- 
ing faint  and  feeble,  to  represent  my  wickedness. 

"  My  wickedness,  as  I  am  in  myself,  has  long  appeared  to  me 
perfectly  ineffable,  and  swallo^^ing  up  all  thought  and  imagination ; 
like  an  infinite  deluge,  or  mountains  over  my  head.  I  know  not 
how  to  express  better  what  my  sins  appear  to  me  to  be,  than  by 
heaping  infinite  upon  infinite,  and  multiplying  infinite  by  infinite. 
Very  often,  for  these  many  years,  these  expressions  are  in  my 
mind,  and  in  my  mouth,  "  Infinite  upon  infi.nite — Infinite  upon  in- 
finite !"  When  I  look  into  my  heart,  and  take  a  view  of  my  wick- 
edness, it  looks  like  an  abyss,  infinitely  deeper  than  hell.  And  it 
appears  to  me,  tliat  were  it  not  for  free  grace,  exalted  and  raised 
up  to  the  infinite  height  of  all  the  fulness  and  glory  of  the  great  Je- 
hovah, and  the  arm  of  his  power  and  grace  stretched  forth  in  all 
the  majesty  of  his  power,  and  in  all  the  glory  of  his  sovereignty,  I, 

*  Our  author  does  not  say,  that  he  had  more  wickedness,  and  badness  of 
heart,  since  his  conversion,  than  he  had  before  ;  but  that  he  had  a  greater  sense 
thereof.  Thus  a  bhnd  man  may  have  his  garden  full  of  noxious  weeds,  and 
yet  not  see  or  be  sensible  of  them.  But  should  the  garden  be  in  great  part, 
cleared  of  these,  and  furnished  with  man}''  beautiful  and  salutary  plants  ;  and 
supposing  the  owner  now  to  have  the  power  of  discriminating  objects  of  sight; 
in  this  case,  he  would  have  less,  but  would  see  and  have  a  sense  of  more.  And 
thus  it  v,-as  that  St.  Paul,  though  greatly  freed  from  sin,  yet  saw  and  felt  him- 
self as  '-the  chief  of  sinners,"  To  which  may  be  added,  that  the  better  the 
organ,  and  clearer  the  light  may  be,  the  stronger  will  be  the  sense  excited  by 
5in  or  holiness. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  135 

should  appear  sunk  down  in  my  sins  below  hell  itself;  far  beyond 
the  sight  of  every  thing,  but  the  eye  of  sovereign  grace,  that  can 
pierce  even  down  to  such  a  depth.  And  yet,  it  seems  to  me  that 
my  conviction  of  sin  is  exceedingly  small,  and  faint ;  it  is  enough  to 
amaze  me,  that  I  have  no  more  sense  of  my  sin.  I  know  certain- 
ly, that  I  have  very  little  sense  of  my  sinfulness.  When  I  have 
had  turns  of  weeping  and  crying  for  my  sins,  I  tliought  I  knew  at 
the  time,  that  my  repentance  was  nothing  to  my  sin. 

"  I  have  greatly  longed  of  late,  for  a  broken  heart,  and  to  li« 
low  before  God ;  and,  when  I  ask  for  humility,  1  cannot  bear  the 
thoughts  of  being  no  more  humble  than  other  christians.  It  seems 
to  me,  that  though  their  degrees  of  humility  may  be  suitable  for 
tliem,  yet  it  would  be  a  vile  self-exaltation  in  me,  not  to  be  the 
lowest  in  humility  of  all  mankind.  Others  speak  of  their  longing 
to  be  "  humbled  to  the  dust ;"  that  may  be  a  proper  expression 
for  them,  but  I  always  think  of  myself,  that  I  ought,  and  it  is  an 
expression  that  has  long  been  natural  for  me  to  use  in  prayer,  "  to 
lie  infinitely  low  before  God."  And  it  is  affecting  to  think,  how 
ignorant  I  was,  when  a  young  christian,  of  the  bottomless,  infinite 
depths  of  wickedness,  pride,  hypocrisy  and  deceit,  left  in  my  heart. 

"  I  have  a  much  greater  sense  of  my  universal,  exceeding  de- 
pendance  on  God's  grace  and  strength,  and  mere  good  pleasure, 
of  late,  than  I  used  formerly  to  have  ;  and  have  experienced  more 
of  an  abhorrence  of  my  own  righteousness.  The  very  thought  of 
any  joy  arising  in  me,  on  any  consideration  of  my  own  amiableness, 
performances,  or  experiences,  or  any  goodness  of  heart  or  life,  is 
nauseous  and  detestable  to  me.  And  yet,  I  am  greatly  afflicted 
with  a  proud  and  self-righteous  spirit,  much  more  sensibly  than  I 
used  to  be  formerly.  I  see  that  serpent  rising  and  putting  forth 
its  head  continually,  every  where,  all  around  me. 

"  Though  it  seems  to  me,  that  in  some  respects,  I  was  a  far  bet- 
ter christian,  for  two  or  three  years  after  my  first  conversion,  than  I 
am  now ;  and  lived  in  a  more  constant  delight  and  pleasure  ;  yet  of 
late  years,  I  have  had  a  more  full  and  constant  sense  of  the  abso- 
lute sovereignty  of  God,  and  a  delight  in  that  sovereignty ;  and 
have  had  more  of  a  sense  of  the  glory  of  Christ,  as  a  Mediator  re- 
vealed in  the  gospel.  On  one  Saturday  night,  in  particular,  I  had 
such  a  discovery  of  the  excellency  of  the  gospel  above  all  other 
doctrmes,  that  I  could  not  but  say  to  myself,  "  This  is  my  chosen 
light,  my  chosen  doctrine :  and  of  Christ,  "  Tliis  is  my  chosen 
Prophet."  It  appeared  sweet,  beyond  all  expression,  to  follow 
Christ,  and  to  be  taught,  and  enlightened,  and  instructed  by  him ; 
to  learn  of  him,  and  live  to  him.  Another  Saturday  night,  {Jan. 
1739)  I  had  such  a  sense,  how  sweet  and  blessed  a  tiring  it  was  to 
walk  in  the  way  of  duty ;  to  do  that  which  was  right  and  meet  to 
be  done,  and  agreeable  to  the  holy  mind  of  God ;  that  it  caused 
me  to  break  forth  into  a  kind  of  loud  weeping,  which  held  rae 


136  LIFE  OF  PKEsilUENT  EDWARDS, 

some  time,  so  that  I  was  forced  to  shut  myself  up,  and  fasten  the 
doors.  I  could  not  but,  as  it  w  ere,  cry  out,  "  How  happy  are  they^ 
who  do  that  which  is  right  in  the  sight  of  God  !  They  are  bles- 
sed indeed,  they  are  the  happy  ones  !"  I  had,  at  the  same  time, 
a  very  affecting  sense,  how  meet  and  suitable  it  w^as  that  God  should 
govern  the  w^orld,  and  order  all  things  according  to  his  own  plea- 
sure ;  and  I  rejoiced  in  it,  that  God  reigned,  and  that  his  will  was 
done." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Narrative  of  Surprising  Conversions. — His  vieivs  of  Revivals  of 
Religion.— Remarkable  Providence  at  JVorthampton. — "  Five 
Discourses.''^ — Mr.  Bellamy  a  resident  of  his  family. — His- 
tory of  Redemption. — Extra-Parochial  labours  of  Mr.  Ed- 
ivards. — Sermon  at  Enfield. — Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Rev.  W, 
Williams. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  1735,  Mr.  Edwards,  in  answer  to  a  letter 
from  the  Rev.  Dr.  Colman,  of  Boston,  wrote  a  succinct  account 
of  the  work  of  Divine  grace  at  Northampton ;  which,  being  pub- 
lished by  him,  and  forwarded  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Watts  and  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Guyse,  in  London,  those  gentlemen  discovered  so  much  inte- 
rest in  the  facts  recited,  detailing  them  on  several  occasions  before 
large  assemblies,  that  the  author,  at  the  request  of  his  correspon- 
dent, was  induced  to  prepare  a  much  fuller  statement,  in  a  letter 
to  the  same  gentleman,  bearing  date,  Nov.  6,  173G.  This  was 
published  in  London,  under  the  title  of  "  Narrative  of  Surprising 
Conversions,"  with  an  Introduction  by  Dr.  Watts  and  Dr.  Guyse  ; 
and  was  read  very  extensively,  and  with  very  lively  emotions,  by 
christians  in  England.  There,  this  mark  of  Divine  grace  was  re- 
garded, not  only  with  very  deep  interest,  but  with  surprise  and 
w^onder;  nothing  like  it,  for  its  extent  and  povvcr,  having  been  wit- 
nessed, in  that  country,  for  many  previous  years.  Those  excel- 
lent men  observe,  "  VVe  are  abundantly  satisfied  of  the  truth  of 
this  Narrative,  not  only  from  the  character  of  tlie  WTiter  but  from 
the  concurrent  testimony  of  many  other  persons  in  New  England  : 
for  this  thing  was  not  done  in  a  corner.  There  is  a  spot  of  ground, 
as  we  are  here  informed,  wherein  there  are  twelve  or  fourteen 
towns  and  villages,  chiefly  situate  in  the  county  of  Hampshire,  near 
the  banks  of  the  river  Connecdcut,  within  the  com.pass  of  thirty 
miles,  wherein  it  pleased  God,  two  years  ago,  to  display  his  sove- 
reign mercy,  in  the  conversion  of  a  great  multitude  of  souls,  in  a 
short  space  of  time;  turning  them  from  a  formal,  cold  and  careless, 
profession  of  Christianity,  to  the  lively  exercise  of  every  chrisdan 
grace,  and  the  pov/erful  practice  of  our  holy  religion.  The  great 
God  has  seemed  to  act  over  again,  the  miracle  of  Gideon's  fleece, 
which  was  plentifully  watered  with  the  dew  of  heaven,  while  the 
rest  of  the  earth  round  about  it  was  dry,  and  had  no  such  remark- 
able blessing. 

Vol.  I.  18 


138  LIFE    OF    rHESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"Tliere  lias  been  a  great  and  just  complaint,  for  many  years^ 
among  the  ministers  and  churches  of  Old  England,  and  in  New, 
(except  about  the  time  of  the  late  Earthquake  there,)  tbat  the  work 
of  conversion  goes  on  very  slowly,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  in  his 
saving  influences,  is  much  withdrawn  from  the  ministrations  of  his 
word  ;  and  there  are  few^  that  receive  the  ministrations  of  the  Gos- 
pel, with  any  eminent  success  upon  their  hearts.  But  as  the  Gospel 
is  the  same  divine  instrument  of  grace,  still,  as  ever  it  was  in  the 
days  of  the  Apostles,  so  our  ascended  Saviour,  now  and  then,  takes 
a  special  occasion  to  manifest  the  di\anity  of  this  Gospel,  by  a 
plentiful  effiision  of  his  Spirit,  where  it  is  preached :  then  sinners 
are  turned  into  saints  in  numbers,  and  there  is  a  new  face  of  things 
spread  over  a  town  or  country.  The  wilderness  and  the  solitary 
places  are  glad,  the  desert  rejoices  and  blossoms  as  the  rose  ;  and 
surely,  concerning  this  instance,  we  may  add,  that  they  have  seen 
the  glory  of  the  Lord  there,  and  the  excellency  of  our  God ;  they 
have  seen  tlie  outgoings  of  God  our  King  in  his  sanctuary." 

This  work  was  tlie  first  of  a  series  of  publications  from  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, intended  to  explain  the  nature  and  effects  of  saving  conver- 
sion, and  the  nature  of  a  genuine  w^ork  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  a  com- 
munity. As  a  religious  Narrative,  it  is  one  of  the  most  interesting 
I  have  hitherto  met  \nth  ;  having  all  that  exactness  of  description 
and  vividness  of  colouring,  which  attend  the  account  of  an  eye  wit- 
ness, when  drawn  up,  not  from  recollection,  but  in  the  very  pass- 
ing of  the  scenes  which  he  describes.  It  proved  a  most  useful  and 
seasonable  publication.  For  a  long  period.  Revivals  of  rehgionhad 
been  chiefly  unknown,  both  in  Great  Britain  and  on  the  continent 
of  Europe.  The  Church  at  large,  had  generally  ceased  to  expect 
events  of  this  nature,  regarding  them  as  confined  to  Apostolic 
times,  and  to  the  ultimate  triumphs  of  Christianity ;  and  appear  to 
have  entertained  very  imperfect  views  of  their  causes,  their  nature, 
and  the  manner  in  wiiich  they  ought  to  be  regarded.  In  no  pre- 
vious publication,  had  these  important  subjects  been  adequately 
explained.  The  particular  event,  which  Mr.  Edwards  had  the 
privilege  of  recording,  viewed  as  a  remarkable  work  of  Divine 
grace,  has,  to  this  day,  scarcely  a  parallel  in  the  modern  annals  of 
the  Clmrch.  His  own  views  of  these  subjects,  were  alike  removed 
from  tlie  apathy  of  unbelief,  and  the  wildness  of  enthusiasm  :  they 
were  derived,  not  merely  from  his  familiarity  with  the  facts,  but 
from  just  conceptions  of  the  intellectual  and  moral  faculties  of  man, 
and  from  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  word  of  God.  And  while 
the  Narrative  of  Surprising  Conversions  served  to  inspire  tlie 
Church  at  large  with  a  new  and  higher  kind  of  faith,  and  hope  and 
zeal,  it  also  proved  a  safe  directory  of  their  views  and  their  con- 
duct. In  a  short  time  it  was  extensively  circulated,  both  in  Eng- 
land and  Scotland  ;  and  in  the  latter  country,  as  we  shall  soon  have 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARaS.  130 

occasion  to  remark,  its  diffusion  was  speedily  followed  by  salutary 
and  important  consequences. 

It  may  not  be  improper  to  insert  in  this  place,  the  following  let- 
ter of  Mr.  Edwards,  giving  an  account  of  a  surprising  and  alarming 
providence,  which  attended  the  people  of  Northampton,  in  the 
early  part  of  1737. 

'' A^orthampon,  March  19,  1737. 

"We  in  this  town  were,  the  last  Lord's  day,  (March  13th)  the 
spectators,  and  many  of  us  the  subjects,  of  one  of  the  most  ama- 
zing instances  of  Divine  preservation,  that  perhaps  was  ever  known 
in  the  world.  Our  meeting-house  is  old  and  decayed,  so  that  we 
have  been  for  some  time  building  a  new  one,  which  is  yet  unfinished. 
It  has  been  observed  of  late,  that  the  house  we  have  hitherto  met 
in,  has  gradually  spread  at  the  bottom ;  the  sills  and  walls  giving 
way,  especially  in  the  foreside,  by  reason  of  the  weight  of  timber  at 
top  pressing  on  the  braces,  that  are  inserted  into  the  posts  and 
beams  of  the  house.  It  has  done  so  more  than  ordinarily  this 
spring:  which  seems  to  have  been  occasioned  by  the  heaving  of 
the  ground,  through  the  extreme  frosts  of  the  winter  past,  and  its 
now  settling  again  on  that  side  which  is  next  the  sun,  by  the  spring 
thaws.  By  this  means,  the  underpinning  has  been  considerably 
disordered,  which  people  were  not  sensible  of,  till  the  ends  of  the 
joists,  which  bore  up  the  front  gallery,  were  drawn  off  from  the 
girts  on  which  they  rested,  by  the  walls  giving  way.  So  that  in 
the  midst  of  the  pubhc  exercise  in  the  forenoon,  soon  after  the  be- 
ginning of  the  sermon,  the  whole  gallery — full  of  people,  with  all 
the  seats  and  timbers,  suddenly  and  without  any  warning — sunk, 
and  fell  down,  with  the  most  amazing  noise,  upon  the  heads  of  those 
that  sat  under,  to  the  astonishment  of  the  congregation.  The 
house  was  filled  with  dolorous  shrieking  and  crying ;  and  nothing 
else  was  expected  than  to  find  many  people  dead,  or  dashed  to 
pieces. 

"The  gallery,  in  falling,  seemed  to  break  and  sink  first  in  the 
middle  ;  so  tliat  those  w ho  w-ere  upon  it  were  thrown  together  in 
heaps  before  the  front  door.  But  the  whole  was  so  sudden,  that 
many  of  those  who  fell,  knew  nothing  what  it  was,  at  the  time,  that 
had  befallen  them.  Others  in  the  congregation,  thought  it  had 
been  an  amazing  clap  of  thunder.  The  falling  gallery  seemed  to 
be  broken  all  to  pieces,  before  it  got  down ;  so  that  some  who  fell 
with  it,  as  well  as  those  w  ho  were  under,  were  buried  in  the  ruins ; 
and  were  found  pressed  under  heavy  loads  of  timber,  and  could  do 
nothing  to  help  themselves. 

"  But  so  mysteriously  and  wonderfully  did  it  come  to  pass,  that 
every  life  w^as  preserved ;  and  though  many  were  greatly  bruised, 
and  their  flesh  torn,  yet  there  is  not,  as  I  can  understand,  one  bone 


140  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

broken,  or  so  much  as  put  out  of  joint,  among  them  all.  Some, 
who  were  thought  to  be  almost  dead  at  fust,  are  greatly  recovered  j 
and  but  one  young  woman,  seems  yet  to  remam  hi  dangerous  ch- 
cumstances,  by  an  inward  hurt  in  her  breast ;  but  of  late  there  ap- 
pears more  hope  of  her  recovery. 

"  None  can  give  an  account,  or  conceive,  by  what  means  peo- 
ple's lives  and  hmbs  should  be  thus  preserved,  when  so  great  a 
multitude  were  thus  imminently  exposed.  It  looked  as  though  it 
was  impossible,  but  that  great  numbers  must  instantly  be  crushed  to 
death,  or  dashed  in  pieces.  It  seems  unreasonable  to  ascribe  it  to 
any  thing  else  but  the  care  of  Providence,  in  disposing  the  motions 
of  every  piece  of  timber,  and  the  precise  place  of  safety  where 
every  one  should  sit  and  fall,  when  none  were  in  any  capacity  to 
care  for  tlieir  own  preservation.  The  preservation  seems  to  be 
most  wonderful,  vvith  respect  to  the  women  and  children  in  the 
middle  alley,  under  the  gallery  where  it  came  down  first,  and  with 
greatest  force,  and  where  there  was  nothing  to  break  the  force  of 
the  falling  weight. 

"  Such  an  event,  may  be  a  sufficient  argument  of  a  Divine  pro- 
vidence over  the  lives  of  men.  We  thought  ourselves  called  on  to 
set  apart  a  day  to  be  spent  in  the  solemn  worship  of  God,  to  hum- 
ble ourselves  under  such  a  rebuke  of  God  upon  us,  in  time  of  pub- 
lic service  in  his  house,  by  so  dsngerous  and  surprising  an  accident; 
and  to  praise  his  name  for  so  wonderful,  and  as  it  were  miraculous, 
a  preservation.  The  last  Wednesday  was  kept  by  us  to  that  end  ; 
and  a  mercy,  in  which  the  hand  of  God  is  so  remarkably  evident, 
may  be  well  worthy  to  affect  the  hearts  of  all  v.  lio  hear  it." 

In  1738,  the  Narrative  of  Surprising  Conversions  was  republish- 
ed in  Boston,  with  a  Preface  by  four  of  the  senior  ministers  of  that 
town. 

To  it  were  prefixed  five  discourses,  on  the  following  subjects  ; 

I.  Justification  by  Faith  alone.     Rom.  iv.  5. 

n.  Pressing  into  the  kingdom  of  God.     Luke  xvi.  16. 

III.  Ruth's  Resolution.     Ruth  i.  16. 

IV.  The  Justice  of  God  in  the  Damnation  of  Sinners.  Rom. 
fii.  19. 

V.  The  Excellency  of  Jesus  Christ.     Rev.  v.  5,  6. 

The  first  four  of  these  discourses,  were  delivered  during  tlie  Re- 
vival of  Rehgion,  and  were  pubhshed  at  the  earnest  desire  of  tliose 
to  whom  they  were  preached.  In  fixing  on  the  particular  dis- 
courses, necessary  to  make  up  the  volume,  he  was  guided  by  the 
choice  of  the  people.  "  What  has  determ.ined  them  in  this  choice," 
he  observes,  "  is  the  experience  of  special  benefit  to  their  souls 
from  these  discourses.  Their  desire  to  have  them  in  their  hands, 
>Jom  tlie  press,  has  been  long  manifested,  and  often  expressed  to 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  141 

me ;  their  earnestness  in  it  is  evident  from  this,  that  though  it  be  a 
year  to  them  of  the  greatest  charge  that  ever  has  been,  by  reason 
of  the  expense  of  building  a  new  meeting  house,  yet  they  chose 
rather  to  be  at  this  additional  expense  now,  though  it  be  very  con- 
siderable, than  to  have  it  delayed  another  year."  In  pubhshing 
the  discourse  on  Justification,  he  was  also  influenced  by  the 
urgent  request  of  several  clergymen,  who  were  present  when  a 
pan  of  it  was  delivered,  and  wdiose  opinion  and  advice  he  thought 
deserving  of  great  respect.  This  discourse,  though  when  first 
written  of  a  much  less  size  than  as  it  is  printed,  was  preached  at 
tivo  successive  public  lectures,  in  the  latter  part  of  1734.  It  was 
at  a  time,  when  tlie  minds  of  the  people,  in  all  that  section  of  coun- 
try, were  very  much  agitated  by  a  controversy  on  that  very  subject ; 
when  some  were  brought  to  doubt  of  that  w  ay  of  acceptance  with 
God,  which  they  had  been  taught  from  their  infancy,  was  the  only 
way ;  and  when  many  were  engaged  in  looking  more  thoroughly 
into  the  grounds  of  those  doctrines,  in  which  they  had  been  educa- 
ted ;  that  this  discourse  seemed  to  be  remarkably  blessed,  not  only 
in  establishing  the  judgments  of  men  in  this  truth,  but  in  engaging 
their  hearts  in  a  more  earnest  pursuit  of  justification,  by  faith  in  the 
righteousness  of  Christ.  "  At  that  time,^^  says  the  author,  "  while 
I  was  greatly  reproached  for  defending  this  doctrine  in  the  pulpit, 
and  just  upon  my  suffering  a  very  open  abuse  for  it,  God's  work 
wonderfully  broke  forth  among  us,  and  souls  began  to  flock  to 
Christ,  as  the  Sa\dour  in  whose  righteousness  alone  they  hoped  to 
be  justified.  So  that  this  was  the  doctrine,  on  which  this  work,  in 
its  beginning,  was  founded,  as  it  evidently  was  in  the  whole  pro- 
gress of  it."  He  regarded  these  facts  as  a  remarkable  testimony 
of  God's  approbation  of  the  doctrine  of  justification  by  faith  alone. 

This  discourse,  which  is  really  a  Treatise  of  more  than  one  hundred 
closely  printed  pages,  exhibited  the  subject  in  a  light  so  new,  clear 
and  convincing,  and  so  effectually  removed  the  difficulties  with 
which,  till  then,  it  w^as  supposed  to  be  attended,  that  on  its  first  pub- 
lication it  met  a  very  welcome  reception,  and  from  that  time  to  the 
present  has  been  regarded  as  the  common  Text-book  of  students 
in  Theology.  It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  another  treatise  on  tlie 
same  subject,  equally  able  and  conclusive. 

There  are  individuals,  who,  having  received  their  theological 
views  from  the  straitest  sect  of  a  given  class  of  theologians,  regard 
the  Sermon  on  "  Pressing  into  the  kingdom  of  God,"  as  inconsis- 
tent wdth  those  principles  of  Moral  Agency,  which  are  established 
in  the  Treatise  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will ;  and  charitably  impute 
the  error  to  the  imperfect  views  of  the  Author,  at  tliis  period. 
While  a  member  of  college,  however,  Mr.  Edwards,  in  investiga- 
ting the  subject  of  Power,  as  he  was  reading  the  Essay  of  Locke, 
came  to  the  settled  conclusion,  that  men  have,  in  the  physical  sense^ 
the  power  of  repenting  and  turning  to  God.     A  farther  examinatioa 


143  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

might  perhaps  evince,  that  the  pohits  in  question  are  less  consis- 
tent with  some  peculiar  views  of  Theology,  of  a  more  modern  date, 
than  with  any,  logically  deducihle  from  the  Treatise  on  the  Will. 
The  Sermon  itself,  like  the  rest,  has  uncommon  ardour,  unction 
and  solemnity,  and  was  one  of  the  most  useful  which  he  delivered. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Justice  of  God  in  the  Damnation  of  Sinners, 
in  tlie  language  of  the  Text,  literally  stops  the  mouth  of  every 
reader,  and  compels  him,  as  he  stands  before  his  Judge,  to  admit, 
if  he  does  not  feel,  the  justice  of  his  sentence.  I  know  not  where 
to  find,  in  any  language,  a  discourse  so  well  adapted  to  strip  the 
impenitent  sinner  of  every  excuse,  to  convince  him  of  his  guilt,  and 
to  bring  him  low  before  the  justice  and  holiness  of  God.  Accord- 
ing to  the  estimate  of  Mr.  Edwards,  it  was  far  the  most  pow- 
erful and  effectual  of  his  discourses ;  and  w^e  scarcely  know  of  any 
other  sermon  which  has  been  favoured  with  equal  success. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Excellency  of  Christ,  was  selected  by  Mr. 
Edwards  himself,  partly  because  he  had  been  importuned  to  pub- 
lish it  by  individuals  in  another  town,  in  whose  hearing  it  was  occa- 
sionally preached ;  and  pardy  because  he  thought  that  a  discourse 
on  such  an  evangelical  subject,  would  properly  follow  others  that 
were  chiefly  awakening,  and  that  something  of  the  excellency  of 
the  Saviour  was  proper  to  succeed  those  things,  that  were  to  show 
the  necessity  of  salvation.  No  one  who  reads  it  will  hesitate  to 
beheve,  that  it  was  most  happily  selected.  I  have  met  with  no 
sermon  hitherto,  so  admirably  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  a 
sinner,  when,  on  the  commencement  of  his  repentance,  he  renounc- 
es every  other  object  of  trust,  but  the  righteousness  of  Christ. 
Taking  the  whole  volume,  as  thus  printed :  the  Narrative  and  the 
Five  Discourses :  we  suppose  it  to  have  been  one  of  the  most  ef- 
fectual, in  promoting  the  work  of  salvation,  w;hich  has  hitherto  issu- 
ed from  the  press. 

The  sixth  child,  and  eldest  son  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards  was 
born  July  25,  1738,  and  after  his  father  was  baptized  by  the  name 
of  Timothy. 

About  this  period,  Mr.  Joseph  Bellamy,  afterwards  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Bellamy  of  Bethlem  Connecticut,  went  to  Northampton  to  pursue 
his  theological  studies  under  Mr.  Edwards,  and  resided  for  a  con- 
siderable period  in  his  family.  The  very  high  respect,  which  he 
cherished  for  the  eminent  talents  and  piety  of  Mr.  Edwards,  and 
which  drew  him  to  Northampton,  was  reciprocated  by  the  latter ; 
and  a  friendship  commenced  between  them,  which  terminated  only 
with  life.* 

In  the  beginning  of  March,  1739,  Mr.  Edw^ards  commenced  a 
series  of  Sermons  from  Isaiah  li.  8,  "  For  the  moth  shall  eat  them 


*  Mr,  Bellamy  was  settled  at  Bethlem  in  the  spring  of  1740,  in  the  midst  of 
a  general  attention  to  religion,  on  the  part  of  the  people  of  thatplaee. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  143. 

up  like  a  garment,  and  the  ivorm  shall  cat  them  like  wool;  but  my 
righteousness  shall  be  forever,  and  my  salvation  from  generation  to 
generation.''  The  eight  first  were  dehvered  during  that  month, 
the  eight  next  in  the  two  following  months,  and  the  whole  series, 
thirty  in  all,  was  completed  before  the  close  of  August.  After  ex- 
plaining the  text,  he  derives  from  it  the  following  doctrine.  "  The 
Work  of  Redemption  is  a  w^ork,  which  God  carries  on  from  the  fall 
of  man  to  the  end  of  the  world."  The  subject  was  one  in  which 
Mr.  Edw^ards  felt  the  deepest  interest ;  but  he  appears  never  to 
have  repeated  the  Series  of  Discourses  to  his  people.  What  his 
ultimate  intentions  were,  we  may  learn,  how^ever,  from  the  follow- 
ing extract  of  a  letter,  WTitten  by  him  many  years  afterw  ards  :  "  I 
have  had  on  my  mind  and  heart,  (which  I  long  ago  began,  not 
with  any  liew  to  pubhcation,)  a  great  work,  which  I  call,  a  Histo- 
ry of  the  Work  of  Redemption,  a  Bod}^  of  Divinity  in  an  entire 
new  method,  being  thrown  into  the  form  of  a  History,  considering 
the  affair  of  Christian  Theology,  as  the  whole  of  it,  in  each  part, 
stands  in  reference  to  the  great  Work  of  Redemption  by  Jesus 
Christ,  which  I  suppose  is  to  be  the  grand  design  of  all  God's  de- 
signs, and  the  summum  and  ultimum  of  all  God's  operations  .ind 
decrees,  particularly  considering  all  parts  of  the  grand  scheme  in 
their  historical  order  : — The  order  of  their  existence,  or  their  be- 
ing brought  forth  to  view,  in  the  course  of  divine  dispensations,  or 
the  w^onderful  series  of  successive  acts  and  events ;  beginning  from 
eternity  and  descending  from  thence  to  the  great  work  and  succes- 
sive dispensations  of  the  infinitely  wise  God  in  time,  considering 
the  chief  events  coming  to  pass  in  the  church  of  God,  and  revolu- 
tions in  the  world  of  mankind,  affecting  the  state  of  the  church  and 
the  affair  of  redemption,  w^hich  we  have  an  account  of  in  history  or 
prophecy,  till  at  last  we  come  to  the  general  resurrection,  last  judg- 
ment and  consummation  of  all  things  when  it  shall  be  said,  It  is 
done,  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  Beginning  and  the  End:  con- 
cluding my  work,  with  the  consideration  of  that  perfect  state  of 
things,  which  shall  be  finally  settled  to  last  for  eternity. — ^This  his- 
tory will  be  carried  on  with  regard  to  all  three  worlds, — heaven, 
earth  and  hell ;  considering  the  connected,  successive  events,  and 
alterations  in  each,  so  far  as  the  scriptures  give  any  light;  intro- 
ducing all  parts  of  divinity  in  that  order,  which  is  most  scriptural 
and  most  natural ;  which  is  a  method  wiiich  appears  to  me  the 
most  beautiful  and  entertaining,  wherein  every  doctrine  will  ap- 
pear to  the  greatest  advantage,  in  the  brightest  light,  in  the  most 
striking  manner,  showing  the  admirable  contexture  and  harmony 
of  the  whole." 

From  this  it  is  obvious,  that  he  long  cherished  the  intention  of 
pe-wiiting  and  enlarging  the  w^ork,  and  of  mrning  it  into  a  regular 


144  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Treatise ;  but  this  design  he  never  accomplished.     We  shall  have 
occasion  to  allude  to  this  work  hereafter. 

The  sixth  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards,  was  born  June 
24,  1740,  and  named  Susannah. 

The  circumstances,  which  caused  the  remarkable  attention  to 
religion,  which  began  in  1734,  to  decline,  were  chiefly  local  in 
their  nature,  and  limited  in  tlieir  influence,  either  to  Northampton, 
or  to  the  County  of  Hampshire.  The  consequence  was,  that  it 
continued  to  exist,  in  various  sections  of  the  country  to  the  East, 
the  South  and  tlie  West,  during  the  five  following  years.  By  the 
astonishing  work  of  grace  at  Northampton,  an  impulse  had  been 
given  to  the  churches  of  this  whole  western  world,  which  could 
not  soon  be  lost.  The  history  of  that  event,  having  been  exten- 
sively circulated,  had  produced  a  general  comiction  in  the  minds 
of  christians,  that  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  might  be  attended 
by  effects,  not  less  surprising,  than  those  which  followed  it  in  Apos- 
tolic times.  This  conviction  produced  an  important  change  in  the 
views,  and  conduct,  both  of  ministers  and  churches.  The  style  ot 
preaching  was  altered  :  it  became,  extensively,  more  direct  and 
pungent,  and  more  adapted  to  awaken  the  feelings  and  convince 
the  conscience.  The  prayers  of  good  men,  both  in  public  and 
private,  indicated  more  intense  desires  for  the  prevalence  of  reli- 
gion, and  a  stronger  expectation  that  the  word  of  God  would  be 
attended  with  an  immediate  blessing.  As  tlie  natural  result  of 
such  a  change,  revivals  of  religion  were  witnessed  in  numerous 
villages  in  New-Jersey,  Connecticut  and  the  eastern  parts  of  New- 
England  ;  and,  even  where  this  was  not  the  case,  Religion  was  so 
extensively  and  unusually  the  object  of  attention,  during  the  period 
specified,  tliat  the  church  at  large  seemed  preparing  for  events  of 
a  more  interesting  nature,  than  any  that  had  yet  been  witnessed. 

In  consequence  of  the  high  reputation,  which  Mr.  Edwards  had 
acquired  as  a  powerful  and  successful  preacher,  and  as  a  safe  and 
wise  counsellor  to  the  anxious  and  enquiring,  he  received  frequent 
invitations  from  churches,  near  and  more  remote,  to  come  and  la- 
bour among  them  for  a  little  period ;  and  with  the  consent  of  his 
people,  (his  own  pulpit  always  being  supplied,)  he  often  went  forth 
on  tfiese  missionary  tours,  and  found  an  ample  reward  in  the  abun- 
dant success  which  crowned  his  labours.  In  this,  his  example 
was  soon  followed  by  several  distinguished  clergymen  in  Connecti- 
cut and  New-Jersey.  In  one  of  these  excursions,  he  spent  some 
little  time  at  Enfield  in  Connecticut,  where  he  preached,  on  the 
8th  of  July,  1741,  the  well  known  sermon,  entitled.  Sinners  in 
THE  HANDS  OF  AN  ANGRY  GoD,  from  Dcut.  xxxii.  35  J  which  was 


LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS.  145 

the  cause  of  an  immediate  and  general  Revival  of  religion  through- 
out the  place.     It  was  soon  afterwards  published.  ^ 

On  the  2d  of  September  following,  he  preached  the  Sermon, 
entitled,  "  The  Sorrows  of  the  bereaved  spread  before  Jesus,"  at 
the  funeral  of  his  uncle,  the  Rev.  William  WilUams  of  Hatfield,  a 
gentleman  highly  respected  for  his  sound  understanding,  piety, 
and  faithfubess  as  a  minister.  This  sermon  was  immediatelv  af- 
terwards published. 


roL.  r.  1^ 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Commencement  of  a  second  Great  Revival  of  Religion,  in  the 
Spring  and  Summer  of  1740. — Visit  of  Mr.  Whitefield  at 
JStorthampton. — Impidses, — Judging  of  the  Religious  Character 
of  others. — Letter  to  Mr.  Wheelock. — Great  effects  of  a  Private 
Lecture  of  Mr.  E. — Letter  to  his  Daughter. — Letter  to  a  young 
Lady  in  Connecticut. — Lay  Preaching. — Letter  of  Rev.  G, 
Tennent. — Sermon  at  JVeiv-Haven. — Distinguishing  Marks  of 
a  Work  of  the  Spirit  of  God. — Prefaces  by  Mr.  Cooper  and 
Mr.  Witiison. — Mr.  Samuel  Hopkins. 

While  Mr.  Edwards  was  thus  occasionally  serving  his  Divine 
Master  abroad,  he  found,  also,  that  his  labours  at  home  began  to 
be  attended  with  similar  success.  A  great  reformation  in  morals, 
as  well  as  religion,  had  been  the  consequence  of  the  preceding 
Revival  of  religion.  Associations  for  prayer  and  social  religion, 
had  been  regularly  kept  up,  and  a  few  instances  of  awakening  and 
conversion  had  all  along  been  known,  even  at  the  season  of  the 
greatest  stupidity.  In  the  Spring  of  1 740,  there  was  a  perceptible 
alteration  for  the  better ;  and  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
was  most  obvious  on  the  minds  of  the  people,  particularly  on  those 
of  the  young,  in  causing  greater  seriousness  and  solemnity,  and  in 
prompting  them  to  make  religion  far  more  generally  the  subject  of 
conversation.  Improprieties  of  conduct,  too  often  allowed,  were 
more  generally  avoided ;  greater  numbers  resorted  to  Mr.  Edwards 
to  converse  with  him  respecting  their  salvation ;  and,  in  particular 
individuals,  there  appeared  satisfactory  evidence  of  an  entire  change- 
of  chai-acter.  This  state  of  things  continued  through  the  summer 
and  autumn. 

On  the  evening  of  Thursday,  the  16th  of  October,  1740,  Mr. 
Whitefield  came  to  Northampton  to  see  Mr.  Edwards,  and  to  con- 
verse with  him  respecting  the  work  of  God  in  1735,  and  remained 
there  until  the  morning  of  the  20th.  In  this  interval,  he  preached 
five  sermons,  adapted  to  the  circumstances  of  the  town,  reproving 
the  backslidings  of  some,  the  obstinate  impenitence  of  others,  and 
summoning  all,  by  the  mercies  vAxh  which  the  town  had  been  dis- 
tinguished, to  return  to  God.  His  visit  was  followed  by  an  awaken- 
ing among  professors  of  religion,  and  soon  afterwards  by  a  deep 
concern  among  the  young,  and  there  were  some  instances  of  hope- 
ful conversion.  This  increased  during  the  winter ;  and  in  the 
spring  of  1741  Religion  became  the  object  of  general  attention* 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  147 

On  Monday,  Mr.  Edwards,  with  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hopkins  of  West 
Springfield,  his  brother-in-law,  and  several  other  gentlemen,  ac- 
companied Mr.  Whitefield  on  the  east  side  of  the  river  as  far  as 
East  Windsor,  to  the  house  of  his  father,  the  Rev.  Timothy  Ed- 
wards. While  they  were  thus  together,  he  took  an  opportunity  to 
converse  with  Mr.  Whitefield  alone,  at  some  length,  on  the  subject 
of  Impulses,  and  assigned  the  reasons  w^hich  he  had  to  think,  thft 
he  gave  too  much  heed  to  such  things.  Mr.  Whitefield  received 
it  kindly,  birt  did  not  seem  inclined  to  have  much  conversation  on  • 
the  subject,  and  in  the  time  of  it,  did  not  appear  convinced  by  any 
thing  which  he  heard.  He  also  took  occasion,  in  the  presence  of 
others,  to  converse  with  Mr.  Whitefield  at  some  length,  about  his 
too  customary  practice  oi  judging  other  persons  to  he  unconverted  ; 
examined  the  scriptural  warrant  for  such  judgments,  and  expres- 
sed his  own  decided  disapprobation  of  the  practice.  Mr.  White- 
field,  at  the  same  time,  mentioned  to  Mr.  Edwards  his  design  of 
bringing  over  a  number  of  young  men  from  England,  into  New- 
Jersey  and  Pennsylvania,  to  be  ordained  by  the  two  JNlr.  Tennents. 
Their  whole  interview^  was  an  exceedingly  kind  and  affectionate 
one  ;  yet  Mr.  Edwards  supposed,  that  Mr.  Whitefield  regarded 
him  somewhat  less,  as  an  intimate  and  confidential  friend,  than  he 
would  have  done,  had  he  not  opposed  him  in  two  favourite  points 
of  his  own  practice,  for  which  no  one  can  be  at  a  loss  to  perceive, 
that  he  could  find  no  scriptural  justification.  Each  however  re- 
garded the  other,  with  great  affection  and  esteem,  as  a  highly  fa- 
voured serv'ant  of  God ;  and  Mr.  Edw^ards,  as  we  shall  soon  see, 
speaks  of  Mr.  Whitefield 's  visit  to  Northampton,  in  terms  of  the 
warmest  approbation. 

In  the  month  of  May,  a  private  Lecture  of  Mr.  Edwards's  was 
attended  with  very  powerful  effects  on  the  audience,  and  ultimate- 
ly upon  the  young  of  both  sexes,  and  on  children,  throughout  tlie 
town ;  and  during  the  summer,  and  the  early  part  of  the  autumn, 
there  was  a  glorious  progress  in  the  work  of  God  on  the  hearts  of 
sinners,  in  comiction  and  conversion,  and  great  numbers  appeared 
to  become  the  real  disciples  of  Christ. 

Among  the  clergy,  who  at  this  period  occasionally  left  their  own 
congregations,  and  went  forth  as  labourers  into  the  common  field  to 
gather  in  the  harvest,  one  ol  those,  who  were  most  distinguished 
for  their  activity  and  success,  w^as  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wheelock,  of  Leb- 
anon, afterwards  the  President  of  Dartmouth  College.  In  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  Mr.  Edwards  to  this  gendeman,  he  urges  him  to 
•visit  Scantic,  a  feeble  settlement  in  the  northern  part  of  his  fadier's 
parish  :  the  inliabitants  of  which  were  too  remote  to  attend  public 
worship  regularly  at  East- Windsor,  and  yet  too  few  and  feeble  to 
maintain  it  themselves. 


148  LIFE    OF    PKE&IDENT    EDWARDS, 

"  Northampton^  June,  9,  r741» 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  The  special  occasion  of  my  now  writing  to  you,  is  a  desire  I 
have  of  two  things ;  one  is,  that  you  and  your  brother  Pomeroy 
would  go  to  Scantic,  in  my  father's  parish,  and  preach  there,  as  of- 
ten as  the  people  will  be  Avilling  to  hear  you,  and  continue 
so  doing,  as  long  as  the  concerns  of  your  ovvti  parishes  will  allow 
of  your  being  absent-  You  know  the  wTetched  circumstances  of 
that  society ;  and,  if  ever  they  are  healed,  I  believe  it  must  be  by 
a  reviving  and  prevailing  of  ti"ue  religion  among  them.  By  all  that 
I  can  understand,  tliey  are  wholly  dead,  in  this  extraordinary  day 
of  God's  gracious  visitation.  You  have  lately  been  so  remarkably 
blessed  elsewhere,  that  I  cannot  but  hope  you  would  have  success 
there  also.  I  have  wTitten  to  my  father,  to  inform  him,  that  I  have 
desired  this  of  you. 

•'  Another  thing  that  I  desire  of  you  is,  that  you  would  come  up 
hitlier  and  help  us,  both  you  and  Mr.  Pomeroy.  There  has  been 
a  reviving  of  religion  among  us  of  late  :  but  your  labours  have  been 
much  more  remarkably  blessed  than  mine.  Other  ministers,  I  have 
heard,  have  shut  up  their  pulpits  against  you ;  but  here  I  engage 
you  shall  find  one  open.  May  God  send  you  hither,  with  the  hke 
blessing  as  he  has  sent  you  to  some  other  places ;  and  may  your 
commg  be  a  means  to  humble  me,  for  my  barrenness  and  unprofit- 
ableness, and  a  means  of  my  instruction  and  enlivening.  I  want 
an  opportunity  to  concert  measures  with  you,  for  the  advancement 
of  the  kingdom  and  glory  of  our  Redeemer.  Please  to  communi- 
cate what  I  write  to  ^Ir.  Pomeroy,  and  give  my  service  to  him.  I 
desire  the  prayers  of  you  both,  that  God  will  give  me  more  of  that 
holy  spirit,  and  happy  success,  with  which  you  are  replenished. 

"  I  am  Dear  Sir,  your  unworthy  brother  and  fellow  labourer^ 

Jonathan  Edwards. "^ 

As  very  few  of  IMr.  Edwards's  lettei's  to  his  own  family  are 
preserved,  it  is  proper  to  give  those  few  to  the  reader,  even  when 
they  are  not  otherwise  interesting,  in  order  to  exhibit  his  true  cha- 
racter, as  an  affectionate  and  faithful  christian  father.  The  fol- 
lowing was  addressed  to  his  eldest  daughter,  in  her  thirteenth  year, 
while  residing  with  her  aunt,  JMrs.  Huntington,  at  Lebanon. 

"  To  ?Jiss  Sarah  Edwards,  Lebanon. 

'•''  Norihompton^  June  25tk,  174L 

*'  My  dear  Child, 

"  Your  mother  has  received  two  letters  from  you,  since  you  went 
away.  We  rejoice  to  hear  of  your  welfare,  and  of  the  flourishing  state 
of  religion  in  Lebanon.     I  hope  you  will  well  improve  the  ^reat 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  l49 

advantage,  God  is  thereby  putting  into  your  hands,  for  the  good  of 
your  own  souL  You  have  very  weak  and  infirm  heahh,  and  I  am 
afraid  are  always  hke  to  have  ;  and  it  may  be,  are  not  to  be  k)ng- 
lived ;  and  while  you  do  live,  are  not  hke  to  enjoy  so  much  of  the 
comforts  of  this  hfe,  as  others  do,  by  reason  of  your  want  of  health; 
and  therefore,  if  you  have  no  better  portion,  will  be  miserable  m- 
deed.  But,  if  your  soul  prospers,  you  will  be  a  happy,  blessed 
person,  whatever  becomes  of  your  body.  I  wish  you  much  o?  :he 
presence  of  Christ,  and  of  communion  widi  him,  and  that  you 
might  live  so  as  to  give  him  honour,  in  the  place  where  you  are, 
by  an  amiable  behaviour  towards  all. 

"  Your  mother  would  have  you  go  on  with  your  work,  if  you  can, 
and  she  would  be  glad  if  your  aunt  would  set  you  to  work  something 
of  hers,  though  you  do  but  little  in  a  day.  She  would  have  you 
send  word  by  Mr.  Wheelock,  who  I  suppose  will  come  up  the  next 
week,  or  tlie  week  after,  whether  you  are  well  enough  to  make 
lace  :  if  you  are,  she  will  send  you  a  lace  and  bobbins. 

"  The  flourishing  of  religion  in  this  town,  and  in  these  parts  of 
the  country,  has  rather  increased  since  you  went  away.  Your 
mother  joins  with  me  in  giving  her  love  to  you,  and  to  your  uncle 
ana  aunt.  Your  sisters  give  tlieir  love  to  you,  and  their  duty  to 
them.  The  whole  family  is  glad,  when  we  hear  from  you.  Re- 
commending you  to  the  continual  care  and  mercy  of  heaven,  I  re- 
main your  loving  father, 

Jonathan  Edwards." 

Some  time  in  the  course  of  the  year,  a  young  lady,  residing  at 
-,  in  Connecticut,  w^ho  had  lately  made  a  public  profession  of 


religion,  requested  Mr.  Edwards  to  give  her  some  advice,  bs  to 
the  best  manner  of  maintaining  a  religious  life.  In  reply,  liC  ad- 
dressed to  her  the  following  letter  ;  which  will  be  found  eminently- 
useful,  to  all  persons  just  entering  on  the  christian  course. 

Letter  addressed  to  a  Young  Lady  at  S ,  Conn,  in  the  year 

174L 

"  My  dear  young  friend. 

As  you  desired  me  to  send  you,  in  writing,  some  directions  how 
to  conduct  yourself  in  your  christian  course,  I  would  now  answer 
your  request.     The  sweet  remembrance  of  the  great  things  I  have 

lately  seen  at  S ,  inclines  me  to  do  any  tiling  in  my  power,  to 

contribute  to  the  spiritual  joy  and  prosperity  of  God's  people  there. 

1.  I  would  advise  you  to  keep  up  as  great  a  strife  and  earnest- 
ness in  religion,  as  if  you  knew  yourself  to  be  in  a  state  of  nature, 
and  w^ere  seeking  conversion.  We  advise  persons  under  convic- 
tion, to  be  earnest  and  violent  for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  ;  bul 
when  they  have  attained  to  conversion,  they  ought  not  to  be  tlie 
less  watchful,  laborious,  and  earnest,  in  the  whole  work  of  religion ^ 


150  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

l)ut  the  more  so ;  for  they  are  under  infinitely  greater  obligations.' 
For  want  of  this,  many  persons,  in  a  few  months  after  their  con- 
version, have  begun  to  lose  their  sweet  and  lively  sense  of  spiritual 
things,  and  to  grow^  cold  and  dark,  and  have  "  pierced  themselves 
through  with  many  sorrows  ;"  w^hereas,  if  they  had  done  as  the 
Apostle  did,  (Phil.  iii.  12 — 14,)  their  path  would  have  been  "  as 
the  shining  light,  that  shines  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect  day." 

2.  Do  not  leave  off  seeking,  striving,  and  prapng  for  the  very 
same  things  that  we  exhort  unconverted  persons  to  strive  for,  and 
a  degree  of  which  you  have  had  already  in  conversion.  Pray  that 
your  eyes  may  be  opened,  that  you  may  receive  sight,  that  you 
may  know  yourself,  and  be  brought  to  God's  footstool,  and  that  you 
may  see  the  glory  of  God  and  Christ,  and  may  be  raised  from  the 
dead,  and  have  the  love  of  Christ  shed  abroad  in  your  heart. 
Those  who  have  most  of  these  things,  have  need  still  to  pray  for 
them  ;  for  there  is  so  much  blindness  and  hardness,  pride  and 
death  remaining,  tliat  they  still  need  to  have  that  work  of  God 
wrought  upon  them,  further  to  enlighten  and  enliven  them,  tliat 
shall  be  bringing  them  out  of  darkness  into  God's  marvellous  light, 
and  be  a  kind  of  new  conversion  and  resurrection  from  the  dead. 
There  are  very  few  requests  that  are  proper  for  an  impenitent  man, 
that  are  not  also,  in  some  sense,  proper  for  the  godly. 

3.  When  you  hear  a  sermon,  hear  for  yourself.  Though  what 
is  spoken  may  be  more  especially  directed  to  the  unconverted,  or 
to  those  that,  in  other  respects,  are  in  different  circumstances  from 
yourself ;  yet,  let  the  chief  intent  of  your  mind  be  to  consider,  "In 
what  respect  is  this  applicable  to  me  ?  and  what  improvement  ought 
I  to  make  of  this,  for  my  own  soul's  good  ?" 

4.  Though  God  has  forgiven  and  forgotten  your  past  sins,  yet 
do  not  forget  them  yourself :  often  remember,  what  a  ^^Tetched 
bond-slave  you  were  in  the  land  of  Eg}^t.  Often  bring  to  mind 
your  particular  acts  of  sin  before  conversion  ;  as  the  blessed  Apos- 
tle Paul  is  often  mentioning  his  old  blaspheming,  persecuting  spirit, 
and  his  injuriousness  to  the  renewed ;  humbling  his  heart,  and  ac- 
knowledging that  he  was  "  the  least  of  the  Apostles,"  and  not  wor- 
thy "  to  be  called  an  apostle,"  and  the  "least  of  all  saints,"  and  the 
"  chief  of  sinners  ;"  and  be  often  confessing  your  old  sins  to  God, 
and  let  that  text  be  often  in  your  mind,  (Ezek.  xvi.  63,)  "  that  thou 
mayest  remember  and  be  confounded,  and  never  open  thy  moudi 
any  more,  because  of  thy  shame,  when  I  am  pacified  toward  thee 
for  all  that  thou  hast  done,  saith  the  Lord  God." 

5.  Remember,  that  you  have  more  cause,  on  some  accounts,  a 
thousand  times,  to  lament  and  humble  yourself  for  sins  that  have 
been  committed  since  conversion,  than  before,  because  of  the  infi- 
nitely greater  obligations  that  are  upon  you  to  live  to  God,  and  to 
look  upon  the  faithfulness  of  Christ,  in  unchangeably  continuing  his 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  15] 

lo\-ing-kindness,  notwithstanding  all  your  great  unworthiness  since 
your  conversion. 

6.  Be  always  greatly  abased  for  your  remaining  sin,  and  never 
think  that  you  lie  low  enough  for  it ;  but  yet  be  not  discouraged  or 
disheartened  by  it ;  for,  though  we  are  exceeding  sinful,  yet  we 
have  an  Advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  ;  the 
preciousness  of  whose  blood,  the  merit  of  whose  righteousness, 
and  the  greatness  of  whose  love  and  faithfulness,  infinitely  overto],) 
the  highest  mountains  of  our  sins. 

7.  When  you  engage  in  the  duty  of  prayer,  or  come  to  the 
Lord's  Supper,  or  attend  any  other  duty  of  Divine  worship,  come 
to  Christ  as  Mary  Magdalen'*  did;  (Luke  vii.  37,  38;)  come,  and 
cast  yourself  at  his  feet,  and  kiss  them,  and  pour  forth  upon  him  the 
sweet  perfumed  ointment  of  Divine  love,  out  of  a  pure  and  broken 
heart,  as  she  poured  the  precious  ointment  out  of  her  pure  broken 
alabaster  box. 

8.  Remember,  that  pride  is  the  worst  viper  that  is  in  the  heart, 
the  greatest  disturber  of  the  soul's  peace,  and  of  sweet  communion 
with  Christ :  it  was  the  first  sin  committed,  and  lies  lowest  in  the 
foundation  of  Satan's  whole  building,  and  is  with  the  greatest  diffi- 
cult}^ rooted  out,  and  is  the  most  hidden,  secret,  and  deceitful  of 
all  lusts,  and  often  creeps  insensibly  into  the  midst  of  religion ;  even, 
sometimes,  imder  the  disguise  of  humility  itself. 

9.  That  you  may  pass  a  correct  judgment  concerning  yourself, 
always  look  upon  those  as  the  best  discoveries,  and  the  best  com- 
forts, that  have  most  of  these  two  effects  :  those  that  make  you  least 
and  lowest,  and  most  Hke  a  child  ;  and  those  that  most  ei^gage  and 
fix  your  heart,  in  a  full  and  firm  disposition  to  deny  yourself  for 
God,  and  to  spend  and  be  spent  for  him. 

10.  If  at  any  time  you  fall  into  doubts  about  the  state  of  your 
soul,  in  dark  and  dull  frames  of  mind,  it  is  proper  to  review  your 
past  experience ;  but  do  not  consume  too  much  time  and  strength 
in  this  way  :  rather  apply  yourself,  with  all  your  might,  to  an  earn- 
est pursuit  after  renewed  experience,  new  light,  and  new  lively  acts 
of  faith  and  love.  One  new  discovery  of  the  Glory  of  Christ's 
face,  will  do  more  toward  scattering  clouds  of  darkness  in  one 
minute,  than  examining  old  experience,  by  the  best  marks  that  can 
be  given,  through  a  whole  year. 

11.  When  the  exercise  of  grace  is  low,  and  corruption  prevails, 
and  by  that  means  fear  prevails ;  do  not  desire  to  have  fear  cast 
out  any  other  way,  than  by  the  re^^ving  and  prevailing  of  love  in 
the  heart :  by  this,  fear  will  be  effectually  expelled,  as  darkness  in 
a  room  vanishes  away,  when  the  pleasant  beams  of  the  sun  are  let 
into  it. 


*This  is  a  very  common  mistake.     The  woman  here  mentioned  was  not  Ma 
ry  Magdalen. 


152  LIFE    Of    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

12.  When  you  counsel  and  warn  otliers,  do  it  earnestly,  and  af- 
fectionately, and  thoroughly ;  and  when  you  are  speaking  to  your 
eqiuils,  let  your  warnings  be  intermixed  with  expressions  of  your 
sense  of  your  own  unworthiness,  and  of  the  sovereign  grace  that 
makes  you  differ. 

13.  If  you  would  set  up  religious  meetings  of  young  women  by 
yourselves,  to  be  attended  once  in  a  while,  besides  the  other  meet- 
ings that  you  attend,  I  should  think  it  w'ould  be  very  proper  and 
proiitable. 

14.  Under  special  difficulties,  or  when  in  great  need  of,  or  great 
longings  after,  any  particular  mercy,  for  yourself  or  others,  set  apart 
a  day  for  secret  prayer  and  fasting  by  yourself  alone  ;  and  let  the 
day  be  spent,  not  only  in  petitions  for  the  mercies  you  desire,  but 
in  searching  your  heart,  and  in  looking  over  your  past  life,  and  con- 
fessing your  sins  before  God,  not  as  is  wont  to  be  done  in  public 
prayer,  but  by  a  very  particular  rehearsal,  before  God,  of  the  sins 
of  your  past  life,  from  your  childhood  hitherto,  before  and  after 
conversion,  with  the  circumstances  and  aggravations  attending  them, 
spreading  all  the  abominations  of  your  heart,  very  particularly,  and 
fully  as  possible,  before  him. 

15.  Do  not  let  the  adversaries  of  the  cross  have  occasion  to  re- 
proach religion  on  your  account.  How  holily  should  the  children 
of  God,  tlie  redeemed  and  the  beloved  of  the  Son  of  God,  behave 
themselves.  Therefore,  "  walk  as  children  of  tlie  light,  and  of  the 
day,"  and  "  adorn  the  doctrine  of  God  your  Saviour ;"  and  espe- 
cially, abound  in  what  are  called  the  Christian  virtues,  and  make 
you  like  the  Lamb  of  God  :  be  meek  and  lowly  of  heart,  and  full 
of  pure,  heavenly  and  humble,  love  to  all;  abound  in  deeds  of  love 
to  others,  and  self-denial  for  others ;  and  let  there  be  in  you  a  dis- 
position to  account  others  better  than  yourself. 

16.  In  all  your  course,  walk  with  God,  and  follow  Christ,  as  a 
little,  poor,  helpless  child,  taking  hold  of  Christ's  hand,  keeping 
your  eye  on  the  marks  of  the  wounds  in  his  hands  and  side,  whence 
came  the  blood  that  cleanses  you  from  sin,  and  hiding  your  naked- 
ness under  the  skirt  of  the  white  shining  robes  of  his  righteousness. 

17.  Pray  much  for  the  Ministers  and  the  Church  of  God  ;  espe- 
cially, that  he  would  carry  on  his  glorious  work  which  he  has  now" 
begun,  till  the  w^orld  shall  be  full  of  his  glory." 

About  this  period,  a  considerable  number  of  lay  members  of  the 
church  began,  in  various  parts  of  New  England,  to  hold  religious 
meetings,  and  to  preach  and  exhort  in  the  manner  of  clergymen. 
They  were  usually  men  of  worth,  and  desirous  of  doing  good ;  but  ha- 
ving much  zeal,  and  little  knowledge,  and  often  but  little  discretion, 
the  church,  at  that  period,  had  certainly  very  little  reason  to  re- 
ioice  in  their  labours.     The  following  letter  of  the  Rev.  Gilbert 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  153 

Tennent,  written  probably  in  tlie  autumn  of  1741,  explains  his 
own  views  on  this  subject.* 

"Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"I  rejoice  to  hear  that  my  poor  labours  have  been  of  any  service 
to  any  in  New  England.  All  glory  be  to  the  great  and  glorious 
God,  when  out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings,  he  is  pleased 
sometimes  to  ordain  praise.  I  rejoice  to  hear  of  the  progress 
of  God's  work  among  you,  this  last  summer,  and  that  there  are  any 
appearances  of  its  continuance  :  Blessed  be  God,  dear  Brother  ! 
As  to  the  subject  you  mention,  of  laymen  being  sent  out  to  exhort 
and  to  teach,  supposing  them  to  be  real  converts,  I  cannot  but  think, 
if  it  be  encouraged  and  continued,  it  will  be  of  dreadful  conse- 
quence to  the  church's  peace  and  soundness  in  the  faith.  I  will 
not  gainsay  but  that  private  persons  may  be  of  service  to  the  church 
of  God  by  private,  humble,  fraternal  reproof,  and  exhortations; 
and  no  doubt  it  is  their  duty  to  be  faithful  in  these  things.  But  in 
the  mean  time  if  christian  prudence  and  humility  do  not  attend  their 
essays,  they  are  like  to  be  prejudicial  to  the  church's  real  well-being. 
But  for  ignorant  young  converts  to  take  upon  them  authoritatively 
to  instruct  and  exhort  publicly,  tends  to  introduce  the  greatest 
errors  and  the  grossest  anarchy  and  confusion.  The  ministers  ol 
Christ  should  be  apt  to  teach  and  able  to  convince  gainsayers,  and 
it  is  dangerous  to  the  pure  church  of  God,  when  those  are  novices, 
whose  lips  should  preserve  knowledge.  It  is  base  presumption, 
whatever  zeal  be  pretended  to,  notwithstanding,  for  any  persons  to 
take  this  honour  to  themselves,  unless  they  be  called  of  God  as 
Aaron.  I  know  most  young  zealots  are  apt,  through  ignorance, 
inconsideration  and  pride  of  heart,  to  undertake  what  they  have  no 
proper  qualifications  for  :  and,  through  their  imprudences  and  en- 
thusiasm, the  church  of  God  suffers.  I  think  all  that  fear  God, 
should  rise  up  and  crush  the  enthusiastic  creature  in  the  egg.  Dear 
Brother,  the  times  w^e  live  in  are  dangerous.  The  Churches  in 
America  and  elsewhere  are  in  great  hazard  of  enthusiasm:  w^e 
have  need  to  thmk  of  the  maxim,  principns  obsta.  May  Zion's 
King  protect  his  Church  !  I  add  no  more,  but  love,  and  beg  a  re- 
membrance in  your  prayers. 

"  Gilbert  Tennent." 

In  the  September  following,  Mr.  Edwards  attended  the  public 
commencement  at  New  Haven,  and  on  the  10th  of  that  month 
preached  his  celebrated  Sermon  entitled,  "  Distinguishing  Marks 


*  The  siaperscription  and  date  are  ggne  from  the  MS.  but  having  Mr.  Ed- 
ward's hand-writing  on  the  baek,  I  suppose  the  letter  to  have  been  written  to 
him. 

Vol-  L  20 


154  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  a  Work  of  the  Spirit  of  God,"  which,  in  consequence  of  a  gene- 
ral request  from  the  clergy,  and  other  gentlemen  attending  the 
commencement,  was  published  soon  after,  at  Boston,  accompanied 
with  a  Preface  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cooper ;  and  in  Scotland  the 
ensuing  year,  with  a  Preface  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Willison.  This 
Sermon,  by  exhibiting  the  distinguishing  marks  between  an  imagi- 
nary, and  a  real,  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  by  applying  those 
marks  to  the  work  of  grace  then  begun,  and  rapidly  spreading 
throughout  the  Northern  and  Middle  Colonies,  became  an  unan- 
swerable defence,  not  only  of  that,  but  of  all  genuine  Re^avals  ot 
religion.  It  was  indeed  the  object  of  immediate  and  reiterated 
attacks  from  the  press;  but,  being  built  on  the  foundation  of  the 
Apostles  and  the  Prophets,  it  stands  sure,  while  those  attacks,  and 
their  authors  are  forgotten.  It  exhibits  the  scriptural  e\ddences  of 
a  genuine  Revival  of  religion,  in  much  the  same  manner,  as  his 
subsequent  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections,  does  those  of  a  genu- 
ine Conversion.  Mr.  Cooper  thus  introduces  it  to  the  christians 
of  New  England : 

"  If  any  are  disposed  to  receiv^e  conviction,  have  a  mind  open  to 
light,  and  are  really  willing  to  know  of  the  present  Work,  whether 
it  be  of  God;  it  is  with  great  satisfaction  and  pleasure  I  can  re- 
commend to  them  the  following  sheets,  in  which  they  will  find  the 
"  distinguishing  marks"  of  such  a  Work,  as  they  are  to  be  found  in 
the  Holy  Scriptures,  applied  to  the  uncommon  operation  that  has 
been  on  the  minds  of  many  in  this  land.  Here  the  matter  is  tried 
by  the  infallible  touchstone  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and  is  weighed 
in  the  balance  of  the  Sanctuary  with  great  judgment  and  impar- 
tiality. 

"  A  performance  of  this  kind  is  seasonable  and  necessary  ;  and 
I  desire  heartily  to  bless  God,  who  inclined  this,  his  servant,  to  un- 
dertake it,  and  has  greatly  assisted  him  in  it.  The  Reverend  Au- 
thor is  known  to  be  "a  scribe  instructed  unto  the  kingdom  of  hea- 
ven;" the  place  where  he  has  been  called  to  exercise  his  ministry, 
has  been  famous  for  experimental  religion  ;  and  he  has  had  oppor- 
tunities to  observe  this  work  in  many  places  where  it  has  powerful- 
ly appeared,  and  to  converse  A\ith  numbers  that  have  been  the  sub- 
jects of  it.  These  things  qualify  him  for  tliis  undertaking,  above 
most.  His  arguments  in  favour  of  the  Work,  are  strongly  di-awn 
from  Scripture,  Reason  and  Experience :  And  I  shall  believe  every 
candid,  judicious  reader  will  say,  he  WTites  very  free  from  an  en- 
thusiastic or  a  party  spirit.  The  use  of  human  learning  is  asserted  ; 
a  methodical  way  of  preaching,  the  fruit  of  study  as  well  as  prayer, 
is  recommended  ;  and  the  exercise  of  charity,  in  judging  others, 
pressed  and  urged :  And  those  things,  which  are  esteemed  the 
blemishes,  and  are  like  to  be  the  hindrances,  of  die  work,  are  widi 
great  faithfulness  cautioned  and  warned  against. — Many,  I  believe, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  155 

will  be  thankful  for  this  publication.  Those,  who  have  already 
entertained  favourable  thoughts  of  this  work,  will  be  confirmed  by 
it;  and  the  doubting  maybe  convinced  and  satisfied.  But  if  there 
be  any,  after  all,  who  cannot  see  the  signatures  of  a  divine  hand  on 
the  work,  it  is  to  be  hoped  they  \\dll  be  prevailed  on  to  spare  their 
censures,  and  stop  their  oppositions,  lest  "  haply  they  should  be 
found  to  fight  against  God." — I  will  only  add  my  prayer,  That  the 
worthy  Author  of  this  discourse,  may  long  be  continued  a  burning 
and  a  shining  light,  in  the  golden  candlestick  where  Christ  has 
placed  him,  and  from  thence  difflise  his  fight  throughout  these  Pro- 
vinces !  That  the  Divine  Spirit,  whose  cause  is  here  espoused, 
would  accompany  this,  and  the  other  valuable  pubfications  of  his 
servant,  with  his  powerful  influences  ;  that  they  may  promote  the 
Redeemer's  interests,  serve  the  ends  of  vital  religion,  and  so  add 
to  the  Author's  present  joy  and  future  crown  !" 

The  following  is  the  testimony  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Willison,  to  the 
churches  of  Scotland.  "  The  ensuing  Treatise,  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Edwards,  of  Northampton,  in  New  England,  concerning  the  work 
and  operation  of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  men's  consciences,  is,  in  my 
humble  opinion,  a  most  excellent,  solid,  judicious  and  scriptural, 
performance  ;  which,  I  hope  through  the  Divine  blessing,  will 
prove  most  useful  to  the  Church,  for  discerning  a  true  and  real 
work  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  for  guarding  against  delusions  and 
mistakes.  It  is  certainly  a  great  mercy  to  the  church,  that  tliis 
subject  hath  been  undertaken  and  handled  by  such  an  experienced, 
well  furnished  scribe,  that  hath  been  long  acquainted  with  the 
Spirit  of  God's  dealings  with  the  souls  of  men,  in  his  own  congre- 
gation, and  the  country  where  he  fives.  And  seeing  the  extraor- 
dinary work  there  at  present,  though  several  thousand  miles  distant 
from  Scodand,  is  of  the  same  kind  with  that  at  Cambuslang  and 
other  places  about,  and  meets  with  the  same  opposidon ;  the  Author 
doth,  with  great  judgment,  answer  the  common  objections  which 
are  made  against  the  work,  both  here  and  there,  so  that  scarce  any 
thing  further  needs  be  added.  He  warns  people  very  warmly, 
against  opposing  or  reproaching  the  w^ork  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
being  the  Third  Person  of  the  glorious  Trinity,  and  God  equal  with 
the  Father  and  the  Son,  and  the  great  appfier  of  the  redemption 
purchased  for  us  ;  it  becomes  all  men  highly  to  honour  him  and 
his  work,  and  to  look  upon  it  as  highly  dangerous  to  speak  a  word 
against  him,  according  to  Matt.  xu.  32. — I  shaU  add  no  more  but 
my  fervent  prayers  to  God,  to  bless  both  the  Author  and  his  dis- 
course, and  that  he  w^ould  pour  out  his  Spirit  yet  more  abundantly, 
both  on  America  and  all  the  British  dominions  ;  and  that  he  would 
hasten  the  glory  of  the  latter  days,  wiien  the  Jews  shaU  be  brought 
in  with  the  fulness  of  the  Gentiles,  and  tliat  all  the  kingdoms  of 


156  LIFE   OF   PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

the  world  may  become  the  kmgdoms  of  the  Lord  and  of  his  Christ, 
that  he  may  reign  forever  and  ever  !     Amen  and  Amen." 

It  was  during  this  visit  to  New-Haven,  that  Mr.  Hopkins,*  then 
about  to  receive  the  degree  of  A.  B.  at  Yale  College,  first  saw  Mr. 
Edwards.  He  soon  after  became  his  pupil,  and  continued  his  in- 
timate friend  through  life,  and  was  ultimately  his  biographer.  The 
impression  made  on  his  mind,  may  be  gathered  from  the  following 
account  of  the  subject,  in  the  Memoirs  of  his  own  Hfe.  "  When 
I  heard  Mr.  Tennent,"  [the  Rev.  Gilbert  Tennent,  w^ho  had 
preached  often  at  New-Haven  in  the  preceding  IMarch,]  "  I  thought 
he  w^as  the  greatest  and  best  man,  and  the  best  preacher,  that  I  had 
ever  seen  or  heard.  His  words  were  to  me,  "  like  apples  of  gold 
in  pictures  of  silver."  And  I  thought  that,  when  I  should  leave 
the  College,  as  I  was  then  in  my  last  year,  I  would  go  and  live 
with  him,  wherever  I  should  find  him.  But  just  before  the  Com- 
mencement in  September,  when  I  w  as  to  take  my  degree,  on  the 
seventeenth  day  of  which  month  I  w^as  twenty  years  old,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, of  Northampton,  came  to  New-Haven,  and  preached.  He 
then  preached  the  Sermon  on  The  Trial  of  the  Spirits,  ^^  hich  was 
afterwards  printed.  I  had  before  read  his  Sermons  on  Justifica- 
tion, etc.,  and  his  Narrative  of  Remarkable  Conversions  at  North- 
ampton, which  took  place  about  seven  years  before  this.  Though 
I  then  did  not  obtain  any  personal  acquaintance  with  him,  any  far- 
ther than  by  hearing  him  preach  :  yet  I  conceived  such  an  esteem 
of  him,  and  was  so  pleased  with  his  preaching,  that  I  altered  my 
former  determination  with  respect  to  Mr.  Tennent,  and  concluded 
to  go  and  live  with  Mr.  Edwards,  as  soon  as  1  should  have  oppor- 
tunity, though  he  lived  about  eighty  miles  from  my  father's  house." 

*  Afterwards  the  Rev.  Samuel  Hopkins,  D.  D.  of  Newport,  author  of  the 
System  of  Divinity. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Temporary  Abatement  of  Religious  Attention. — Letter  to  Mr. 
Bellamy. — Missionary  Tour. — Success  at  Liecester. — Mr. 
Hopkins  becomes  a  member  of  his  family. — Mr.  BuelVs  suc- 
cessful labours  at  JVorthampton. — Mr.  Edwards^ s  JVarrative 
of  the  Revival  at  JVorthampton,  in  1740,  '41,  '42. —  Cove- 
nant entered  into  by  the   Church. 

For  about  tliree  months,  or  from  November  to  January,  there 
was  an  obvious  abatement  in  the  attention  to  Religion  at  Northamp- 
ton ;  and  although  there  were  instances  of  conversion  from  time  to 
time  through  the  Avinter,  yet  they  were  less  frequent  than  before. 
Mr.  Edwards  alludes  to  this  fact,  in  the  following  letter  to  Mr. 
Bellamy,  of  Bethlem. 

"  JVorthampton,  Jan.  21,  1742. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  received  yours  of  Jan.  11,  for  which  I  thank  you.  Religion, 
in  this  and  the  neighbouring  towns,  has  now  of  late  been  on  the 
decaying  hand.  I  desire  your  prayers,  that  God  would  quicken 
and  revive  us  again ;  and  particularly,  that  he  would  greatly  hum- 
ble, and  pardon,  and  quicken  me,  and  fill  me  with  his  own  fulness ; 
and,  if  it  may  consist  with  his  will,  improve  me  as  an  instrument  to 
revive  his  work.  There  has  been,  the  year  past,  the  most  wonder- 
ful work  among  children  here,  by  far,  that  ever  was.  God  has 
seemed  almost  wholly  to  take  a  new  generation,  that  are  come  on 
since  the  late  great  work,  seven  years  ago. — Neither  earth  nor  hell 
can  hinder  his  work,  that  is  going  on  in  the  country.  Christ  glori- 
ously triumphs  at  this  day.  You  have  probably  before  now,  heard 
of  the  great  and  wonderful  things  that  have  lately  been  wrought  at 
Portsmouth,  the  chief  town  in  New-Hampshire.  There  are  also 
appearing  great  things  at  Ipswich  and  Newbury,  the  two  largest 
towns  in  this  province,  except  Boston,  and  several  other  towns  be- 
yond Boston,  and  some  towns  nearer.  By  what  I  can  understand, 
the  work  of  God  is  greater  at  this  day  in  the  land,  than  it  has  been 
at  any  time.  O  what  cause  have  we,  with  exulting  hearts,  to  agree 
to  give  glory  to  him,  who  thus  rides  forth  in  the  chariot  of  his  sal- 
vation, conquering  and  to  conquer ;  and  earnestly  to  pray,  that  now 
the  Sun  of  Righteousness  would  come  forth  like  a  bridegroom,  re- 
joicing as  a  giant,  to  run  his  race  from  one  end  of  the  heavens  to 
the  other,  that  nothing  may  be  hid  from  the  light  and  heat  thereof. 


158  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  It  is  not  probable  that  I  shall  be  able  to  attend  your  meeting 
at  Guilford.  I  have  lately  been  so  much  gone  from  my  people, 
and  don't  know  but  I  must  be  obliged  to  leave  'em  again  next  week 
about  a  fortnight,  being  called  to  Liecester,  a  towai  about  half  way 
to  Boston,  where  a  great  work  of  grace  has  lately  commenced  ;  and 
probably  soon  after  that  to  another  place ;  and  having  at  this  time 
some  extraordinary  aflairs  to  attend  to  at  home.  I  pray  that  Christ, 
our  good  Shepherd,  ^\^ll  be  with  you,  and  direct  you,  and  greatly 
strengthen  and  bless  you. 

"  Dear  Sir,  I  have  none  of  those  books  you  speak  of,  to  sell.  I 
have  only  a  few,  that  I  intend  to  send  to  some  of  my  friends.  I 
liave  already  sent  you  one  of  my  New-Haven  Sermons,  by  Mr. 

.     Nevertheless,  I  have  here^vith  sent  another,  which  I  desire 

you  to  give  to  Mr.  INIills,  if  he  has  none  ;  but  if  he  has,  dispose  of 
it  where  you  think  it  will  do  most  good.  I  have  also  sent  one  of 
those  Sermons  I  preached  at  Enfield  ;  as  to  the  other,  I  have  but 
one  of  them  in  the  world. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  and  unworthy  brother,  and 
fellow  labourer, 

Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  absence  from  his  people,  alluded  to  in  the  preceding  letter, 
occurred  in  consequence  of  a  missionary  tour  of  some  length,  in 
the  two  preceding  months  ;  during  which  he  visited  various  places, 
to  which  he  had  been  imdted,  in  consequence  of  an  unusual  atten- 
tion to  rehgion  there,  among  the  people.  His  own  congregation, 
jeadily  admitting  that,  at  such  a  time,  there  was  a  louder  call  for 
his  services  in  those  places,  than  in  Northampton,  consented,  in  the 
true  spirit  of  christian  benevolence,  that  he  should  listen  to  these 
calls  of  Providence,  and  go  forth  into  other  fields  of  labour.  In 
so  doing,  they  soon  found  a  fulfilment  of  the  promise,  that  he,  who 
water eth,  shall  he  watered  himself.  On  Monday  the  25th  of  Janu- 
ary, Mr.  Edwards  set  out  for  Liecester,  and  remained  there  seve- 
ral weeks,  preaching  with  remarkable  success.  The  revival  of  re- 
ligion almost  immediately  pervaded  the  whole  congregation,  and 
great  numbers  were  believed  to  be  the  subjects  of  hopeful  conver- 
sion. On  Wednesday,  January  27th,  Mr.  Buell,  a  class  mate  of 
Mr.  Hopkins,  who,  though  he  left  College  in  tlie  September  pre- 
ceding, had  already  been  preaching  some  time,  and  had  gained  the 
reputation  of  an  uncommonly  engaged  and  animated  preacher, 
came  to  Northampton,  to  preach  during  the  absence  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards. Immediately  the  work  of  grace,  which  had  for  a  season 
declined,  was  again  carried  on  with  even  greater  power  than  be- 
fore. A  high  degree  of  religious  feeling  was  excited  in  the  church; 
a  solemn,  anxious  attention  to  the  salvation  of  the  soul,  was  wit- 
nessed extensively  among  the  congregation  ;  and,  soon  after  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  159 

return  of  Mr.  Edwards,  the  work  of  conviction  and  conversion  again 
went  forward,  with  renewed  success. 

P/Ir.  Hopkins  alludes  to  these  events,  in  his  own  Narrative.  "  In 
the  month  of  December,"  he  observes,  "  being  furnished  with  a 
horse,  I  set  out  for  Northampton,  with  a  ^iew  to  Hve  with  ]Mr.  Ed- 
wards, where  I  was  an  utter  stranger.  When  I  arrived  there,  Mr, 
Edwards  was  not  at  home  ;  but  I  was  received  with  great  kindness 
by  Mrs.  Edwards  and  the  family,  and  had  encouragement  that  I 
might  live  there  during  the  winter.  Mr.  Edwards  was  absent  on  a 
preaching  tour,  as  people  in  general  were  greatly  attentive  to  reli- 
gion and  preaching,  which  w^as  attended  with  remarkable  effects,  in 
the  comdction  and  supposed  conversion  of  multitudes.  I  was  very 
gloomy,  and  was  most  of  the  time  retired  in  my  chamber.  After 
some  days,  Mrs.  Edwards  came  into  my  chamber,  and  said,  "  As 
I  was  now  become  a  member  of  the  family  for  a  season,  she  felt 
herself  interested  in  my  welfare ;  and,  as  she  observed  that  I  ap- 
peared gloomy  and  dejected,  she  hoped  I  would  not  think  she  in- 
truded, by  her  desiring  to  know,  and  asking  me  what  was  the  occa- 
sion of  it,  or  to  that  purpose.  I  told  her  the  freedom  she  used  was 
agreeable  to  me ;  that  the  occasion  of  the  appearance  which  she 
mentioned,  w^as  the  state  in  which  I  considered  myself.  I  was  in  a 
christless,  graceless  state,  and  had  been  under  a  degree  of  convic- 
tion and  concern  for  myself,  for  a  number  of  months  ;  had  got  no 
rehef,  and  my  case,  instead  of  growing  better,  appeared  to  grow 
worse.  Upon  which  we  entered  into  a  free  conversation ;  and  on 
the  whole  she  told  me,  that  she  had  peculiar  exercises  in  prayer 
respecting  me,  since  I  had  been  in  the  family  ;  that  she  trusted  I 
should  receive  hght  and  comfort,  and  doubted  not  that  God  intend- 
ed yet  to  do  great  things  by  me. 

"  Religion  was  now  at  a  lower  ebb  at  Northampton,  than  it  had 
been  of  late,  and  than  it  appeared  to  be  in  the  neighbouring  towns,, 
andm  New  England  in  general.  In  the  month  of  January,  IMr.  Buell, 
my  class-mate,  came  to  Northampton,  having  commenced  a  zeal- 
ous preacher  of  the  gospel ;  and  was  the  means  of  greatly  reviving 
the  people  to  zeal  in  rehgion.  He  preached  every  day,  and  some- 
times Uvice  a  day,  publicly,  Mr.  Edwards  being  out  of  town,  preach- 
ing in  distant  towns.  Professing  christians  appeared  greatly  revi- 
ved and  comforted  ;  and  a  number  were  under  conviction ;  and  I 
think  there  were  some  hopeful  new  converts.  After  Mr.  Buell 
had  been  in  Northampton  a  week  or  two,  he  set  out  on  a  tour  to- 
wards Boston."* 

Having  thus  alluded  to  the  religious  state  of  Northampton  at  this 


*  Mr.  Hopkins  continued  to  pursue  his  studies  with  Mr.  Edwards,  until  the 
next  autumn,  and  again  for  a  short  period  in  the  spring,  after  which  he  was 
settled  at  Housatonnuck,  then  a  part  of  Stockbridge,  now  called  Great  Barring- 
ton. 


160  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

period,  so  far  as  was  necessary  to  exhibit  the  order  and  connexion 
of  events ;  we  now  proceed  to  give  Mr.  Edwards'  own  account  of 
the  Revival  of  Religion  in  that  town,  in  1740,  41  and  42,  as 
communicated  in  a  letter  to  a  clergyman  of  Boston. 

''  JSCorthampton,  Dec.  12,  1743. 

"  Rev  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Ever  since  the  great  work  of  God,  that  was  \M"Ought  here  about 
nine  years  ago,  there  has  been  a  great  and  abiding  alteration  in  this 
town,  in  many  respects.  There  has  been  vastly  more  religion  kept 
up  in  the  town,  among  all  sorts  of  persons,  in  religious  exercises, 
and  in  common  conversation ;  there  has  been  a  great  alteration 
among  the  youth  of  the  town,  with  respect  to  revelry,  frolicking, 
profane  and  licentious  conversation,  and  lewd  songs;  and  there 
has  also  been  a  great  alteration,  amongst  both  old  and  young,  with 
regard  to  tavern-haunting.  I  suppose  the  town  has  been  in  no 
measure,  so  free  of  vice  in  these  respects,  for  any  long  time  together 
for  sixty  years,  as  it  has  been  these  nine  years  past.  There  has 
also  been  an  evident  alteration,  with  respect  to  a  charitable  spirit  to 
the  poor :  though  I  think  with  regard  to  this,  we  in  this  town,  as 
well  as  the  land  in  general,  come  far  short  of  gospel  rules.  And 
though  after  that  great  work  nine  years  ago,  there  has  been  a  very 
lamentable  decay  of  religious  affections,  and  the  engagedness  of 
people's  spirit  in  religion  ;  yet  many  societies  for  prayer  and  social 
worship,  were  all  along  kept  up,  and  there  were  some  few  instances 
of  awakening,  and  deep  concern  about  the  things  of  another  world, 
even  in  the  most  dead  time. 

"In  the  year  1740,  in  the  spring,  before  Mr.  Whitefield  came 
to  this  to^\Ti,  there  w'as  a  visible  alteration:  there  was  more  seri- 
ousness and  religious  conversation ;  especially  among  young  peo- 
ple :  those  things  that  were  of  ill  tendency  among  them,  were  fore- 
borne  ;  and  it  was  a  very  frequent  thing  for  persons  to  consult  their 
minister  upon  the  salvation  of  their  souls ;  and  in  some  particular 
persons,  there  appeared  a  great  attention,  about  that  time.  And 
thus  it  continued,  until  Mr.  Whitefield  came  to  town,  which  was 
about  the  middle  of  October  following :  he  preached  here  four  ser- 
mons in  the  meeting-house,  (besides  a  private  lecture  at  my  house,) 
one  on  Friday,  another  on  Saturday,  and  two  upon  the  Sabbath. 
The  congregation  was  extraordinarily  melted  by  every  sermon  ; 
almost  the  whole  assembly  being  in  tears  for  a  great  part  of  sermon 
time.  Mr.  Whitefield's  sermons  w^ere  suitable  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  town;  containing  a  just  reproof  of  our  backslidings,  and  in  a 
most  moving  and  affecting  manner,  making  use  of  our  great  pro- 
fessions, and  great  mercies,  as  arguments  with  us  to  return  to  God, 
from  whom  we  had  departed.     Immediately  after  this,  the  minds 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  1  ()  1 

of  the  people  in  general  appeared  more  engaged  in  religion,  shew- 
ing a  greater  forwardness  to  make  religion  the  subject  of  their  con- 
versation, and  to  meet  frequently  for  religious  purposes,  and  to  em- 
brace all  opportunities  to  hear  the  w'ord  preached.  The  revival  at 
first,  appeared  chiefly  among  professors,  and  those  that  had  enter- 
tained hope  that  they  w'ere  in  a  state  of  salvation,  to  whom  Mr. 
Whitefield  chiefly  addressed  himself;  but  in  a  very  short  time, 
there  appeared  an  awakening  and  deep  concern  among  some  young 
persons,  that  looked  upon  themselves  in  a  christless  state ;  and 
there  were  some  hopeful  appearances  of  conversion,  and  some  pro- 
fessors w^ere  greatly  revived.  In  about  a  month  or  six  weeks,  there 
was  a  great  attention  in  the  town,  both  as  to  the  revival  of  profes- 
sors and  the  awakening  of  others.  By  the  middle  of  December,  a 
considerable  work  of  God  appeared  among  those  that  were  very 
young ;  and  the  revival  of  religion  continued  to  increase,  so  that 
in  the  spring  an  engagedness  of  spirit,  about  the  things  of  religion, 
was  become  very  general  amongst  young  people  and  children,  and 
religious  subjects  almost  wiiolly  took  up  their  conversation,  w^hen 
they  were  together. 

"  In  the  month  of  May,  1741,  a  sermon  was  preached  to  a  com- 
pany, at  a  private  house  :  Near  the  conclusion  of  the  discourse, 
one  or  two  persons,  tliat  were  professors,  were  so  greatly  affected 
with  a  sense  of  the  greatness  and  glory  of  divine  things,  and  the 
infinite  importance  of  the  things  of  eternity,  that  they  w^ere  not  able 
to  conceal  it — the  affection  of  their  minds  overcoming  their 
strength,  and  having  a  very  visible  effect  upon  their  bodies.  When 
the  exercises  were  over,  the  young  people  that  were  present,  re- 
moved into  the  other  room  for  rehgious  conference  ;  and  particu- 
larly that  they  might  have  opportunity  to  enquire  of  those,  that  were 
thus  affected,  w^hat  apprehensions  they  had  :  and  what  things  they 
were,  that  thus  deeply  impressed  their  minds ;  and  there  soon  ap- 
peared  a  very  great  effect  of  their  conversation ;  the  affection 
w'as  quickly  propagated  throughout  the  room  ;  many  of  the  young 
people  and  children,  that  w^ere  professors,  appeared  to  be  overcome 
with  a  sense  of  the  greatness  and  glory  of  divine  things,  and  with 
admiration,  love,  joy,  and  praise,  and  compassion  to  others,  that 
looked  upon  themselves  as  in  a  state  of  nature ;  and  many  others  at 
the  same  time  were  overcome  with  distress,  about  their  sinful  and 
miserable  estate  and  condition ;  so  that  the  whole  room  was  full  of 
nothing  but  outcries,  faintings,  and  the  like.  Others  soon  heard  of 
it  in  several  parts  of  the  tow^n,  and  came  to  them ;  and  what  they 
saw  and  beard  there,  was  greatly  affecting  to  them,  so  that  many  of 
them  were  overpowered  in  hke  manner,  and  it  continued  thus  fot 
some  hours ;  the  time  being  spent  in  prayer,  singing,  counselling 
and  conferring.  There  seemed  to  be  a  consequent  happy  effect 
of  that  meeting,  to  several  particular  persons,  and  on  the  state  of 
religion   in  the  town  in  general.       After  this,  were  meetings  from 

Vol.  L  ^  21 


162  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

time  to  time,  attended  with  like  appearances.  But  a  little  after  it, 
at  the  conclusion  of  the  public  exercises  on  the  Sabbath,  I  appointed 
the  children  that  were  under  seventeen  years  of  age,  to  go  from  the 
meeting-house  to  a  neighbouring  house,  that  I  might  there  further 
enforce  what  they  had  heard  in  public,  and  might  give  in  some 
counsels  proper  for  their  age.  The  cliildren  were  there  very  gene- 
rally and  greatly  affected  with  the  warnings  and  counsels  that  were 
given  them,  and  many  exceedingly  overcome ;  and  tlie  room  was 
filled  with  cries ;  and  when  they  were  dismissed,  they  almost  all 
of  them  went  home  crying  aloud  through  the  streets,  to  all  parts  of 
the  town.  The  like  appearances  attended  several  such  meetings  of 
children,  that  were  appointed.  But  their  affections  appeared  by 
what  followed,  to  be  of  a  very  different  nature :  in  many,  they  ap- 
peared indeed  but  childish  affections,  and  in  a  day  or  two  would 
leave  them  as  they  were  before  :  others  were  deeply  impressed  ', 
their  convictions  took  fast  hold  of  them,  and  abode  by  them :  and 
there  were  some  that,  from  one  meeting  to  another,  seemed  extra- 
ordinarily affected  for  some  time,  to  but  little  purpose,  their  affec- 
tions presently  vanishing  from  time  to  time  ;  but  yet  afterwards, 
were  seized  with  abiding  convictions,  and  their  affections  became 
durable. 

*'  About  the  middle  of  the  summer,  I  called  together  the  young 
people  that  were  communicants,  from  sixteen  to  twenty-six  years 
of  age,  to  my  house  ;  which  proved  to  be  a  most  happy  meeting  : 
many  seemed  to  be  very  greatly  and  most  agreeably  affected  with 
those  views,  which  excited  humility,  self-condemnation,  self-abhor- 
rence, love  and  joy  :  many  fainted  under  these  affections.  We 
had  several  meetings  that  summer,  of  young  people,  attended  with 
like  appearances.  It  was  about  that  time,  that  there  first  began  to 
be  cryings  out  in  the  meeting  house  ;  which  several  times  occasion- 
ed many  of  the  congregation  to  stay  in  the  house  after  the  public 
exercises  were  over,  to  confer  with  those  who  seemed  to  be  over- 
come wath  religious  convictions  and  affections,  which  was  found  to 
tend  much  to  the  propagation  of  their  impressions,  with  lasting  ef- 
fect upon  many  ;  conference  being,  at  these  times,  commonly  join- 
ed with  prayer  and  singing.  In  the  summer  and  autumn,  the  chil- 
dren in  various  parts  of  the  town,  had  religious  meetings  by  them- 
selves, for  prayer,  sometimes  joined  with  fasting  ;  wherein  many  of 
them  seemed  to  be  greatly  and  properly  affected,  and  I  hope  some 
of  them  savingly  wrought  upon. 

"The  montlis  of  August  and  September,  were  the  most  remarkable 
of  any  this  year,  for  appearances  of  the  conviction  and  conversion 
of  sinners,  and  great  revivings,  quickenings,  and  comforts  of  profes- 
sors, and  for  extraordinary  external  effects  of  these  thmgs.  It  was 
a  very  frequent  thing,  to  see  an  house  full  of  out-cries,  faintings, 
convulsions,  and  such  like,  both  with  distress,  and  also  with  admira- 
tion and  joy.     It  was  not  the  manner  here,  to  hold  meetings  all 


LIFE    OF    PUESIDENT    EDWARDS.  \  bo 

night,  as  in  some  places,  nor  was  it  common  to  continue  lliem  tili 
very  late  in  the  night :  but  it  was  pretty  often  so,  that  there  were 
some  that  were  so  affected,  and  their  bodies  so  overcome,  that  they 
could  not  go  home,  but  were  obliged  to  stay  all  night  where  diey 
were.  There  was  no  difference,  that  I  know  of  here,  with  regard 
to  these  extraordinary  effects,  in  meetings  in  the  night  and  in  the 
day  time  :  the  meetings  in  which  these  effects  appeared  in  the  eve- 
ning, being  commonly  begun,  and  dieir  extraordinary  effects,  in  the 
day,  and  continued  in  the  evening ;  and  some  meetings  have  been 
very  remarkable  for  such  extraordinary  effects,  that  were  both  be- 
gun and  finished  in  the  day  time.  There  w^as  an  appearance  of  a 
glorious  progress  of  the  work  of  God  upon  the  hearts  of  sinners,  in 
conviction  and  conversion,  this  summer  and  autumn,  and  great  num- 
bers, I  think  we  have  reason  to  hope,  were  brought  savingly  home 
to  Christ.  But  this  was  remarkable :  the  work  of  God  in  his  in- 
fluences of  this  nature,  seemed  to  be  almost  wholly  upon  a  new 
generation — those  that  were  not  come  to  years  of  discretion  in  that 
wonderful  season,  nine  yeai's  ago,  children,  or  those  that  were  then 
children  :  Others,  who  had  enjoyed  that  former  glorious  opportu- 
nity, without  any  appearance  of  saving  benefit,  seemed  now  to  be 
almost  wholly  passed  over  and  let  alone.  But  now  w^e  had  the 
most  wonderful  work  among  children,  that  ever  w^as  in  Northamp- 
ton. The  former  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  was  remarkable  for  in- 
fluences upon  the  minds  of  children,  beyond  all  that  had  ever  been 
before ;  but  this  far  exceeded  that.  Indeed,  as  to  influences  on 
the  minds  of  professors,  diis  work  was  by  no  means  confined  to  a 
new  generation.  Many,  of  all  ages,  partook  of  it :  but  yet  in  this 
respect,  it  was  more  general  on  those  that  were  of  the  young  sort. 
Many,  who  had  been  formerly  wTOught  upon,  and  in  the  time  of 
our  declension  had  fallen  into  decays,  and  had  in  a  great  measure 
left  God,  and  gone  after  the  w^orld,  now  passed  under  a  very  re- 
markable new  w^ork  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  as  if  they  had  been  tlie 
subjects  of  a  second  conversion.  They  were  first  led  into  the  wil- 
derness, and  had  a  w*ork  of  conviction  ;  having  much  deeper  convic- 
tions of  the  sins  of  both  nature  and  practice,  than  ever  before ; 
though  with  some  new  circumstances,  and  something  new^  in  the 
kind  of  comiction  in  some,  with  great  distress,  beyond  what  they 
had  felt  before  their  first  conversion.  Under  these  convictions, 
they  were  excited  to  strive  for  salvation,  and  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en suffered  violence  from  some  of  them,  in  a  far  more  remarkable 
manner  than  before ;  and  after  great  convictions  and  humblings, 
and  agonizing  with  God,  they  had  Christ  discovered  to  them  anew, 
as  an  all  sufficient  Sa\iour,  and  in  the  glories  of  his  grace,  and  in 
a  far  more  clear  manner  than  before ;  and  wath  greater  humility, 
self-emptiness  and  brokenness  of  heart,  and  a  purer,  a  higher  joy, 
and  greater  desires  after  holiness  of  life  ;  but  with  greater  self-dif- 
fidence and  distrust  of  their  treacherous  hearts.  One  circumstance, 


164  LiFK    OF    PllEsilJJE.NT    EJ)WAKi)i*. 

wherein  this  work  differed  from  that,  which  had  been  in  the  towns 
five  or  six  years  before,  was,  that  conversions  were  frequently 
wrought  more  sensibly  and  visibly ;  the  impressions  stronger,  and 
more  manifest  by  their  external  etfects  ;  the  progress  of  the  Spirit 
of  God  in  conviction,  from  step  to  step,  more  apparent ;  and  the 
transition  from  one  state  to  another,  more  sensible  and  plain ;  so 
that  it  might,  in  many  instances,  be  as  it  were  seen  by  by-standers. 
The  preceding  season  had  been  very  remarkable  on  this  account, 
beyond  what  had  been  before  ;  but  this  more  remarkable  than  that. 
And  in  this  season,  these  apparent  or  visible  conversions,  (if  I  may 
so  call  them,)  were  more  frequently  in  the  presence  of  others,  at 
religious  meetings,  where  the  appearances  of  what  was  wrought  on 
the  heart,  fell  under  pubhc  observation. 

"After  September,  1741,  there  seemed  to  be  some  abatement 
of  these  extraordinary  appearances,  yet  they  did  not  wholly  cease, 
but  there  was  something  of  them  from  time  to  time,  all  winter. 
About  the  beginning  of  February,  1742,  Mr.  Buell  came  to  this 
town.  I  was  then  absent  from  home,  and  continued  so  till  about  a 
fortnight  after.  Mr.  Bueh  preached  from  day  to  day,  almost  eve- 
ry day,  in  the  meeting  house. — I  had  left  to  him  the  free  use  of  my 
pulpit,  having  heard  of  his  designed  visit,  before  I  went  from  home. 
He  spent  almost  the  whole  time  in  religious  exercises  with  the  peo- 
ple, either  in  public  or  private,  the  people  continually  thronging 
him.  When  he  first  came,  there  came  A\-ith  him  a  number  of  the 
zealous  people  from  Suffield,  who  continued  here  for  some  time. 
There  were  very  extraordinary  effects  of  Mr,  Buell's  labours  ;  the 
people  were  exceedingly  moved,  crying  out  in  great  numbers  in  the 
meeting  house,  and  a  great  part  of  the  congregation  commonly 
staying  in  the  house  of  God,  for  hours  after  the  public  service. 
Many  also,  were  exceedingly  moved  in  private  meetings,  where 
Mr.  Buell  was  :  almost  the  whole  town  seemed  to  be  in  a  great  and 
continual  commotion,  day  and  night,  and  tiiere  was  indeed  a  very 
great  re^aval  of  rehgion.  But  it  was  principally  amiong  professors  ; 
the  appearances  of  a  work  of  conversion  were  in  no  measure  as 
great,  as  they  had  been  the  summer  before.  When  I  came  home, 
I  found  the  town  in  very  extraordinary  circumstances,  such  as,  in 
some  respects,  I  never  saw  it  in  before.  Mr.  Buell  continued  here 
a  fortnight  or  three  weeks  after  I  returned  :  there  being  still  great 
appearances  attending  his  labours ;  many  in  their  religious  affec- 
tions being  raised,  far  beyond  what  they  had  ever  been  before  : 
and  there  were  some  mstances  of  persons  lying  in  a  sort  of  trance, 
remaining  perhaps  for  a  whole  twent3^-four  hours  motionless,  and 
with  their  senses  loclced  up ;  but  in  the  mean  time  under  strong 
imaginations,  as  though  they  went  to  heaven,  and  had  there  a  vision 
of  glorious  and  delightful  objects.  But  when  the  people  w^cre  rais- 
ed to  this  height,  Satan  took  the  advantage,  and  his  interposition,  in 
many  instances,  soon  became  very  apparent :  and  a  great  deal  of 


LIVE    OF    PKKSIDKNT    EDWARDS.  165 

caution  and  pains  were  found  necessary,  to  keep  the  people,  manj 
of  them,  from  '-unning  wild. 

"  In  the  month  of  March,  I  led  the  people  into  a  solemn  public 
renew^al  of  their  covenant  with  God.  To  that  end,  having  made  a 
draft  of  a  covenant,  I  first  proposed  it  to  some  of  the  principal  men 
in  the  church  ;  then  to  the  people,  in  their  several  religious  associ- 
ations in  various  parts  of  the  town  ;  then  to  the  whole  congregation 
hi  public ;  and  then,  I  deposited  a  copy  of  it  in  the  hands  of  each 
of  the  four  deacons,  that  all  who  desired  it  might  resort  to  them, 
and  have  opportunity  to  view  and  consider  it.  Then  the  people  in 
general,  that  were  above  fourteen  years  of  age,  first  subscribed  the 
covenant  wdth  their  hands  ;  and  then,  on  a  day  of  fasting  and  prayer, 
aii  together  presented  themselves  before  the  Lord  in  his  house,  and 
stood  up,  and  solemnly  manifested  their  consent  to  it,  as  their  vow 
to  God.     The  covenant  was  as  follows  : 

"  COPY  OF  A  COVENANT, 

^'  Entered  into  and  subscribed,  by  the  people  of  God  at  North- 
ampton, and  owned  before  God  in  his  house  as  their  vow  to  the 
Lord,  and  made  a  solemn  act  of  public  worship,  by  the  congrega- 
tion in  general  that  w^ere  above  fourteen  years  of  age,  on  a  day  of 
fasting  and  proyer  for  the  continuance  and  increase  of  the  gracious 
presence  of  God  in  that  place. 

"  March  I6th,  1742.  Acknowdedging  God's  great  goodness  to 
us,  a  sinful,  umvorthy  people,  in  the  blessed  manifestations,  and 
fruits  of  his  gracious  presence  in  this  town,  both  formerly  and  late- 
ly, and  particularly  in  the  very  late  spiritual  Revival ;  and  adoring 
the  glorious  Majesty,  Power  and  Grace  of  God,  manifested  in  the 
present  wonderful  outpouring  of  his  Spirit,  iii  many  parts  of  this 
land,  in  this  place ;  and  lamenting  our  past  backshdings  and  un- 
grateful departings  from  God,  and  humbly  begging  of  God  that  he 
would  not  mark  our  iniquities,  but  for  Christ's  sake,  come  over  the 
mountains  of  our  sins,  and  visit  us  with  his  salvation,  and  continue 
the  tokens  of  his  presence  with  us,  and  yet  more  gloriously  pour 
out  his  blessed  Spirit  upon  us,  and  make  us  all  partakers  of  the 
divine  blessings,  he  is,  at  this  day,  bestowing  here,  and  in  many 
parts  of  tliis  land ;  we  do  this  day  present  ourselves  before  the 
Lord,  to  renounce  our  evil  ways,  w^e  put  away  our  abominations 
from  before  God's  eyes,  and  with  one  accord,  to  renew  our  en- 
gagements to  seek  and  serve  God :  and  particularly  do  now  so- 
lemnly promise  and  vow  to  the  Lord  as  follows  :-^ 

"  111  all  our  conversation,  concerns  and  dealings  with  our  neigh- 
bour, we  will  have  a  strict  regard  to  rules  of  honesty,  justice  and 
uprightness,  that  we  dont  overreach  or  defraud  our  neighbour  in 
any  matter,  and  either  wilfully,  or  through  want  of  care,  injure  him 
in  any  of  his  honest  possessions  or  rights,  and  in  all  our  communi- 
cation, will  have  a  tender  respect,  not  only  to  our  own   interest. 


1G6  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

but  also  to  the  interest  of  our  neighbour ;  and  will  carefully  en- 
deavour, in  every  thing,  to  do  to  others  as  we  should  expect,  or 
think  reasonable,  that  they  should  do  to  us,  if  we  were  in  their 
case,  and  they  in  ours. 

"  And  particularly  we  will  endeavour  to  render  every  one  his 
due,  and  will  take  heed  to  ourselves,  that  we  dont  injure  our  neigh- 
bour, and  give  him  just  cause  of  offence,  by  wilfully  or  neghgently 
forbearing  to  pay  our  honest  debts. 

"  And  wherein  any  of  us,  upon  strict  examination  of  our  past 
beha^^our,  may  be  conscious  to  ourselves,  that  we  have  by  any 
means  wTonged  any  of  our  neighbours  in  their  outw^ard  estate,  we 
will  not  rest,  till  we  have  made  that  restitution,  or  given  that  satis- 
faction, which  the  rules  of  moral  equity  require  ;  or  if  we  are,  on 
a  strict  and  impartial  search,  conscious  to  ourselves,  that  we  have 
in  any  other  respect,  considerably  injured  our  neighbour,  we  will 
truly  endeavour  to  do  tliat,  which  we  in  our  consciences,  suppose 
christian  rules  require,  in  order  to  a  reparation  of  the  injury,  and 
removing  the  offence  given  thereby. 

"  And  furthermore  we  promise,  that  we  will  not  allow  ourselves 
in  backbiting ;  and  that  we  will  take  great  heed  to  ourselves  to 
avoid  all  violations  of  those  christian  rules.  Tit.  iii.  2,  Speak  evil 
of  no  man;  Jam.  iv.  11,  Speah  not  evil  one  of  another,  brethren; 
and  2  Cor.  xii.  20,  Let  there  he  no  strifes,  backbit ings,  whisperings; 
and  that  we  will  not  only  not  slander  our  neighbour,  but  also  will 
not  feed  a  spirit  of  bitterness,  ill  will,  or  secret  grudge  against  our 
neighbour,  insist  on  his  real  faults  needlessly,  and  when  not  called 
to  it,  or  from  such  a  spirit,  speak  of  his  failings  and  blemishes  with 
ridicule,  or  an  air  of  contempt. 

"  And  we  promise,  that  we  will  be  very  careful  to  avoid  doing 
any  thing  to  our  neighbour  from  a  spirit  of  revenge.  And  that  we 
will  take  great  care  that  w^e  do  not,  for  private  interest  or  our  own 
honour,  or  to  maintain  ourselves  against  those  of  a  contrary  party, 
or  to  get  our  wills,  or  to  promote  any  design  in  opposition  to  others, 
do  those  things  which  we,  on  the  most  impartial  consideration  are 
capable  of,  can  think  in  our  consciences,  will  tend  to  wound  reli- 
gion, and  the  interests  of  Christ's  kingdom. 

"  And  particularly,  that  so  far  as  any  of  us,  by  divine  Provi- 
dence, have  any  special  influence  upon  others,  to  lead  them  in  the 
management  of  public  affairs,  we  will  not  make  our  own  w^orldly 
gain,  or  honour,  or  interest  in  the  affections  of  others,  or  getting 
the  better  of  any  of  a  contrary  party,  that  are  in  any  respect  our 
competitors,  or  the  bringing  or  keeping  them  down,  our  governing 
aim,  to  the  prejudice  of  the  interest  of  religion,  and  the  honour  ol 
Christ. 

"  And  in  the  management  of  any  public  aflair,  wherever  there 
is  a  difference  of  opinions,  concerning  any  outward  possessions, 
privileges,  rights  or  properties,  we  will  not  willingly  violate  justice. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  1  6T 

for  private  interest :  and  with  the  greatest  strictness  and  watchful- 
ness, will  avoid  all  unchristian  bitterness,  vehemence  and  heat  oi" 
spirit ;  yea,  tliough  we  should  think  ourselves  injured  by  a  contra- 
ry party ;  and  in  the  time  of  the  management  of  such  affairs,  will 
especially  watch  over  ourselves,  our  spirits  and  our  tongues,  to 
avoid  all  unchristian  inveighings,  reproachings,  bitter  reflectings, 
judging  and  ridicuhng  others,  either  in  public  meetings  or  in  pri- 
vate conversation,  either  to  men's  faces,  or  behind  their  backs; 
but  will  greatly  endeavour,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned,  that  all 
should  be  managed  with  christian  humility,  gentleness,  quietness 
and  love. 

"  And  furthermore  we  promise,  that  we  will  not  tolerate  the  ex- 
ercise of  enmity  and  ill  will,  or  revenge  in  our  he  arts,  against  any 
of  our  neighbours;  and  we  will  often  be  strictly  searching  and  ex- 
amining our  own  hearts  with  respect  to  that  matter. 

"  And  if  any  of  us  find  that  we  have  an  old  secret  grudge  against 
any  of  our  neighbours,  we  will  not  gratify  it,  but  cross  it,  and  en- 
deavour to  our  utmost  to  root  it  out,  crying  to  God  for  his  help  ; 
and  that  we  will  make  it  our  true  and  faithful  endeavour,  in  our 
places,  that  a  party  spirit  may  not  be  kept  up  amongst  us,  but  that 
it  may  utterly  cease  ;  that  for  the  future,  we  may  all  be  one,  united 
in  undisturbed  peace,  and  unfeigned  love. 

"And  those  of  us  that  are  in  youth,  do  promise,  never  to  allow 
ourselves  in  any  diversions  or  pastimes,  in  meetings,  or  companies 
of  young  people,  that  we,  in  our  consciences,  upon  sober  conside- 
ration, judge  not  well  to  consist  with,  or  w^ould  sinfully  tend  to 
hinder,  the  devoutest  and  most  engaged  spirit  in  religion,  or  indis- 
pose the  mind  for  that  devout,  and  profitable  attendance  on  the 
duties  of  the  closet,  which  is  most  agreeable  to  God's  will,  or  that 
we,  in  our  most  impartial  judgment,  can  think  tends  to  rob  God  of 
that  honour  which  he  expects,  by  our  orderly  serious  attendance 
on  family  worship. 

"  And  furthermore  we  promise,  that  w^e  will  strictly  avoid  all 
freedoms  and  familiarities  in  company,  so  tending,  either  to  stir  up, 
or  gratify  a  lust  of  laciviousness,  that  we  cannot  in  our  consciences 
think  will  be  approved  by  the  infinitely  pure  and  holy  eye  of  God, 
or  that  we  can  think,  on  serious  and  impartial  consideration,  we 
should  be  afraid  to  practice,  if  we  expected  in  a  few  hours  to  ap- 
pear before  that  holy  God,  to  give  an  account  of  ourselves  to  hiniy 
as  fearing  they  would  be  condemned  by  him  as  unlawful  and  im- 
pure. 

"  We  also  promise,  with  great  watchfulness,  to  perform  relative 
duties,  required  by  christian  rules,  in  the  families  we  belong  to,  as 
we  stand  related  respectively,  towards  parents  and  children,  hus- 
bands and  wives,  brothers  and  sisters,  masters  or  mistresses,  and 
servants. 

"  And  we  now  appear  before  God,  depending  on  divine  grace 


IG8  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

and  assistance,  solemnly  to  devote  our  whole  lives,  to  be  laboriously 
spent  in  the  business  of  religion  ;  ever  making  it  our  greatest  busi- 
ness, without  backsliding  from  such  a  way  of  living,  not  hearkening 
to  the  solicitations  of  our  sloth,  and  other  corrupt  inclinations,  or 
the  temptations  of  the  world,  that  tend  to  draw  ns  off  from  it;  and 
particularl}',  that  w^e  will  not  abuse  a  hope  or  opinion  that  any  of 
us  may  have,  of  our  behig  interested  in  Christ,  to  indulge  ourselves 
in  sloth,  or  the  more  easily  to  yield  to  the  solicitations  of  any  sinful 
inclinations ;  but  vnW  run  with  perseverance,  the  race  that  is  set 
before  us,  and  work  out  our  ovni  salvation  with  fear  and  tremb- 
ling. 

"  And  because  w^e  are  sensible  that  the  keeping  these  solemn 
vows  may  hereafter  in  many  cases,  be  very  contrary  to  our  corrupt 
inclinations,  and  carnal  interests,  we  do  now  therefore  appear  be- 
fore God  to  make  a  surrender  of  all  to  him,  and  to  make  a  sacrifice 
of  eveiy  carnal  inclination  and  interest,  to  the  great  business  of  re- 
ligion and  the  interest  of  our  souls. 

"And  being  sensible  of  our  weakness,  and  the  deceitfulness  of 
our  owTi  hearts,  and  our  proneness  to  forget  our  most  solemn  vows, 
and  lose  our  resolutions,  we  promise  to  be  often  strictly  examining 
ourselves  by  these  promises,  especially  before  the  sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper ;  and  beg  of  God  that  he  would,  for  Christ's  sake, 
keep  us  from  wickedly  dissembling  in  these  our  solemn  vows  ;  and 
that  he  who  searches  our  hearts,  and  ponders  the  path  of  our  feet, 
would,  from  time  to  time,  help  us  in  trying  ourselves  by  this  Cove- 
nant, and  help  us  to  keep  Covenant  with  him,  and  not  leave  us  to 
our  own  foolish,  v^dcked  and  treacherous  hearts.'' 

"In  the  beginning  of  the  summer  of  1742,  there  seemed  to  be 
an  abatement  of  the  hveliness  of  people's  affections  in  rehgion ; 
but  yet  many  w^ere  often  in  a  great  height  of  them.  And  in  the 
fall  and  winter  following,  there  were,  at  times,  extraordinary  ap- 
pearances. But  in  the  general,  people's  engagedness  in  religion, 
and  the  liveliness  of  their  affections,  have  been  on  the  decline:  and 
some  of  the  young  people  especially,  have  shamefully  lost  their 
liveliness  and  vigour  in  religion,  and  much  of  the  seriousness  and 
solemnity  of  their  spirits.  But  there  are  many  that  w^alk  as  be- 
cometh  saints ;  and  to  this  day  there  are  a  considerable  number  in 
town  that  seem  to  be  near  to  God,  and  maintain  much  of  the  life  of 
religion,  and  enjoy  many  of  the  sensible  tokens  and  fruits  of  his 
gracious  presence. 

"  With  respect  to  the  late  season  of  revival  of  religion  amongst 
us,  for  three  or  four  years  past,  it  has  been  observable,  that  in  the 
former  part  of  it,  in  the  years  1740  and  1741,  the  work  seemed  to 
be  much  more  pure,  having  less  of  a  corrupt  mixture,  than  in  the 
former  great  outpouring  of  the  Spirit,  in  1735  and  1736.  Per- 
sons seemed  to  be  sensible  of  their  former  errors,  and  had  learned 


LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS.  109 

more  of  their  own  hearts,  and  experience  had  taught  them  more 
of  the  tendency  and  consequences  of  things.  They  were  now 
better  guarded,  and  their  affections  w^ere  not  only  stronger,  but  at- 
tended with  greater  solemnity,  and  greater  humility  and  self  dis- 
trust, and  greater  engagedness  after  holy  living  and  perseverance ; 
and  there  were  fewer  errors  in  conduct.  But  in  the  latter  part  of 
it,  in  the  year  1742,  it  was  otherwise:  the  work  continued  more 
pure  till  we  were  infected  from  abroad :  Our  people  hearing  of,  and 
some  of  them  seeing,  the  work  in  other  places,  where  there  was 
a  greater  visible  commotion  than  here,  and  the  outward  appear- 
ances were  more  extraordinary^,  were  ready  to  think  that  the  work 
in  those  places  far  excelled  what  was  amongst  us,  and  their  eyes 
w^ere  dazzled  with  the  high  profession  and  great  show  tliat  some 
made,  who  came  hither  from  other  places. 

"  That  those  people  went  so  far  beyond  them  in  raptures  and 
violent  emotions  of  the  affections,  and  a  vehement  zeal,  and  what 
they  called  boldness  for  Christy  our  people  were  ready  to  think  was 
owing  to  far  greater  attainments  in  grace,  and  intimacy  with  heav- 
en :  they  looked  little  in  their  owti  eyes,  in  comparison  with  them, 
and  were  ready  to  submit  themselves  to  them,  and  yield  themselves 
up  to  their  conduct,  taking  it  for  granted,  that  every  thing  was  right 
that  tliey  said  and  did.  These  things  had  a  strange  influence  on 
the  people,  aiid  gave  many  of  them  a  deep  and  unhappy  tincture 
from  which  it  was  a  hard  and  long  labour  to  deliver  them,  and 
from  which  some  of  them  are  not  fully  delivered,  to  this  day. 

"The  effects  and  cowse^'Mence.s  of  things  among  us  plainly  show  the 
following  things,  viz.  That  the  degree  of  grace  is  by  no  means  to 
be  judged  of  by  the  degree  of  joy,  or  the  degree  of  zeal ;  and  that 
indeed  we  cannot  at  all  determine  by  these  things,  who  are  gracious 
and  who  are  not;  and  that  it  is  not  the  degree  of  religious  affec- 
tions, but  the  nature  of  them,  that  is  chiefly  to  be  looked  at.  Some 
that  have  had  very  great  raptures  of  joy,  and  have  been  extraor- 
dinarily filled,  (as  the  vulgar  phrase  is,)  and  have  had  their  bodies 
overcome,  and  that  very  often,  have  manifested  far  less  of  the  tem- 
per of  christians  in  their  conduct  since,  than  some  others  that  have 
been  still,  and  have  made  no  great  outward  show.  But  then  again, 
there  are  many  others,  that  have  had  extraordinary  joys  and  emo- 
tions of  mind,  with  frequent  great  effects  upon  their  bodies,  that 
behave  themselves  stedfastly,  as  humble,  amiable,  eminent  chris- 
tians. 

"  'Tis  evident  that  tliere  may  be  great  religious  affections  in  in- 
dividuals, which  may,  in  show  and  appearance,  resemble  gracious 
affections,  and  have  the  same  effects  upon  their  bodies,  but  are  far 
from  having  the  same  effect  on  the  temper  of  their  minds  and  the 
course  of  their  lives.  And  hkewise,  there  is  nothing  more  mani- 
fest, by  what  appears  amongst  us,  than  that  the  good  estate  of  indi- 
viduals is  not  chiefly  to  be  judged  of  by  any  exactness  of  steps, 

Vol.  I.  *  22 


170  LIFE    OF    PItESlDEM-    ilDWAKUS. 

and  method  of  experiences,  in  what  is  supposed  to  be  die  (irst 
conversion  ;  but  that  we  must  judge  by  the  spirit  that  breadies,  the 
effect  wTought  upon  the  temper  of  the  soul  in  the  time  of  the  work 
and  remaining  afterwards.  Though  there  have  been  veiy  few  in- 
stances among  professors,  amongst  us,  of  what  is  ordinarily  called 
scandalous  sins,  known  to  me ;  yet  the  temper  that  some  of  them 
show,  and  the  behaviour  they  have  been  of,  together  with  some 
things  in  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  their  experiences,  make 
me  much  afraid  least  there  be  a  considerable  number,  that  have 
wofully  deceived  themselves.  Though,  on  the  other  hand,  there 
is  a  great  number,  whose  temper  and  conversation  is  such,  as  justly 
confirms  the  charity  of  others  towards  them ;  and  not  a  few,  in 
whose  disposition  and  walk,  there  are  amiable  appearances  of  emi- 
nent grace.  And  notwithstanding  all  the  corrupt  mixtures  that 
have  been  in  the  late  work  here,  there  are  not  only  many  blessed 
fruits  of  it,  in  particular  persons  diat  yet  remain,  but  some  good 
effects  of  it  upon  the  town  in  general.  A  spirit  of  party  has  more 
extensively  subsided.  I  suppose  there  has  been  less  appearance, 
these  three  or  four  years  past,  of  that  division  of  the  town  into  two 
parties,  which  has  long  been  our  bane,  than  has  been,  at  any  time 
during  the  preceding  thirty  years ;  and  the  people  have  apparently 
had  much  more  caution,  and  a  greater  guard  on  their  spirit  and 
their  tongues,  to  avoid  contention  and  unchristian  heats,  in  town- 
meetings,  and  on  other  occasions.  And  'tis  a  thing  greatly  to  be 
rejoiced  in,  that  the  people  very  lately  came  to  an  agreement  and 
final  issue,  with  respect  to  their  grand  controversy  relating  to  their 
common  lands  ;  which  has  been,  above  any  other  particular  thing, 
a  source  of  mutual  prejudices,  jealousies  and  debates,  for  fifteen  or 
sixteen  years  past.  The  people  also  seem  to  be  much  more  sen- 
sible of  the  danger  of  resting  in  old  experiences,  or  what  they  w^ere 
subjects  of  at  their  supposed  first  conversion ;  and  to  be  more  fully 
convinced  of  the  necessity  of  forgetting  the  diings  that  are  behind, 
and  pressing  forward  and  maintaining  earnest  labour,  w^atchfulness 
arid  prayerfulness,  as  long  as  they  live. 
**  I  am,  Rev.  Sir, 

^'  Your  friend  and  brother, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 


CiUPTER  XIV. 

Mrs.  Edwards.— ^Her  solemn  self -dedications. ^-Her  Uncommon 
discoveries  of  the  Divine  Perfections  and.  Glory  ;  and  of  the  Ev- 
cellency  of  Christ. — Remarks  concerning  them. 

In  speaking  of  Mrs.  Edwards,  we  have  already  had  occasion  to 
remark,  that  her  piety  appears  to  have  been  in  no  ordinary  degree 
pure,  intense  and  elevated,  and  that  her  \dewg  of  spiritual  and  hea- 
venly things,  were  uncommonly  clear  and  joyful.  Near  the  close 
of  the  year  1738,  according  to  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Edwards,  she 
was  led,  under  an  uncommon  discovery  of  God's  excellency,  and 
in  an  high  exercise  of  love  to  God,  and  of  rest  and  joy  in  him,  to 
make  a  new  and  most  solemn  dedication  of  herself  to  his  service 
and  glory,  an  entire  renunciation  of  the  world,  and  a  resignation  of 
all  to  God.  After  this,  she  had  often  such  views  of  the  glory  of 
the  Divine  perfections,  and  of  Christ's  excellencies,  and  at  times, 
for  hours  together,  without  any  interruption,  that  she  was  over- 
whelmed, and  as  it  were  swallowed  up,  in  the  light  and  joy  of  the 
love  of  God.  In  the  summer  of  1740,  after  a  new  and  more  per- 
fect resignation  of  herself  to  God,  with  yet  greater  fervency,  her 
views  of  the  glory  of  God,  and  of  the  excellency  of  Christ,  became 
still  more  clear  and  transporting  ;  and  in  the  folloi^ung  winter,  after 
a  similar,  but  more  perfect  resignation  of  herself,  and  acceptance 
of  God  as  the  only  portion  and  happiness  of  her  soul,  God  appear- 
ed to  vouchsafe  to  her,  for  a  long  period,  a  degree  of  spiritual  light 
and  enjoyment,  which  seemed  to  be,  in  reality,  an  anticipation  of 
the  joys  of  the  heavenly  world.  There  was  so  much  that  was  un- 
usual and  striking  in  this  state  of  mind,  that  her  husband  requested 
her  to  draw  up  an  exact  statement  of  it ;  which,  having  been  pre- 
served, is  now  presented  to  the  reader. 

"On  Tuesday  night,  Jan.  19,  1742,"  observes  Mrs.  Edwards, 
"  I  felt  very  uneasy  and  unhappy,  at  my  being  so  low  in  grace.  I 
thought  I  vei^-  much  needed  help  from  God,  and  found  a  spirit  of 
earnestness  to  seek  help  of  him,  that  I  might  have  more  hohness. 
When  I  had  for  a  time  been  earnestly  wTestling  with  God  for  it,  I 
felt  within  myself  great  quietness  of  spirit,  unusual  submission  to 
God,  and  willingness  to  wait  upon  him,  with  respect  to  the  time  and 
manner  in  which  he  should  help  me,  and  wished  that  he  should 
take  his  own  time,  and  his  own  way,  to  do  it. 

"  The  next  morning,  I  found  a  degree  of  uneasiness  in  my  mind, 


172  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

at  Mr.  Edwards's  suggesting,  that  he  thought  I  had  failed  in  scmie 
measure  in  point  of  prudence,  in  some  conversation  I  had  with  Mr, 
Williams  of  Hadley,  the  day  before.  I  found,  that  it  seemed  to  be- 
reave me  of  the  quietness  and  calm  of  my  mind,  in  any  respect 
not  to  have  the  good  opinion  of  my  husband.  This,  I  much  dis- 
liked in  myself,  as  arguing  a  want  of  a  sufficient  rest  in  God,  and 
felt  a  disposition  to  fight  against  it,  and  look  to  God  for  his  help,  that 
I  might  have  a  more  full  and  entire  rest  in  him,  independent  of  all 
other  tilings.  I  continued  in  tliis  frame^  from  early  in  the  morning 
until  about  10  o'clock,  at  which  time  the  Rev.  INIr.  Reynolds  went 
to  prayer  in  the  family. 

"  I  had  before  this,  so  entirely  given  myself  up  to  God,  and  re- 
signed up  every  thing  into  his  hands,  that  I  bad,  for  a  long  tiine, 
felt  myself  quite  alone  in  the  world ;  so  that  the  peace  and  calm 
of  my  mind,  and  my  rest  in  God,  as  my  only  and  all  sufficient  hap- 
piness, seemed  sensibly  above  the  reach  of  disturbance  from  any 
tiling  but  these  two  :  1st.  My  own  good  name  and  fair  reputation 
among  men,  and  especially  the  esteem  and  just  treatment  of  the 
people  of  this  town ;  2dly.  And  more  especially,  the  esteem,  and 
love  and  kind  treatment  of  my  husband.  At  times,  indeed,  I  had 
seemed  to  be  considerably  elevated  above  the  influence  of  even 
these  things ;  yet  I  had  not  found  my  calm,  and  peace  and  rest  in 
God  so  sensibly,  fully  and  constantiy,  above  tiie  reach  of  disturb- 
ance from  them,  until  now. 

"  While  ^Ir.  Reynolds  was  at  prayer  in  the  fan:nly  this  morningy 
I  felt  an  earnest  desire  that,  in  calling  on  God,  he  should  say.  Fa- 
ther^ or  that  he  should  address  the  Almighty  under  that  appellation  : 
on  which  the  thought  turned  in  my  mind — Why  can  I  say.  Father  ? 
— Can  I  now  at  this  time,  with  the  confidence  of  a  child,  and  with- 
out the  least  misgiving  of  heart,  call  God  my  Father? — This 
brought  to  my  mind,  two  lines  of  Mr.  Erskine's  Soimet : 

"  I  see  him  lay  his  vengeance  by, 

"  And  smile  in  Jesus'  face," 

*'  I  was  tiius  deeply  sensible,  that  my  sins  did  loudly  call  for 
vengeance  ;  but  I  then  by  faith  saw  God  "  lay  his  vengeance  by, 
and  smile  in  Jesus'  face."  It  appeared  to  be  real  and  certain  that 
he  did  so.  I  had  not  tiie  least  doubt,  that  he  tiien  sweetly  smiled 
upon  me,  with  the  look  of  forgiveness  and  love,  having  laid  aside 
all  his  displeasure  towards  me,  for  Jesus'  sake ;  which  made  me 
feel  very  weak,  and  somewhat  faint. 

"  In  consequence  of  tliis,  I  felt  a  strong  desire  to  be  alone  with 
God,  to  go  to  him,  without  having  any  one  to  interrupt  the  silent 
and  soft  communion,  which  I  earnestly  desired  between  God  and 
my  own  soul ;  and  accordingly  withdrew  to  my  chamber.  It  should 
have  been  mentioned  that,  before  I  retired,  while  Mr.  Reynolds 
was  praying,  these  words,  in  Rom.  \iii.  34,  came  into  my  mind 
"  WTio  is  he.  that  condemneth;  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  ITJ 

that  is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  tvho  also 
maketh  intercession  for  us  f"*  as  well  as  the  following;  words,  "  Who 
shall  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ,''''  etc.;  which  occasioned 
great  sweetness  and  delight  in  my  soul.  But  when  I  was  alone, 
the  words  came  to  my  mind  with  far  greater  power  and  sweetness  ; 
upon  which  I  took  the  Bible,  and  read  the  words  to  the  end  of  the 
chapter,  when  they  were  impressed  on  my  heart  widi  vastly  great- 
er power  and  sweetness  still.  They  appeared  to  me  with  undoubt- 
ed certainty  as  the  words  of  God,  and  as  words  which  God  did 
pronounce  concerning  me.  I  had  no  more  doubt  of  it,  than  I  had 
of  my  being.  I  seemed  as  it  were  to  hear  the  great  God  proclaim- 
ing thus  to  the  w^orld  concerning  me ;  "  Who  shall  lay  any  thing 
to  thy  charge,''^  etc. ;  and  had  it  strongly  impressed  on  me,  how 
impossible  it  was  for  any  thing  in  heaven  or  earth,  in  this  world  or 
the  future,  ever  to  separate  me  from  the  love  of  God  which  was  in 
Christ  Jesus.  I  cannot  find  language  to  express,  how  certain  this 
appeared — the  everlasting  mountains  and  hills  were  but  shadows  to 
it.  My  safety,  and  happiness,  and  eternal  enjoyment  of  God's  im- 
mutable love,  seemed  as  durable  and  unchangeable  as  God  him- 
self. Melted  and  overcome  by  the  sweetness  of  this  assurance,  I 
fell  into  a  great  flow  of  tears,  and  could  not  forbear  weeping  aloud. 
It  appeared  certain  to  me  that  God  was  my  Father,  and  Christ  my 
Lord  and  Saviour,  that  he  was  mine  and  I  his.  Under  a  delight- 
ful sense  of  the  immediate  presence  and  love  of  God,  these  words 
seemed  to  come  over  and  over  in  my  mind,  "  My  God,  my  all ; 
my  God,  my  all."  The  presence  of  God  was  so  near,  and  so  real, 
that  I  seemed  scarcely  conscious  of  any  thing  else.  God  the  Fa- 
ther, and  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  seemed  as  distinct  persons,  both 
manifesting  their  inconceivable  loveliness,  and  mildness,  and  gen- 
tleness, and  their  great  and  immutable  love  to  me.  I  seemed  to 
be  taken  under  the  care  and  charge  of  my  God  and  Saviour,  in  an 
inexpressibly  endearing  manner ;  and  Christ  appeared  to  me  as  a 
mighty  Saviour,  under  the  character  of  the  Lion  of  the  Tribe  of 
Judah,  taking  my  heart,  with  all  its  corruptions,  under  his  care, 
and  putting  it  at  his  feet.  In  all  things,  which  concerned  me,  I 
felt  myself  safe  under  the  protection  of  the  Father  and  the  Sav- 
iour; w^ho  appeared  with  supreme  kindness  to  keep  a  record  of  ev- 
ery thing  that  I  did,  and  of  every  thing  that  was  done  to  me,  pure- 
ly for  my  good. 

"  The  peace  and  happiness,  which  I  hereupon  felt,  was  altogeth- 
er inexpressible.  It  seemed  to  be  that  wiiich  came  from  hea- 
ven; to  be  eternal  and  unchangeable.  I  seemed  to  be  lifted  above 
earth  and  hell,  out  of  the  reach  of  every  thing  here  below,  so  that  I 
could  look  on  all  the  rage  and  enmity  of  men  or  devils,  with  a  kind 
of  holy  indifference,  and  an  undisturbed  tranquility.  At  the  same 
time,  I  felt  compassion  and  love  for  all  mankind,  and  a  deep  abase- 
ment of  soul,  under  a  sense  of  my  own  unworthiness.     I  thought 


174  LltE    OF    PRKSIDF.NT    EDWARDS.      " 

of  the  ministers  who  were  in  the  house,  and  feh  willing  to  undergo 
any  lahour  and  self-denial,  if  they  would  but  come  to  tlie  help  of 
tiie  Lord.  I  also  felt  myself  more  perfectly  weaned  from  all  things 
here  below,  than  ever  before.  Tiie  whole  world,  with  all  its  en- 
joyments, and  all  its  troubles,  seemed  to  be  nothing  :— My  God  was 
my  all,  my  only  portion.  No  possible  sofFering  appeared  to  be 
worth  regarding  :  all  persecutions  and  torments  were  a  mere  no- 
thing. I  seemed  to  dwell  on  high,  and  the  place  of  defence  to  be 
the  munition  of  rocks. 

"  After  some  time,  the  two  evils  mentioned  above,  as  those 
which  I  should  have  been  least  able  to  bear,  came  to  my  mind — - 
the  ill  treatment  of  the  town^  and  the  ill  will  of  my  husband  ;  but 
now  I  was  carried  exceediiTgly  .  above  even  such  things  as  these, 
and  I  could  feel  that;  if  I  were  exposed  to  them  both,  they  would 
seem  comparatively  nothing.  There  was  then  a  deep  snow  on  the 
ground,  and  I  could  think  of  being  driven  from  my  home  into  the 
cold  and  snow,  of  being  chased  from  tlie  town  with  the  utmost  con- 
tempt and  malice,  and  of  being  left  to  perish  with  the  cold,  as  cast 
out  by  all  the  world,  with  perfect  calmness  and  serenity.  It  ap- 
peared to  me,  that  it  would  not  move  me,  or  in  the  least  disturb  the 
inexpressible  happiness  and  peace  of  my  soul.  My  mind  seemed 
as  much  above  all  such  things,  as  the  sun  is  above  the  earth. 

"  I  continued  in  a  very  sweet  and  lively  sense  of  divine  things, 
day  and  night,  sleeping  and  waking,  until  Saturday,  Jan.  23.  On 
Saturday  morning,  I  had  a  most  solemn  and  deep  impression  on  my 
mind  of  the  eye  of  God  as  fixed  upon  me,  to  observe  what  im- 
provement I  made  of  those  spiritual  communications  I  had  received 
from  him  ;  as  well  as  of  the  respect  shown  Mr.  Edwards,  who  had 
then  been  sent  for  to  preach  at  Leicester.  I  was  sensible  that  I 
was  sinful  enough  to  bestow  it  on  my  pride,  or  on  my  sloth,  which 
seemed  exceedingly  dreadful  to  me.  At  night,  my  soul  seemed  to 
be  filled  with  an  inexpressibly  sweet  and  pure  love  to  God,  and  to 
the  children  of  God ;  with  a  refreshing  consolation  and  solace  of 
soul,  which  made  me  willing  to  lie  on  the  earth,  at  the  feet  of  the 
servants  of  God,  to  declare  his  gracious  dealings  with  me,  and 
breathe  forth  before  them  my  love,  and  gratitude  and  praise. 

"  The  next  day,  which  was  the  Sabbath,  I  enjoyed  a  sweet,  and 
lively  and  assured  sense  of  God's  infinite  grace,  and  favour  and 
love  to  me,  in  taking  me  out  of  the  depths  of  hell,  and  exalting  me 
to  the  heavenly  glory,  and  the  dignity  of  a  royal  priesthood. 

"  On  Monday  night,  Mr.  Edwards,  being  gone  that  day  to  Lei- 
cester, I  heard  that  Mr.  Buell  was  coming  to  this  town,  and  from 
wiiat  I  had  heard  of  him,  and  of  his  success,  I  had  strong  hopes 
that  there  w^ould  be  great  effects  from  his  labours  here.  At  the 
same  time,  I  had  a  deep  and  affecting  impression,  that  the  eye  of 
God  was  ever  upon  my  heart,  and  that  it  greatly  concerned  me 
to  watch  my  heart,    and   see  to  it  that  I  was   perfectly  resign- 


l,iVK    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAUDS.  175 

«d  to  God,  with  respect  to  the  instruments  he  should  inakc  use 
of  to  revive  religion  in  this  town,  and  be  entirely  willinn;,  if  it  was 
God's  pleasure,  that  he  should  make  use  of  Mr.  Buel;  and  also 
that  otlier  christians  should  appear  to  excel  me  in  christian  experi- 
ence, and  in  the  benefit  they  should  derive  from  ministers.  1  was 
conscious,  that  it  would  be  exceedingly  provoking  to  God  if  I 
should  not  be  thus  resigned,  and  earnestly  endeavoured  to  watch 
my  heart,  that  no  feelings  of  a  contrary  nature  might  arise  ;  and 
was  enabled,  as  I  thought,  to  exercise  full  resignation,  and  acquies- 
cence in  God's  pleasure,  as  to  these  things.  I  was  sensible  what 
great  cause  I  had  to  bless  God,  for  the  use  he  had  made  of  J\h'. 
Edwards  hitherto ;  but  thought,  if  he  never  blessed  his  labours 
any  more,  and  should  greatly  bless  the  labours  of  other  ministers, 
1  could  entirely  acquiesce  in  his  will.  It  appeared  to  me  meet 
and  proper,  that  God  should  employ  babes  and  sucklings  to  ad- 
vance his  kingdom.  When  I  thought  of  these  things,  it  was  my 
instmctive  feeling  to  say,  "  Amen,  Lord  Jesus  !  Amen,  Lord  Je- 
sus !"  This  seemed  to  be  the  sweet  and  instinctive  language  of 
my  soul. 

"  On  Tuesday,  I  remained  in  a  sweet  and  lively  exercise  of  this 
resignation,  and  love  to  and  rest  in  God,  seeming  to  be  in  my  heart 
from  day  to  day,  far  above  the  reach  of  every  thing  here  below. 
On  Tuesday  night,  especially  the  latter  part  of  it,  I  felt  a  great 
earnestness  of  soul  and  engagedness  in  seeking  God  for  the  town, 
that  religion  might  now  revive,  and  that  God  would  bless  Mr. 
Buell  to  that  end.  God  seemed  to  be  very  near  to  me  while  I  was 
thus  striving  with  him  for  these  things,  and  I  had  a  strong  hope 
that  what  I  sought  of  him  would  be  granted.  There  seemed  na- 
turally and  unavoidably  to  arise  in  my  mind  an  assurance,  that  now 
God  would  do  great  things  for  Northampton. 

On  Wednesday  morning,  I  heard  that  Mr.  Buell  arrived  the 
night  before  at  Mr.  Phelps's,  and  that  there  seemed  to  be  great 
tokens  and  effects  of  the  presence  of  God  there,  which  greatly  en- 
couraged, and  rejoiced  me.  About  an  hour  and  a  half  after,  Mr. 
Buell  came  to  our  house,  I  sat  still  in  entire  resignedness  to  God, 
and  willingness  that  God  should  bless  his  labours  here  as  much  as 
he  pleased  ;  though  it  were  to  the  enlivening  of  every  saint,  and 
to  the  conversion  of  every  sinner,  in  the  town.  These  feelings 
continued  afterwards,  when  I  saw  liis  great  success  ;  as  I  never  felt 
the  least  rising  of  heart  to  the  contrary,  but  my  submission  was 
even  and  uniform,  witliout  interruption  or  disturbance.  I  rejoiced 
when  I  saw  the  honour  w^hich  God  put  upon  him,  and  the  respect 
paid  him  by  the  people,  and  the  greater  success  attending  his 
preaching,  than  had  followed  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Edwards  imme- 
diately before  he  went  to  Leicester.  I  found  rest  and  rejoicing  in 
it,  and  the  sweet  language  of  my  soul  continually  was,  "  Amen, 
Lord  Jesus !  Amen,  Lord  Jesus  !" 


176  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  At  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  a  lecture  was  preached  by  Mr. 
Buell.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  sermon,  one  or  two  appeared 
much  moved,  and  after  the  blessing,  when  the  people  were  going 
out,  several  others.  To  my  mind  there  was  the  clearest  evidence, 
that  God  w^as  present  in  the  congregation,  on  the  work  of  redeem- 
ing love  ;  and  in  the  clear  view  of  this,  I  was  all  at  once  filled  with 
such  intense  admiration  of  the  wonderful  condescension  and  grace 
of  God,  in  returning  again  to  Northampton,  as  overwhelmed  my 
soul,  and  immediately  took  away  my  bodily  strength.  This  was 
accompanied  with  an  earnest  longing,  that  those  of  us,  who  were 
the  children  of  God,  might  now  arise  and  strive.  It  appeared  to 
me,  that  the  angels  m  heaven  sung  praises,  for  such  wonderful,  free 
and  sovereign  grace,  and  my  heart  was  lifted  up  in  adoration  and 
praise.  I  continued  to  have  clear  \aews  of  the  future  world,  of 
eternal  happiness  and  misery,  and  my  heart  full  of  love  to  the  souls 
of  men.  On  seeing  some,  that  I  found  were  in  a  natural  condi- 
tion, I  felt  a  most  tender  compassion  for  them ;  but  especially  w^as 
I,  while  I  remained  in  the  meeting-house,  from  time  to  time  over- 
come, and  my  strength  taken  away,  by  the  sight  of  one  and  ano- 
tlier,  whom  I  regarded  as  the  children  of  God,  and  who,  I  had 
heard  were  lively  and  animated  in  religion.  We  remained  in  the 
meeting-house  about  three  hours,  after  the  public  exercises  were 
over.  During  most  of  the  time,  my  bodily  strength  was  overcome; 
and  the  joy  and  thankfulness,  wiiich  were  excited  in  my  mind,  as  1 
contemplated  the  great  goodness  of  God,  led  me  to  converse  with 
tliose  who  were  near  me,  in  a  very  earnest  manner. 

"  When  I  came  home,  I  found  Mr.  Buell,  Mr.  Christophers,  Mr. 
Hopkins,  Mrs.  Eleanor  Dwight,  the  wife  of  Mr.  Joseph  Allen,  and 
Mr.  Job  Strong,  at  the  house.  Seeing  and  conversing  with  them 
on  the  Divine  goodness,  renewed  my  former  feelings,  and  filled 
me  with  an  intense  desire  that  we  might  all  arise,  and,  with  an  ac- 
tive, flowing  and  fervent  heart,  give  glory  to  God.  The  intense- 
ness  of  my  feelings  again  took  away  my  bodily  strength.  The 
words  of  one  of  Dr.  Watts's  Hosannas  powerfully  affected  me  ; 
and,  in  the  course  of  the  conversation,  I  uttered  them,  as  the  real 
language  of  my  heart,  with  great  earnestness  and  emotion. 

"  Hosanna  to  King  David''s  Son, 

"  Who  reigns  on  a  superior  throne,"  &zc. 

And  while  I  was  uttermg  the  words,  my  mind  was  so  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  love  of  Christ,  and  a  sense  of  his  immediate  pre- 
sence, that  I  could  with  difficulty  refrain  from  rising  from  my  seat, 
and  leaping  for  joy.  I  continued  to  enjoy  this  intense,  and  lively 
and  refreshing  sense  of  Divine  things,  accompanied  with  strong 
emotions,  for  nearly  an  hour ;  after  which,  I  experienced  a  de- 
lightful calm,  and  peace  and  rest  in  God,  until  I  refired  for  the 
night ;  and  during  the  night,  both  waking  and  sleeping,  I  had  joyful 
views  of  Divine  things,  and  a  complacential  rest  of  soul  in  God.    I 


LflE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  17*7 

awoke  in  the  morning  of  Thursday,  June  28th,  in  the  same  happy 
frame  of  mind,  and  engaged  in  the  duties  of  my  family  witli  a  sweet 
consciousness,  that  God  was  present  with  me,  and  with  earnest 
longngs  of  soul  for  the  continuance,  and  increase,  of  the  blessed 
fruits  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  town.  About  mne  o'clock,  these 
desires  became  so  exceedingly  intense,  when  I  saw  numbers  of  the 
people  coming  into  the  house,  with  an  appearance  of  deep  interest 
in  religion,  that  my  bodily  strength  was  much  weakened,  and  it  was 
■with  difficulty  that  I  could  pursue  my  ordinary  avocations.  About 
1 1  o'clock,  as  I  accidentally  went  into  the  room  wh^re  IMr.  Buell 
was  conversing  with  some  of  the  people,  I  heard  him  say,  "  O  that 
we,  who  are  the  childj'en  of  God,  should  be  cold  and  lifeless  in  re- 
ligion !"  and  I  felt  such  a  sense  of  the  deep  ingratitude  manifested 
by  the  children  of  God,  in  such  coldness 'and  deadness,  that  my 
strength  was  immediately  taken  away,  and  I  sunk  down  on  the  spot. 
Those  who  were  near  raised  me,  and  placed  me  in  a  chair ;  and, 
from  the  fulness  of  my  heart,  I  expressed  to  them,  in  a  very  ear- 
nest manner,  the  deep  sense  I  had  of  the  v\-onderful  grace  of  Christ 
towards  me,  of  the  assurance  I  had  of  his  having  saved  me  from 
hell,  of  my  happiness  running  parallel  with  eternity,  of  the  duty  of 
giving  up  all  to  God,  and  of  the  peace  and  joy  inspired  by  an  en- 
tire dependence  on  his  mercy  and  grace.  Mr.  Buell  then  read  a 
melting  hymn  of  Dr.  Watts,^  concerning  the  loveliness  of  Christ, 
the  enjoyments  and  employments  of  heaven,  and  the  christian's 
earnest  desire  of  heavenly  things ;  and  the  truth  and  reality  oi  the 
things  mentioned  in  the  hymn,  made  so  strong  an  impression  on 
my  mind,  and  my  soul  was  dra^vn  so  powerfully  towards  Christ 
and  heaven,  that  I  leaped  unconsciously  from  my  chair.  I  seemed 
to  be  drawn  upwards,  soul  and  body,  from  the  earth  towards  hea- 
ven ;  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  I  must  naturally  and  necessarily 
ascend  thither.  These  feelings  continued  while  the  hymn  was 
reading,  and  during  the  prayer  of  Mr.  Christophers,  which  follow- 
ed. After  the  prayer,  Mr.  Buell  read  two  other  hymns,  on  the 
glories  of  heaven,  which  moved  me  so  exceedingly,  and  drew  me 
so  strongly  heavenward,  that  it  seemed  as  it  were  to  draw  my  bo- 
dy upwards,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  must  necessarily  ascend  thither.  At 
length  my  strength  failed  me,  and  I  sunk  down ;  when  they  took 
me  up  and  laid  me  on  the  bed,  where  I  lay  for  a  considerable  time, 
faint  with  joy,  while  contemplating  the  glories  of  the  heavenly 
world.  After  I  had  lain  a  while,  I  felt  more  perfectly  subdued 
and  weaned  from  the  world,  and  more  fully  resigned  to  God,  than 
I  had  ever  been  conscious  of  before.  I  felt  an  entire  indifference 
to  the  opinions,  and  representations  and  conduct  of  mankind  res- 

^  Probably  the  91st  Hymn  of  the  2d  Book,  beginning  with 

"  O  the  delights,  the  heavenly  joys. 
"  The  glories  of  the  place. 

Vol.  I.  23 


178  LIFE    OF    PRESIDiTNT    EDWAllDs, 

pecting  me ;  and  a  perfect  willingiiessj  that  God  should  emploj 
some  other  instrument  than  Mr.  Edwards,  in  advancing  the  work 
of  grace  in  Northampton.  I  was  entirely  swallowed  up  in  God,  as 
my  only  portion,  and  his  honour  and  glory  was  the  object  of  my 
supreme  desire  and  delight.  At  the  same  time,  I  felt  a  far  great- 
er love  to  the  children  of  God,  than  ever  before.  I  seemed  to  love 
them  as  my  ovv'n  soul ;  and  when  I  saw  them,  my  heart  went  out 
towards  thejn,  with  an  inexpressible  endearedness  and  sw^eetness, 
I  beheld  them  by  taith  in  their  risen  and  glorified  state,  with  spir- 
itual bodies  re-fjshioned  after  the  image  of  Christ's  glorious  body^ 
and  arrayed  in  the  beauty  of  heaven.  The  time  when  they  would 
be  so,  appeared  very  near,  and  by  faith  it  seemed  as  if  it  were 
present.  This  was  accompanied  with  a  ravishing  sense  of  the  un- 
speakable joys  of  the  upper  world.  They  appeared  to  my  mind 
in  all  their  reality  and  certanity,  and  as  it  were  in  actual  and  dis- 
tinct vision  ;  so  plain  and  evident  w^ere  they  to  the  eye  of  my  faith,. 
I  seemed  to  regard  them  as  begun.  These  anticipations  were  re- 
newed over  and  over,  while  I  lay  on  the  bed,  from  twelve  o'clock 
till  four,  being  too  much  exhau.sted  by  emotions  of  joy,  to  rise  and 
sit  up  ;  and  during  most  of  the  time,  my  feelings  prompted  me  to  con- 
verse very  earnestly,  with  one  and  another  of  the  pious  women^ 
who  were  present,  on  those  spiritual  and  heavenly  objects,  of  which 
I  had  so  deep  an  impression.  A  little  w^hile  before  I  arose,  Mr. 
Buell  and  the  people  went  to  meeting. 

"  I  continued  in  a  sweet  and  lively  sense  of  Divine  things,  untfl 
I  retired  to  rest.  That  night,  which  was  Thursday  night,  Jan.  28, 
was  the  sweetest  night  I  ever  had  in  my  Hfe.  I  never  before,  for 
so  long  a  time  together,  enjoyed  so  much  of  the  light,  and  rest  and 
sweetness  of  heaven  in  my  soul,  but  without  the  least  agitation  of 
body  during  the  whole  time.  The  great  part  of  the  night  I  lay  a- 
wake,  sometimes  asleep,  and  sometimes  between  sleeping  and  wak- 
ing. But  all  night  I  continued  in  a  constant,  clear  and  lively  sense 
of  the  heavenly  sweetness  of  Christ's  excellent  and  transcendent 
love,  of  his  nearness  to  me,  and  of  my  dearness  to  him ;  wath  an 
inexpressibly  sweet  calmness  of  soul  in  an  entire  rest  in  him.  I 
seemed  to  myself  to  perceive  a  glow  of  divine  love  come  down 
from  the  heart  of  Christ  in  heaven,  into  my  heart,  in  a  constant 
stream,  like  a  stream  or  pencil  of  sweet  light.  At  the  same  time, 
my  heart  and  soul  all  flowed  out  in  love  to  Christ ;  so  that  there 
seemed  to  be  a  constant  flowing  and  reflowing  of  heavenly  and  di- 
vine love,  from  Christ's  heart  to  mine  ;  and  I  appeared  to  myself 
to  float  or  swim,  in  these  bright,  sweet  beams  of  the  love  of  Christ, 
like  the  motes  swimming  in  the  beams  of  the  sun,  or  the  streams  of 
his  light  which  come  in  at  the  window.  My  soul  remained  in  a 
kind  of  heavenly  elysium.  So  far  as  I  am  capable  of  making  a 
comparison,  I  think  that  what  I  felt  each  minute,  during  the  con  - 
tinuance  of  the  whole  time,  w^as  worth  more  than  all  the  outward 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  179 

♦X)mfort  and  pleasure,  which  I  liad  enjoyed  in  my  whole  life  put  to- 
gether. It  was  a  pure  delight,  which  fed  and  satisfied  the  soul.  It 
was  pleasure,  without  the  least  sting,  or  any  interruption.  It  was  a 
sweetness,  which  my  soul  was  lost  in.  It  seemed  to  be  all  that  my 
feeble  frame  could  sustain,  of  that  fulness  of  joy,  which  is  felt  by 
those,  who  behold  the  face  of  Christ,  and  share  his  love  in  the 
heavenly  world.  There  was  but  little  difference,  whether  I  was 
asleep  or  awake,  so  deep  was  the  impression  made  on  my  soul ; 
but  if  there  was  any  difference,  the  sweetness  was  greatest  and  most 
uninterrupted,  w^hile  I  was  asleep. 

"  As  I  awoke  early  the  next  morning,  which  was  Friday,  I  was 
led  to  tliink  of  IVIr.  Williams  of  Hadley  preaching  that  day  in  the 
town,  as  had  been  appointed  ;  and  to  examine  my  heart,  w^iether  I 
w^as  willing  that  he,  who  was  a  neighbouring  minister,  should  be 
extraordinarily  blessed,  and  made  a  greater  instrument  of  good  in 
the  town,  than  Mr.  Edwards ;  and  was  enabled  to  say,  with  res- 
pect to  that  matter,  "  Amen,  Lord  Jesus  !"  and  to  be  entirely  wil- 
ling, if  God  pleased,  that  he  should  be  the  instrument  of  converting 
every  soul  in  the  town.  My  soul  acquiesced  fully  in  the  will  of 
God,  as  to  tlie  instrument,  if  liis  work  of  renewing  grace  did  but 
goon,        _ 

"  This  lively  sense  of  the  beauty  and  excellency  of  divine  things, 
condnued  during  the  morning,  accompanied  with  peculiar  sweet- 
ness and  delight.  To  my  own  imagination,  my  soul  seemed  to  be 
gone  out  of  me  to  God  and  Christ  in  heaven,  and  to  have  very  ht- 
tle  relation  to  my  body.  God  and  Christ  were  so  present  to  me, 
and  so  near  me,  that  I  seemed  removed  from  myself.  The  spir- 
itual beauty  of  the  Father  and  the  Saviour,  seemed  to  engross  my 
■whole  mind  ;  and  it  was  the  instinctive  feeling  of  my  heart,  "  Thou 
art ;  and  there  is  none  beside  thee."  I  never  felt  such  an  entire 
emptiness  of  self-love,  or  any  regard  to  any  private,  selfish  interest 
of  my  own.  It  seemed  to  me,  that  I  had  entirely  done  with  my- 
self. I  felt  that  the  opinions  of  the  world  concerning  me  were  no- 
thing, and  that  I  had  no  more  to  do  with  any  outward  interest  of 
my  own,  than  with  that  of  a  person  whom  I  never  saw.  The  glo- 
ry of  God  seemed  to  be  all,  and  in  ail,  and  to  swallow  up  every 
%\ish  and  desire  of  my  heart. 

"Mr.  Sheldon  came  into  the  house  about  10  o'clock,  and  said 
to  me  as  he  came  in,  "  The  Sun  of  righteousness  arose  on  my  soul 
this  morning,  before  day  ;"  upon  which  I  said  to  him  in  reply, 
*'  That  Sun  has  not  set  upon  my  soul  all  this  night;  I  have  dwelt  on 
high  in  the  heavenly  mansions  ;  the  light  of  divine  love  hos  sur- 
rounded me  ;  my  soul  has  been  lost  in  God,  and  has  almost  left 
the  body."  This  conversation  only  served  to  give  me  a  still  live- 
lier sense  of  the  reality  and  excellence  of  divine  things,  and  t'ticit  to 
such  a  degree,  as  igain  to  take  away  my  strength,  and  orci-sion 
great  agitation  of  body.     So  strong  were  my  feelings,  I  could  not 


180  LIFE    OF    FKIISIDENT    EDWAKJDS. 

refrain  from  conversing  with  those  around  me,  in  a  very  eaniest 
manner,  for  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  on  the  infinite  riches  of 
divine  love  in  the  work  of  sahTition  :  when,  my  strength  entirely 
tailing,  my  flesh  grew  very  cold,  and  they  carried  me  and  set  me 
by  the  fire.  As  I  sat  there,  I  had  a  most  affecting  sense  of  the 
mighty  power  of  Christ,  which  had  been  exerted  in  what  he  had 
done  for  my  soul,  and  in  sustaining  and  keeping  down  the  native 
coiTiiptions  oi  my  heart,  and  of-  the  glorious  and  wonderful  grace 
ot  God  m  causing  the  ark  to  return  to  Nortliampton.  So  intense 
were  my  feelings,  when  speaking  of  these  things,  that  I  could  not 
forbear  rising  up  and  leaping  with  joy  and  exultation.  I  felt  at  the 
same  time  an  exceedingly  strong  and  tender  affection  for  the  chil- 
dren of  God,  and  realized,  in  a  manner  exceedingly  sweet  and 
ravishing,  the  meaning  of  Christ's  prayer,  in  John  xvii.  21,  "  That 
they  cdl  may  he  one,  as  thou  Father  art  in  me,  and  I  in  thee,  that 
they  also  may  be  one  in  us.^^  This  union  appeared  to  me  an  in- 
conceivable, excellent  and  sweet  oneness  ;  and  at  the  same  time  1 
felt  that  oneness  in  my  soul,  witli  the  children  of  God  who  were 
present.  Mr.  Christophers  then  read  the  hymn  cut  of  the  Peni- 
tential Cries,  beginning  with 

"  My  soul  doth  magnify  the  Lord, 
"  My  spirit  doth  rejoice  ;" 

The  whole  hMiin  was  deeply  affecting  to  my  feelings  :  but  when 
these  words  vrere  read, 

"  My  sighs  at  lentrth  are  turn'd  to  songs, 
"  The  Coiiiforler  ie  coaic  :" — 

So  conscious  was  I  of  the  joyful  presence  of  the  holy  Spirit,  I  could 
scarcely  refrain  from  leaping  \a  ith  transports  of  joy.  This  happy  frame 
of  mind  continued  until  two  o'clock,  when  My.  Williams  came  in, 
rnd  we  soon  went  to  meeting.  He  preached  on  the  subject  of  the 
8?sin-ance  of  faith.  The  whole  sermon  was  affecting  to  me,  but 
especially  when  he  came  to  show  the  way  in  which  assurroice  was 
obtained,  and  to  point  out  its  happy  fruits.  When  I  heard  him 
say,  that  those,  ivho  have  assvrance,  have  a  foretaste  of  heavenly 
s:lory,  I  knev,'  tiie  truth  of  it  from  what  I  then  felt :  I  knew  that  1 
then  tasted  the  clusters  of  the  heavenly  Canaan  :  My  soul  was  filled 
and  overwhelmed  v\iih  light,  and  love,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  seemed  just  ready  to  go  avvay  from  the  body.  I  could  scarce- 
Iv  refrain  from  expresshig  my  joy  aloud,  in  the  midst  of  the  ser- 
vice. I  had  in  the  mean  time,  an  ovendielming  sense  of  the  glory 
of  God,  as  the  Great  Eternal  Ail,  and  of  the  happiness  of  having 
my  own  will  entirely  subdued  to  his  will.  I  knew  that  the  fore- 
taste of  glory,  which  I  then  had  in  my  soul,  came  from  him,  that  I 
certainly  should  go  to  him,  and  should,  as  it  were,  drop  into  the 
Divine  Being,  and  be  swallowed  up  m  God. 


LlfE    ©F    PRESIDENT    EDWAKBh.  181 

"  After  meeting  was  done,  the  congregation  waited  while  Mr. 
Buell  went  home,  to  prepare  to  give  them  a  Lecture.  It  was  al- 
most  dark  before  he  came  ,  and,  in  the  mean  time,  I  conversed  in 
a  veiy  earnest  and  joyful  manner,  with  those  who  were  with  me  in 
the  pew.  My  mind  dwelt  on  the  thought,  that  the  Lord  God  Om- 
nipotent reigneth,  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  he  was  going  to  set 
up  a  Reign  of  Love  on  the  earth,  and  that  heaven  and  earth  were, 
as  it  were,  coming  together  ;  which  so  exceedingly  moved  me  that 
I  could  not  forbear  expressing  aloud,  to  those  near  me,  my  exulta- 
tion of  soul.  This  subsided  into  a  heavenly  calm,  and  a  rest  of 
soul  in  God,  which  was  even  sweeter  than  what  preceded  it.  Af- 
terwards, Mr.  Buell  came  and  preached  ;  and  the  same  happy 
frame  of  mind  continued  during  the  evening,  and  night,  and  the 
next  day.  In  the  forenoon,  I  was  thinking  of  the  manner  in  which 
the  children  of  God  had  been  treated  in  the  world — particularly  of 
their  being  shut  up  in  prison — and  the  folly  of  such  attempts  to 
make  them  miserable,  seemed  to  surprise  me.  It  appeared  aston- 
ishing, that  men  should  think,  by  tliis  means,  to  injure  those  who 
had  such  a  kingdom  wdthin  them.     Towards  night,  being  informed 

that  Mrs.  P had  expressed  her  fears  least  I  should  die  before 

Mr.  Edwards'  return,  and  he  should  think  the  people  had  killed 
his  wife  ;  I  told  those  who  were  present,  that  I  chose  to  die  in  the 
way  that  vras  most  agreeable  to  God's  will,  and  that  I  should  be 
willing  to  die  in  darkness  and  horror,  if  it  was  most  for  the  glory  of 
God. 

"  In  the  evening,  I  read  those  chapters  in  John,  which  contain 
Christ's  dpng  discourse  with  his  disciples,  and  his  prayer  vrith 
them.  After  I  had  done  reading,  and  was  in  my  retirement,  a 
little  before  bed-time,  thinking  on  what  I  had  read,  my  soul  was  so 
filled  with  love  to  Christ,  and  love  to  his  people,  that  I  fainted 
under  the  intenseness  of  the  feeling.  I  felt,  v.hile  reading,  a  de- 
lightful acquiescence  in  tlie  petition  to  the  Fatlier — "/  pray  not 
that  thou  shov.Jdst  take  them  out  of  the  ivorld,  but  that  thou  shouhlst 
keep  them  from  the  eviiy  Though  it  seemed  to  me  infinitely  bet- 
ter to  die  to  go  to  Christ,  yet  I  felt  an  entire  willingness  to  continue 
in  this  world  so  long  as  God  pleased,  to  do  and  sufier  what  he 
would  have  me. 

"  After  retiring  to  rest  and  sleeping  a  little  while,  I  awoke  and 
had  a  very  lively  consciousness  of  God's  being  near  me.  I  Ijad  an 
idea  of  a  shining  way,  or  path  of  light,  between  heaven  and  my 
soul,  somewhat  as  on  Thursday  night,  except  that  God  seemed 
nearer  to  me,  and  as  it  were  close  by,  and  the  way  seemed  more 
open,  and  the  communication  more  immediate  and  more  free.  I 
lay  awake  most  of  the  night,  ^^ith  a  constant  delightful  sense  of 
God's  great  love  and  infinite  condescension,  and  with  a  continual 
\iew  of  God  as  near,  and  as  my  God.  My  soul  remained,  as  on 
Thursday  night,  in  a  kind  of  heavenly  elysium.     Whether  waking 


1B2  LirE  OF  PRESIi)EN'r  EDV^ARJtoS. 

or  sleeping,  there  was  no  interruption,  throughout  the  night,  to  the 
views  of  my  soul,  to  its  heavenly  light,  and  divine,  inexpressible 
sweetness.  It  was  without  any  agitation  or  motion  of  the  body. 
I  was  led  to  reflect  on  God's  mercy  to  me,  in  giving  me,  for  many 
years,  a  willingness  to  die  ;  and  after  that,  for  more  than  two  years 
past,  in  making  me  v^illing  to  live,  that  I  might  do  and  suffer  what- 
ever he  called  me  to  here  ;  whereas,  before  that,  I  often  used  to 
feel  impatient  at  the  thought  of  living.  Tliis  then  appeared  to  me, 
as  it  had  often  done  before,  what  gave  me  much  the  greatest  sense 
of  thankfulness  to  God.  I  also  tliought  how  God  had  graciously 
given  me,  for  a  great  while,  an  entire  resignation  to  his  will,  with 
respect  to  the  kind  and  manner  of  death  that  I  should  die  ;  having 
been  made  willing  to  die  on  the  rack,  or  at  the  stake,  or  any  other 
tormenting  death,  and,  if  it  were  God's  will,  to  die  in  darkness : 
and  how  I  had  that  day  been  made  very  sensible  and  fully  willing, 
if  it  was  God's  pleasure  and  for  his  glory,  to  die  in  horror.  But 
now  it  occurred  to  me,  that  when  I  had  thus  been  made  willing  to 
live,  and  to  be  kept  on  this  dark  abode,  I  used  to  think  of  living  no 
longer  than  to  the  ordinary  age  of  man.  Upon  this  I  was  led  to 
ask  myself.  Whether  I  was  not  willing  to  be  kept  out  of  heaven 
even  longer  ;  and  my  whole  heart  seemed  immediately  to  reply, 
"  Yes,  a  thousand  years,  if  it  be  God's  will,  and  for  his  honour  and 
glory  :"  and  then  my  heart,  in  the  language  of  resignation,  went 
further,  and  with  great  alacrity  and  sweetness,  to  answer  as  it  were 
over  and  over  again,  "  Yes,  and  hve  a  thousand  years  in  horror,  if 
it  be  most  for  the  glor^^  of  God :  yea,  I  am  willing  to  live  a  thou- 
sand years  an  hell  upon  earth,  if  it  be  most  for  the  honour  of  God." 
But  then  I  considered  with  myself.  What  this  would  be,  to  live  an 
hell  upon  earth,  for  so  long  a  time  ;  and  I  thought  of  the  torment 
of  my  body  being  so  great,  awful  and  overwhelming,  that  none 
could  bear  to  live  in  the  country  where  the  spectacle  was  seen,, 
and  of  the  torment  and  horror  of  my  mind  being  vastly  greater 
than  the  torment  of  my  body ;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  I  found  a 
perfect  willingness,  and  sweet  quietness  and  alacrity  of  soul,  in 
consenting  that  it  should  be  so,  if  it  were  most  for  the  glory  of  God ; 
so  that  there  was  no  hesitation,  doubt  or  darkness  in  my  mind,  at- 
tending the  thoughts  of  it,  but  my  resignation  seemed  to  be  clear, 
like  a  light  that  shone  through  my  soul.  I  continued  saying,  "  A- 
men,  Lord  Jesus !  Amen,  Lord  Jesus  !  glorify  tliyself  in  me,  m  my 
body  and  my  soul," — with  a  calm  and  sweetness  of  soul,  which 
banished  all  reluctance.  The  glory  of  God  seemed  to  overcome 
me  and  swallow  me  up,  and  every  conceivable  suffering,  and  every 
thing  that  was  terrible  to  my  nature,  seemed  to  shrink  to  nothing  be- 
fore it.  This  resignation  continued  in  its  clearness  and  brightness  the 
rest  of  the  night,  and  all  the  next  day,  and  the  night  following,  and  on 
^Monday  in  the  forenoon,  without  interruption  or  abatement.  All 
this  while,  whenever  I  thought  of  it,  the  language  of  my  soul  was. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARUa.  183 

mth  the  greatest  fullness  and  alacrity,  "  Amen,  Lord  Jesus !  A- 
mea,  Lord  Jesus  !"  In  the  afternoon  of  Monday,  it  was  not  quite 
so  perceptible  and  lively,  but  my  mind  remained  so  much  in  a  smii- 
lar  Irame,  for  more  than  a  week,  that  I  could  never  think  of  it 
without  an  inexpressible  sweetness  in  my  soul. 

"  After  I  had  felt  this  resignation  on  Saturday  night,  for  some 
time  as  I  lay  in  bed,  I  felt  such  a  disposition  to  rejoice  in  God,  that 
I  wished  to  have  the  world  join  me  in  praising  him  ;  and  was  ready 
to  wonder  how^  the  world  of  mankind  could  He  and  sleep,  when 
there  was  such  a  God  to  praise,  and  rejoice  in,  and  could  scarcely 
forbear  calling  out  to  those  who  were  asleep  in  the  house,  to  arise, 
and  rejoice,  and  praise  God.  When  I  arose  on  the  morning  of  the 
Sabbath,  I  felt  a  love  to  all  mankind,  wholly  peculiar  in  its  strength 
and  sweetness,  far  beyond  all  that  I  had  ever  felt  before.  The 
power  of  that  love  seemed  to  be  inexpressible.  I  thought,  if  I  were 
surrounded  by  enemies,  who  were  venting  their  malice  and  cruelty 
upon  me,  in  tormenting  me,  it  would  still  be  impossible  that  I  should 
cherish  any  feelings  towards  them  but  those  of  love,  and  pity  and 
ardent  desires  for  thejr  happiness.  At  the  same  time  I  thought,  if 
I  were  cast  off  by  my  nearest  and  dearest  friends,  and  if  the  feel- 
ings and  conduct  of  my  husband  were  to  be  changed  from  tender- 
ness and  affection,  to  extreme  hatred  and  cruelty,  and  that  every 
day,  I  could  so  rest  in  God,  that  it  w^ould  not  touch  my  heart,  or 
diminish  my  happiness.  I  could  sdll  go  on  with  alacrity  in  the 
performance  of  every  act  of  duty,  and  my  happiness  remain  undi- 
minished and  entire. 

"  I  never  before  felt  so  far  from  a  disposition  to  judge  and  cen- 
sure others,  with  respect  to  the  state  of  their  hearts,  their  sincerity, 
or  their  attainments  in  holiness,  as  I  did  that  morning.  To  do  this, 
seemed  abhorrent  to  every  feeling  of  my  heart.  I  realized  also, 
in  an  unusual  and  very  lively  manner,  how  great  a  part  of  Chris- 
tianity lies  in  the  performance  of  our  social  and  relative  duties 
to  one  another.  The  same  lively  and  joyful  sense  of  spiritual  and 
divine  things  continued  throughout  the  day — a  sweet  love  to  God 
and  all  mankind,  and  such  an  entire  rest  of  soul  in  God,  that  it 
seemed  as  if  nothing  that  could  be  said  of  me,  or  done  to  me,  could 
touch  my  heart,  or  disturb  my  enjo}Tiient.  The  road  between 
heaven  and  my  soul  seemed  open  and  wide,  all  the  day  long ;  and 
the  consciousness  I  had  of  the  reality  and  excellence  of  heavenh 
things  was  so  clear,  and  the  affections  they  excited  so  intense,  that 
it  overcame  my  strength,  and  kept  my  body  weak  and  faint,  the 
great  part  of  the  day,  so  that  I  could  not  stand  or  go  without  help. 
The  night  also  was  comfortmg  and  refreshing. 

"  This  delightful  frame  of  mind  was  continued  on  Monday. 
About  noon,  one  of  the  neigbours,  w'ho  was  conversing  with  me, 
expressed  himself  thus,  "  One  smile  from  Christ  is  worth  a  thou- 
sand million  pounds  ,"  and  the  word^  jrffected  me  exceedingly,  and 


184  LIIE    OF    PRESIDENT    KDWAia>S, 

m  a  manner  which  I  cannot  express.  I  had  a  strong  sense  of  the 
intinite  worth  of  Christ's  approbation  and  love,  and  at  the  srrne 
time  of  the  grossness  of  the  comparison ;  and  it  only  astomshed 
me,  that  any  one  could  compare  a  smile  of  Christ  to  any  earthly 
treasure. — Towards  night,  I  hii.d  a  deep  sense  of  the  awful  great- 
ness of  God,  and  felt  with  what  humility  and  reverence  we  ought 

to  behave  ourselves  before  him.     Just  then  Mr.  V/ came  in, 

and  spoive  with  a  somewhat  light,  smiling  air,  of  the  fiounshi'ag  state 
of  religion  in  the  town  ;  wdiich  I  could  scarcely  bear  to  see.  It 
seemed  to  me,  that  we  ought  greatly  to  revere  die  presence  of  God, 
and  to  behave  ourselves  with  the  utmost  solemnity  and  humility, 
when  so  great  and  holy  a  God  was  so  remarkably  present,  and  to 
rejoice  before  him  with  trembling. — In  the  evening,  these  words, 
in  the  Penitential  Cries, — "  The  Comforter  is  come  !" — were 
accompanied  to  my  soul  with  such  conscious  certainty,  and  such 
intense  joy,  that  immediately  it  took  away  my  strength,  and  I  w^as 
falling  to  the  floor;  when  some  of  tliose  who  were  near  me  caught 
me  and  held  me  up.  And  when  I  repented  the  words  to  the  by-stand- 
ers,  the  strength  of  my  feelings  was  increased.  The  name — "The 
Comforter" — seemed  to  denote  that  the  Holy  Spirit  was  the  only 
and  infinite  Fountain  of  comfort  and  joy,  and  this  seemed  real  and 
certain  to  my  mind.  These  words — "  The  Comforter" — seem- 
ed as  it  were  immensely  great,  enough  to  fill  heaven  and  earth. 

"  On  Tuesday  after  dinner,  Mr.  Buell,  as  he  sat  at  table,  began 
to  discourse  about  the  glories  of  the  upper  world  ;  which  greatly  af- 
fected me,  so  as  to  take  away  my  strength.  The  views  and  feelings 
of  the  preceding  evening,  respecting  the  Great  Comforter,  were  re- 
newed in  the  most  lively  and  joyful  manner ;  so  that  my  limbs 
grew  cold,  and  I  continued  to  a  considerable  degree  overcome  for 
about  an  hour,  earnestly  expressing  to  those  around  me,  my  deep 
and  joyful  sense  of  the  presence  and  divine  excellence  of  the  Com- 
forter, and  of  the  glories  of  heaven. 

"  It  was  either  on  Tuesday,  or  Wednesday,  that  Mr.  W 

came  to  the  house,  and  informed  what  account  Mr.  Lyman,  wh© 
was  just  then  come  from  Leicester,  on  his  w^ay  from  Boston,  gave 
of  Mr.  Edwards'  success,  in  making  peace  and  promoting  religion 
at  Leicester.  The  intelhgence  inspired  me  w^ith  such  an  admiring 
sense  of  the  great  goodness  of  God,  in  using  Mr.  Edwards  as  the 
instrument  of  doing  good,  and  promoting  the  work  of  salvation,  that 
it  immediately  overcame  me,  and  took  away  my  strength,  so  that  1 
could  no  longer  stand  on  my  feet.  On  Wednesday  night,  Mr. 
Clark,  coming  in  with  Mr.  Buell  and  some  of  tlie  people,  asked 
ine  how  I  feh.  I  told  him  that  I  did  not  feel  at  all  times  alike, 
but  this  I  thought  I  could  say,  that  I  had  given  up  all  to  God,  and 
there  is  nothing  like  it,  nothing  like  giving  up  all  to  him,  esteem- 
ing all  to  be  his,  and  resigning  all  at  his  call.  I  told  him  that,  ma- 
ny a  time  within  a  twelvemontli,  I  had  asked  myself  when  I  la) 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  185 

liown,  How  I  should  feel,  if  our  house  and  all  our  })roperty  in  it 
should  be  burnt  up,  and  we  should  that  night  be  turned  out  naked  ; 
whether  I  could  cheerfully  resign  all  to  God ;  and  whether  I  so 
saw  that  all  was  his,  that  I  could  fully  consent  to  his  will,  in  being 
deprived  of  it?  and  that  I  found,  so  far  as  I  could  judge,  an  entire 
resignation  to  his  \^-ill,  and  felt  that,  if  he  should  thus  strip  me  of 
every  thing,  I  had  nothing  to  say,  but  should,  I  thought,  have  an 
entire  calm  and  rest  in  God,  for  it  was  his  own,  and  not  mine. 
After  this,  Mr.  Phelps  gave  us  an  account  of  his  own  feelings,  dur- 
ing a  journey  from  which  he  had  just  returned  ;  and  then  Mr.  Pom- 
eroy  broke  forth  in  the  language  of  joy,  and  thankfulness  and 
praise,  and  continued  speaking  to  us  nearly  an  hour,  leading  us  all 
the  time  to  rejoice  in  the  visible  presence  of  God,  and  to  adore  his 
infinite  goodness  and  condescension.  He  conchided  by  saying,  "I 
would  say  more,  if  I  could ;  but  words  were  not  made  to  express 
these  tilings."     This  reminded  me  of  the  words  of  Mrs.  Rowe  : 

"  More  I  would  speak,  but  all  my  words  are  faint: 
"  Celestial  Love,  what  eloquence  can  paint  ? 
"  No  more,  by  mortal  words,  can  be  expressed  ; 
**  But  vast  Eternity  shall  tell  the  rest ;" 

and  my  former  impressions  of  heavenly  and  divine  things  w'ere  re- 
newed w-ith  so  much  power,  and  life  and  joy,  that  my  strength  all 
failed  me,  and  I  remained  for  some  time  faint  and  exhausted.  Af- 
ter the  people  had  retired,  I  had  a  still  more  lively  and  joyful  sense 
of  the  goodness  and  all-sufficiency  of  God,  of  the  pleasure  of  lov- 
ing him,  and  of  being  alive  and  active  in  his  service,  so  that,  I 
could  not  sit  still,  but  walked  the  room  for  some  time,  in  a  kind  of 
transport.  The  contemplation  w^.s  so  refreshing  and  delightful,  so 
much  like  a  heavenly  feast  within  the  soul,  that  I  felt  an  absolute 
indifference  as  to  any  external  circumstances ;  and,  according  to 
my  best  remembrance,  this  enlivening  of  my  spirit  continued  so, 
that  I  slept  but  little  that  night. 

"  The  next  day,  being  Thursday,  between  ten  and  eleven 
o'clock,  and  a  room  full  of  people  being  collected,  I  heard  two  per- 
sons give  a  minute  account  of  the  enlivening  and  joyful  influences 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  their  own  hearts.  It  was  s\^  eet  to  me,  to  see 
others  before  me  in  their  divine  attainments,  and  to  follow  after 
them  to  heaven.  I  thought  I  should  rejoice  to  follow^  the  ne^ro 
servants  in  the  towTi  to  heaven.  While  I  was  thus  listening,  the 
consideration  of  the  blessed  appearances  there  were  of  God's  being 
there  with  us,  affected  me  so  powerfully,  that  the  joy  and  transport 
of  the  preceding  night  v.ere  again  renowned.  After  this,  they  sang 
an  hymn,  which  greatly  moved  me,  especially  the  latter  part  of  it, 
which  speaks  of  the  ungratefulness  of  not  having  the  praises  of 
Christ  always  on  oiu*  tongues.  Those  last  words  of  the  hymn 
seemed  to  fasten  on  my  mind,  and  as  I  repeated  them  over,  I  felt 
uch  intense  love  to  Christ,  and  so  much  delight  in  praising  him-. 
Vol.  I.  24 


'i-SiJ  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARUfc, 

that  I  could  hardly  forbear  leaping  from  my  chair,  and  .':;ingiiig  a- 
loud  for  joy  and  exultation.  I  continued  thus  extraordinarily  mov- 
ed until  about  one  o'clock,  when  the  people  went  away." 

I  AM  well  aware,  that  very  different  views  will  be  formed  of  the 
preceding  narrative,  by  different  individuals.  Those,  who  have  no 
conception  of  what  is  meant  by  the  religion  of  tlie  heart,  will  doubt- 
less pronounce  it  the  offspring  of  a  diseased  body,  or  a  distemper- 
ed brain.  Others,  who  profess  the  religion  of  Christ,  but  whose 
minds  usually  come  in  contact  with  nothing  v.hich  is  not  merely 
palpable — with  nothing  but  wiiat  they  can  either  see,  or  hear,  or 
feel,  or  taste, — will  probably  regard  it  as  the  effect  of  mere  enthu- 
siasm. While  others,  who  are  both  more  intellectual  and  more 
spiritual  in  their  objects  of  contemplation,  will  at  once  perceive, 
that  the  state  of  mind  therein  described,  is  one  to  which  they  them- 
selves are  chiefly  or  wholly  strangers  ;  and  will  therefore  very  nat- 
urally, and  rationally  wish  to  learn,  sojnewhat  more  minutely,  the 
circumstances  of  the  individual,  v/ho  vras  the  subject  of  these  spir- 
itual discoveries,  as  w^ell  as  their  actual  effect  upon  her  character. 
On  these  points,  the  testimony  of  Mr.  Edwards  is  full  and  exphcit ; 
and  from  his  authority,  we  state  the  following  facts. 

At  this  time,  Mrs.  Edwards  had  been  long,  in  an  uncommon 
manner,  grovving  in  grace,  and  rising,  l)y  very  sensible  degrees,  to 
higher  love  to  God,  weanedness  from  the  world,  and  m.astery  over 
sin  and  temptation,  through  great  trials  and  conflicts,  and  long  con- 
tinued strugghng  and  fighting  with  sin,  and  earnest  and  constant 
prayer  and  labour  in  religion,  and  engagedness  of  mind  in  the  use 
of  all  means,  attended  with  a  great  exactness  of  life ;  and  this 
growth  had  been  attended,  not  only  with  a  great  increase  of  reli- 
gious affections,  but  with  a  most  visible  alteration  of  outward  Ijehav- 
iour;  particularly  in  living  above  the  world,  and  in  a  greater  degree 
of  steadfastness  and  strength  in  the  way  of  duty  and  self-denial; 
maintaining  the  christian  conflict  against  temptations,  and  conquer- 
ing from  time  to  time  under  great  trials ;  persisting  in  an  unmoved, 
untouched  calm  and  rest,  midcr  the  changes  and  accidents  of  time, 
such  as  seasons  of  extreme  pain,  and  apparent  hazard  of  immedi- 
ate death.  These  transports  did  not  arise  from  bodily  weakness, 
but  were  greatest  in  the  best  state  of  liealth.  They  wei-e  accom- 
panied with  a  li\ely  sense  of  the  greatness  of  God,  and  her  own 
littleness  and  vileness ;  and  had  abiding  effects,  in  the  increase  of 
the  sweetness,  rest  and  humility,  wiiich  they  left  upon  the  soul, 
and  in  a  new  engagedness  of  heart  to  live  to  the  honour  of  God, 
and  to  watch  and  figlu  against  sin.  They  w^ere  attended  with  no 
enthusiastical  disposition  to  follow^  impulses,  or  supposed  revela- 
tions, nor  with  any  appearance  of  spiriiual  pride  ;  but  on  the  con- 
trary, with  a  very  great  increase  of  meekness,  and  humility,  and  a 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  187 

tiispositiou  in  honour  to  prefer  others,  as  well  as  with  a  great  aver- 
sion to  jiidgine;  others,  and  a  strong  sense  of  the  importance  of  mo- 
ral, social  duties.  They  were  accompanied  with  an  extraordinary- 
sense  of  the  awful  majesty  of  God,  so  as  frequently  to  take  away 
the  bodily  strength ;  with  a  sense  of  the  hohness  of  God,  as  of  a 
flame  infinitely  pure  and  bright,  so  as  oftentimes  to  overwhelm 
soul  and  body  ;  with  an  extraordinary  view^  of  the  infinite  terrible- 
ness  of  his  wrath,  of  tlie  exceeding  sinfulness  of  her  own  heart, 
and  of  a  desert  of  that  wTath  forever ;  with  an  intense  sorrow  for 
sin,  so  as  entirely  to  prostrate  the  strength  of  the  body ;  with  a 
clear  certainty  of  the  truth  of  the  great  things  revealed  in  the  Gos- 
pel ;  with  an  overwhelming  sense  of  the  glory  of  the  work  of  re- 
demption, and  the  w^ay  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ,  of  the  glorious 
harmony  of  the  Divine  attributes  appearing  therein,  as  that  wherein 
mercy  and  truth  are  met  together,  and  righteousness  and  peace 
have  kissed  each  other ;  with  a  sight  of  the  glorious  sufficiency  of 
Christ,  a  constant  immoveable  trust  in  God,  an  overwhelming  sense 
of  his  glorious  unsearchable  \visdom,  a  sweet  rejoicing  at  his  being 
infinitely  and  unchangeably  happy,  independent  and  all-sufficient, 
at  his  reigning  over  all,  and  doing  his  own  will  with  uncontrollable 
power  and  sovereignty  ;  with  a  delightful  sense  of  the  glory  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  as  the  great  Comforter ;  with  intense  desires  for  the 
honour  and  glory  of  God's  name,  a  clear  and  constant  preference 
of  it,  not  only  to  her  own  temporal  interests,  but  to  her  spiritual 
comfort;  with  a  willingness  to  live  and  die  in  spiritual  darkness,  if  the 
honour  of  God  required  it,  a  great  lamenting  of  ingratitude,  intense 
longings  and  faintings  after  higher  love  to  Christ,  and  greater  con- 
formity to  him — particularly  to  be  more  perfect  in  humility  and  ad- 
oration ;  with  great  delight  in  singing  praises  to  God  and  Jesus 
Christ,  a  desire  that  this  present  life  might  be  one  continued  song 
of  praise,  and  an  overcoming  pleasure  at  the  thought  of  spending 
eternity  in  that  exercise;  with  a  living  by  faith  in  a  very  unusual 
manner  ;  with  an  uniform  distrust  of  her  own  strength,  and  a  great 
dependence  on  God  for  help ;  with  inteiir-o  longings  that  all  christians 
might  be  fervent  in  love,  and  active  in  the  service  of  God;  "v^ith  taking 
pleasure  in  watchfulness  and  toil,  self-denial  and  bearing  the  cross; 
with  a  melting  compassion  for  those  who  w^er e  in  a  state  of  nature,  and 
for  christians  under  darkness,  an  universal  benevolence  to  all  man- 
kind, a  wilhngness  to  endure  any  suffering  for  the  conversion  of  the 
impenitent — her  compassion  for  them  being  often  to  that  degree, 
that  she  could  find  no  su]:)port  nor  rest,  but  in  going  to  God  and 
pouring  out  her  s6ul  m  prayer  for  them ;  with  earnest  desires  that 
tlie  then  existing  work  of  Divine  grace  might  be  carried  on  with 
greater  purity,  and  freedom  from  all  bitter  zeal,  censoriousness, 
.spiritual  pride  and  angry  controversy,  and  that  the  kingdom  of 
Christ  might  be  estabhshed  through  the  earth,  as  a  kingdom  of  lio- 
liness,  peace  and  joy ;  with  unspeakable  delight  in  tl:ie  thoughts  of- 


188  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

heaven,  as  a  world  of  love,  where  love  shall  be  the  saints'  eternal 
food,  where  tliey  shall  dwell  in  llie  light  of  love,  and  where  the  ve- 
ry air  and  breath  will  be  nothing  but  love  ;  with  intense  love  to  the 
people  of  God,  as  to  those  who  will  soon  wear  his  perfect  image  : 
Avith  earnest  desires  that  others  miglit  love  God  better  than  herself, 
and  attain  to  higher  degrees  of  holiness  ;  with  a  dehght  in  convers- 
ing on  the  most  spiritual  and  heavenly  things  in  religion,  often  en- 
gaging in  such  conversation,  with  a  degree  of  feeling  too  intense  to 
be  long  endured  ;  and  with  a  lively  sense  of  the  importance  of  char- 
ity to  the  poor,  as  well  as  of  the  need  which  ministers  iiave  of  the  influ- 
ences of  the  Holy  Spirit,   and  earnest  longings  and  wrestlings  wit li 
God  for  them  in  prayer.  Slie  had  also,  according  to  Mr.  Edwards,  the 
greatest,  fullest,  longest  continued,  and   most   constant  Assurance 
of  the  favour  of  God,  and  of  a  title  to  future  glory,  that  he   ever 
saw  any  appearance  of,  in  any  person  ; — enjoying,  especially  near 
the  time  in  which  he  made  this  statement,  to  use  her  own  expres- 
sion, THE  RICHES  OF  FuLL  AssuRANCE ;  as  wcU  as  an  uninter- 
rupted, entire  resignation  to   God,   with  respect  to  health  or  sick- 
ness, ease  or  pain,   life  or  death,    and  an  entire  resignation  of  the 
lives  of  her  nearest  earthly  friends.     These  things  w^cre  attended 
with  a  constant,  sweet  peace  and  serenity  of  soul,  without  a  cloud 
to  interrupt  it,  a  continual  rejoicing  in  all  the  works  of  nature  and 
providence,  a  wonderful  access  to  God  by  prayer,  sensibly  con- 
versing with  him,  as  much  as  if  Christ  were  here  on  earth ;  fre- 
quent, plain,  sensible   and  immediate,   answers  of  prayer,  all  tears 
wiped  away,  all  former  troubles  and  sorrows  of  life  forgotten,  ex- 
cepting sorrow  for  sin,  doing  every  thing  for  God  and  his  glory,  do- 
ing it  as  the  service  of  love,  with  a  continual,  uninterrupted  cheer- 
fulness, peace  and  joy.     "  O  how  good,"  she  once  observed,  "  is 
it  to  work  for  God  in  the  day  time,  and  at  night  to  lie  down  under 
his  smiles."     Instead  of  slighting  the  means  of  grace  in  conse- 
quence of  these  discoveries,  she  was  never  more  sensible  of  her 
need  of  .instruction  ;  instead  of  regarding  herself  as  free  from  sin, 
she  was  led  by  her  clearer  sight  of  the  Divine  holiness,  to  perceive 
more  fully  the  sinfulness  of  her  own  heart ;  instead  of  neglecting 
the  business  of  hfe,  she  performed  it  with  greater  alacrity,  as  a 
part  of  the  service  of  God — declaring  that,  when  thus  done,  it  was 
as  delightful  as  prayer  itself.     At  the  same  time,  she  discovered  an 
extreme  anxiety  to  avoid  every  sin.  and  to  discharge  every  moral 
obligation,  was  most  exemplary  in  the  performance  of  every  social 
and  relative  duty,  exhibited  great  inoffensiveness  of  hfe  and  con- 
versation, great  meekness,  gentleness  and  benevolence  of  spirit, 
and  avoided,  with  remarkable  conscientiousness,  all  those  things, 
which  she  regarded  as  failings  in  her  own  character. 

To  tliose,  who,  after  reading  this  statement  of  facts,  still  regard 
the  preceding  narrative  as  the  offspring  of  enthusiam,  we  shall 
draw  our  reply  from  Mr.  Edwards  himself:  "  Now  if  such  things 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  180 

are  enthusiasm,  and  the  offspring  of  a  distempered  brain;  let  my 
brain  be  possessed  evermore  of  that  happy  distemper  !  If  this  be 
distraction ;  I  pray  God  tiiat  the  world  of  mankind  may  all  be  seiz- 
ed Vk'ith  this  benign,  meek,  beneficent,  beatific,  glorious  distraction  ! 
What  notion  have  they  of  true  religion,  v.'lio  reject  what  has  here 
been  described  ?  What  shall  we  find  to  correspond  with  these  ex- 
pressions of  Scripture,  The  peace  of  God,  that  passeth  all  under- 
standing  :  Rejoicing  ivith  joy  unspeakable,  and  full  of  glory  : 
Godh  shining  into  our  hearts,  to  give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of 
the  glory  of  God,  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ :  With  open  face,  he- 
holding  as  in  a  glass  the  glory  of  God,  and  being  changed  into  the 
same  image,  from  glory  to  glory,  even  as  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  : 
Being  called  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous  light :  and  having  the 
day-star  arise  in  our  hearts  :  What,  let  me  ask,  if  these  things  that 
have  been  mentioned  do  not  correspond  with  these  expressions; 
what  else  can  we  find  that    does  correspond  with  them  ?" 

Mr.  Edwards  adds,  that  he  had  witnessed  many  instances,  in 
Northampton  and  elsewhere,  of  other  persons,  which  were  in  gene- 
ral, of  the  same  kind  with  these,  though  not  so  high  in  degree,  in 
any  instance  ;  and,  in  many  of  them,  not  so  pure  and  unmixed,  or 
so  well  regulated.  In  some  individuals,  who  discovered  very  in- 
tense religious  affections,  there  was  obviously  a  great  mixture  of 
nature  with  grace,  and  in  some  a  sad  degenerating  of  rehgious  af- 
fections ;  yet,  in  most  instances,  they  were  uniform  in  their  charac- 
ter, and  obviously  the  result  of  fervent  piety. 

That  such  full  and  clear  discoveries  of  the  Divine  excellency 
and  glory,  as  those  recited  in  the  preceding  narrative,  are  uncom- 
mon, is  unhappily  too  true  :  still  they  are  far  from  being  singular ; 
for  accounts  of  a  similar  nature  may  be  found  in  the  private  diaries 
of  men  of  distinguished  piety,  in  almost  every  age  of  the  church."^ 
They  are  not  however  probably  more  uncommon,  than  are  great 
attainments  in  piety ;  and,  when  enjoyed  by  those,  v/ho  have  made 
such  attainments,  ought,  in  no  respect,  to  be  regarded  as  surprising. 
There  is  certainly  in  God,  a  goodness  and  a  glory,  infinitely  surpass- 
ing the  comprehension  of  the  highest  created  beings.  This  good- 
ness and  glory,  which  constitutes  the  Divine  beauty  and  loveliness, 
God  is  able  to  reveal  to  the  mind  of  every  intelligent  creature,  as 
far  as  his  faculties  extend.  If  the  mind,  to  which  this  revelation  is 
made,  has  a  supreme  rehsh  for  holiness  ;  the  discovery  of  this  spirit- 
ual beauty  of  the  Divine  mind,  will  communicate  to  it  an  enjoyment, 
which  is  pure  and  heavenly  in  its  nature  ;  and  the  degree  of  this 
enjoyment,  in  every  case,  will  be  proportioned  to  the  measure  of 
the  faculties,  and  to  the  fulness  of  the  discovery.  This  is  obvi- 
ously true  in  the  heavenly  world.     God  there  reveals  his  glory — 

'^  As  examples  o^this  nature,  the  reader  is  referred  to  the  writinfrs  of  Fla- 
vel  Ti.  Baxter,  and  Brainerd,  and  of  Mr.  Edwards  himsptf. 


190  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

not  ill  all  its  infinite  brightness  :  this,  he  cannot  do  to  a  created  m- 
teliigence  :  he  reveals  it — in  as  strong  an  effulgence  as  the  minds 
of  saints  and  angels  can  endure.  Were  a  revelation,  equally  clear 
and  full,  to  be  made  to  one  of  us  here  on  earth,  it  would  obviously 
overwhelm  and  destroy  the  hfe  of  the  body  ;  for  John,  even 
vrhen  he  beheld  the  glorified  body  of  Christ,  fell  at  his  feet  as 
dead.  In  proportion  as  an  individual  is  possessed  of  holmess,  so 
much  more  near  does  he  come  to  God,  and  so  much  more  clear  and 
distinct  is  his  perception  of  his  true  character.  "  If  a  man  love  me," 
says  Christ,  "  he  will  keep  my  words  ;  and  my  Father  will  love 
him,  and  we  will  come  unto  him,  and  make  our  abode  with  him." 
Such  discoveries  of  the  Divine  beauty  and  glory,  are  therefore  the 
promised  rewm'd,  as  well  as  the  natural  consequence,  of  distin- 
guished holiness  ;  and  a  well  authenticated  narrative,  of  the  man- 
ner in  which  they  were  made,  in  a  given  instance,  even  if  they 
were  unusual  in  degree,  instead  of  exciting  our  distrust  or  surprise, 
should  lead  us,  with  a  noble  emulation,  to  "  press  forward  towards 
the  mark,  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calbng  of  Godm  Christ  Jesus." 


CHAPTER  XT. 

Extent  of  the  Revival  of  1740,   '41,  '42. — Auspicious  opening. 

— Opposed    by    its    enemies;    and    injured  by  its   friendc. 

"  Thoughts  on  the  Revived  in  J\"eiv  England.'^'' — Attestations  of 
numerous  ministers. —  Causes  of  its  decline. — Influence  of  Mr. 
Whitefield,  Mr.  Tennent,  and  others. — Influence  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards'' Publications  iyi  Scotland. — Great  Revival  of  Reli'j;ion 
there. — His  correspondents  in  that  country. — Letter  to  Mr 
M^Cidloch. — Ansiver  to  Do. — Letter  from  Mr.  Robe. 

The  reader  can  scarcely  need  to  be  informed,  that  the  Revival 
of  religion,  of  which  we  have  been  speaking,  was  not  confined  to 
Northampton.  It  began  there,  and  at  Boston,  and  at  many  other 
places,  in  1740,  and  in  that,  and  the  three  followmg  years,  prevail- 
ed, to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  in  more  than  one  hundred  and  fifty 
congregations  in  New  England,  New  York,  New  Jersey  and  Penn- 
sylvania ;  as  well  as  in  a  considerable  number  more,  in  Maryland 
and  Virginia,  in  1744.  At  its  commencement,  it  appears  to  have 
been,  to  an  unusual  degree,  a  silent,  powerful  and  glorious,  work 
of  the  Spirit  of  God — the  simple  effect  of  Truth  applied  to  the 
conscience,  and  accompanied  by  his  converting  grace.  So  auspi- 
cious indeed  was  the  opening  of  this  memorable  work  of  God,  and 
so  rapid  its  progress,  that  the  promised  reign  of  Christ  on  the 
Earth  was  believed,  by  many,  to  be  actually  begun.  Had  it  con- 
tinued of  this  unmixed  character,  so  extensive  was  its  prevalence, 
and  so  powerful  its  operation,  it  would  seem  that  in  no  great  lengtli 
of  time,  it  would  have  pervaded  this  western  world.  As  is  usual  in 
such  cases,  it  was  opposed  by  the  enemies  of  vital  religion,  and 
vvith  a  violence  proportioned  to  its  prevalence  and  power.  But  its 
v/orst  enemies  were  found  among  its  most  zealous  friends  :  and  Mr, 
Edwards  appears  to  have  been  early  aware,  that  the  measures  too 
generally  resorted  to,  by  many  of  them,  to  extend  its  influence  over 
the  whole  country,  as  well  as  throughout  every  tovvn  and  village 
where  it  was  actually  begun,  were  only  adapted  to  introduce  con- 
fusion and  disorder,  as  far  as  they  prevailed.  To  check  these 
commencing  evils,  if  possible,  and  to  bear  his  own  testimony  to  the 
Work  as  a  genuine  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  prepared  and  pub- 
lished his  "  Thoughts  on  the  Revival  of  Religion  in  New  England, 
in  1740."  In  this  Treatise,  after  presenting  evidence  most  clear 
and  convincing  that  the  attention  to  relig-on,  of  which  he  speaks, 
w^s  a  glorious  work  of  God,  and  showing  the  obhgations  wliich  all 


192  iilFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

were  under,  to  acknowledge  and  promote  it,  as  well  as  the  danger 
of  the  contrary  conduct :  he  points  out  various  particulars  in  which 
its  friends  had  been  injuriously  blamed,  then  exhibits  the  errors 
and  mistakes  into  which  they  had  actually  fallen,  and  concludes  by 
showing  positively,  wliat  ought  to  be  done  to  promote  it.  This 
work,  which  was  published  in  1742,  excited  a  very  deep  interest 
in  the  American  churches,  and  was  immediately  republished  in 
Scotland.  The  author,  from  his  uncommon  acquaintance  with  the 
Scriptures,  the  soundness  of  his  theological  views,  his  intuitive  dis- 
cernment of  the  operations  of  the  mind,  his  knowledge  of  the  hu- 
man heart  both  before  and  after  its  renovation  by  the  Spirit  of  God, 
his  familiarity  whh  revivals  of  religion,  his  freedom  from  enthusi- 
asm, and  his  utter  aversion  to  extravagance  and  disorder,  was  ad- 
mirably quahfied  to  execute  it  in  the  happiest  manner  :  and,  from 
the  time  of  its  first  publication,  it  has  been,  to  a  very  wide  extent, 
the  common  Text-book  of  evangelical  divines,  on  the  subject  ot 
which  it  treats.  If  the  reader  will  examine  the  various  accounts 
of  revivals  of  religion,  he  will  find  that  no  one  of  them,  anterior  to 
this,  furnishes  an  explanation  of  the  subject,  in  accordance  with  the 
acknowledged  principles  of  mental  philosophy. 

In  1743,  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  ministers  published  their 
attestations  to  this  work,  as  in  their  own  view  a  genuine  work  of 
the  Spirit  of  God,  and  as  having  been  extraordinary  and  remarka- 
ble, on  account  of  tlie  numbers  who  discovered  a  deep  anxiet}^  for 
their  salvation;  on  account  of  its  rapid  progress  from  place  to  j)lace ; 
and  on  account  of  the  power  with  which  it  was  carried  on.  Yet, 
while  they  bear  witness  to  the  great  numbers  who  appeared  to 
have  become  real  christians,  to  the  extensive  reformation  of  morals 
\vhich  it  occasioned,  and  to  a  greater  prevalence  of  religion  than 
they  had  before  witnessed  ;  many  of  them  also  regret  the  extrava- 
gancies and  irregularities,  which  in  some  places  had  been  permitted 
to  accompany  it.  Among  these,  they  particularly  point  oui — a  dis- 
position to  make  secret  impulses  on  the  mind,  a  rule  of  duty — lay- 
men invading  the  ministerial  office,  and  under  a  pretence  of  exhort- 
ing, setting  up  preaching — ministers  invading  each  other's  provin- 
ces— indiscreet  young  men  rushing  into  particular  places,  and 
preaching  on  all  occasions — unscriftural  separations  of  churches, 
and  of  ministers  from  their  churches — a  rash  judging  of  the  reh- 
gious  state  of  others — and  a  controversial,  uncharitable  and  censo- 
rious, spirit. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  that  both  parts  of  this  statement  are 
true.  Although  this  most  extensive  work  of  grace  opened  on  New" 
England,  in  1740  and  1741,  in  a  manner  eminently  auspicious ; 
yet  in  the  two  following  years,  it  assumed,  in  various  places,  a 
somewhat  different  as})ect,  and  was  unhappily  marked  with  irregu- 
larity and  disorder.  This  was  doubtless  owing,  in  some  degree, 
to  the  fact,  that  many  ministers  of  wisdom  and  sound  discretion. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  193 

not  adverting  sufficiently  to  the  extent  and  importance  of  the  Apos- 
tolic exhortation,  "  Let  all  things  be  done  decently  and  in  order," 
either  encouraged,  or  did  not  effectually  suppress,  outcries,  falling 
down  and  swooning,  in  the  time  of  public  and  social  worship,  the 
speaking  and  praying  of  women  in  the  church  and  in  mixed  assem- 
blies, the  meetiiDg  of  children  by  themselves  for  religious  worship, 
and  singing  and  praying  aloud  in  the  streets;  but  far  more  to  the 
unrestrained  zeal  of  a  considerable  number  of  misguided  men  ; — 
some  of  them,  preachers  of  the  gospel,  and  others,  lay-exhorters  ; — 
who,  intending  to  take  Mr.  Whitefield  as  their  model,  travelled  from 
place  to  place,  preaching  and  exhorting  wherever  they  could  col- 
lect an  audience  ;  pronounced  definitively  and  unhesitatingly  with 
respect  to  the  piety  of  individuals,  both  ministers  and  private  chris- 
tians ;  and,  whenever  they  judged  a  minister,  or  a  majority  of  his 
church,  destitute  of  piety  ; — which  they  usually  did,  not  on  account 
of  their  false  principles  or  their  irreligious  life,  but  for  their  want  of  an 
ardour  and  zeal  equal  to  their  own ; — advised,  in  the  one  case,  the 
whole  church  to  withdraw  firom  the  minister  ;  and,  in  the  other,  a 
minority  to  separate  themselves  from  the  majority,  and  to  form  a 
distinct  church  and  congregation.  This  indiscreet  advice,  had,  at 
times,  too  much  influence,  and  occasioned  in  some  places  the  sun- 
dering of  churches  and  congregations,  in  others  the  removal  of 
ministers,  and  in  others  the  separation  of  individuals  from  the  com- 
munion of  their  brethren.  It  thus  introduced  contentions  and 
quarrels  into  churches  and  families,  alienated  ministers  from  each 
other,  and  from  their  people,  and  produced,  in  the  places  where 
these  consequences  were  most  discernible,  a  wide-spread  and  rivet- 
ted  prejudice  against  re\ivals  of  religion.  It  is  deserving  perhaps 
of  enquiry,  Whether  the  subsequent  slumber  of  the  American 
Church,  for  nearly  seventy  years,  may  not  be  ascribed,  in  an  impor- 
tant degree,  to  the  fatal  re-action  of  these  unhappy  measures. 

There  can  be  no  doubt  that  on  IMr.  Whitefield,  (although  by  his 
multiplied  and  successful  labours  he  was  the  means  of  incalculable 
good  to  the  churches  of  America,  as  well  as  to  those  of  England 
and  Scotland,)  these  e^ils  are,  to  a  considerable  degree,  to  be 
charged,  as  having  first  led  the  way  in  this  career  of  irregularity 
and  disorder.  He  did  not  go  as  far  as  some  of  his  followers  ;  but 
he  opened  a  wide  door,  and  went  great  lengths  in  these  forbidden 
paths ;  and  his  imitators,  having  less  discretion  and  experience, 
ventured,  under  the  cover  of  his  example,  even  beyond  the  limits 
which  he  himself  was  afraid  to  pass.  His  published  journals  show, 
that  he  was  accustomed  to  decide  too  authoritatively,  whether  oth- 
ers, particularly  ministers,  were  converted  ;  as  well  as  to  insist  that 
churches  ought  to  remove  those,  wiiom  they  regarded  as  uncon- 
verted ministers ;  and  that  individual  christians  or  minorities  of 
churches,  where  a  majority  refused  to  do  this,  were  bound  to  sepa- 
rate themselves.     IMr.  Edwards,  wholly  disapproving  of  tliis  con- 

Vol.  I.  25 


194  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT   EDWARDS* 

duct,  conversed  with  Mr.  Whitefield  ficely,  in  the  presence  of 
others,  about  his  practice  of  pronouncing  ministers,  and  other  mem- 
bers of  the  christian  church,  unconverted ;  and  declares  that  he 
supposed  him  to  be  of  the  opinion,  that  unconverted  ministers 
ought  not  to  be  continued  in  the  ministry  ;  and  that  he  supposed 
that  he  endeavoured  to  propagate  this  opinion,  and  a  practice  ag;.  ee- 
able  thereto.  The  same  may  be  said,  in  substance,  of  Mr.  G. 
Tennent,  Mr.  Finley,  and  IMr.  Davenport,  all  of  whom  became 
early  convinced  of  their  error,  and  with  christian  sincerity  openly  ac- 
knowledged it.  At  the  same  time,  vvhile  these  things  were  to  be 
regretted  in  themselves,  and  still  more  so  in  their  unhappy  conse- 
quences, the  evidence  is  clear  that,  in  far  the  greater  number  of 
places,  these  irregularities  and  disorders,  if  in  any  degree  preva- 
lent, were  never  predominant ;  and  that  the  attention  to  religion  in 
these  places,  while  it  condnued,  was  most  obviously  a  great  and 
powerful  work  of  the  Spirit  of  God.  The  testimony  of  the  rnmis- 
ters  of  those  places,  on  these  points,  is  explicit.  It  is  given  with 
great  caution,  and  with  the  utmost  candour ;  it  acknowledges  frank- 
ly the  evils  then  experienced ;  and  it  details  the  actual  moral 
change  wrought  in  individuals  and  in  society  at  large,  in  such  a 
manner,  that  no  one,  who  believes  in  regeneration  as  the  work  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  can  doubt  that  this  change  was  effected  by  the 
finger  of  God. 

Though  the  attention  to  religion,  at  this  period,  was  more  pow- 
erful and  more  universal  at  Northampton,  than  in  almost  any  other 
congregation,  there  was  yet  scarcely  one  in  which  so  few  of  these 
evils  were  experienced.  The  reason  was,  that  their  spiritual  guide 
liad  already  formed,  in  his  own  mind,  setded  principles  respecting 
a  genuine  Revival  of  religion — as  to  its  cause,  its  nature,  and  in  the 
most  important  points,  as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  was  to  be  treat- 
ed. He  regarded  it  as  caused — not  by  Appeals  to  the  feelings  or 
the  passions,  but — ^by  the  Truth  of  God  brought  home  to  the  mind, 
in  a  subordinate  sense  by  the  preaching  of  die  Gospel,  but  in  a  far 
higher  sense  by  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
considered  such  an  event,  so  far  as  man  is  concerned,  as  the  sim}:>le 
effect  of  a  practical  attention  to  Trudi,  on  the  conscience  and  the 
heart.  He  felt  it  to  be  his  great,  and  in  a  sense  his  only,  duty 
therefore,  to  urge  Divine  Truth  on  the  feelings  and  consciences  of 
his  hearers,  wth  all  possible  solemnity  and  power.  How  he  in 
fact  urged  it,  his  published  sermons  will  show. 

Yet  even  in  Northampton,  many  things  occurred,  which  not  only 
were  deviations  from  decorum  and  good  sense,  but  were  directly 
calculated,  as  far  as  diey  prevailed,  to  change  that,  which,  in  its 
commencement,  was,  to  an  uncommon  degree,  a  silent  and  power- 
ful work  of  divine  grace,  into  a  scene  of  confusion  and  disorder. 
This  was  owing  chiefly  to  contagion  from  without.  "  The  former 
part  of  the  revival  of  religion,  in   1740  and  1741,  seemed  to  be 


LIFE    O'P   PRESIDENT   EDWARDS.  195 

fiiuch  more  pure,  having  less  of  a  corrupt  mixture  tlian  in  that  of 
1735  and  1736. — But  in  1742,  it  was  otherwise  :  the  work  con- 
tinued more  pure  till  we  were  infected  from  ahroad.  Oar  people 
hearing  of,  and  some  of  them  seeing,  the  work  in  other  places, 
where  there  was  a  greater  visible  commotion  than  here,  and  the 
outward  appearances  w^ere  more  extraordinary,  their  eyes  were 
dazzled  with  the  high  professions  and  great  show  that  some  made, 
who  c:ame  in  hither  from  other  places.  That  these  people  went  so  far 
before  them  in  raptures  and  violent  emodons  of  the  affections,  and  a 
vehe.iient  zeal,  and  what  they  called  boldness  for  Christ,  our  peo- 
ple were  ready  to  think  was  owing  to  far  greater  attainments  in 
grace  and  intimacy  with  heaven.  These  things  had  a  strange  in- 
fluence on  the  people,  and  gave  many  of  them  a  deep  and  unhappy 
tincture,  from  which  it  was  a  hard  and  long  labour  to  deliver  them, 
and  from  which  some  of  them  are  not  fully  delivered,  to  this  day." 

In  many  parishes,  where  the  attention  to  religion  commenced  in 
17  2,  it  was  extensively,  if  not  chiefly,  of  this  unhappy  character. 
This  w^as  particularly  true  in  the  eastern  part  of  Connecticut,  and 
in  the  eastern  and  south  eastern  part,  and  some  of  the  more  central 
parishes,  of  Massachusetts.  Churches  and  congregations  were 
torn  asunder,  many  ministers  were  dismissed,  churches  of  a  sepa- 
ratical  character  were  formed,  the  peace  of  society  was  permanently 
broken  up,  and  a  revival  of  religion  became  extensively,  in  the 
view  of  the  community,  another  name  for  the  prevalence  of  fanati- 
cism, disorder  and  misrule.  This  unhappy  and  surprising  change 
should  prove  an  everlasting  beacon  to  the  Church  of  God. 

I  HAVE  already  had  occasion  to  remark,  that  the  "  Narrative  of 
Surprising  Conversions"  was  repeatedly  published,  and  extensively 
circulated,  throughout  England  and  Scotland.  The  same  was 
true  of  Mr.  Edwards'  Five  Sermons  preached  during  the  revival 
of  rehgion  in  1734 — 5,  and  of  his  Discourse  on  "the  Distinguish- 
ing Marks  of  a  Work  of  the  Spirit  of  God."  The  effect  of  these 
pubhcations,  particularly  of  the  first,  was  in  the  latter  country  great 
and  salutary.  The  eyes  both  of  ministers  and  christians  were  ex- 
tensively opened  to  the  fact,  that  an  effusion  of  die  Spirit,  resem- 
bling in  some  good  degree  those  recorded  in  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles,  might  take  place,  and  might  rationally  be  expected  to 
take  place,  in  modern  times,  in  consequence  of  the  direct  and 
powerful  application  of  similar  means.  Scotland  was  at  that  time 
favoured  with  the  labours  of  many  clergymen,  greatly  respected 
for  their  piety  and  talents ;  among  whom  were  the  Rev.  William 
M'CuLLOCH  of  Cambuslang,  the  Rev.  John  Robe  of  Kilsyth,  the 
Rev.  John  M'Laurin  of  Glasgow,  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gillespie 
of  Carnoch,  the  Rev.  John  Willi  son  of  Dundee,  and  the  Rev. 
John  Erskine  of  Kirkintilloch,  afterwards  Dr.  ErskTne  of  Ed- 
inburgh. These  gentlemen,  and  many  of  their  associates  in  the 
iiunistry,  appear,  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  to  hav« 


196  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

preached,  not  only  with  great  plainness  and  fervency,  but  with  the 
strongest  confidence  of  immediate  and  great  success  ;  and,  as  a 
natural  consequence,  the  Church  of  Scotland  soon  witnessed  a  state 
of  things,  to  which  she. had  long  been  a  stranger. 

In  February,  1742,  a  revival  of  religion  began  at  Cambuslang, 
the  parish  of  Mr.  M'Culloch,  four  miles  from  Glasgow,  resembling 
in  its  power  and  rapidity,  and  the  number  of  conversions,  that  in 
Northampton,  in  1734 — 5  ;  and  in  the  course  of  that  year,  scenes 
of  -A  similar  nature  were  witnessed  in  Kilsyth,  Glasgow,  Dundee, 
Carnock,  Kirkintilloch,  Edmburgh,  Aberdeen,  and  upwards  of 
thirty  towns  and  villages,  in  various  parts  of  that  kingdom.  Thus 
the  darkness  which  covers  the  earth,  was  dispersed,  for  a  season, 
from  over  these  two  countries,  and  the  clear  light  of  heaven  shone 
down  upon  them,  \\ith  no  intervening  cloud.  In  such  circumstan- 
ces, it  might  naturally  be  expected,  thai  the  prominent  clergymen 
in  both,  feehng  a  common  interest,  and  bemg  engaged  in  similar 
labours,  would  soon  open  a  mutual  correspondence. 

The  first  of  j\lr.  Edwards'  correspondents  in  Scotland,  was  the 
Rev.  IMr.  M'Laurin  of  Glasgow ;  but,  unfortunately,  I  have  been 
able  to  procure  none  of  the  letters  which  passed  between  them. 
That  gentleman,  in  the  early  part  of  1743,  ha\dng  informed  Mr. 
Edwards  that  his  friend,  Mr.  IM'Culloch  of  Cambuslang,  had  in- 
tended to  wTite  to  him  with  the  \iew  of  offering  a  correspondence, 
but  had  failed  of  the  expected  opportunity  ;  Mr.  Edwards  address- 
ed to  the  latter  the  following  letter. 

"  To  tlie  Rev.  Wilham  M'Culloch,  Cambuslang. 

''Northampton,  May  12,  1743. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Mr.  M'Laurin  of  Glasgow,  in  a  letter  he  has  lately  sent  me, 
informs  me  of  your  proposing  to  write  a  letter  to  me,  and  of  your 
being  prevented  by  the  failing  of  the  expected  opportunity.  I 
thank  you.  Rev.  Sir,  that  you  had  such  a  thing  in  your  heart.  We 
were  informed  last  year,  W  the  prmted  and  well  attested  narra- 
tive, of  the  glorious  work  of  God  in  your  parish  ;  which  we  have 
since  understood  has  spread  into  many  other  towns  and  parishes 
in  that  part  of  Scotland :  especially  are  we  informed  of  this  by  Mr. 
Robes'  Narrative,  and  I  perceive  by  some  papers  of  the  Weekly 
History,  sent  me  by  Mr.  IM'Laurin  of  Gliisgow,  that  the  work  has 
continued  to  make  glorious  progress  at  Cambuslnng,  even  till  it 
has  prevailed  to  a  wonderful  degree  indeed.  God  has  highly  fa- 
voured and  honoured  you,  dear  Sir,  which  may  justly  render  your 
name  precious  to  all  that  love  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  We  live  in 
a  day  wherein  God  is  doing  marvellous  thmgs  :  in  that  respect,  we 
are  distinguished  from  former  generations.  God  has  wrought  great 
things  in  New-England,  which,  though  exceedingly  glorious,  have  al! 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARD5.  197 

along  been  attended  with  some  threatening  clouds ;  which,  from 
the  beginning,  caused   me  to  appreliend  some  great  stop  or  check 
to  be  put  to  the  work,  before  it  should  be  begun  and  carried  on  in 
its  genuine  purity  and  beauty,  to  subdue  all  before  it,  and  to  pre- 
vail with  an  irresistible  and  continual  progress  and  triumph ;  and 
it  is  come  to  pass  according  to  my  apprehensions.     But  yet  I  can- 
not think  otherwise,   than  that  what  has  now  been   doing,  is  the 
forerunner  of  something  vastly  greater,  more  pure,  and  more   ex- 
tensive.    I  can't  think  that  God  has  come  down  from  heaven,  and 
done  such  great  things  before  our  eyes,  and  gone  so  much  beside 
and  beyond  his  usual  way  of  working,  and  wrought  so  wonderfully, 
and   that  he   has  gone  away  with  a  design  to  leave  tilings  thus. 
Who  hath  heard  such  a  thing  ?    Who  hath  seen  such  things  ?    And 
will    God,    when  he  has  wi'ought  so  wonderfully,  and  made  the 
earth  to  bring  forth  in  one  day,  bring  to  the  birth  and  not  cause  to 
bring  forth  ?  And  shall  he  cause  to  bring  forth,  and  shut  the  womb  ? 
Isaiah  Ixvi.  8,  9.     I  live  upon  the  brink  of  the  grave,  in  great  in- 
firmity of  body,  and  nothing  is  more  uncertain,  than  whether  I 
shall  live  to  see  it :  but,  I  believe  God  will  re\dve  his  work  again 
before  long,  and  that  it  will  not  wholly  cease  till  it  has  subdued  the 
whole  earth.     But  God  is  now  going  and  returning  to  his  place, 
till  we  acknowledge  our  offence,  and  I  hope  to  humble  his  church 
in  New-England,  and  purify  it,  and  so  fit  it  for  yet  greater  com- 
fort, that  he  designs  in  due  time  to  bestow  upon  it.     God  may  deal 
with  his  church,  as  he  deals  with  a  particular  saint ;  commonly,  af- 
ter his  first  comfort,  the  clouds  return,  and  there  is  a  season  of  re- 
markable darkness,  and  hiding  of  God's  face,  and  bufFefings  of  Sa- 
tan ;  but  all  to  fit  for  greater  mercy;  and  as  it  was  with  Christ  him- 
self, who,  presently  after  the  heavens  were  opened  above  his  head, 
and  the  Spirit  was  poured  out  upon  him,  and  God  wonderfully  tes- 
tified his  love  to  him,  was  driven  into  the  wilderness,  to  be  tempt- 
ed of  the  devil  forty  days.     I  hope  God  will  show  us  our  errors, 
and  teach  us  wisdom  by  his  present  withdrawings.     Now  in  the 
day  of  adversity,  we  have  time  and  cause  to  consider,  and  begin 
now  to  have  opportunity  to  see  the  consequences  of  our  conduct. 
I  wish  that  God's  ministers  and  people,  every  where,  would  take 
w^arning  by  our  errors,  and  the  calamities  that  are  the  issue  of 
them.     I   have    mentioned    several  things,   in  my  letters  to  Mr. 
M'Laurin  and   Mr.  Robe ;  another  I  might  have  mentioned,  that 
most  evidently  proves  of  ill  consequence,  that  is,  we  have  run  from 
one  extreme  to  another,  with  respect  to  talking  of  experiences; 
that  whereas  formerly  there  was  too  great   a  reservedness  in  this 
matter,  of  late  many  have  gone  to  an  unbounded  openness,   fre- 
quency and  constancy,  in  talking  of  their  experiences^declaring  al- 
most every  thing  that  passes  between  God  and   their  own   souls, 
every  where,  and  before  every  body.     Among  other  ill  conse- 
quences of  such  a  practice,  this  js  one,  that  religion  runs  all  into 


198  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWA111)S. 

that  channel ;  and  religion  is  placed  very  much  in  it,  so  that  the 
strength  of  it  seems  to  be  spent  in  it ;  that  other  duties,  that  are  of 
vastly  greater  importance,  have  been  looked  upon  as  light  in  compa- 
rison of  tliis,  so  that  other  parts  of  religion  have  been  really  much 
injured  thereby  ;  as  when  we  see  a  tree  excessively  full  of  leaves, 
v>^e  find  so  much  less  fruit ;  and  when  a  cloud  arises  w^itli  an  ex- 
cessive degree  of  wind,  we  have  the  less  rain.  How  much,  dear 
Sir,  does  God's  church  at  such  a  day,  need  the  constant  gracious 
care  and  guidance  of  our  good  Shepherd ;  and  especially,  w^e  that 
are  ministers. 

"  I  should  be  glad,  dear  Sir,  of  a  remembrance  in  your  prayers, 
and  also  of  your  help,  by  informations  and  instructions,  by  what 
3'ou  find  in  your  experience  in  Scotland.  I  believe  it  to  be  the 
duty  of  one  part  of  the  cliurch  of  God,  thus  to  help  another. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate 

"  Brother  and  serv^ant  in  Jesus  Christ, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  following  is  the  answer  of  Mr.  M'Culloch,  to  the  preceding 
letter. 

"  Cambuslang,  Aug,  13,  1743. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  The  happy  period  in  which  we  live,  and  the  times  of  refresh- 
ing from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  wherewith  you  first  were  visit- 
ed, in  Northampton,  in  the  year  1734  :  and  then,  more  generally, 
in  New  England,  in  1740,  and  1741  ;  and  then  we,  in  several  pla- 
ces in  Scotland,  in  1742,  and  1743;  and  the  strong  opposition 
made  to  this  work,  with  you  and  with  us,  checked  by  an  infinitely 
superior  Power;  often  brings  to  my  mind  that  prophecy,  Isaiah  lix. 
19  ;  "So  shall  they  fear  the  name  of  the  Lord  from  the  West ;  and 
his  glory  from  the  Rising  of  the  sun ;  When  the  enemy  shall  come 
in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  shall  Hft  up  a  standard  against 
him."  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  this  prophecy,  eminently  points 
at  our  times;  and  begins  to  be  fulfilled  in  the  multitudes  of  souls 
that  are  bringing  in  to  fear  the  Lord,  to  worship  God  in  Christ,  in 
whom  his  name  is,  and  to  see  his  glory  in  his  sanctuary.  And  it 
is,  to  me,  pretty  remarkable,  that  the  prophet  here  foretells  tliey 
should  do  so,  in  the  period  he  points  at,  not  from  East  to  West, 
but  from  West  to  East;  mentioning  the  West  before  the  East, 
contrary  to  the  usual  way  of  speaking  in  other  prophecies, 
as  where  Malachi  foretells,  that  the  name  of  the  Lord  should  be 
great  among  the  Gentiles,  from  the  Rising  of  the  sun  to  the  West, 
(Mai.  i.  11.)  And  our  Lord  Jesus,  that  many  should  come  from 
tlie  East  and  W^est,  he.  (Matthew  viii.  U.)  And  in  this  order  it 
was,  that  the  light  of  the  gospel  came  to  dawn  on  the  several  na-. 


LIFE  OF  PRESIDENT  KDWARI>S.  190 

Tions,  in  the  propagation  of  it  through  the  world.  But  the  prophet 
here,  under  the  conduct  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  who  chooses  all  his 
words  in  infinite  wisdom,  puts  the  West  before  the  East;  intend- 
ing, as  I  conceive,  thereby  to  signify,  that  the  glorious  revl\'al  of 
religion,  and  the  wide  and  difiiisive  spread  of  vital  Christianity,  in 
the  latter  times  of  the  gospel,  should  begin  in  the  more  wasterly 
parts,  and  proceed  to  these  more  easterly.  And  while  it  should  be 
doing  so,  or  shortly  after,  great  oppositon  should  arise,  the  enemy 
should  come  in  as  a  flood :  Satan  should,  with  great  violence,  as- 
sault particular  believing  souls ;  and  stir  up  men  to  malign  and  re- 
proach the  work  of  God  ;  and,  it's  likely  also,  raise  a  terrible  per- 
secution against  the  church.  But  while  the  enemy  might  seem, 
for  a  time,  to  be  thus  carrying  all  before  him,  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  shoidd  lift  up  a  standard  against  him  ;  give  a  banner  to  them 
that  fear  Him,  and  animate  them  to  display  it  for  the  truth,  and 
make  his  word  mightily  to  prevail,  and  bear  down  all  opposing 
power.  For  on  what  side  soever  the  Almighty  and  Eternal  Spi- 
rit of  Jehovah  lifts  up  a  standard,  there  the  victory  is  certain ;  and 
we  may  be  sure  he  will  Hft  it  up  in  defence  of  his  own  work.  The 
Chaldee  paraphrase  makes  the  words  in  the  latter  part  of  this  verse, 
to  allude  to  the  river  Euphrates,  when  it  breaks  over  all  ts  banks, 
and  overflows  the  adjacent  plains ;  thus,  when  persecutors  shall 
come  in,  as  the  inundation  of  the  river  Euphrates,  they  shall 
be  broke  in  pieces  by  the  w^ord  of  the  Lord. 

"  The  whole  o  this  verse  seems  to  me,  to  have  an  aspect  to  the 
present  and  past  times,  for  some  years.  The  Sun  of  Righteous-- 
ness,  has  been  making  his  course  from  West  to  East,  and  shed- 
ding his  benign  and  quickening  influences,  on  poor  forlorn  and  be- 
nighted souls  in  places  vasdy  distant  from  one  anodier.  But  clouds 
have  arisen  and  intercepted  his  reviving  beams.  The  enemy  of 
salvation  has  broke  in,  as  an  overflowing  flood,  almost  overwhelmed 
poor  souls,  newdy  come  into  the  spiritual  world,  after  they  had  got 
some  glimpse  of  the  glory  of  Christ,  with  a  deluge  of  temptations  : 
floods  of  ungodly  men,  stirred  up  by  Satan,  and  their  natural  en- 
mity at  religion,  have  affrighted  them :  mistaken  and  prejudiced 
friends  have  disowned  them.  Many  such  things  have  already  be- 
fallen the  subjects  of  this  glorious  work  of  God  of  late  years.  But 
I  apprehend  more  general  and  formidable  trials  are  yet  to  come  : 
and  that  the  enemy's  coming  in  as  a  flood,  may  relate  to  a  flood  of  er- 
rors or  persecutions  of  fierce  enemies,  rushing  in  upon  the  clnirch, 
and  threatening  to  swallow  her  up.  But  our  comfort  is,  that  the 
Spirit  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  will  lift  up  a  standard,  against  all  the 
combined  powers  of  earth  and  hell,  and  put  them  to  flight:  and 
Christ  having  begun  to  conquer,  so  remarkably,  will  go  on  from 
conquering  to  conquer,  till  the  whole  earth  be  filled  with  his  glory. 
Rev.  xii.  15;  Isaiah  xvii.  12,  13. 

"  I  mention  these  things,  dear  Sir,  not  for  your  information,  for 


200  LIIE  OF  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS. 

1  know  that  I  can  add  nothing  to  you ;  but  to  show  my  agreement 
with  you,  in  what  you  express  as  your  sentiments,  that  what  has 
now  been  a  doing  is  the  fore-runner  of  something  vastly  greater, 
more  pure,  and  more  extensive,  and  that  God  will  revive  his  work 
again,  ere  long,  and  that  it  will  not  wholly  cease,  till  it  has  subdued 
the  whole  earth :  and,  without  pretending  to  prophecy,  to  hint  a 
little  at  the  ground  of  my  expectations.  Only  I'm  afraid,  (which 
is  a  thing  you  do  not  hint  at)  that  before  these  glorious  times,  some 
dreadful  stroke  or  trial  may  yet  be  abiding  us.  May  the  Lord  pre- 
pare us  for  it.  But  as  to  this,  I  cannot  and  dare  not  peremptorily 
determine.  All  things  I  give  up  to  farther  light,  without  pretend- 
ing to  fix  the  times  and  seasons  for  God's  great  and  wonderful 
works,  which  he  has  reserved  in  his  own  power,  and  the  certain 
knowledge  of  which  he  has  locked  up  in  his  own  breast." 

The  same  conveyance  brought  Mr.  Edwards  the  following  Let- 
ter, from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Robe,  of  Kilsyth. 

''Kilsyth,  Aug,  16,  1743. 

*'  Rev.  Sir,  and  very  dear  Brother, 

*'  We  acknowledge,  with  praise  and  thanks,  the  Lord's  keeping 
his  work  hitherto,  ivith  us,  free  from  those  errors  and  disorders, 
which,  through  the  subtilty  of  the  serpent,  and  corruptions  even  of 
good  men,  were  mixed  with  it  in  New  England.  As  this  was  no 
more  just  ground  of  objection  against  what  was  among  you,  bemg 
a  real  work  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  than  the  same  things  were  against 
the  work  of  God  in  Corinth,  and  other  places,  at  the  first  conver- 
€ion  of  the  Pagans,  and  afterwards  at  the  Reformation  from  Popery  ; 
so  the  many  adversaries  to  this  blessed  work  here,  have  as  fully  made 
use  of  all  those  errors,  disorders,  and  blemishes,  against  it  there, 
as  objections,  as  if  they  had  really  been  here.  The  most  unsea- 
sonable accounts  from  America,  the  most  scurrilous  and  bitter 
pamphlets,  and  representations  from  mistaking  brethren,  were 
much  and  zealously  propagated.  Only  it  was  over-ruled  by  Pro- 
vidence, that  those  letters  and  papers  dropped  what  was  a  real  tes- 
timony to  the  goodness  of  the  work,  they  designed  to  defame  and 
render  odious.  Many  thinking  persons  concluded,  from  the  gross 
calumnies  forged  and  spread  against  the  Lord's  work  here,  within 
a  few^  miles  of  them,  that  such  stories  from  Ainerica,  could  not  be 
much  depended  upon. 

"What  you  write  about  the  trial  of  extraordinary  joys  and  rap- 
tures, by  their  concomitants  and  effects,  is  most  solid  ;  and  our 
practice,  by  all  I  know^,  hath  been  conformable  to  it.  It  hath  been 
in  the  strongest  manner  declared,  that  no  degree  of  such  rapturous 
joys  evidenced  them  to  be  from  God,  unless  they  led  to  God,  and 
carried  with  them  tliose  things  which  accompany  salvation.     Such 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  201 

conditional  applications  of  the  promises  of  grace  and  glory  as  you 
justly  recommend,  hath  been  all  along  our  manner.  A  holy  fear 
of  caution  and  watchfuhiess,  hath  been  much  pressed  upon  the  sub- 
jects of  this  work,  who  appeared  to  believe  through  grace.  And 
what  is  greatly  comfortable,  and  reason  of  great  praise  to  our  God, 
is,  that  there  is,  as  is  yet  kno\\Ti  to  any  one  in  these  bounds,  no  cer- 
tain instance  of  what  can  be  called  apostacy ;  and  not  above  four 
instances  of  any  who  have  fallen  into  any  gross  sin. 

"  As  to  the  state  and  progress  of  this  blessed  work  here,  and  in 
other  places,  it  is  as  followeth.  Since  the  account  given  in  tlie 
several  prints  of  my  narrative,  which  I  understand  is  or  will  be  at 
Boston  ;  the  awakening  of  secure  sinners  hath  and  doth  continue 
in  this  congregation  ;  but  not  in  such  multitudes  as  last  year,  neither 
can  it  be  reasonably  expected.  What  is  ground  of  joy  and  praise 
is,  that  there  scarce  hath  been  two  or  three  weeks,  but  wherein  I 
have  some  instance  of  persons  newly  awakened,  besides  several 
come  to  my  knowledge  who  have  been  awakened,  and  appear  in 
a  most  hopeful  state,  before  they  were  known  to  me.  Of  which  I 
had  an  instance  yesterday,  of  a  girl  awakened,  as  she  saith,  in  Oc- 
tober last.  I  have,  at  ^\Titing  this,  an  instance  of  a  woman  who  ap- 
pears to  have  obtained  a  good  issue  of  her  awakening  last  year : 
though  I  supposed  it  had  come  to  nothing,  through  her  intermitting 
to  come  to  me  of  a  long  time.  There  is  this  difference  in  this 
parish  betwixt  the  awakening  last  year  and  now ;  that  some  of  their 
bodies  have  been  affected  by  their  fears,  in  a  convulsive  or  hys- 
teric way;  and  yet  the  inward  distress  of  some  of  them  hath 
been  very  sharp.  I  have  seen  two  or  three,  who  have  fainted  un- 
der apprehension  of  the  hiding  of  God's  face,  or  of  their  having  re- 
ceived the  Lord's  supper  unworthily.  In  some  of  the  neighbour- 
ing congregations,  where  this  blessed  work  was  last  year,  there  are 
instances  of  discernible  awakenings,  this  summer.  In  the  large  pa- 
rish of  St.  Ninians,  to  the  north  of  this,  I  was  \\dtness  to  the  awaken- 
ing of  some,  and  conversed  with  others  awakened,  the  middle  of  July 
last.  In  the  parish  of  Sintrie  to  the  west  of  St.  Ninians  there  were 
several  newly  awakened  at  the  giving  the  Lord's  supper,  about  the 
end  of  July.  In  Gargunnock,  Kippen,  Killern  farther  north  and  west, 
the  Lord's  work  is  yet  discernible.  At  Muthel,  which  is  about  twen- 
ty miles  north  from  this,  the  minister  wrote  me  about  the  middle  of 
July,  that  this  blessed  work,  which  hath  appeared  there  since  last 
summer  as  at  Cambuslang,  yet  continued  ;  and  hath  spread  into 
other  parishes,  and  reacheth  even  to  the  Highlands  bordering  upon 
that  parish. 

"  I  am  not  without  hopes  of  having  good  accounts  of  the  out- 
pouring of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the  shires  of  Rosse  and  Nairn  among 
the  northermost  parts  of  Scotland.  There  was  more  than  ordinary 
seriousness,  in  some  parishes,  in  hearing  the  word,  and  in  a  con- 
cern about  their  souls,  in  the  spring,  wben  I  saw  some  godly  minis- 

VoL.  I.  26 


202  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ters  from  those  bounds.  This  moro  than  ordinary  senonsness  in 
hearing,  and  about  communion  times,  is  observable  in  several  parts 
in  Scotland,  this  summer.  Societies  for  prayer  setting  up  where 
there  w^ere  none,  and  in  other  places  increasing.  A  concern  among 
the  young  are  in  some  of  the  least  hopeful  places  in  Scotland,  par- 
ticularly in  the  Meuse  near  the  English  borders.  There  is  a  great 
likelihood  of  the  Lord's  doing  good  by  the  gospel,  in  this  discerni- 
ble way,  in  those  bounds.  INIr.  M'Laurin,  my  dear  brother,  gives 
you  an  account  of  the  progress  of  tliis  work  to  the  west  of  Glas- 
gow, and  other  places.  There  have  been  very  extraordinary 
manifestations  of  the  love  of  God,  in  Christ  Jesus,  unto  his  people, 
in  the  use  of  the  holy  supper,  and  in  the  dispensation  of  the  word 
about  that  time,  this  summer :  Which  hath  made  the  Lord's^  peo- 
ple desire  it  a  second  time  in  these  congregations  during  the  sum- 
mer season.  It  was  given  here  upon  the  first  Sabbath  of  July, 
and  is  to  be  given  hero  next  Lord's  tlay,  a  second  time,  upon  such 
a  desire. 

"  Your  affectionate  brother  and  servant 
"  In  our  dearest  Lord, 

"  James  Robe." 


CHAPTER  Xri 

First  Interview  with  David  Brainerd, — Separations  from  Church- 
es.— Letter  to  Rev.  Mr.  Whitman. —  Correspondence  with  Mr. 
Clap. —  Character  of  that  gentleman.— Sermon  at  the  Ordina- 
tion of  Mr.  Ahercromhie. — Letter  to  Mr.  M^  Cxdloch. — Vieivs 
of  the  Prophecies^  relative  to  the  Church. — Sermon  at  the  Ordi- 
nation of  Mr.  BuelL 

In  September,  1743,  Mr.  Edwards,  while  attending  the  public 
commencement  at  New  Haven,  first  became  acquainted  widi  David 
Brainerd,  then  a  Missionary  at  Kaunaumeek.  Brainerd,  when  a 
sophomore  in  college,  in  consequence  of  some  indiscreet  remarks, 
uttered  in  the  ardour  of  his  religious  zeal,  respecting  the  opposition 
of  two  of  the  Faculty  to  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Whitefield,  but  which 
a  generous  mind  would  have  wholly  disregarded,  had  been  expel- 
led from  the  college.  As  this  Avas  the  commencement,  at  which 
his  class  were  to  receive  the  degree  of  A.  B.,  he  came  to  New 
Haven  to  attempt  a  reconciliation  with  the  Faculty,  and  made  to 
them  a  truly  humble  and  christian  acknowledgment  of  his  fault. 
"  I  was  witness,"  says  Mr.  Edwards,  "  to  the  very  christian  spirit 
which  Brainerd  showed  at  that  time  ;  being  then  at  New  Haven, 
and  one  whom  he  thought  fit  to  consult  on  that  occasion.  There 
truly  appeared  in  him  a  great  degree  ol  calmness  and  humility ; 
without  the  least  appearance  of  rising  of  spirit  for  any  ill-treatment 
which  he  supposecl  he  had  suffered,  or  the  least  backwardness  to 
abase  himself  before  those,  who,  as  he  thought,  had  wronged  him. 
What  he  did  was  without  any  objecfion  or  appearance  of  reluc- 
tance, even  in  j^rivate  to  his  friends,  to  whom  he  freely  opened 
himself.  Earnest  application  was  made  on  his  behalf,  that  he  might 
have  his  degree  then  given  him  ;  and  particularly  by  the  Rev.  ]\Ir. 
Burr  of  Newark,  one  of  the  Correspondents  of  the  Honourable 
Society,  in  Scotland ;  he  being  sent  from  New  Jersey  to  New  Ha- 
ven, by  the  rest  of  the  Commissioners,  for  that  end ;  and  many 
arguments  were  used,  but  without  success.  He  desired  his  degree, 
as  he  thought  it  would  tend  to  his  being  more  extensively  useful ; 
but  still,  when  he  was  denied  it,  he  manifested  no  disappointment 
nor  resentment." 

I  HAVE  already  alluded  to  the  numerous  separations  of  individual 
members,  from  the  churches  to  which  they  belonged,  which  occur- 


204  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

red  about  this  period,  and  usually  for  the  alleged  want  of  piety, 
either  of  the  minister  or  of  the  church.  As  these  commonly  took 
place  without  a  regular  dismission,  it  became  a  practical  question 
of  some  interest,  how  the  withdrawing  members  should  be  treated^ 
Mr.  Edwards,  ha\ing  been  consulted  on  this  subject,  with  refer- 
ence to  some  of  the  members  of  the  second  church  in  Hartford, 
who  had  thus  withdrawn,  addressed  the  following  letter  to  the  min- 
ister of  that  church. 

"  To  the  Rev.  Elnathan  Whitman,  of  Hartford,  Connecticut. 

"  JVorthampton,  Feb.  9,  1744. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Mr.  P was  here  this  week,  and  requested  my  opinion, 

with  respect  to  the  proper  treatment  of  a  number  of  persons,  wiio 
have  absented  themselves  from  your  meeting,  and  have  since 
attended  public  Avorship  in  W .  I  declined  giving  any  opin- 
ion, except  a  very  general  one,  to  him ;  but,  on  reflexion,  have 
concluded  to  express  my  thoughts  to  you,  as  a  friend,  leaving  you 
to  attach  to  them  such  weight,  as  you  may  see  cause. 

"  As  to  differences,  among  professing  christians,  of  opinion  and 
practice,  about  things  that  appertain  to  rehgion,  and  the  w^orship  of 
God,  I  am  ready  to  think  that  you  and  I  are  agreed,  as  to  the  ge- 
neral principles  of  liberty  of  conscience ;  and  that  men's  using 
methods  with  their  neighbours,  to  oblige  tliem  to  a  conformity  to 
their  sentiments  or  w^ay,  is  in  nothing  so  unreasonable,  as  in  the 
worship  of  God  ;  because  that  is  a  business,  in  which  each  person 
acts  for  himself,  with  his  Creator  and  Supreme  Judge,  as  one  con- 
cerned for  his  own  acceptance  A^ith  him  ;  and  on  which  depends 
his  own,  and  not  his  neighbour's,  eternal  happiness,  and  salvation 
from  everlasting  ruin.  And  it  is  an  affair,  wherein  every  man  is 
infinitely  more  concerned  widi  his  Creator,  than  he  is  with  his  neigh- 
bour. And  so  I  suppose,  that  it  will  be  allowed,  that  every  man 
ought  to  be  left  to  his  own  conscience,  in  what  he  judges  will  be- 
most  acceptable  to  God,  or  what  he  supposes  is  the  will  of  God,  as 
to  the  kind,  or  manner,  or  means  of  w^orship,  or  the  society  of  wor- 
shippers he  should  join  with  in  worship.  Not  but  that  a  great 
abuse,  may  be  made  of  this  doctrine  of  liberty  of  conscience,  in  the 
worsliip  of  God.  I  know  that  many  are  ready  to  justify  every 
thing  in  their  owti  conduct,  from  this  doctrine,  and  I  do  not  suppose 
that  men's  pretence  of  conscience,  is  always  to  be  regarded,  when 
made  use  of  to  justify  their  charging  the  society  of  worshippers 
tliey  unite  with,  or  the  means  of  their  worship,  or  indeed  the  kind 
or  manner  of  their  worship.  JNIen  may  make  this  pretence  at 
times  under  such  circumstances,  that  they  may,  obviously,  be  wor- 
thy of  no  credit  in  what  they  pretend.  It  may  be  manifest  from  the 
nature  and  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  their  own  manner  of  be- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  205 

haviour,  that  it  is  not  conscience,  but  petulancy,  and  malice,  and 
wilfulness,  and  obstinacy,  that  influence  them.  And,  therefore,  it 
seems  to  me  evident,  that,  when  such  pleas  are  made,  those  that 
are  especially  concerned  with  them  as  persons  that  are  peculiarly 
obliged  to  take  care  of  their  souls,  have  no  other  way  to  do,  but  to 
consider  the  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  case,  and  from  thence 
to  judge  whether  the  case  be  such  as  will  admit  of  such  a  plea,  or 
whether  the  nature  of  things  will  admit  of  such  a  supposition,  that 
the  men  act  conscientiously  in  what  they  do,  considering  all  things 
that  appertain  to  the  case.  And  in  this,  I  conceive,  many  things 
are  to  be  considered  and  laid  together,  as — the  nature  of  that  thing 
that  is  the  subject  of  controversy ,^-or  wherein  they  differ  from 
others,  or  have  changed  their  own  practice — the  degree  in  which  it 
is  disputable,  or  how  it  may  be  supposed  liable  to  diversity  of  opin- 
ion, one  way  or  the  other,  as  to  its  agreeableness  to  the  word  of 
God,  and  as  to  the  importance  of  it,  with  regard  to  men's  salvation 
or  the  good  of  their  souls — the  degree  of  knowledge  or  ignorance 
of  the  persons,  the  advantages  they  had  for  information,  or  the  dis- 
advantages they  have  been  under,  and  what  has  been  in  their  cir- 
cumstances that  might  mislead  the  judgment — the  principles  that 
have  been  instilled  into  them — the  instructions  they  have  received 
from  those,  of  whose  piety  and  wisdom  they  have  had  an  high  opin- 
ion, which  might  misguide  the  judgment  of  persons  of  real  honesty, 
and  sincerity,  and  tender  conscience — the  example  of  others — ^the 
diversity  of  opinion  among  ministers — the  general  state  of  things  in 
the  land — the  character  of  the  persons  themselves — and  tlie  man- 
ner of  their  behaviour  in  the  particular  affair  in  debate. 

"  Now,  Sir,  with  regard  to  those  persons  that  have  gone  from 
you,  to  W ,  however  you  may  look  upon  their  behaviour  here- 
in as  very  disorderly,  yet,  if  you  suppose  (the  case  being  consider- 
ed with  all  its  circumstances)  that  there  was  any  room  for  charity, 
that  it  might  be  through  infirmity,  ignorance  and  error  of  judgment, 
so  that  they  might  be  truly  conscientious  in  it ;  that  is,  might  really 
believe  it  to  be  their  duty,  and  what  God  required  of  them,  to  do 
as  they  have  done  ;  you  would,  I  imagine,  by  no  means  think,  that 
they  ought  to  be  proceeded  with,  in  the  use  of  such  means  as  are 
proper  to  be  used  with  contumacious  offenders,  or  those  that  are 
stubborn  and  obstinate  in  scandalous  vice  and  wilful  wickedness; 
or  that  you  would  think  it  proper  to  proceed  with  persons,  towards 
whom  there  is  this  room  left  for  charity,  that  possibly  they  may  be 
honest  and  truly  conscientious,  acting  as  persons  afraid  to  offend 
God,  so  as  to  cut  them  off  from  the  communion  of  the  Lord,  and 
cast  them  forth  into  the  visible  kingdom  of  Satan,  to  be  as  harlots 
and  publicans. 

"  Now,  it  may  be  well  to  examine,  whether  it  can  positively 
be  determined,  when  all  things  are  taken  into  consideration  with 
respect  to  these  persons,  who  have  absented  themselves  from  your 


206  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

assembly,  that  it  is  not  possible  in  their  case,  that  this  might  really 
be  their  honest  judgment,  that  it  was  their  duty  to  do  so,  and  that 
God  required  it  oAhem,  and  that  they  should  greatly  expose  the 
welfare  of  their  own  souls,  in  attending  no  other  public  worship 
but  that  in  your  congregation.  I  suppose  these  persons  are  not 
much  versed  in  casuistical  divinity.  They  are  of  the  common 
people,  whose  judgments,  in  all  nations  and  ages,  are  exceedingly 
led  and  swayed.  They  are  not  very  capable  of  vie\\ing  things 
in  the  extent  of  their  consequences,  and  of  estimating  things  in 
their  true  weight  and  importance.  And  you  know,  dear  Sir,  the 
state  that  things  have  been  in,  in  the  country.  You  know  what 
opinions  have  lately  prevailed,  and  have  been  maintained  and  propa- 
gated by  those  that  have  been  lifted  up  to  heaven,  in  their  reputa- 
tion for  piety  and  great  knowledge  in  spiritual  things,  with  a  great 
part  of  the  people  of  New-England.  I  do  not  pretend  to  know 
what  has  influenced  these  people,  in  particular ;  but  I  think,  under 
these  circumstances,  it  would  be  no  strange  thing,  if  great  numbers 
of  the  common  people  in  the  country,  who  are  really  conscientious, 
and  concerned  to  be  accepted  with  God,  and  to  take  the  best  course 
for  the  good  of  their  souls^  should  really  think  in  their  hearts  that 
God  requires  them  to  attend  the  ministry  of  those  that  are  called 
JVew  Light  Ministers,  and  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  their 
souls,  and  what  God  approved  not  of,  ordinarily  to  attend  the  min- 
istry of  others  ;  yea,  I  should  think  it  strange  if  it  were  otherv\'ise. 
It  ought  to  be  considered,  how  pubhc  controversy,  and  a  great  and 
general  cry  in  matters  of  rehgion,  strongly  influences  the  conduct  of 
multitudes  of  the  common  people,  how  it  blinds  their  minds,  and 
wonderfully  misleads  their  judgments.  And  the  rules  of  the  Gos- 
pel, and  the  example  of  the  Apostles,  most  certainly  require  that 
great  allowances  be  made  in  such  cases.  And  particularly  the  ex- 
ample of  the  Apostle  Paul,  with  regard  to  great  numbers  of  profes- 
sing christians,  in  the  church  of  Corhith ;  who,  in  a  time  of  great 
and  general  confusion  in  that  church,  through  the  evil  instructions 
of  teachers  whom  they  admired,  wiio  misled  and  blinded  their 
judgments,  ran  into  many  and  great  disorders  in  their  worship,  and 
woful  schisms  and  divisions  among  themselves — particularly  with 
regard  to  ministers,  and  even  with  regard  to  the  Apostle  Paul  him- 
self, whom  many  of  them  seem  for  a  time  to  have  forsaken,  to  fol- 
low others  wiio  set  up  themselves  in  opposition  to  him ;  though,  as 
he  says,  he  had  been  their  father  who  begat  them  through  the 
Gospel.  Yet  with  how  much  gentleness  does  the  Apostle  treat 
them,  still  acknowledging  them  as  brethren ;  and  though  he  re- 
quired church  censures  to  be  used  wixh.  regard  to  the  incestuous 
person,  yet  there  is  no  intimation  of  the  Apostle  taking  any  such 
course,  with  those  that  had  been  misled  by  these  false  teachers,  or 
with  any  that  had  been  guilty  of  these  disorders,  except  with  tlie 
false  teachers  themselves.     But  as  soon  as  they  are  brought  off 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  207 

from  fojlo^^^ng  these  false  apostles  any  longer,  he  embraces  them 
without  further  ado,  with  all  the  love  and  tenderness  of  a  father; 
burying  all  their  censoriousness,  and  schisms,  and  disorders,  at  the 
Lord's  Supper,  as  well  as  their  ill  treatment  of  him,  the  extraordi- 
nary messenger  of  Christ  to  them.  And  indeed,  the  Apostle  nev- 
er so  much  as  gave  any  direction  for  the  suspension  of  any  one 
member  from  the  Lord's  Supper,  on  account  of  these  disorders,  or 
from  any  other  part  of  the  pubhc  worship  of  God ;  but  instead  of 
tliis,  gives  them  directions  how  they  shall  go  on  to  attend  the  Lord's 
Supper,  and  other  parts  of  worship,  in  a  better  manner.  And  he 
himself,  without  suspension  or  interruption,  goes  on  to  call  and 
treat  them  as  beloved  brethren,  christians,  sanctified  in  Christ  Je- 
sus, called  to  be  saints  ;  and  praises  God  in  their  behalf,  for  the 
grace  that  is  given  to  them  by  Christ  Jesus  ;  and  often  and  abun- 
dantly exhibits  his  charity  towards  them,  in  innumerable  expres- 
sions which  I  might  mention.  And  nothing  is  more  apparent,  than 
that  he  does  not  treat  them  as  persons,  with  respect  to  whom,  there 
lies  a  bar  in  the  way  of  others  treating  them,  with  the  charity  that 
belongs  to  saints,  and  good  and  honest  members  of  the  christian 
church,  until  the  bar  be  removed  by  a  church  process.  And  in- 
deed, the  insisting  on  a  church  process  with  every  member  that 
has  behaved  disorderly,  in  such  a  state  of  general  confusion,  is  not 
a  way  to  build  up  the  church  of  God,  (which  is  the  end  of  church 
disciphne,)  but  to  pull  it  down.  It  will  not  be  the  way  to  cure  a 
diseased  member,  but  to  bring  a  disease  on  the  whole  body. 

"  I  am  not  alone  in  these  sentiments ;  but  I  have  reason  to  think 
tliat  Col.  Stoddard,  from  the  conversation  I  have  had  with  him,  is 
in  tlie  like  way  of  thinking.  There  came  hither,  the  last  fall,  two 
young  men  belonging  to  the  church  at  New^-Haven,  who  had  been 
members  of  Mr.  Noyes's  church,  but  had  left  it  and  joined  the 
separate  church,  and  entered  into  covenant  with  it,  when  that 
church  was  embodied.  This  was  looked  upon  as  a  crime, 
that  ought  not  to  be  passed  over,  by  Mr.  Noyes  and  the  Rector. 
They  declared  themselves  wiUing  to  return  to  Mr.  Noyes's  meet- 
ing ;  but  a  particular  confession  was  required  of  them  in  the  meet- 
ing-house. Accordingly,  each  of  them  had  offered  a  confession, 
but  it  was  not  thought  sufficient ;  but  it  was  required  that  they 
should  add  some  things,  of  which  they  thought  hard ;  and  they  con- 
sulting me  about  it,  I  acquainted  Col.  Stoddard  with  the  affair,  and 
desired  his  thoughts.  He  said  he  looked  upon  it  unreasonable,  to 
require  any  confession  at  all ;  and  that,  considering  the  general 
state  of  confusion  tliat  had  existed,  and  the  instructions  and  exam- 
ples these  young  men  had  had,  it  might  well  be  looked  upon  enough, 
that  they  were  now  willing  to  change  their  practice,  and  return 
again  to  Mr.  Noyes's  meeting.  Not  that  you,  Rev.  Sir,  are  obliged 
to  think  as  Col.  Stoddard  does ;  yet  I  think,  considering  his  char- 
acter and  relation,  his  judgment  may  well  be  of  so  much  weight, 


208  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

as  to  engage  you  the  more  to  attend  to  and  weigh  the  reasons 
he  gives. 

"The  objections,  that  these  persons  may  have  had  against  ordi- 
narily attending  your  meeting,  may  be  veiy  trivial ;  but  yet  I  sup- 
pose that,  through  infirmity,  the  case  may  be  so  with  truly  honest 
christians,  that  trivial  things  may  have  great  weight  in  their  con- 
sciences, so  as  to  have  fast  hold  of  them,  until  tliey  are  better  en- 
lightened :  As  in  the  former  times  of  the  country,  it  was  with 
respect  to  the  controversy  between  Presbyterians  and  Congrega- 
tionahsts.  It  was,  as  I  have  heard  in  those  days,  real  matter  of 
question  with  some,  wiiether  a  Presbyterian,  living  and  dying  such, 
could  be  saved.  Some  Presbyterians,  that  have  lived  with  us, 
have  desired  baptism  for  their  children,  who  yet  lived  in  neglect 
of  the  ordinances  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  because  of  a  difference 
in  some  trivial  circumstances  of  the  administration,  from  the  meth- 
od of  the  church  of  Scotland.  This  matter  being  discoursed  of, 
it  was  thought  by  Col.  Stoddard  in  particular,  that  their  neglect 
ought  to  be  borne  with,  and  they  ought  to  be  looked  upon  as  clii'is- 
tians,  and  their  children  received  to  baptism ;  because,  how^ever 
trivial  the  foundation  of  their  scruples  were,  yet  through  ignorance 
they  might  be  honest  and  conscientious  in  them. 

"  As  to  the  church  covenant,  that  these  persons  have  entered  in- 
to, wherein  they  have  obliged  themselves  ordinarily  to  join  in  tlie 
worship  of  that  church  ;  I  suppose  none  interpret  the  promises  of  a 
church  covenant  in  such  a  sense,  as  to  exclude  all  reserves  of  lib- 
erty, in  case  of  an  alteration  of  the  judgment,  in  the  affairs  of  con- 
science and  religion,  in  one  respect  or  another.  As  if  a  person, 
after  incorporating  with  a  Congregational  church,  should  become  a 
conscientious  Episcopalian,  or  Anabaptist,  or  should,  by  any  change 
of  judgment,  come  to  think  the  means  or  manner  of  worship  un- 
lawful; and  so  in  other  respects  that  might  be  mentioned. 

"  And  if  it  be  so  tliat  these  persons,  in  some  of  their  conversa- 
tion and  behaviour,  have  manifested  a  contentious,  froward  spirit, 
at  the  time  of  their  withdrawing  from  your  church ;  I  confess  tliis 
gives  greater  ground  of  suspicion  of  the  sincerity  of  their  plea  of 
conscience ;  yet,  as  to  this,  I  humbly  conceive  allo^vances  must  be 
made.  It  must  be  considered,  that  it  is  possible  that  persons,  in 
an  affair  of  this  nature,  may,  in  the  tiling  itself,  be  conscientious, 
and  yet,  in  the  com'se  of  the  management  of  it,  may  be  guilty  of 
very  corrupt  mixtures  of  passion  and  every  evil  disposition  ;  as  in- 
deed is  commonly  the  case  with  men,  in  long  controversies  of 
whatever  nature,  and  even  with  conscientious  men.  And  there- 
fore, it  appears  to  me,  that  if  persons  in  such  a  case  are  not  obsti- 
nate, in  what  is  amiss  in  them  in  this  respect,  and  don't  attempt  to 
justify  their  frowardness  and  unchristian  speeches,  they  notwith- 
standing may  deserve  credit,  when  diey  profess  themselves  con- 
scientious in  the  affair  in  general. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  209 

"  Thus,  deal-  Sir,  I  have  freely  communicated  to  you  some  of 
my  thoughts,  with  regard  to  some  of  the  concerns  of  this  difficult 
day,  w^hich  prove  a  trouble  to  you ;  not  however  with  any  aim  at 
directing  your  conduct,  but  merely  to  comply  with  the  request  to 
which  I  have  alluded.  I  am  fully  sensible,  that  I  am  not  the  Pas- 
tor of  the  second  church  of  Hartford  ;  and  I  only  desire  you  w^ould 
impartially  consider  the  reasons  I  have  offered.  Begging  of  Christ, 
our  common  Lord,  that  he  would  direct  you  in  your  theory  and 
practice,  to  that  wliich  will  be  acceptable  in  his  sight, 
"  I  remain.  Rev.  Sir, 

"  Your  friend  and  brother, 

"  Jonathan  Edw^ards." 

In  May,  1743,  Mr.  Edwards  w^ent,  as  he  often  did,  to  Boston, 
to  attend  the  convention  of  the  clergy,  which  is  held  the  day  after 
the  General  Election.     He  was  on  horseback,  and  had  his  eldest 
daughter  on  a  pillion  behind  him.     At  Brookfield,  they  fell  in 
company  with  the "  Rev.  Mr.  Clap,  Rector  of  Yale  College,  his 
wife  and  son-in-law,   also  on  horseback,  with  several  others,   all 
travelling  m  the   same   direction ;  and  Mr.  Edwards,  joining  the 
company,  rode  side  by  side  with  Mr.  Clap,  during  a  considerable 
part  of  the  journey.     At  the  Commencement  of  Harvard  College 
in  the  following  year,  1744,  Mr.  Clap  stated,  before  a  large  num- 
ber of  gentlemen,  both  at  Boston  and  Cambridge,  that,  while  riding 
through  Leicester,  in  May  of  the  year  preceding,  he  was  informed 
by  Mr.  Edwards,  that  Mr.  Whitefield  told  Mm,  "  that  he  had  the 
design  of  turning  out  of  their  places  the  greater  part  of  the  clergy 
of  New-England,  and  of  supplying  their  pulpits  with  ministers  from 
England,  Scotland  and  Ireland."     This  statement  surprized  those 
who  heard  it ;  yet,  commg  from  such  a  source,  it  w-as  believed,  and 
extensively  circulated.     Mr.  Edwards  heard  of  it  with  astonish- 
ment, and  without  hesitation  denied  that  he  had  said  so.    ]Mr.  Clap, 
hearing  of  this  denial,  addressed  a  letter  to  Mr.   Edwards,  ^  dated 
Oct.  12,  1744,  in  which  he  stated  anew  the  alleged  conversation,  in 
the  same  terms ;  but  before  the  latter  received  it,  he  had  forward- 
ed a  letter  to  Mr.  Clap,  dated  Oct.  18,  1744,  showing  him  his  mis- 
take, and  calling  on  him  to  correct  it.     On  Oct.  29tli,  he  wTOte  a 
reply  to  Mr.  Clap's  letter  of  the  12th;  and  receiving  another,  dat- 
ed Oct.  28th,  before  he  sent  it,  he  repUed  to  that  also  in  the  Post- 
script, under  date  of  Nov.  3d.     Mr.   Clap,  finding  that  Mr.  Ed- 
wards'   contradiction  of  his  statement  was  believed ;  and  having 
heard,  though  incorrectly,  that  Mr.  Edwards  was  about  to  publish 
such  a  contradiction ;  incautiously  published  a  letter  to  his  friend 
in  Boston,  in  which  he  not  only  re-asserted  his  former  statement, 
but  declared  that  Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  private  correspondence  with 
him  on  the  subject,  had  made  a  declaration,  equally  full  and  strongs 
to  tlie  same  point.     Mr.  Edwards  published  a  reply,  in  a  letter  to 
his  friend  in  Boston,  dated  Feb.  4,  1745 ;  m  which  he  gave  his 
Vol.  I.  27 


210  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWA11D3, 

two  letters  of  Oct.  18,  and  Oct.  29,  with  the  Postscript  of  Nov.  3 ; 
from  which  it  appears  that,  instead  of  admitting  the  truth  of  Mr. 
Clap's  statement,  he  had  most  exphcitly  and  solemnly  denied  it ; 
and,  in  order  to  show  how^  Mr.  Clap  might  have  been  led  into  the 
mistake,  acknowledged  that  he  himself  supposed  that  Mr.  White- 
field  was  formerly  of  the  opinion,  that  unconverted  ministers  ought 
not  to  be  continued  in  the  ministry ;  and  that  he  himself  supposed 
that  Mr.  Whitefield  endeavoured  to  propagate  this  opinion,  and  a 
practice  agreeable  to  it ;  and  that  all  he  had  ever  stated  to  any  one 
was,  his  own  opinion  merely,  and  not  any  declared  design  of  Mr. 
Whitefield.  He  also  admitted,  that  INIr.  Whitefield  told  him  he  in- 
tended to  bring  over  a  number  of  young  men,  to  be  ordained  by 
the  Messrs.  Tennents,  in  New^-Jersey.  He  then  asks,  whether 
this  is  the  same  thing  as  Mr.  Clap  asserted,  and  suggests  a  variety 
of  arguments,  which  seem  absolutely  conclusive,  that  he  could  nev- 
er have  made  such  a  statement. 

Mr.  Clap,  in  reply  to  this,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Edwards,  dated 
April  1,  1745,  enters  seriously  upon  the  task  of  showing  that  Mr. 
Edwards'  assertion — "  that  ]Mr.  Whitefield  told  him,  tliat  he  intend- 
ed to  bring  over  a  number  of  young  men,  to  be  ordained  by  the 
Messrs.  Tennents,  in  New- Jersey" — connected  with  the  assertion 
' — that  Mr.  Edwards  himself  supposed,  that  j\Ir.  Whitefield  was 
formerly  of  the  opinion,  that  unconverted  ministers  ought  not  to  be 
continued  in  the  ministry,  and  that  Mr.  Edwards  himself  supposed 
that  Mr.  Whitefield  endeavoured  to  propagate  this  opinion,  and  a 
practice  agreeable  to  it : — was  equivalent  to  jMr.  Edwards'  saying, 
that  ]Mr.  Whitefield  told  him,  "that  he  had  the  design  of  turning 
out  of  their  places  the  greater  part  of  the  clergy  of  New-England, 
and  of  supplying  their  places  witli  ministers  from  England,  Scotland 
and  Ireland." 

Mr.  Edwards,  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Clap,  of  May  20,  1745,  after 
exposing  in  a  few  words,  the  desperate  absurdity  of  this  attempt, 
enters  on  the  discussion  of  the  question — Whether  he  ever  made 
Buch  a  statement  to  Mr.  Clap  ? — with  as  much  calmness  as  he  af- 
terwards exhibited,  in  examining  the  question  of  a  self-determining 
power  ;  and  with  such  logical  precision  of  argument,  that  probably 
no  one  of  his  readers  ever  had  a  doubt  left  upon  his  mind,  with  re- 
gard to  it : — no,  not  even  his  antagonist  himself;  for  he  never 
thought  proper  to  attempt  a  reply  ;  and  in  the  public  protest  of  the 
Faculty  of  Yale  College,  against  Mr.  Whitefield,  he  and  his  asso- 
ciates in  ofiice  say,  in  alluding  to  this  very  conversation,  "  You 
told  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards  of  Northampton,  that  you  intended  to 
bring  over  a  number  of  young  men  from  England,  to  be  ordained 
by  the  Tennents."  Those,  who  have  an  opportunity  of  reading 
these  communications,  will  find,  in  those  of  Mr.  Edwards,  an  ex- 
ample of  a  personal  controversy,  conducted  throughout,  and  to  a 
very  uncommon  degree,  in  the  spirit  of  the  gentleman  and  the 
christian. 


Life  of  prssident  edwards.  211 

This  occurred  at  a  period  of  great  excitement,  when  many  mi- 
nisters had  been  removed,  and  many  churches  rent  asunder  ;  and 
when  the  minds  of  men  were  of  course  prepared  beforehand  to 
believe  every  thing,  that  favoured  their  own  side  of  the  question.  Mr. 
Clap  was,  in  this  case,  obviously  mistaken  :  still  he  was  truly  a  man 
of  respectability  and  worth.  He  had  a  powerful  mind,  rich  in  in- 
vention, and  stored  with  knowledge,  was  profoundly  versed  in  Ma- 
thematics, Physics  and  Astronomy,  as  well  as  the  principles  of  Law, 
and  proved  an  able  instructor  and  governor  of  the  institution,  over 
which  he  presided.  He  was  elected  by  a  Board  of  Trustees,  ex- 
clusively Arminian  in  sentiment,  and  all  his  associates  in  office  held 
the  same  tenets.  At  the  same  time,  though  he  entered  warmly 
into  the  controversy  relative  to  Mr.  Whitefield,  from  a  full  convic- 
tion that  it  was  his  design  to  occasion  the  separation  of  churches,  and 
to  procure,  as  far  as  possible,  the  ejectment  of  all  whom  he  regard- 
ed as  unconverted  ministers  ;  and  was  doubtless  happy  in  suppos- 
ing himself  able  to  prove  that  such  was  his  avowed  design,  on  the 
testimony  of  one  of  his  warmest  friends  ;  yet  he  w^as  far  from  taking 
the  low  ground  of  orthodoxy  assumed  by  many  on  the  same  side, 
but  always  adhered  to  the  doctrines  of  grace,  and  ultimately  be- 
came their  champion.  Sometime  after  this,  he  showed  his  magna- 
nimity, by  introducing  the  Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  as  a 
classic  in  the  college. 

In  August,  1744,  Mr.  Edwards  preached  the  Sermon  entitled 
"  The  True  Excellency  of  a  Gospel  Minister,"  at  the  ordination 
of  Mr.  Robert  Abercrombie,  to  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel,  at  Pel- 
ham.  This  gentleman  was  from  Scotland,  having  been  made 
known  to  Mr.  Edwards  by  his  correspondents  in  that  country  ;  and 
through  his  kind  offices  was  inti'oduced  to  the  people  at  Pelham, 
The  Sermon  w^as  immediately  published. 

The  reader  will  probably  recollect,  that  Mr.  M'Culloch,  in  his 
Letter  of  August  13,  1743,  had  expressed  the  opinion,  that  the 
Church  of  God,  pre\4ous  to  her  ultimate  extension  and  triumph,  was 
destined  to  meet  with  "more  extensive  and  formidable  trials,"  than 
she  had  ever  before  experienced.  Mr.  Edwards,  from  a  minute 
investigation  of  the  Scriptural  Prophecies,  having  been  convinced 
that  this,  which  w-as  at  that  time  the  commonly  received  opinion  of 
the  church,  was  erroneous ;  expresses  his  dissent  from  it  in  the 
following  answer. 

^' JVorthampton,  March  5,  1744. 

"  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  M'Culloch. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  return  you  thanks  for  your  most  obliging,  entertaining  and 
instructive,  Letter,  dated  Aug,  13,  1743,  which  I  received  about 


212  LIFE    QF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  latter  end  of  October  ;  my  answering  which  has  been  unhap- 
pily delayed,  by  reason  of  my  distance  from  Boston,  and  not  being 
able  to  find  any  opportunity  to  send  thither,  till  the  ship  was  gone 
that  brought  your  letter  ;  which  I  much  regretted.  My  delaying 
to  answer  has  been  far  from  arising  from  any  indifference  with  re- 
spect to  this  correspondence,  by  which  I  am  sensible  I  am  highly 
honoured  and  privileged. 

"  'Tis  probable  that  you  have  been  informed,  by  other  corres- 
pondents, before  now,  w^hat  the  present  state  of  things  in  New  Eng- 
land is :  it  is  indeed,  on  many  accounts,  very  melancholy :  there  is 
a  vast  alteration  within  these  tw^o  years  ;  for  about  so  long  I  think 
it  is,  since  the  Spirit  of  God  began  to  withdraw,  and  tliis  great  work 
has  been  on  the  decline.  Great  numbers  in  the  land,  about  t^vo 
years  ago,  were  raised  to  an  exceedingly  great  height,  in  joy  and 
elevation  of  mind ;  and  through  want  of  watchfulness,  and  sensi- 
bleness  of  the  danger  and  temptation  that  there  is  in  such  circum- 
stances, many  were  greatly  exposed,  and  the  devil  taking  the  ad- 
vantage, multitudes  were  soon,  and  to  themselves  insensibly,  led 
far  away  from  God  and  their  duty ;  God  was  provoked  that  he  was 
not  sanctified  in  this  height  of  advancement,  as  he  ought  to  have 
been,  he  saw  our  spiritual  pride  and  self-confidence,  and  the  pol- 
luted flames  that  arose  of  intemperate,  unhallowed  zeal ;  and  he 
soon,  in  a  great  measure,  withdrew^  from  us ;  and  the  consequence 
has  been,  that  the  Enemy  has  come  in  like  a  flood,  in  various  re- 
spects, until  the  deluge  has  overwhelmed  the  whole  land.  Tliere 
had,  from  the  beginning,  been  a  great  mixture,  especially  in  some 
places,  of  false  experiences,  and  false  Religion  with  true  ;  but  from 
about  this  time,  the  mixture  became  much  greater,  many  w^ere  led 
away  with  sad  delusions ;  and  this  opened  the  door  for  the  Enemy 
to  come  in  like  a  flood  in  another  respect,  it  gave  great  advantages 
to  these  enemies  and  opposers  of  tliis  work,  furnished  them  with 
weapons  and  gave  them  ne^v  courage,  and  has  laid  the  fiiends  of  the 
work  under  such  disadvantage,  that  nothing  that  they  could  da 
would  avail  any  thing  to  withstand  their  violence.  And  now  it  is 
come  to  that,  that  the  work  is  put  to  a  stop  every  where,  and  it  is  a 
day  of  the  Enemy's  triumph  :  but  I  believe  also  a  day  of  God's 
People's  Humiliation,  wiiich  ^vill  be  better  to  them  in  the  end  than 
their  elevations  and  raptures.  The  time  has  been  amongst  us  w-hen 
the  sower  \vent  forth  to  sow^,  and  w^e  have  seen  the  spring,  wherein 
the  seed  sprang  up  in  diflerent  sorts  of  ground,  appearing  then  fair 
and  flourishing  ;  but  this  spring  is  past,  and  we  now  see  the  sum- 
mer, wherein  the  sun  is  up  with  a  burning  heat,  that  tries  the  sorts 
of  ground  ;  and  now  appears  the  difference,  the  seed  in  stony 
ground,  where  there  was  only  a  thin  layer  of  earth  on  a  rock,  with- 
ers aW'ay,  the  moisture  being  dried  out ;  and  the  hidden  seeds  and 
roots  of  thorns,  in  unsubdued  ground,  now  springs  up  and  chokes 
the  seed  of  tlie  word.     Many  high  professors  are  fallen,  some  into 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAUDS.  213 

gross-  immoralities,  some  into  a  rooted  spiritual  pride,  enthusiasm, 
and  an  incorrigible  wildness  of  behaviour,  some  into  a  cold  frame 
of  mind,  showing  a  great  indifference  to  the  things  of  Religion.  But 
there  are  many,  and  I  hope  those  the  greater  part  of  those  that 
were  professed  Converts,  who  appear  hitherto  like  the  good  ground, 
and  notwithstanding  the  thick  and  dark  clouds,  that  so  soon  follow 
that  blessed  sunshine  that  we  have  had  ;  yet  I  cannot  but  stedfastly 
maintain  a  hope  and  persuasion  that  God  will  revive  his  work,  and 
that  what  has  been  so  great  and  very  extraordinary,  is  a  forerun- 
ner of  a  yet  more  glorious  and  extensive  work. — It  has  been  slander- 
ously reported  and  printed  concerning  me,  that  I  have  often  said, 
that  the  Millennium  was  already  begun,  and  that  it  began  at  North- 
ampton. A  doctor  of  divinity  in  New  England,  has  ventured  to 
publish  this  report  to  the  world,  from  a  single  person,  who  is  con- 
cealed and  kept  behind  the  curtain  :  but  the  report  is  very  diverse 
from  what  I  have  ever  said.  Lideed  I  have  often  said,  as  I  say  now, 
that  I  looked  upon  the  late  wonderful  revivals  of  Religion  as  fore- 
runners of  those  glorious  times  so  often  prophesied  of  in  the  Scrip- 
ture, and  that  this  was  the  first  dawning  of  that  light,  and  beginning 
of  that  work,  which,  in  the  progress  and  issue  of  it,  would  at  last 
bring  on  the  Church's  latter  day  glory ;  but  there  are  many  that 
know  that  I  have  from  time  to  time  added,  that  there  would  proba- 
bly be  many  sore  conflicts  and  terrible  convulsions,  and  many 
changes,  revivings  and  intermissions,  and  returns  of  dark  clouds, 
and  threatening  appearances,  before  this  work  shall  have  subdued 
the  world,  and  Christ's  kingdom  shall  be  every  where  established 
and  settled  in  peace,  which  will  be  the  lengthening  of  the  IMillennium 
or  day  of  the  Church's  peace,  rejoicing  and  triumph  on  earth,  so 
often  spoken  of.  I  was  much  entertained  and  delighted,  dear  Sir, 
with  your  thoughts  on  that  text  in  Isai.  Hx.  19,  which  you  signify  in 
your  letter,  and  so  have  many  others  been  to  wiiom  I  have  com- 
municated them  ;  and  as  to  what  you  say  of  some  dreadful  stroke 
or  trial  yet  abiding,  before  the  happy  days  of  the  promised  peace 
and  prosperity  of  the  church,  I  so  far  agree  with  you,  that  I  believe 
that,  before  the  church  of  God  shall  have  obtained  the  conquest, 
and  the  visible  kingdom  of  Satan  on  earth  shall  receive  its  over- 
throw, and  Christ's  kingdom  of  grace  be  every  where  established 
on  its  ruins,  there  shall  be  a  great  and  mighty  struggle  betw^een  the 
kingdom  of  Christ  and  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  attended  with  the 
greatest  and  most  extensive  convulsions  and  commotion,  that  ever 
were  upon  the  face  of  the  earth,  w^herein  doubtless  many  particular 
christians  will  suffer,  and  perhaps  some  parts  of  the  Church. 

"  But  that  the  enemies  of  the  Church  of  God,  should  ever  gain 
such  advantages  against  her  any  more,  as  they  have  done  in  times 
past,  that  the  victory  should  ever  any  more  be  on  their  side,  or  that 
it  shall  ever  be  given  to  the  Beast  again  to  make  war  with  the  saints, 
and  to  prevail  against  them,  and  overcome  them  j  (as  in  Rev.  xiii. 


214  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

7;  and  xi.  7;  and  Dan.  vii.  21,)  to  such  a  degree  as  has  been 
heretofore,  is  otherwise  than  I  hope.  Though  in  this  I  w^ould  be 
far  from  setting  up  my  own  judgment,  in  opposition  to  others,  who 
are  more  skill'd  in  the  prophecies  of  Scripture,  than  I  am.  I  think 
that  what  has  mainly  induced  many  divines  to  be  of  that  opinion, 
is  what  is  said  in  Revelation,  chap.  xi.  concerning  the  slaying  of 
the  witnesses,  v.  7,  8.  And  when  they  shall  have  finished  their 
testimony,  the  Beast,  that  ascendeth  out  of  the  bottomless  pit,  shall 
make  war  against  them,  and  shall  overcome  them  and  kill  them; 
and  their  dead  bodies  shall  be  in  the  street  of  the  great  city,  he. 
"  The  event  here  spoken  of,  seems  evidently  to  be  that,  wherein 
the  enemies  of  the  church  gain  the  greatest  advantage  against  her, 
that  ever  they  have,  and  have  the  greatest  conquest  of  her, 
that  ever  they  obtained,  and  bring  the  church  nearest  to  a  to- 
tal extinction.  For  a  long  time  the  church  is  very  small,  repre- 
sented by  two  witnesses,  and  they  had  been  long  in  a  very  low  state, 
prophecying  in  sackcloth ;  but  now  they  are  dead  and  their  ene- 
mies triumph  over  them,  as  having  gotten  a  complete  victory,  and 
look  upon  it  that  they  are  now  past  all  possibility  of  recovery,  there 
being  less  prospect  of  the  church's  restoration  than  ever  there  was 
before.  But  are  we  to  expect  this,  dear  Sir,  that  Satan  will  ever 
find  means  to  bring  things  to  pass,  that  after  all  the  increase  of 
light  that  has  been  in  the  world,  since  the  Reformation,  there  shall 
be  a  return  of  a  more  dark  time  than  in  the  depth  of  the  darkness 
of  Popery,  before  the  Reformation,  when  the  church  of  God  shall 
be  nearer  to  a  total  extinction,  and  have  less  of  visibility,  all 
true  religion  and  light  be  more  blotted  out  of  the  memories  of  man- 
kind, Satan's  kingdom  of  darkness  be  more  firmly  established,  all 
monuments  of  true  religion  be  more  abohshed,  and  that  the  state  of  the 
world  should  be  such,  that  it  should  appear  further  from  any  hope 
of  a  revival  of  true  religion  than  it  ever  has  done  ;  is  this  conceiv- 
able, or  possible,  as  the  state  of  things  now  is  all  over  the  world, 
even  among  Papists  themselves,  without  a  miracle,  a  greater  than 
any  power  short  of  divine  can  effect,  without  a  long  tract  of  time, 
gradually  to  bring  it  to  pass,  to  introduce  the  grossest  ignorance  and 
extinguish  all  memory  and  monuments  of  truth ;  which  was  the  case 
in  that  great  extinction  of  true  religion  that  w^as  before  the  Refor- 
mation. And  besides,  if  w^e  suppose  this  War  of  the  Beast  that 
ascends  out  of  the  bottomless  pit  with  the  witnesses,  wherein  he 
overcomes  them  and  kills  tiiem,  to  be  that  last  war  which  the  church 
shall  have  with  the  Beast,  that  great  and  mighty  conflict  that  shall 
be  just  before  the  final  overthrow  of  Antichrist,  that  we  read  of  in 
the  1 6th  chap,  the  1 3th  and  following  verses,  and  in  the  1 9th  chapter ; 
how  shall  we  make  them  consist  together  ?  In  the  11th  chapter  die 
church  conflicts  in  sorrow,  clothed  in  sackcloth,  and  in  blood ;  in 
the  19th  chap,  the  saints  are  not  represented  as  fighting  in  sorrow 
and  blood,  though  the  battie  be  exceedingly  great,  but  in  strength, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  215 

glory,  and  triumph.  Their  Captain  goes  forth  to  this  battle,  in  great 
pomp  and  magnificence,  on  a  white  horse,  and  on  his  head  many 
crowns,  and  on  his  vesture  and  on  his  thigh  a  name  written,  King 
OF  Kings  and  Lord  of  Lords;  and  the  saints  follow  him,  not  in 
sackcloth,  but  coming  forth  on  white  horses,  clothed  in  pure  linen, 
clean  and  white,  the  raiment  of  triumph,  the  same  raiment  that  the 
saints  appear  in.  Rev.  vii.  14,  when  they  appear  \\ith  palms  in  their 
hands,  after  they  had  washed  their  robes,  that  had  been  stained 
with  their  own  blood,  and  made  themselves  white  in  the  blood  of 
tlie  Lamb.  Li  the  conflict  spoken  of  in  chap,  xi.,  the  Beast  makes 
w^ar  with  the  witnesses,  and  overcomes  them,  and  kills  them  :  the 
same  is  foretold,  Dan.  vii.  21,  and  Rev.  xiii.  7.  But  in  that  last 
great  batde,  just  before  the  fall  of  Antichrist,  we  find  the  reverse  of 
this,  the  church  shall  obtain  a  glorious  victory  over  the  Beast,  and 
the  Beast  is  taken  and  cast  into  the  lake  of  fire.  Rev.  x\ai.  14, 
These  shall  make  war  with  the  Lamb ;  and  the  Lamb  shall  over- 
come them  ;  for  he  is  Lord  of  Lords  and  King  of  Kings  ;  and  they 
that  are  with  him.  are  called,  and  chosen,  and  faithful ;  compared 
with  chap.  xix.  16,  to  the  end,  and  chap.  xvi.  16,  17.  In  that 
conflict,  chap,  xi.,  the  Beast  has  war  with  the  witnesses,  and  kills 
tlrem,  and  their  dead  bodies  lie  unburied,  as  if  it  were  to  be  meat 
for  the  beasts  of  the  earth,  and  fowls  of  heaven ;  but  in  that  last 
conflict,  Christ  and  his  church  shall  slay  their  enemies,  and  give 
tlieir  dead  bodies  to  be  meat  for  the  beasts  of  the  earth  and  fowls 
of  heaven,  chap.  xix.  17,  etc.  There  is  no  manner  of  appearance 
in  the  descriptions  that  are  given  of  that  great  battle,  of  any  great 
advantages  gained  in  it  against  the  church,  before  the  enemy  is 
overcome,  but  all  appearance  of  the  contrary.  The  descriptions 
in  the  16tli  and  19th  chapters  of  Rev.  will  by  no  means  allow  of  such 
an  advantage,  as  that  of  the  overcoming  and  slaying  of  the  church, 
or  people  of  God,  and  their  lying  for  some  tune  unburied,  that 
their  dead  bodies  may  be  for  their  enemies  to  abuse  and  trample 
on,  and  make  sport  with.  Li  the  16th  chap,  we  have  an  account  of 
their  being  gathered  together  into  the  place  called  Armageddon ; 
and  then  the  first  thing  we  hear  of  after  that,  is  the  pouring 
out  of  the  seventh  vial  of  God's  wrath,  and  a  voice  saying  it  is  done  ; 
and  so  in  chap.  xix.  we  read  of  the  Beast,  and  the  Kings  of  the 
earth,  and  their  armies  being  gathered  together,  to  make  war 
against  him  that  sat  on  the  horse,  and  against  his  army  ;  and  then 
the  next  thing  we  hear  of  is  the  Beast's  being  taken,  etc.  The 
event  of  the  conflict  of  the  Beast  with  the  church,  chap.  xi.  is  the 
triumph  of  the  church's  enemies,  when  they  of  the  people,  and 
kindred,  and  tongues,  and  nations,  and  they  that  dwell  on  the  earth, 
shall  see  the  dead  bodies  of  the  saints  lying  in  the  streets,  and  shall 
rejoice  over  them,  and  make  merry,  and  send  gifts  one  to  another. 
But  the  event  of  that  great  and  last  batde,  before  the  fall  of  An- 
tichrist, is  quite  the  reverse  of  this,  even  the  church's   triumphing 


21G  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

over  tlieir  enemies,  as  being  utterly  destroyed.  Those  events,  that 
are  consequent  on  the  issue  of  the  war  with  the  witnesses,  chap.  xi. 
do  in  no  wise  answ^er  to  those,  that  are  represented  as  consequent 
on  that  last  conflict  of  Antichrist  \\'ith  the  church  !  'Tis  said  tliat 
w^ien  the  w^itnesses  ascended  into  heaven,  the  same  hour  there  was 
an  earthquake,  and  the  tenth  part  of  the  city  fell ;  and  in  the  earth- 
quake were  slain  of  men  seven  thousand !  but  this  don't  seem  at 
all  to  answer  what  is  described,  chap.  xvi.  and  xix.  The  great 
city  was  divided  into  three  parts,  and  the  cities  of  the  nations  fell ! 
and  great  Babylon  came  in  remembrance  before  God,  to  give  her 
the  cup  of  the  wine  of  the  fierceness  of  his  wrath ;  and  every  isl- 
and fled  away,  and  the  mountains  were  not  found.  And  it  had 
been  said  before,  that  there  was  a  great  earthquake,  such  as  was  not 
since  men  w^ere  upon  the  earth,  so  mighty  an  earthquake,  and  so 
great.  And  in  chap.  xix.  instead  of  slaying  seven  thousand 
men,  it  seems  as  if  tliere  was  a  general  slaughter  of  all  the  enemies 
of  the  church,  through  the  world.  And  besides  if  we  read  this  1 1th 
chapter  through,  we  shall  see  that  the  falling  of  tlie  tenth  part  of 
the  city  and  the  rising  of  the  witnesses,  and  their  standing  on  their 
feet  and  ascending  into  heaven,  are  represented  there  as  entirely 
distinct  from  the  accomplishment  of  the  church's  glory,  after  the 
fall  of  Antichrist,  and  God's  judging  and  destroying  the  enemies  of 
the  church.  The  judgment  here  spoken  of,  as  executed  on  God's 
enemies,  are  under  another  Woe,  and  the  benefits  bestowed  on  the 
church,  are  under  another  Trumpet :  For  immediately  after  tlie  ac- 
count of  the  rising  and  ascending  of  the  witnesses,  and  its  conse- 
quences, follow  these  words,  v.  14,  15,  "The  second  woe  is  past, 
and  behold  the  third  woe  cometh  quickly.  And  tlie  seventh  angel 
sounded,  and  there  were  great  voices  in  heaven,  saying,  the  king- 
doms of  this  world  are  become  the  kingdoms  of  our  Lord  and  of 
his  Christ,  and  he  shall  reign  forever  and  ever."  And  in  the  follow- 
ing verses,  we  have  an  account  of  the  praises  sung  to  God  on  the 
occasion ;  and  in  the  last  verse  we  have  a  brief  hint  of  that  same 
great  earthquake,  and  the  great  hail,  and  those  thunders,  and 
lightnings,  and  voices,  that  we  have  an  account  of  in  the  latter 
part  of  chap.  xvi.  so  tliat  the  earthquake  mentioned  in  the  last 
verse  of  chap.  xi.  seems  to  be  the  great  earthquake,  that  attends 
the  last  great  conflict  of  the  church  and  her  enemies,  rather  than 
that  mentioned,  v.  13. 

"  The  grand  objection  against  all  this  is,  that  it  is  said,  that  the 
witnesses  should  prophecy  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty 
days,  clothed  in  sackcloth  ;  and  when  they  have  finished  their  tes- 
timony, the  beast  should  make  war  against  them,  and  kill  them,  etc. 
and  that  it  seems  manifest  that  after  this  they  are  no  longer  in 
sackcloth  ;  for  henceforward  they  are  in  an  exalted  state  in  heaven  : 
and  that  therefore  seeing  the  time  of  their  wearing  sackcloth  is  one 
thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty  days,  i.  e.  during  the  time  of  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS-  217 

continuance  of  antichrist ;  hence  their  being  slain,  and  their  rising 
again  must  be  at  the  conclusion  of  this  period,  at  the  end  of  anti- 
christ's reign. 

*'  In  answer  to  which  I  would  say,  with  submission  to  better 
judgments,  that  1  humbly  conceive  that  we  can  justly  infer  no  more 
from  this  prophecy  than  this,  viz.  that  the  one  thousand  two  hundred 
and  sixty  days  is  the  proper  time  (as  it  were)  of  the  Church's  trou- 
ble and  bondage,  or  being  clothed  in  sackcloth,  because  it  is  the 
appointed  time  of  the  reign  of  antichrist ;  but  this  don't  hinder  but 
that  God,  out  of  great  compassion  to  his  Church,  should,  in  some 
respect,  shorten  the  days,  and  grant  that  his  Church  should,  in 
some  measure,  anticipate  the  appointed  great  deliverance  that 
should  be  at  the  end  of  these  days,  as  he  has  in  fact  done  in  the 
Reformation ;  whereby  his  Church  has  had  a  great  degree  of  resto- 
ration granted  her,  from  the  darkness  pow^er  and  dominion  of  anti- 
clu'ist,  before  their  proper  time  of  restoration,  which  is  at  the  end 
of  the  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty  days ;  and  so  the 
Church  through  the  compassion  of  her  Father  and  Redeemer, 
anticipates  her  deliverance  from  her  sorrow^s  ;  and  has,  in  some 
respects,  an  end  put  to  her  testifying  in  sackcloth,  as  many  parts 
of  the  Church  are  henceforward  brought  out  from  under  the  do- 
minion of  the  antichristian  powders,  into  a  state  of  liberty  ;  though 
in  other  respects,  the  Church  may  be  said  still  to  continue  in  her 
sackcloth,  and  in  the  wilderness,  (as  Chap.  xii.  14,)  till  the  end  of 
the  days.  And  as  to  the  witnesses  standing  on  their  feet,  and  as- 
cending into  heaven  ;  I  would  propose  that  it  may  be  considered, 
Whether  any  more  can  be  understood  by  it,  than  the  Protestant 
Church's  being  now  (at  least  as  to  many  parts  of  it)  able  to  stand  on 
her  own  legs,  and  in  her  own  defence,  and  being  raised  to  such  a 
state,  that  she  henceforward  is  out  of  the  reach  of  the  Romish 
powers^  that,  let  them  do  what  they  will,  they  shall  never  anymore 
be  able  to  get  the  Church  under  their  power,  as  they  had  before  ; 
as  oftentimes  in  the  scriptures  God's  People's  dw^elling  in  safety,  out 
of  the  reach  of  their  enemies,  is  represented  by  their  dwelling  on 
high,  or  being  set  on  high  ;  Ps.  lix.  1.  Isai.  xxxiii.  16.  Ps.  Ixix  29, 
and  xci.  14,  and  cvii.  41.  Prov.  xxix.  25 ;  and  the  children  of  Is- 
rael, when  brought  out  of  Egypt,  were  said  to  be  carried  on  eagle's 
wings,  that  is  lofty  in  its  flight,  flies  away  towards  heaven  where 
none  of  her  enemies  can  reach  her. 

"  I  might  here  observe,  that  we  have  other  instances  of  God's 
shortening  the  days  of  his  Church's  captivity  and  bondage,  either 
at  the  beginning  or  latter  end,  in  some  measure  parallel  with  this. 
Thus  the  proper  time  of  the  bondage  of  the  posterity  of  Abraham, 
in  a  strange  land,  w^as  four  hundred  years.  Gen.  xy.  13:  but  yet 
God  in  mercy,  delayed  their  bondage,  whereby  the  time  was  much 
shortened  at  the  beginning.  So  the  time  wherein  it  was  foretold, 
that  the  whole  land  of  Israel  should  be  a  desolation  and  an  astonish- 

VoL.  I.  28 


218  LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ment,  and  the  land  should  not  enjoy  her  sabbaths,  was  seventy  years, 
Jer.  XXV,  11,  12  ;  and  these  seventy  years  are  dated  m  2  Chron. 
xxxvi,  20,  21,  from  Zedekiah's  captivity;  and  yet  from  that  cap- 
tivity to  Cyrus's  decree  was  but  about  fifty-two  years,  though  it 
was  indeed  about  seventy  years  before  the  temple  was  finished. 
So  the  proper  time  of  the  oppression  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes, 
wherein  both  the  Sanctuary  and  the  Host  should  be  trodden  under 
foot  by  him,  was  two  thousand  and  three  hundred  days,  Dan.  vii. 
13,  14,  and  yet  God  gave  Israel  a  degree  of  deliv^erance  by  the 
Maccabees,  and  they  were  holpen  with  a  little  help,  and  the  Host 
ceased  to  be  trodden  under  foot  before  that  time  was  expired. 
Dan.  xi.  32,  34. 

"  But  in  these  things,  dear  Sir,  I  am  by  no  means  dogmatical ; 
I  do  but  humbly  offer  my  thoughts  on  what  you  suggested  in  your 
letter,  submitting  them  to  your  censure.  'Tis  pity  that  we  should 
expect  such  a  terrible  devastation  of  the  Church,  before  her  last 
and  most  glorious  deliverance,  if  there  be  no  such  thing  to  be  ex- 
pected. It  may  be  a  temptation  to  some  of  the  people  of  God,  the 
less  earnestly  to  wish  and  pray  for  the  near  approach  of  the 
Church's  glorious  day,  and  the  less  to  rejoice  in  the  signs  of  its 
approach. 

"  But,  let  us  go  on  what  scheme  we  will,  it  is  most  apparent  from 
the  Scriptures,  that  there  are  mighty  strugglings  to  be  expected, 
between  the  Church  of  God  and  her  Enemies,  before  her  great 
victory  ;  and  there  may  be  many  lesser  strugglings  before  that  last, 
and  greatest,  and  universal  conflict.  Experience  seems  to  show 
that  the  Church  of  God,  according  to  God's  metliod  of  dealing  with 
her,  needs  a  great  deal  gradually  to  prepare  her  for  that  prosperity 
and  glory  that  he  has  promised  her  on  earth  :  as  the  growth  of  the 
earth,  after  winter,  needs  gradually  to  be  prepared  for  the  summer 
heat :  I  have  known  instances,  wherein  by  the  heat's  coming  on 
suddenly  in  the  spring,  without  intermissions  of  cold  to  check  the 
growth,  the  branches  many  of  them,  by  a  too  hasty  growth,  have 
afterwards  died.  And  perhaps  God  may  bring  on  a  spiritual  spring 
as  he  does  the  natural,  with  now  and  tlien  a  pleasant  sunshiny 
season,  and  then  an  interruption  by  clouds  and  stormy  winds,  till  at 
length,  by  the  sun  more^and  more  approaching,  and  the  light  in- 
creasing, the  strength  of  the  winter  is  broken.  We  are  extremely 
apt  to  get  out  of  the  right  way.  A  very  great  increase  of  comfort 
that  is  sudden,  without  time  and  experience,  in  many  instances  has 
appeared  to  wound  the  soul,  in  some  respects,  though  it  seems  to 
profit  it  in  others.  Sometimes,  at  the  same  time  that  the  soul  seems 
wonderfully  delivered  from  those  lusts,  that  are  more  carnal  and 
earthly,  there  is  an  insensible  increase  of  those  that  are  more  spirit- 
ual ;  as  God  told  the  children  of  Israel,  that  he  would  put  out  the 
former  inhabitants  of  the  land  of  Canaan,  by  little  and  litde,  and 
would  not  consume  them  at  once,  least  the  beasts  of  the  field  should 


LIFE    OF    rilESIDEKT    F.DWARBS.  219 

increase  upon  them. — We  need  much  experience,  to  teach  us  tlie 
innumerable  ways  that  we  are  liable  to  err,  and  to  show  ns  the  evil 
and  pernicious  consequences  of  those  errors.  If  it  should  please 
God,  before  many  years,  to  grant  another  great  Revival  of  religion 
in  New  England,  we  should  perhaps  be  much  upon  our  guard 
against  such  errors  as  we  have  run  into,  and  which  have  undone  us 
this  time,  but  yet  might  run  insensibly  into  other  errors  that  now 
we  think  not  of. 

"  You  enquire  of  me.  Rev.  Sir,  whether  I  reject  all  those  for 
counterfeits  that  speak  of  visions  and  trances.  I  am  far  from  doing 
of  it :  I  am,  and  always  have  been,  in  that  matter,  of  the  same 
opinion  tliat  Mr.  Robe  expresses,  in  some  of  those  pamphlets  Mr. 
McLaurin  sent  me,  that  persons  are  neither  to  be  rejected,  nor  ap- 
proved on  such  a  foundation.  I  have  expressed  the  same  thing  in 
my  discourse  on  the  Marks  of  a  work  of  the  true  Spirit,  and  have 
not  changed  my  mind. 

"I  am  afraid.  Dear  Sir,  that  I  have  been  too  bold  with  you,  in 
being  so  lengthy  and  tedious,  and  have  been  too  impertinent  and  for- 
ward to  express  my  opinion  upon  this  and  that;  but  I  consider  my- 
self as  writing  to  a  candid,  christian  friend  and  brother,  with  whom 
I  may  be  free  and  bold,  and  from  whom  I  may  promise  myself  ex- 
cuse and  forgiveness.  Dear  Brother,  asking  your  earnest  prayers 
for  me  and  for  New  England,  I  am  your  affectionate  brother,  and 
engaged  friend  and  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  opinion  here  expressed  by  Mr.  Edwards,  was  not  the  result 
of  a  slight  and  cursory  examination  of  the  subject  in  discussion. 
He  had  a  considerable  time  before  examined,  at  great  length,  the 
prophecies  of  Daniel  and  John,  with  regard  to  this  very  point;  and, 
as  we  shall  soon  have  occasion  to  remark,  had  been  convinced  that 
the  opinion,  then  commonly  received,  that  the  severest  trials  of  the 
Church  were  yet  future,  ivas  erroneous. 

The  Rev.  Samuel  Buell,  whom  I  have  already  mentioned,  as 
having  preached  at  Northampton,  during  the  absence  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, in  January  1742,  with  uncommon  fervour  and  success, 
continued  his  labours,  as  an  evangelist  among  the  churches,  up- 
wards of  four  years ;  and  at  length  accepted  of  an  invitation  from 
the  people  of  East  Hampton,  a  village  in  the  S.  E.  corner  of  Long 
Island,  to  become  their  minister.  At  his  request,  Mr.  Edwards 
went  to  East  Hampton,  and  there  preached  his  Installation  Sermon, 
on  the  19th  of  September,  1746,  from  Isaiah,  Ixii.  4,  5. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Mistakes  extensively  prevalent  at  this  tiine,  as  to  the  nature  and  ei?- 
idences  of  True  Godliness, — "  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections." 
— Design  and  Character  of  the  Work. — Republished  abroad. — 
Letter  from  Mr.  Gillespie  concerning  it . — Letter  from  Mr .  Ed- 
wards to  Mr.  M  CuUocJi. — Reply  to  Mr.  Gilhspie. — Proposal 
madein  Scotland,  for  United  Extraordinary  Prayer . — Efforts  of 
Mr.  Edwards  to  promote  it. — Letter  to  Mr.  M  Culloch. — 
"  Humble  Attempt  to  promote  Extraordinary  Prayer."*^ 

From  the  facts  already  recited,  it  will  be  obvious  to  the  reader, 
that  few  clergymen,  even  in  the  course  of  a  long  ministr}^,  have  as- 
full  an  opportunity  of  learning,  from  their  own  observation,  the 
true  nature  of  a  Revival  of  religioTi,  and  the  differences  between 
imaginary  and  saving  Conversion,  as  Mr.  Edwards  had  now  enjoy- 
ed. He  had  early  discovered,  that  there  was  a  radical  difficulty 
attending  not  only  every  revival  of  religion,  but,  in  a  greater  or  less 
degree  also,  every  instance  of  supposed  conversion: — a  difficulty 
arising  from  erroneous  conceptions,  so  generally  entertained,  res- 
pecting the  question,  JVhcft  is  the  nature  of  True  Religion  ?  or, 
JVhat  are  the  distinguishing  marks  of  that  Holiness,  which  is  ac- 
ceptcdfle  in  the  sight  of  God  ? — Perceiving,  at  an  early  period  of 
his  christian  life,  that  no  other  subject  was  equally  important  to 
man,  that  no  other  was  more  frequently  or  variously  illustrated  by 
the  Scriptural  ^witers,  and  yet,  that  on  no  other  had  professing^ 
christians  been  less  agreed ;  his  attention,  as  he  himself  informs 
us,  had  been  particularly  directed  to  it,  from  his  first  commence- 
ment of  the  study  of  Theology,  and  he  was  led  to  examine  it  with 
all  the  diligence,  and  care,  and  exactness  of  search  and  enquiry,  of 
which  his  mind  was  capable.  In  addition  to  this,  he  had  not  only 
witnessed,  in  two  successive  instances,  a  solemn  and  universal  at- 
tention to  religion,  among  the  young  as  well  as  among  grown  per- 
sons in  his  own  congregation,  and  in  both,  almost  all  of  the  latter, 
as  well  as  very  many  of  the  former,  gathered  into  the  church  ;  but 
he  had  been  the  spiritual  coimsellor  and  guide  of  multitudes  in  oth- 
er congregations,  where  he  had  occasionally  laboured,  as  well  as  of 
great  numbers  who  visited  him  for  this  purpose,  at  Northampton. 
These  advantages  of  observation,  it  may  easily  be  believed,  were 
not  lost  on  a  mind  like  his. 

This  subject,  at  the  time  of  which  we  are  speaking,  had  become, 
also,  a  subject  of  warm  and  extended  conti'oversy.     The  advo- 


LIFE    OF    FRFSIBEXT    EDWARDS.  221 

cates  of  revivals  of  religion,  had  too  generally  been  accustomed  to 
attach  to  the  mere  circumstances  of  conversion — to  the  time,  place, 
manner  and  means,  in  and  by  which  it  w\is  supposed  to  be  effect- 
ed— an  importance,  no  where  given  them  in  the  Scriptures ;  as 
well  as  to  conclude,  that  all  affections  which  were  high  in  degree, 
and  accompanied  with  great  apparent  zeal  and  ardour,  were  of 
course  gracious  in  their  nature ;  w^hile  their  opposers  insisted,  that 
true  religion  did  not  consist  at  all  in  the  affections,  but  wholly  in 
the  external  conduct.  The  latter  class  attributed  the  uncommon 
Attention  to  religion,  which  they  could  not  deny  had  existed  for 
four  years  in  New^-England,  to  artificial  excitement  merely ;  while 
the  former  saw  nothing  in  it,  or  in  the  measures  taken  to  promote 
it,  to  condemn,  but  every  thing  to  approve.  IVIr.  Edwards,  in  his 
view^s  of  the  subject,  differed  materially  from  both  classes.  As  he 
knew  from  his  o^^ii  experience,  that  sin  and  the  saving  grace  of  God 
might  dwell  in  the  same  heart ;  so  he  had  learned,  both  from  ob- 
servation and  testimony,  that  much  false  religion  might  prevail  dur- 
ing a  powerful  revival  of  true  religion,  and  that  at  such  a  time, 
multitudes  of  hypocrites  might  spring  up  among  real  christians. 
Thus  it  w^as  in  the  revival  of  religion  in  the  time  of  Josiah,  in  that 
wdiich  attended  the  preaching  of  John  the  Baptist,  in  those  which 
occurred  under  the  preaching  of  Christ,  in  the  remarkable  out- 
pouring of  the  Spirit  in  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  and  in  that  which 
existed  in  the  time  of  the  Reformation.  He  clearly  saw,  that  it 
was  this  mixture  of  counterfeit  religion  w^th  true,  which  in  all  ages 
had  given  the  devil  his  chief  advantage  against  the  kingdom  of 
Christ.  "  By  this,"  observes  Mr.  Edwards,  "  he  hurt  the  cause 
of  Christianity,  in  and  after  the  apostolic  age,  much  more,  than  by 
all  the  persecutions  of  both  Jew^s  and  Heathens.  By  this  he  pre- 
vailed against  the  Reformation,  to  put  a  stop  to  its  progress,  more 
than  by  all  the  bloody  persecutions  of  the  church  of  Rome.  By 
this  he  prevailed  against  the  revivals  of  religion,  that  have  occurred 
since  the  Refomiation.  By  this  he  prevailed  against  New^-Eng- 
land,  to  quench  the  love  of  her  espousals,  about  a  hundred  years 
ago.  And  I  think  I  have  had  opportunity  enough  to  see  plainly, 
that  by  this  the  devil  has  prevailed  against  the  late  great  revival  of 
religion  in  New^-England,  so  happy  and  promising  in  its  beginning. 
I  have  seen  the  devil  prevail  in  this  way,  against  two  great  reviv- 
ings  of  religion  in  this  country.  By  perverting  us  from  the  simpli- 
city that  is  in  Christ,  he  hath  suddenly  prevailed  to  deprive  us  of 
that  fair  prospect  we  had  a  little  while  ago,  of  a  kind  of  paradisaic 
state  of  the  Church  of  God  in  New^-England." 

These  evils,  it  w^as  obvious,  must  exist  in  the  church,  until  their 
cause  was  removed,  and  men  had  learned  to  distinguish  accurately 
between  true  and  false  religion.  To  contribute  his  own  best  en- 
deavours for  the  accomplishment  of  this  end,  Mr.  Edwards  pre- 
pared and  published  his  "  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections." 


232  LIFE    OF    PRSSIDENT    EDWARDS. 

The  great  design  of  this  Treatise  is,  to  show,  In  what  True  Reli- 
gion consists,  and  what  are  its  Distinguishing  Marks  and  Evidences ; 
and  thus  to  enable  every  man,  who  will  be  honest  and  faithful  with 
himself,  to  decide  whether  he  isjOrisnotj  a  real  christian.  Similar 
attempts  had  been  made,  by  many  earher  writers ;  but  it  may,  I 
believe,  safely  be  asserted,  that  no  one  of  their  efforts,  taken  as  a 
whole,  and  viewed  as  an  investigation  of  the  entire  subject,  would 
now  be  regarded  as  in  any  high  degree  important  or  valuable.  The 
subject  itself  is  one  of  the  most  difficult,  which  Theology  presents ; 
and  demands  for  its  full  investigation,  not  only  ardent  piety,  and  a 
most  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  Scriptures,  but  an  exact  and 
metaphysical  inspection  of  the  faculties  and  operations  of  the  hu- 
man mind ;  which  imfortunately  few,  very  few-,  writers  on  experi- 
mental religion,  have  hitherto  discovered.  The  work  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards is  at  once  a  scriptural,  and  a  philosophical,  view  of  the  subject  j 
— as  truly  scientific  in  its  arrangement,  and  logical  in  its  deductions, 
as  any  work  on  the  Exact  sciences.  That  it  is  also  a  thorough  and 
complete  view  of  it,  we  have  this  decisive  evidence — that  no  work 
of  the  kind,  of  any  value,  has  appeared  since,  for  w^hich  the  author 
has  not  been  indebted,  substantially,  to  the  Treatise  on  the  Affec- 
tions ;  or  which  has  not  been  that  very  Treatise,  in  part,  or  in 
whole,  diluted  to  the  capacity  of  weaker  understandings.  The  trial, 
to  which  the  mind  of  the  honest,  attentive  and  prayerful,  reader  of 
its  pages  is  subjected,  is  the  very  trial  of  the  Final  Day.  He, 
who  can  endure  the  trial  of  the  Treatise  on  the  Affections,  will 
stand  unhurt  amidst  a  dissolving  universe  ;  and  he  who  cannot,  will 
assuredly  perish  in  its  ruins.  It  ought  to  be  the  J^ade  mecum,  not 
only  of  every  clergyman,  and  every  christian,  but  of  every  man, 
w^ho  has  sobriety  of  thought  enough  to  realize,  that  he  has  any  in- 
terest in  a  coming  Eternity.  Every  minister  sliould  take  effectual 
care,  that  it  is  well  dispersed  among  the  people  of  his  oa^ti  charge, 
and  that  none  of  them  is  admitted  to  a  profession  of  religion,  until, 
after  a  thorough  study  of  this  Treatise,  he  can  satisfy  both  himself, 
and  his  spiritual  guide,  not  only  that  he  does  not  rely  upon  the  mere 
negative  signs  of  holiness,  but  that  he  finds  within  himself  those 
distinguishing  marks  and  evidences  of  its  positive  existence,  which 
the  Divine  Autlior  of  holiness  has  pronounced  sure  and  unerring. 
It  is  indeed  said,  that  anxious  enquirers  will  often  be  discouraged 
by  this  course — particularly  by  a  perusal  of  the  Second  Part  of 
the  Treatise — from  making  a  profession  of  religion,  and  led  to  re- 
nounce the  hope  of  their  own  conversion ;  and  the  answer  is,  that 
he,  who,  on  finding  himself  discouraged  from  a  profession  of  reli- 
gion, by  the  Second  Part,  is  not  encouraged  to  make  it  by  a  peru- 
sal of  the  Third  Part,  should  of  course,  unless  his  views  are  per- 
verted by  disease  or  melancholy,  consider  the  call  to  repent  and 
believe  the  Gospel,  as  still  addressed  immediately  to  himself ;  and 
that  he,  who,  on  the  perusal  of  this  Treatise,  is  led  to  renounce  the 


LIFE    OF    1>RESIDENT    EDWARDS.  223 

hope  which  he  had  cherished  of  his  own  piety,  while  he  has  the 
best  reason  to  regard  it  as  a  false  hope,  will  find  almost  of  course, 
that  that  hope  is  soon  succeeded  by  one  which  will  endure  the  strictest 
scrutiny.  It  is  also  said,  that  many  persons  cannot  understand  this 
Treatise  ',  and  the  answer  is,  that  he,  who  is  too  young  to  under- 
stand it  in  its  substance,  is  too  young  to  make  a  profession  of  reli- 
gion ;  and  that  he,  whose  mind  is  too  feeble  to  receive  it  substan- 
tially, when  communicated  by  a  kind  and  faithful  pastor,  cannot 
understandingly  make  such  a  profession.  Pre-eminently  is  this 
Treatise  necessary  to  every  congregation,  during  a  Revival  of  reli- 
gion. It  was  especially  designed  by  its  author,  to  be  used  on  ev- 
ery such  occasion  ;  and  the  mmister,  who  then  uses  it  as  he  ought, 
will  find  it  like  a  fan  in  his  hand,  wdnnowing  the  chaff  from  the 
wheat.  And  until  ministers,  laying  aside  the  miserable  vanity 
which  leads  them,  in  the  mere  number  of  those,  whom  they  de- 
nominate theh  "  spiritual  children,"  to  find  an  occasion  of  boasting, 
and  of  course  to  swell  that  number  as  much  as  they  can,  shall  be 
willing  thus  faithfully  and  honestly  to  make  a  separation  among 
their  enquirers ;  every  revival  of  religion  will  open  a  great  and  ef- 
fectual door,  through  wdiich  the  enemies,  as  well  as  the  friends  of 
religion,  will  gain  an  admission  into  the  house  of  God.  And  when 
they  are  thus  admitted,  and  the  ardour  of  animal  feeling  has  once 
subsided,  the  minister  will  generally  find,  not  only  that  he  has 
wounded  Christ  in  the  house  of  his  friends,  but  that  he  has  des- 
troyed his  own  peace,  and  that  of  his  church,  and  prepared  the 
way  for  his  ow^n  speedy  separation  from  his  people. 

To  prevent  this  miserable  system  of  deception,  on  the  part  of 
ministers  and  churches,  as  v/ell  as  of  candidates  for  a  profession  of 
religion,  J\Ir.  Edwards  wrote  the  Treatise  in  question.  As  at  first 
prepared,  it  was  a  series  of  sermons,  which  he  preached  from  his 
own  desk,  from  the  text  still  prefixed  to  it,  1  Peter  i.  8,  "  Whom 
having  not  seen  ye  love  :  in  whom,  though  now  ye  see  him  not,  yet 
believing,  ye  rejoice,  with  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of  glory y  It 
was  thus  written  and  preached,  probably,  in  the  years  1742,  and 
1 743.  Being  afterw-ards  thrown  into  the  form  of  a  Treatise  by 
the  author,  it  was  pubhshed  early  in  1746.  In  its  style,  it  is  the 
least  correct  of  any  of  the  works  of  Mr.  Edwards,  published  in  his 
Hfe  time  ;  but,  as  a  work  exhibiting  genuine  Christianity,  in  distinc- 
tion from  all  its  counterfeits,  it  possesses  such  singular  excellence, 
that,  were  the  books  on  earth  destined  to  a  destruction  so  nearly 
universal,  that  only  one  beside  the  Bible  could  be  saved;  the 
church  of  Christ,  if  aiming  to  preserve  the  volume  of  the  greatest 
value  to  man,  that  which  would  best  unfold  to  a  bereaved  posterity, 
the  real  nature  of  true  religion,  would  unquestionably  select  for 
preservation,  the  Treatise  on  the  Affections. 

This  Treatise  was  immediately  republished  in  England  and 
Scotland,  and  was  cordially  welcomed  by  all  the  friends  of  evan- 


224  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

gelical  religion  in  those  countries,  as  well  as  in  America.  Its  ap- 
pearance in  Scotland  gave  rise  to  an  interesting  correspondence, 
between  ]\Ir.  Edwards  and  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gillespie  of  Carnock 
near  Edinburg  ;  which  was  commenced  by  the  latter  gentleman 
widi  die  following  letter. 

Letter  from  Mr.  Gillespie. 

"  Carnock,  JVov.  24,  1746. 

"  Very  dear  Sir, 

"  I  have  ever  honoured  you  for  your  work's  sake,  and  what  the 
great  Shepherd  made  you  the  instrument  of,  from  the  time  you 
published  the  then  very  extraordinary  account  of  the  Revival  of 
Religion  at  Northampton,  I  think  in  the  year  1735.  The  two 
performances  you  published  on  the  subject  of  the  late  glorious  work 
in  New  England,  well  adapted  to  that  in  Scotland,  gave  me  great 
satisfaction,  especially  the  last  of  them,  for  peculiar  reasons.  This 
much  I  think  myself  bound  to  say.  1  have  many  a  time,  for  some 
years,  designed  to  claim  humbly  the  privilege  of  correspondence 
wdth  you.  What  has  made  me  defer  doing  it  so  long,  when  some 
of  my  brethren  and  good  acquaintances  have  been  favoured  widi 
it,  for  a  considerable  time,  it  is  needless  now  to  mention.  I  shall 
only  say,  I  have  blamed  myself  for  neglect  in  that  matter.  I  do 
now  earnestly  desire  a  room  in  your  prayCrs  and  friendship,  and  a 
letter  from  you  sometimes,  w^hen  you  have  occasion  to  WTite  to 
Scotland  ;  and  I  shall  wish  to  be  as  regular  as  I  can,  in  making  a 
return.  With  your  permission,  I  propose  to  trouble  you  now  and 
dien  with  the  proposal  of  doubts  and  difficulties  that  I  meet  with, 
and  am  exercised  by ;  as  for  other  reasons,  so  because  some  solu- 
tions in  the  two  mentioned  performances  were  peculiarly  agreeable 
lo  me,  and  I  find  from  these  discourses,  that  wherein  I  have  diiFer- 
ed  in  some  things  from  many  others,  my  sentiments  have  harmoni- 
zed with  Mr.  Edwards.  This  especially  was  the  case  in  some 
things  contained  in  your  "  Thoughts  concerning  the  Revival  of  Re- 
ligion in  JYew  Engl  and. ^^  All  the  apology  I  make  for  using  such 
freedom,  though  altogether  unacquainted,  is  that  you  will  find  from 
my  short  attestation  in  Mr.  Robe's  Narrative,  I  am  no  enemy  to 
you,  or  to  the  work  you  have  been  engaged  in,  and  which  you  have 
defended  in  a  way  I  could  not  but  much  approve  of.  Also  my 
friend  and  countryman,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Robert  Abercrombie,  will 
inform  you  about  me,  if  you  have  occasion  to  see  him  or  hear  from 
him. 

"  I  longed  to  see  somewhat  about  impressions  respecting  facts 
and  future  events,  etc.  whether  by  Scripture-texts  or  otherwise, 
made  on  die  minds  of  good  people,  and  supposed  to  be  from  the 
Lord  ;  for  I  have  had  too  good  occasion  to  know  the  hurtful,  yea, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  22a 

pernicious  tendency  of  this  principle,  as  commonly  managed,  ii)K>n 
naany  persons  in  manifold  instances  and  various  respects.  It  has 
indeed  surprised  me  much,  that  wise,  holy  and  learned  divines,  as 
well  as  others,  have  supposed  this  a  spiritual  experience,  an  answer 
of  prayers,  an  evidence  of  being  highly  favoured  by  the  Lord,  etc 
and  I  was  exceeding  glad,  that  the  Lord  had  directed  you  to  give 
so  seasonable  a  caveat  against  what  I  am  assured  you  had  the  besi 
reason  to  term,  "A  handle  in  the  hand  of  the  denl,  etc."  I  was 
only  sorry  your  then  design  had  not  permitted  you  to  say  more  on 
that  point.  It  merits  a  volume ;  and  th6  proper  full  discussion  of 
it  would  be  one  of  the  most  seasonable  ancl  effectual  services  done 
the  church  of  Christ,  and  interest  of  vital  religion  through  the  world, 
that  I  know  of.  I  rejoice  to  find  there  is  a  good  deal  more  on  that 
subject  interspersed  in  your  "  Treatise  of  Religious  Affections,^'' 
which  I  have  got,  but  could  not  as  yet  regularly  peruse.  I  humbly 
think  the  Lord  calls  you,  dear  Sir,  to  consider  every  part  of  that 
point  in  the  most  critical  manner,  and  to  represent  fully  the  conse- 
quences resultnig  from  the  several  principles  in  that  matter,  which 
good  people,  as  well  as  others,  have  been  so  fond  of.  And  as  (if  I  do 
not  mistake)  Providence  has  already  put  that  in  your  hand  as  a  pail 
of  your  generation-work,  so  it  will  give  me.,  as  well  as  others,  vast 
satisfaction  to  find  more  said  on  the  subject  by  you,  if  you  do  not 
find  what  is  in  the  mentioned  treatises  sufficient,  as  to  which  I  can 
form  no  judgment,  because,  for  myself,  I  have  not  as  yet  consider- 
ed it.  If  any  other  author  has  treated  that  subject,  I  do  not  re- 
member to  have  met  whh  it,  and  I  believe  hell  has  been  no  less 
delighted  than  surprised,  that  a  regular  attack  has  not  been  made 
on  tliem  on  that  side  before  now^.  I  doubt  not  tliey  dread  the  con- 
sequences of  such  assauk  with  exquisite  horror.  The  neglect  or 
oversight,  if  not  the  mistakes  of  so  many  learned  authors,  who  have 
insisted  on  doctrines  that  bear  similitude  or  relation  to  this  matter, 
while  it  w^as  passed  over,  I  humbly  think  should  teach  us  humility, 
snd  some  other  useful  lessons  I  need  not  name  to  jNlr.  Edwards. 

"  I  hope,  dear  Sir,  it  will  not  offend  you,  that  I  humbly  offer 
some  remarks,  with  all  due  deference,  upon  what  I  ha^e  observed 
in  looking  into  your  "  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections  :^^  and,  upon 
farther  perusal,  shall  frankly  represent  what  I  may  find  difficulty 
about,  if  any  such  passage  should  cast  up  ;  expecfing  you  will  be  so 
good  as  to  set  me  right,  if  I  shall  mistake  or  not  perceive  your 
meaning. 

"  Pages  78,  79,*  there  are  several  passages  I  do  not  well 
understand.  Page  78,  fine  6,  ad  Jinem,  you  say,  "  That  they 
should  confidently  believe  and  trust,  while  they  yet  remain  without 
spiritual  light  or  sight,  is  an  antiscriptural  and  absurd  doctrine  you 
are  refuting."     But  this  doctrine,  as  it  is  understood  by  many,  is. 

*>See  Vol,  V.  pp.  7G,  79,  80. 

Vol,  I,  29 


JJ6  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

llmt  christians  ought  firmly  to  believe  and  trust  in  Christ  without 
light  or  sight,  and  though  they  are  in  a  dark,  dead  frame,  and  for 
the  present  having  no  spiritual  experiences  and  discoveries.  Had 
}^ou  said  they  could  not,  or  would  not  believe  or  trust  without  sj^ir- 
itual  light  or  sight,  this  is  wi  at  could  not  be  doubted  :  but  I  humbly 
apprehend,  the  position  will  not  hold  as  you  have  laid  it,  whether 
it  is  applied  to  a  sinner  or  a  saint,  as  I  suppose  you  understand  it ; 
for  though  the  sinner  never  mil  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus,  till  he 
has  received  a  saving  manifestation  of  his  glory  by  the  vrork  of  the 
Spiiit,  yet  every  sinner,  \te  know,  is  indispensably  bound,  at  all 
seasons,  bv  the  divine  authority,  to  believe  instantly  on  the  Lord 
Jesus.  The  command  of  the  Lord,  1  John  iii.  23,  that  we  should 
believe  on  the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  no  less  bmds  the  sin- 
ner to  immediate  performance,  than  the  command  not  to  kill,  to 
keep  the  Sabbath  day,  or  any  other  duty,  as  to  the  present  per- 
formance of  which,  in  way  of  duty,  all  agree,  the  sinner  is  bound. 
I  sup])ose  none  of  us  think  we  are  authorised,  or  will  adventure  to 
preach,  that  the  sinner,  should  delay  to  attempt  to  believe  in  the 
Saviour,  till  he  tinds  light  from  heaven  shining  into  his  mind,  or  has 
got  a  saving  sight  or  discover}^  of  the  Lord  Jesus,  though  it  is  certain 
he  cannot  believe,  nor  will  do  it  eventually,  tiU  favoured  with  such 
light  or  sight ;  because  we  should,  in  that  event,  put  in  a  qualifica- 
tion where  the  apostle  Paul  and  Silas  did  put  none ;  such  is  their 
exhortation  to  the  jailor.  Acts  xvi.  3L  Also,  as  it  may  be  the  last 
call  the  sinner  is  to  receive,  in  the  dispensation  of  the  word,  we  are 
bound  to  require  him  instantly  to  believe,  whatever  he  does,  or 
does  not  feel  in  himself.  If  you  did  intend  not  the  sinner,  but  the 
saint,  in  tlie  before  mentioned  positions,  as  I  am  apt  to  think  your 
scope  plainly  intimates,  still  I  apprehend  these  your  assertions  are 
not  tenable ;  for  I  humbly  suppose  the  Christian  is  bound  to  trust 
the  divine  faithfulness  phghted  in  the  promise  for  needful  blessings, 
be  his  case  with  respect  to  light  or  darkness,  sight,  etc.  what  it  will ; 
and  that  no  situation  the  saint  can  be  in,  looses  him  from  obligation 
to  glorify  the  Lord  on  all  occasions,  by  trusting  in  him  and  expect- 
ing the  fulfilment  of  his  word  suiting  his  case.  Also  I  would  ima- 
gine in  Is.  1.  10,  the  saint  is  required  to  believe,  in  the  precise  cir- 
cumstances mentioned  in  your  assertion  above  mentioned.  Pardon 
my  freedom.  You  do  indeed  say,  "  It  is  truly  the  duty  of  those 
who  are  thus  in  darkness  to  come  out  of  darkness  into  light  and 
believe,"  page  78,  line  5  ;  but  how  to  reconcile  that  with  the  men- 
tioned assertion  that  immediately  follows,  or  \^ith  Is.  1.  10,  or  odier 
Scriptures,  or  said  assertions,  and  the  other,  of  which  before,  I  am 
indeed  at  a  loss.  Sometimes  I  think  it  is  not  believing  the  pro- 
mise, or  trusting  the  Lord,  and  trusting  in  him,  you  nrean  in  the 
positions  I  have  cited  ;  but  the  belief  of  the  goodness  of  one's  state 
that  he  is  a  saint.  If  that  was  what  you  intended,  I  heartily  wish 
vou  had  said  so  much  in  the  book  ;  but  as  this  is  not  ordinarily 


LIPE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  221 

what  is  meant  by  believing  in  Scripture,  I  must  suppose  it  was  not 
the  idea  affixed  to  your  words ;  and  an  expression  of  yours  seems 
to  make  it  evident.  Had  you  plainly  stated  the  distinction,  betwixt 
the  impossibility  of  one's  actually  believing,  and  its  yet  being  his 
duty  to  believe,  in  the  circumstances  you  mentioned  ;  danger  of 
mistake  and  a  handle  for  ca\il  had  been  cut  off. 

"  Page  78,  line  20,  etc.,  you  say,  "  To  press  and  urge  them  to 
believe,  without  any  spiritual  light  or  sight,  tends  greatly  to  iielp 
forward  the  delusions  of  the  prince  of  darkness."  Had  you  said, 
to  press  them  to  believe  that  the  Lord  was  their  God,  when  going  on 
a  course  of  sin,  or  when  sinning  presumptuously,  was  of  such  ten- 
dency, which  probably  was  in  part  what  you  designed,  it  v%-ould  in 
my  humble  apprehension,  have  been  much  more  safe,  for  the  reasons 
given.  Also,  as  it  is  ordinarily  and  justly  observed,  that  they  who 
are  most  humbled  think  they  are  least  so,  when  under  a  saving 
work  of  the  Spirit,  perhaps  in  like  manner,  spiritual  light  and  sight 
may,  in  some  instances,  be  mistaken  or  not  duly  apprehended  ;  in 
which  case,  the  person,  upon  admitting  and  proceeding  upon  your 
suppositions,  may  perhaps  be  apt  to  give  way  to  unbelief,  and  to 
say.  If  I  am  not  to  be  urged  by  the  Lord's  servants  to  believe  in 
my  present  circumstances,  it  would  surely  be  presumptuous  in  me,  to 
entertain  thoughts  of  attempting  it.  Or,  it  may  be,  he  shall  think  he 
has  not  that  degree  of  spiritual  light  or  sight,  that  is  absolutely  necessa- 
ry in  order  to  his  believing,  and  thus  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief  shall 
make  him  depart  from  the  living  God,  and  neglect  to  set  to  his 
seal  that  he  is  true,  perhaps  from  the  apprehension  that  it  is  his 
duty  to  remain  as  he  is,  or  at  least  in  the  persuasion  it  would  be 
in  vain  to  essay  to  believe,  till  matters  be  otherwise  ^^^th  him. 
If  I  have  deduced  consequences  from  your  words  and  manner  of 
reasoning,  which  you  think  they  do  not  justly  bear,  I  will  be  glad 
to  be  rectified  by  you,  dear  Sir,  and  would  be  satisfied  to  know" 
from  you,  how  the  pracdce  you  remark  upon  in  the  fore-mentioned 
passage,  tends  to  help  forward  the  delusions  of  S;!tan.  I  am  apt 
to  believe  the  grounds  upon  Vvhich  you  proceed,  in  the  whole  para- 
graph I  have  mentioned,  is,  that  you  have  with  you,  real  Antino- 
mians,  who  teach  things  about  faith  and  believing,  subversive  of 
new  obedience  and  gospel  holiness,  and  inconsistent  with  the  Scrip- 
ture doctrines  concerning  them.  But  as  w^e  have  few,  if  any  such 
at  all,  (I  believe  I  might  say  more,)  in  this  country,  and  at  the 
same  time  have  numbers  who  would  have  the  most  accurate  and 
judicious  evangelical  preachers  to  insist  a  great  deal  more  upon 
doing,  and  less  upon  believing,  JMark  x.  1 7 — 23,  for  what  reasons 
you  will  perceive,  I  am  afraid  your  words  will  be  misrepresented 
by  them,  and  a  sense  put  upon  your  expressions,  which  you  were 
far  from  intending.  I  expect  a  mighty  clamour  by  the  Seceders, 
if  the  book  shall  fall  into  their  hands.  All  I'  shall  say  about  what 
is  expressed  by  you,  page  78,  line  32,  etc.  is,  that  I  have  frequently 


22S  lAlE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS/ 

heard  it  laitght  by  those  accounted  the  most  orthodox,  that  the  be- 
liever was  bound  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  in  the  very  worst  frame  he 
could  be  in,  and  that  the  exercise  of  faith  was  the  way  to  be  deliv- 
ered from  darkness,  deadness,  backshding,  etc.  It  is  impossible 
one  should  err,  who  follows  the  course  prescribed  by  the  Lord  in 
his  word.  I  suppose  no  person  is  bound  or  allowed  to  defer  be- 
lieving one  single  moment,  because  he  finds  himself  in  a  bad  situ- 
iition,  because  the  Spirit  breaches  not  on  him,  or  he  finds  not  actual 
influence  from  heaven  communicated  to  him  at  that  season,  ren- 
dering him  capable  or  meet  for  it;  for  this  reason,  that  not  our 
ability  or  fitness,  but  the  Lord's  command,  is  the  rule  of  duty,  etc. 
It  merits  consideration,  whether  the  believer  should  ever  doubt  of 
his  state,  on  any  account  whatever;  because  doubting,  as  opposed 
to  believing,  is  absolutely  sinful.  I  know  the  opposite  has  been 
prescribed,  when  tlie  saint  is  plunged  in  prevailing  iniquity ;  but 
does  not  doubting  strengthen  corruption  ?  is  not  unbelief  the  lead- 
ing sin,.  a.s  faith  is  the  leading  grace  ? 

"Page  258,  (Note,)  you  cite  as  an  authority  Mr.  Stoddard,  af- 
iirming,  "  One  way  of  sin  is  exception  enough  against  men's  salva- 
iion,  though  their  temptations  be  great."  I  well  remember  the 
singularly  judicious  Dr.  Owen  somewhere  says  to  this  effect,  "Pre- 
valence of  a  particular  sin  over  a  person  for  a  considerable  time, 
shews  him  to  be  no  saint,  except  when  under  the  power  of  a 
strong  temptation."  I  would  suppose  such  texts  as  Isaiah  Ixiv. 
6,  page  65,  3,  etc.  warranted  the  Doctor  to  assert  as  he  did. 
It  is,  I  own,  no  small  difficulty  to  steer  the  middle  course, 
betwixt  affording  hypocrites  ground  unwarrantably  to  presume 
on  the  one  hand,  and  wounding  the  Lord's  dear  children  on 
the  other ;  and  all  tlie  little  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  I  would 
hope  the  Lord  has  given  me,  nMkes  me  think  ^Ir.  Shepherd,, 
good  and  great  man  as  he  wa&,  verged  not  a  Httle  to  the  last  ex.- 
treme,  with  whom,  if  I  mistake  not,  Mr.  Stoddard  symbolizes  in 
the  above  assertion  ;  for  such  as  I  have  mentioned,  1  apprehend  is 
the  drift  and  tendency  of  Mr.  Shepherd's  principles.  In  some  in- 
stances, daily  exj^erience  and  observation  contirm  me  still  more» 
that  we  should  be  very  cautious  and  modest  when  asserting  on  thai 
head,  and  sliould  take  care  to  go  no  farther  in  the  matter,  than  we 
have  plain  Scripture  to  bear  us  out.  The  consideration,  that  in- 
dwelling sin  sometimes  certainly  gets  such  ascendant,  that  tlie  new 
creature  is,  for  the  time  the  Lord  sees  meet,  as  fire  buried  under 
ashes,  undiscerned  and  inactive,  lays  foundation,  in  my  humble  ap- 
prehension, for  saying  somewhat  stronger  on  that  point,,  than  I  would 
choose  to  utter  in  public  teaching,  and  how  long  a  saint  may  have 
been  in  the  case  now  hinted,.  I  suppose  it  belorigs  not  to  us  precise- 
ly to  determine. 

"  Page  259,  you  say,  "  Nor  can  a  true  sahit  ever  fall  away,  so 
that  it  shall  come  to  this,  that  ordinarilv  there  shall  be  no  reraarlw- 


Live  of  president  edwards.  229 

able  difference  in  his  walk  and  beha-\ionr  since  his  conversion,  IVoni 
what  was  before."  'I  do  not  i-enieniber  that  tlie  Scripture  any 
where  mentions,  that  David  or  Solomon  were  sanctified  from  the 
womb.  I  think  the  contrary  may  be  presumed  ;  and  it  is  evident 
for  a  considerable  time,  with  the  first  ordinarily,  and  for  a  long  time, 
in  the  case  of  the  latter  ordinarily,  there  was  a  remarkable  differ- 
ence for  the  worse,  in  the  walk  and  behaviour  of  both  of  them, 
when  we  are  sure  they  were  saints,  from  what  it  appears  it  had 
been  in  their  younger  years.  Besides,  let  us  suppose  a  person  of 
a  good  natural  disposition,  bred  up  in  aversion  to  all  vicious  prac- 
tices, by  a  rehgious  education  and  example,  and  virtuous  inclina- 
tion thus  cultivated  in  him,  2  Peter  ii.  20,  and  he  is  converted 
when  come  to  maturity,  and  afterwards  corruption  in  him  meets 
with  peculiar  temptations  ;  I  doubt  much  if  there  would  be  a  re- 
markable difTerence  betwixt  his  then  conversation  and  walk,  and 
that  in  unregenerac}^  The  contrary  I  think  is  found  in  experi- 
ence, and  the  principles  laid  down  leave  room  to  suppose  it. 

"  I  own  in  what  I  have  above  said  I  have  perhaps  gone  farther 
than  becomes  a  man  of  my  standing  in  wridng  to  one  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards's experience,  and  am  heartily  sorry  my  first  letter  to  you  is 
in  such  a  strain,  and  on  such  a  subject.  But  love  to  you,  dear  Sir, 
and  concern  lest  you  should  be  thought  to  patronize  what  I  am  sure 
you  do  not,  and  to  oppose  what  are  your  real  sentiments,  made  me 
write  with  such  freedom  and  break  over  restraints,  which  modesty, 
decency,  etc.,  should  otherwise  have  laid  me  under,  that  you  might 
liave  an  opportunity  to  know  in  what  light  these  things  I  mention  to 
you  appear  to  some  who  are  your  real  friends  in  this  country.  A 
valuable  minister,  in  looking  into  what  is  noticed  in  pages  T8  and 
79,  said  to  me,  it  would  be  right  some  should  write  you  about  it, 
and  I  take  this  first  opportunity,  that  you  may  have  access  to  judge 
of  the  matter,  and  what  it  may  be  proper  for  you  to  do,  or  not  to 
do  in  it. 

"  I  will  expect  an  ansvrer  with  your  convenience.  I  liope  you 
will  deal  freely  with  me  ;  for  I  can  say,  I  would  sit  down  and  learn 
at  your  feet,  dear  Sir,  accounting  myself  as  a  child  in  knowledge 
of  the  Scriptures,  wdien  compared  with  others  I  will  not  name,  and 
the  longer  I  live  I  see  the  greater  advantage  in  improvements  of 
that  kind.  Conceal  nothing  that  you  think  will  tend  to  put  me 
right  if  you  find  my  vievvs  are  not  just.  I  proposed  in  the  begin- 
ning of  this  letter  to  trouble  you  with  some  questions  or  doubts,  and 
slrall  mention  one  or  two  at  present.  What  should  one  do  who  is 
incessantly  harrassed  by  Satan;  can  by  no  means  keep  him  out  of 
his  mind;  has  used  all  means  prescribed  in  Scripture  and  sug- 
gested by  divines  for  resistance  known  to  him,  in  vain;  it  may 
be  for  a  long  time  has  cried  to  Christ,  but  he  liears  not, 
seems  not  to  regard  him ;  all  his  efforts  are  swallowed  up  in  the 
deluge  oi  the  foe  ;  d@  what  he  will,  seems  to  gain  no  g:round  against 


230  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  powers  of  darkness  ;  is  apt  to  dread  he  shall  sink  under  the 
load,  and  never  shall  be  delivered  in  this  world  ?  What  would  }^ou 
advise  such  a  person  to  do?  What  construction,  think  you,  should 
be  put  on  the  sovereign  conduct  and  dispensation  of  Heaven  toward 
him  ?  I  have  occasion  to  be  conversant  about  this  case  practically 
demonstrated,  of  many  years  continuance,  without  interruption  ; 
and  will  therefore  be  glad  to  have  your  mind  about  it  in  a  pardcular 
manner,  and  as  much  at  large  as  you  conveniently  can.  It  is  said, 
all  things  work  for  good,  etc.  As  degrees  of  glory  will  be  in  pro- 
portion to  those  of  grace,  how  can  it  be  made  appear  it  is  for  one's 
good  what  sometimes  happens  to  saints,  their  being  permitted  to 
fall  under  backslidings  and  spiritual  decays,  and  to  die  in  that  state, 
perhaps  after  continuing  in  it  a  considerable  while,  and  when  their 
situation  has  been  attended  with  the  melancholy  circumstances  and 
consequences  that  sometimes  have  place  in  that  state  of  matters  ? 
The  solution  of  this  I  would  gladly  receive  from  you. 

"Are  the  works  of  the  great  Mr.  Boston  known  in  your  country, 
viz.  the  Fourfold  State  of  ^lan.  View  of  the  Covenant  of  Grace, 
and  a  Discourse  on  Afflictions,  and  Church  communion,  etc.  If 
not  inform  me  by  your  letter.  I  have  now  need  to  own  my  fault 
in  troubling  you  with  so  long  a  letter,  and  so  I  shall  end,  etc. 

Letter  from  Mr.  Edwards  to  Mr.  M'Culloch,  of  Cambuslang'. 

''  JS'orthampton,  Jan.  21,  1747. 
"To  the  Rev.  Mr.  M'Culloch. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Brother, 

"  The  time  seems  long  to  me,  since  I  have  received  a  letter 
from  you  ;  I  have  had  two  letters  from  each  of  my  other  corres- 
})ondents  in  Scotland,  since  I  have  had  any  from  you.  Our  corres- 
pondence has  been  to  me  very  pleasant ;  and  I  am  very  loth  it  should 
fail. 

"  Great  changes  have  been,  dear  Sir,  since  I  have  had  a  letter 
from  you ;  and  God  has  done  great  things,  both  in  Scotland  and 
Amoj'ica  :  Though  not  of  the  same  nature,  with  those  that  were 
wrought  some  years  ago,  by  the  out-pourings  of  his  Spirit :  Yet 
those  wherein  his  Providence  is  on  many  accounts  exceedingly  re- 
markable :  In  Scotland,  in  the  suppression  of  the  late  rebellion ; 
and  in  iVmerica,  in  our  preservation  from  the  great  French  Arma- 
da, from  Brest,  and  their  utter  disappointment  and  confusion,  by 
the  immediate  and  wonderful  Hand  of  Heaven  against  them,  with- 
out any  interposition  of  any  arm  of  flesh :  The  nearest  akin  to 
God's  wonderful  works  of  old,  in  the  defence  of  his  people,  in 
Moses',  Joshua's,  and  Hezekiah's  time,  perhaps  of  any  that  have 
been  in  these  latter  ages  of  the  world.  I  have  been  writing  some 
account  of  it  to  Mr.  IVIcLaurin :  But  since  then,  I  have  seen  a 
thanksgiving  sermon  of  Mr.  Prince's,  preached  on  that  occasion  : 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  231 

in  which  is  a  much  more  distinct,  particular,  and  (I  suppose)  exact 
account  of  the  matter,  (which  sermon  you  will  doubtless  see.) 
Tliough  there  is  something,  that  I  observed  in  my  letter  to  iMr. 
McLaurin,  of  the  coming  of  that  fleet,  its  being  overruled  lor  our 
preservation,  in  this  part  of  the  land  where  1  dwell,  when  eminently 
ex})osed,  and  when  we  have  all  reason  to  think  our  enemies  in  Canada 
had  formed  designs  against  us,  that  Mr.  Prince  does  not  mention. 

"In  my  last  letter  to  you,  I  wTote  you  some  thoughts  and  notions 
I  had  entertained,  concerning  the  pouring  out  of  the  sixth  vial 
on  the  river  Euphrates,  and  the  approach  of  the  happy  day  of 
the  Church's  prosperity  and  glory,  and  the  utter  destruction  of  An- 
tichrist, and  other  enemies  of  the  Church,  so  often  spoken  of  in  the 
Holy  Scriptures :  I  signified  it  as  what  appeared  to  me  probable, 
that  one  main  thing  intended  by  the  drying  up  the  river  Euphrates, 
was  the  drying  up  the  temporal  supplies  and  income  of  the  Anti- 
christian  church  and  kingdom;  and  suggested  it  to  consideration 
W'hether  God,  appearing  so  wonderfully  for  the  taking  Cape  Bre- 
ton, and  the  American  Fishery,  tliereon  depending,  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  French,  and  thereby  diying  up  so  great  a  fountain  of 
the  wealth  of  the  kingdom  of  France,  might  not  be  looked  upon 
as  one  effect  of  the  sixth  vial.  I  would  now  also  propose  it  to  be 
considered,  whether  God's  so  extraordinarily  appearing  to  baffle  the 
great  attempt  of  the  French  nation,  to  re-possess  themselves  of  this 
place,  be  not  some  confirmation  of  it;  and  whether  or  no  the  al- 
most ruining  the  French  East  India  Trade,  by  the  dreadful  hand 
of  heaven,  in  burying  their  stores  at  Port  L'Orient,  and  the  taking 
so  many  of  their  ships  by  Commodore  Barnet,  and  also  the  taking 
so  many  of  their  Soudi  Sea  ships,  vastly  rich,  and  several  other 
things  of  like  nature,  that  might  be  mentioned,  may  not  probably 
be  further  effects  of  this  vial.  But  w^iatever  he  thought  of  these 
particular  events,  and  the  application  of  the  prophecies  to  them  ; 
}'et  it  appears  to  me,  that  God's  late  dealings,  both  wiih  Great  Bri- 
tain and  the  American  Plantations,  if  they  be  duly  considered,  as 
they  are  in  themselves  and  circumstances,  afford  just  reason  to 
hope  that  a  day  is  approaching  for  the  peculiar  triumphs  of  divine 
mercy  and  sovereign  grace,  over  all  the  unworthiness,  and  most  ag- 
gravated provocations  of  men.  If  it  be  considered  what  God's 
past  dealings  have  been  with  England  and  Scotland,  for  two  centu- 
ries past,  what  obligations  he  has  laid  those  nations  under,  and  par- 
ticidarly  the  mercies  bestowed  more  lately ;  and  we  then  well  con- 
sider the  kind,  manner,  and  degree,  of  the  provocations  and  wick- 
edness of  those  nations,  and  yet  that  God  so  spares  them,  and  lias 
of  late  so  remarkably  delivered  them,  when  so  exposed  to  deserved 
destruction  :  and  if  it  be  also  considered  what  God's  dealings  have 
been  with  this  land,  on  its  first  setdement,  and  from  its  beginning 
hitherto,  and  how^  long  we  have  been  revolting  and  growing  worse, 
and  what  great  mercy  he  has  lately  granted  us,  on  the  late  remark- 


2o2  LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

able  striving  of  bis  Spirit  with  us,  and  bow  his  Spirit  has  been  treat- 
ed, his  mercy  and  grace  despised,  and  bitterly  opposed,  how  great- 
ly we  have  backslidden,  what  a  degree  of  stupidity  we  are  sunk 
into,  and  how  full  the  land  has  been  of  such  kinds  of  wickedness, 
as  have  approached  so  near  to  the  unpardonable  sin  against  the 
Holy  Ghost,  and  how  obstinate  we  are  still  in  our  wickedness,  ^\ith- 
out  the  least  appearances  of  repentance  or  reformation;  and  it  be 
then  considered  how  God  has  of  late  made  his  arm  bare,  in  almost 
miraculous  dispensations  of  his  Providence,  in  our  behalf,  to  succeed 
us  against  our  enemies,  and  defend  us  from  them  : — I  say  if  these 
things  be  considered,  it  appears  evident  to  me,  not  only  that  God's 
mercies  are  infinitely  above  the  mercies  of  men ;  but  also  that  he 
has  in  these  things,  gone  quite  out  of  the  usual  course  of  his  Provi- 
dence and  manner  of  dealings  witli  his  professing  people,  and  I  con- 
fess, it  gives  me  great  hope  that  God's  appointed  time  is  approach- 
ing, for  the  triumphs  and  displays  of  his  infinite,  sovereign  grace, 
beyond  all  that  ever  has  been  before,  from  the  beginning  of  the 
world  ;  at  least  I  think  there  is  much  in  these  things,  considered 
together  with  other  remarkable  things  God  has  lately  done,  to  en- 
courage and  animate  God's  people  unitedly  to  cry  to  God,  that  he 
would  appear  for  the  bringing  on  those  glorious  effects  of  his 
mercy,  so  often  foretold  to  be  in  the  latter  days ;  and  particularly 
to  continue  that  Concert  for  Prayer,  set  on  foot  in  Scotland,  and 
which  it  is  now  proposed  to  continue  seven  years  longer.  My  wife 
and  children  join  with  me  in  respectful,  cordial  salutations  to  you 
and  yours. 

"  That  we  may  be  remembered  in  your  prayers,  is  the  request, 
dear  Sir,  of  your  affectionate  Brother, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

To  the  letter  from  IMr.  Gillespie,  Mr.  Edwards  returned  the 
following  answer. 

^^  JVoi'thampton,  Sej)t.  4,  1747. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"I  received  your  letter  of  Nov.  24,  1746,  though  very  long 
after  it  was  written.  I  thank  you  for  it,  and  for  your  proposing  a 
correspondence.  Such  an  offer  I  shall  gladly  embrace,  and  es- 
teem it  a  great  privilege,  more  especially  from  the  character  I 
have  received  of  you  from  Mr.  Abercrombie,  who  I  perceive  was 
intimately  acquainted  with  you. 

As  to  the  objections  you  make  against  some  things  contained 
in  my  work  on  Religions  Affections,  I  am  sorry  you  did  not  read 
the  book  through,  before  you  made  them ;  if  you  had,  perhaps  the 
difficulties  would  not  have  appeared  quite  so  great.  As  to  what  is 
contained  in  the  7Stli  and  79th  pages,  I  suppose  there  is  not  the 


LIFE   OF  VP.ESIDKNT  F.D\VA1U>?{.  2.17 

least  difference  of  opinion  between  you  and  me,  unless  it  be  con- 
cerning the  signification  and  propriety  of  expressions.  I  am  fully 
of  your  mind,  and  always  was  without  the  least  doubt  of  it;  "  That 
every  one,  both  saint  and  sinner,  is  indispensably  bound,  at  all  sea- 
sons, by  the  divine  authority,  to  believe  instantly  on  the  Lord  Jesus, 
and  that  the  command  of  the  Lord,  1  John  iii.  23,  that  we 
should  believe  on  the  name  of  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,  as  it  is  a 
prescription  of  the  moral  law,  no  less  binds  the  sinner  to  imme- 
diate performance,  than  the  commandment  not  to  kill,  to  keep  the 
Sabbath  day,  or  any  other  duty,  as  to  the  present  performance  of 
W'hich,  in  way  of  duty,  all  agree  the  sinner  is  bound  ;  and  that  men 
are  bound  to  trust  the  divine  faithfulness,  be  their  case  with  respect 
to  light  and  darkness,  sight,  etc.  what  it  will ;  and  that  no  situation 
they  can  be  in,  looses  them  from  obligation  to  glorify  the  Lord  at 
ail  seasons,  and  to  expect  the  fulfilment  of  his  words ;  and  that  the 
sinner  who  is  witliout  spiritual  light  or  sight  is  bound  to  believe,  and 
that  it  is  a  duty  at  that  very  time  incumbent  on  him  to  believe.'* 
But  I  conceive  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  difference  between  these 
two  things,  viz.  its  being  tlie  duty  of  a  man,  who  is  without  spiritual 
light  or  sight,  to  believe,  and  its  being  his  duty  to  beheve  without 
spiritual  light  or  sight,  or  to  beheve  while  he  yet  remains  without 
spiritual  light  or  sight.  Just  the  same  difference,  which  there  is  be- 
tween these  two  things,  viz.  its  being  Ms  duty  who  has  no  faith  to 
believe,  and  its  being  his  duty  to  beheve  without  faith,  or  to  beheve 
without  beheving.  I  trust  none  will  assert  the  latter,  because  of 
the  contradiction  which  it  imphes.  As  it  is  not  proper  to  say,  it  is 
a  man's  duty  to  beheve  without  faith,  because  it  implies  a  contradic- 
tion; so  I  think  it  equally  improper  to  say,  it  is  a  man's  duty  to  be- 
lieve without  those  things  which  are  essentially  imphed  in  faith,  be- 
cause that  also  implies  a  contradiction.  But  a  spiritual  sight  of 
Christ,  or  knowledge  of  Christ,  is  essentially  implied  in  the  very 
nature  and  notion  of  faith  ;  and  therefore  it  is  absurd  to  talk  of  be- 
heving on  Christ,  without  spiritual  light  or  sight.  It  is  the  duty  of 
a  man,  who  is  \vithout  those  things  which  essentially  belong  to  faith, 
to  believe  ;  and  it  is  the  duty  of  a  man,  who  is  without  those  things 
which  essentially  belong  to  love,  to  love  God ;  because  it  is  an  in- 
dispensable obligation  that  hes  on  all  men  at  all  times,  and  in  all 
circumstances,  to  love  God  :  but  yet  it  is  not  a  duty  to  love  God 
without  loving  him,  or  continuing  without  those  things  which  essen- 
tially belong  to  his  love.  It  is  the  duty  of  those  wiio  have  no  sense 
of  the  loveliness  of  God  and  have  no  esteem  of  him,  to  love  him, 
and  they  are  not  in  the  least  excused,  by  the  want  of  this  sense  and 
esteem  in  not  loving  him  one  moment;  but  yet  it  would  be  properly 
nonsense  to  say  it  is  their  duty  to  love  him,  without  any  sense  of 
his  loveliness,  or  esteem  of  him.  It  is  indeed  their  duty  this  mo- 
ment to  come  out  of  their  disesteem,  and  stupid  wicked  insensibihty 
of  his  loveliness,  and  to  love  him.  I  made  the  distinction,  (I  thought) 
Vol.  L  30 


234  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

very  plainly,  in  the  midst  of  those  sentences  you  quote  as  excep- 
tionable. I  say  expressly,  p.  74,  "  It  is  truly  the  duty  of  those,  who 
are  in  darkness,  to  come  out  of  darkness  into  light  and  believe ;  but, 
that  they  should  confidently  believe  and  trust,  while  they  yet  re- 
main without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  is  an  anti-scriptural  and  absurd 
doctrine."  The  misunderstanding  between  us,  dear  Sir,  I  sup- 
pose to  be  in  the  different  application  of  the  particle  without^  in  my 
use  of  it,  and  your  understanding  of  it,  or  what  we  understand  as 
spoken  of  and  supposed  in  the  expression,  without  spiritual  light 
or  sight.  As  I  use  it,  I  apply  it  to  the  act  of  believing,  and  I  sup- 
pose it  to  be  very  absurd  to  talk  of  an  act  of  faith  without  spiritual 
light  or  sight,  wherein  I  suppose  you  will  allow  me  to  be  in  the 
right.  As  you  understand  it,  it  is  applied  to  duty  or  ohligation,  and 
you  suppose  it  to  be  not  at  all  absurd,  to  talk  of  an  obligation  to  be- 
lieve without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  but  that  the  obligation  remains 
full,  where  there  is  no  spiritual  light  or  sight,  wherein  I  allow  you  are 
in  the  right.  I  think.  Sir,  if  you  read  what  I  have  said  in  my  book  on 
this  head  again,  it  will  be  exceedingly  apparent  to  you,  that  it  is  thus 
that  I  apply  the  preposition  ivithout,  and  not  as  you  before  un- 
derstood it.  I  thought  I  had  very  plainly  manifested,  that  what  I 
meant  by  being  in  darkness  was  being  in  spiritual  blindness,  and 
so  in  a  dead,  stupid,  and  unchristian  frame,  and  not  what  is  com^ 
monly  called  being  without  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  under 
the  hidings  of  his  face.  Great  numbers  in  this  country  proceed  on 
the  supposition,  in  their  opinions  and  practice,  that  there  really  is 
such  a  manner  of  believing,  such  a  kind  of  faith  as  this,  viz.  a  con- 
fident believing  and  firm  trusting  in  God  in  the  dark,  in  the  sense 
just  mentioned,  which  is  the  subject  matter  of  divine  prescription, 
and  which  many  actually  have.  Indeed  there  are  innumerable  in- 
stances of  such  as  are  apparently  in  a  most  negligent,  apostate,  and 
everyway  unchristian  and  wicked  frame;  who  yet,  encouraged  by  this 
principle,  retain  a  strong  confidence  of  their  piety,  and  imagine  that 
herein  they  do  their  duty  and  glorify  God,  under  the  notion  of  trust- 
ing God  in  the  dark,  and  hoping  against  hope,  and  not  relying  on 
their  own  righteousness  ;  and  they  suppose  it  would  show  a  legal 
spirit  to  do  otherwise.  I  thought  it  would  be  manifest  to  every 
reader  that  I  was  arguing  against  such  persons  as  these. 

"  You  say,  "  It  merits  consideration,  whether  the  believer  should 
ever  doubt  of  his  state,  on  any  account  whatever,  because  doubt- 
ing, as  opposed  to  believing,  is  absolutely  sinful."  Here,  Sir,  you 
seem  to  suppose  that  a  person's  doubting  of  his  oivn  good  estate,  is 
the  proper  opposite  of  faith,  and  these  and  some  other  expressions 
in  your  letter  seem  to  suppose  that  doubting  of  one^s  good  estate, 
and  unbelief,  are  the  same  thing  ;  and  so,  that  confidence  in  one's 
good  estate,  m^d  faith,  are  the  same  thing.  This,  I  acknowledge, 
I  do  not  understand  ;  I  do  not  suppose  faith,  and  a  person'' s  believ- 
ing that  he  has  faith,  to  be  the  same  thing.     Nor  do  I  take  unbe- 


LIFE    UF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  235 

lief^  or  being  without  faitli,  and  doubting  ivhether  he  has  U,  to  be 
the  same  thing,  but  entirely  different.  I  should  have  been  glad 
either  that  you  had  taken  a  little  more  notice  of  what  I  say  on  this 
head,  p.  79,  80,  or  that  you  had  said  something  to  convince  me  that 
I  am  wTong  in  this  point.  The  exercise  of  faith  is  doubtless  the  way 
to  be  delivered  from  darkness,  deadness,  backsliding,  etc.  or  rather 
is  the  deliverance ;  as  forsaking  sin  is  the  way  to  deliverance  from 
sin,  and  is  the  deliverance  itself.  The  exercise  of  grace  is  doubt- 
less the  way  to  deliverance  from  a  graceless  frame,  which  consists 
in  the  want  of  the  exercise  of  grace.  But  as  to  what  you  say,  or 
seem  to  intimate,  that  a  person's  being  confident  of  his  own  good 
estate,  is  the  way  to  be  delivered  from  darkness,  deadness,  back- 
sliding and  prevailing  iniquity  ;  I  think,  whoever  supposes  this  to  be 
God's  method  of  delivering  his  saints,  when  sunk  into  an  evil,  care- 
less carnal  and  unchristian  frame,  first  to  assure  them  of  their  good 
estate  and  his  favour,  while  they  yet  remain  in  such  a  frame,  and 
to  make  that  the  means  of  their  deliverance,  does  surely  mistake 
God's  method  of  dealing  with  such  persons.  Among  all  the  mul- 
titudes I  have  had  opportunity  to  observe,  I  never  knew  one  dealt 
with  after  this  manner.  I  have  known  many  brought  back  from 
great  declension,  who  appeared  to  me  to  be  real  saints  ;  but  it  was 
in  away  very  different  from  this.  In  the  first  place,  conscience 
has  been  awakened,  and  they  have  been  brought  into  distressing 
fears  of  the  wrath  of  God.  Thus  they  have  become  the  subjects 
of  a  new  work  of  humiliation,  and  have  been  led  deeply  to  feel 
that  they  deserve  his  wrath,  even  vrhile  they  have  feared  it,  before 
God  has  delivered  them  from  their  apprehensions,  and  comforted 
tliem  with  a  renewed  sense  of  his  favour. 

"  As  to  what  I  say  of  the  necessity  of  universal  obedience,  or  of 
one  way  of  known  sin,  (i.  e.  so  as  properly  to  be  said  to  be  the  way 
and  manner  of  the  man,)  being  exception  enough  against  a  man's 
salvation  ;  I  should  have  known  better  what  to  have  said  further 
about  it,  if  you  had  briefly  shown  how  the  passages  of  Scripture 
which  I  mention,  and  the  arguments  which  I  deduce  from  them, 
are  insufficient  for  the  proof  of  this  point.  I  confess  they  appear 
to  me  to  prove  it  as  fully,  as  any  thing  concerning  the  necessary 
qualifications  of  a  christian  can  be  proved  from  Scripture. 

"You  object  against  my  saying  p.  259,  "Nor  can  a  true 
saint  ever  fall  away  to  such  a  degree,  that  ordinarily  there  shall  be 
no  remarkable  difference  between  his  behaviour,  after  his  conver- 
sion, and  before."  This,  I  think,  implies  no  more  than  that  his  be- 
haviour, in  similar  circumstances,  and  under  similar  trials,  will  have 
a  remarkable  difference.  As  to  the  instances  of  David  and  Solo- 
mon, I  am  not  aware  that  the  Scriptures  give  us  any  where  so  full 
a  history  of  their  behaviour  before  their  conversion,  as  to  enable  us 
to  compare  it  with  their  subsequent  life.  These  examples  are  un- 
certain.    But  I  think  those  doctrines  of  the  Scriptures  are  not  un- 


236  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

certain,  which  I  mention  in  the  passage  you  cite,  lo  prove  that  con- 
verts are  new  men,  new  creatures,  that  they  are  renewed  not  only 
within  but  w'ithout,  that  old  things  are  passed  away  and  all  things 
become  new^,  that  they  walk  in  newness  of  life,  that  the  members 
of  their  bodies  are  new^,  that  whereas  they  before  were  the  servants 
of  sin,  and  yielded  their  members  servants  of  iniquity,  now  they 
yield  them  servants  of  righteousness  unto  holiness. 

"As  to  the  doubts  and  cases  of  difficulty  you  mention,  I  think  it 
needless  for  a  divine  of  your  character,  to  apply  for  the  solution  of 
them  to  one,  who  ought  rather  to  take  the  attitude  of  a  learner. 
However,  since  you  are  pleased  to  insist  on  my  giving  my  mind 
upon  them,  I  would  observe,  with  regard  to  the  first  case  you  men- 
tion, that  of  a  person  incessantly  harrassed  by  Satan,  etc.  you  do 
not  point  out  the  nature  of  the  temptations  with  which  he  is  har- 
rassed ;  and  without  this,  I  think  it  impossible  to  give  proper  advice 
and  directions  concerning  it.  ..  Satan  is  to  be  resisted  in  a  very  dif- 
ferent manner,  in  different  kinds  of  onsets.  When  persons  are 
harrassed  with  those  strange,  horrid  impressions,  to  which  persons 
afflicted  with  hypochondria  are  often  subject;  he  is  to  be  resisted  in 
a  very  different  manner,  from  what  is  proper  in  cases  of  violent 
temptation  to  gratify  some  worldly  lust.  In  the  former  case,  1 
should  by  no  means  advise  men  to  resist  the  devil  by  entering  the 
lists  with  him,  and  engaging  in  a  violent  struggle  with  the  grand  ad- 
versary ;  but  rather  by  diverting  the  mind  from  his  frightful  sugges- 
tions, by  going  on  stedfastly  and  diligently  in  the  ordinary  course 
of  duty,  without  allowing  themselves  time  and  leisure  to  attend  to 
his  sophistry,  and  by  committing  themselves  to  God  in  prayer. 
That  is  the  best  way  of  resisting  the  devil,  wdiich  crosses  his  de- 
sign most ;  and  he  more  effectually  disappoints  him  in  such  cases, 
W'ho  treats  him  with  neglect,  than  he  who  engages  in  a  direct  con- 
flict, and  tries  his  strength  and  skill  with  him,  in  a  violent  dispute 
or  combat.  The  latter  course  rather  gives  him  an  advantage  ;  and 
if  he  can  get  persons  thus  engaged  in  a  violent  struggle,  he  gains  a 
great  point.  He  knows  that  hypochondrical  persons  are  not  quali- 
fied to  maintain  it.  By  this  he  diverts  him  from  the  ordinary  course 
of  duty  ;  and  having  gained  his  attention  to  what  he  says,  he  has 
opportunity  to  use  all  his  craft  and  subtlety.  By  such  a  struggle 
he  raises  a  deeper  melancholy,  weakens  the  mind  still  more,  gets 
the  unhappy  man  faster  and  faster  in  his  snares,  and  increases  his 
anxiety  of  mind  ;  which  is  the  very  thing  by  which  he  mainly  ac- 
complishes all  his  purposes  with  such  persons. 

^*  As  to  the  difficulty  of  verifying  Rom.  viii.  20.  Ml  things  shall 
work  together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  in  the  case  of  a 
christian  who  falls  under  backsliding  and  spiritual  decays  ;  it  is  not 
perfectly  obvious  how  this  is  to  be  interpreted,  and  how  far  it  may 
hence  be  inferred,  that  the  temptations  of  christians  from  Satan  and 
an  evil  world,  and  their  declensions  and  sins,  shall  surely  work  for 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARUi^.  237 

tlieir  good.       However,  since   you  desire  my  llioughls,  1  will  en- 
deavour to  express  them. 

"  Two  things  may  be  laid  down,  as  certain  and  indubitable,  con- 
cerning this  doctrine  of  the  apostle. 

"  First.  The  meaning  cannot  be  that  God's  actual  dispensations 
towards  each  christian  are  the  best  for  him  of  all  that  are  possible: 
or  that  all  things  which  are  ordered  for  him,  or  done  with  respect 
to  him,  are  in  all  respects  better  for  him  than  any  thing  which  God 
could  have  ordered  or  done,  issuing  in  the  highest  good  and  hap- 
piness to  which  he  can  possibly  be  brought ;  for  that  implies  that 
God  will  confer  on  every  one  of  his  elect,  as  much  happiness  as  he 
can  confer,  in  the  utmost  exercise  of  his  omnipotence,  and  this  sets 
aside  all  those  different  degrees  of  grace  and  holiness  here,  and 
glory  hereafter,  w^hich  he  bestows  according  to  his  sovereign  plea- 
sure. 

"  All  things  work  together  for  good  to  the  saints  ;  all  may  have 
a  concurring  tendency  to  their  happiness,  and  may  finally  issue  in  it, 
and  yet  not  tend  to,  or  issue  in,  the  highest  possible  degree  of  hap- 
piness. There  is  a  certain  measure  of  holiness  and  happiness,  to 
wliich  each  one  of  the  elect  is  eternally  appointed,  and  all  things 
that  relate  to  him,  work  together  to  bring  to  pass  this  appointed 
measure  of  good.  The  text  and  context  speak  of  God's  eternal  pur- 
pose of  good  to  the  elect,  predestinating  them  to  a  conformit}^  to  his 
Son  in  holiness  and  happiness;  andihe  implicit  reasoning  of  the  apos- 
tle leads  us  to  suppose  that  all  things  will  purely  concur  to  bring  to 
effect  God's  eternal  purpose.  Hence  from  his  reasoning  it  may 
be  inferred,  that  all  things  will  tend  to,  and  work  together  to  accom- 
plish that  degree  of  good  wdiich  God  has  purposed  to  bestow  upon 
them,  and  not  any  more.  Indeed  it  would  be  in  itself  unreasona- 
ble to  suppose  any  thing  else  ;  for  as  God  is  the  supreme  orderer 
of  all  things,  doubtless  all  things  shall  be  so  ordered,  that  with  one 
consent,  they  shall  help  to  bring  to  pass  his  ends  and  purposes  ;  but 
surely  not  to  bring  to  pass  what  he  does  not  aim  at,  and  never  in- 
tended. God,  in  his  government  of  the  world,  is  carrying  on  his 
own  designs  in  every  thing  ;  but  he  is  not  carrying  on  that  which  is 
not  his  design,  and  therefore  there  is  no  need  of  supposing,  that  all 
the  circumstances,  means  and  advantages  of  every  saint,  are  the 
best  in  every  respect  that  God  could  have  ordered  for  him,  or  that 
there  could  have  been  no  circumstances  or  means  of  which  he 
could  have  been  the  subject,  which  would  with  God's  usual  bles- 
sing have  issued  in  his  greater  good.  Every  christian  is  a  living 
stone,  that  in  this  present  state  of  preparation,  is  fitting  for  the  place 
appointed  for  him  in  the  heavenly  temple.  In  this  sense  all  tilings 
undoubtedly  work  together  for  good  to  every  one  wiio  is  called  ac- 
cording to  God's  pm-pose.  He  is,  all  the  while  he  lives  in  this 
world,  by  all  the  dispensations  of  Providence  towards  him,  fitting 


238  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

for  the  particular  mansion  in  glory,  which  is  appointed  and  prepar- 
ed for  him. 

Secondly.  When  it  is  said,  that  "  all  things  work  together  for 
good,  to  them  that  love  God,"  it  cannot  be  intended  that  all  things, 
both  positive  and  negative,  are  h  est  for  them;  in  other  words,  that 
not  only  every  positive  thing,  of  which  christians  are  the  subjects, 
or  in  which  they  are  concerned,  will  work  for  their  good,  but  also, 
that,  when  any  thing  is  absent  or  withheld  from  them  by  God  in  his 
providence,  that  absence  or  withholding  is  also  for  their  good,  in 
such  a  sense,  as  to  be  better  for  them  than  the  presence  or  be- 
stowment  would  have  been  :  For  this  would  have  the  same  absurd 
consequence  which  was  mentioned  before,  viz.  That  God  makes 
every  christian  as  happy  as  he  possibly  can  make  him.  And  if  so,  it 
would  follow  that  God's  withholding  from  his  people  greater  de- 
grees of  the  sanctifying  influences  of  his  Spirit,  is  for  their  good, 
and  that  it  is  best  for  them  to  live  and  die  with  so  small  a  measure 
of  piety  as  they  actually  possess,  wdiich  is  the  same  as  to  say,  that 
it  is  for  their  good  to  have  no  more  good,  or  that  it  is  for  their  hap- 
piness to  have  no  more  happiness  here  and  hereafter.  If  we  care- 
fully examine  the  Apostle's  discourse  in  Rom.  viii.  it  will  be  appa- 
rent that  his  words  imply  no  such  thing.  All  God's  creatures,  and 
all  that  he  does  in  disposing  of  them,  is  for  the  good  of  the  chris- 
tian ;  but  it  will  not  thence  follow,  that  all  God's  forbearing  to  do 
is  also  for  his  good,  or  that  it  is  best  for  liim,  that  God  does  no 
more  for  him. 

Hence,  with  regard  to  the  position,  that  the  sins  and  temptations 
of  chrisdans  are  for  their  good ;  I  suppose  the  following  things  to 
be  true  : 

1.  That  all  things,  w^hatsoever,  are  for  their  good,  things  nega- 
tive as  well  as  positive,  in  tliis  sense,  that  God  intends  that  some 
benefit  to  them  shall  arise  from  every  thing,  so  that  somewhat  of 
the  grace  and  love  of  God,  will  hereafter  be  seen  to  have  been  ex- 
ercised towards  them  in  every  thing.  At  the  same  dme,  the  sove- 
reignty of  God  will  also  be  seen,  with  regard  to  the  measure  of 
the  good  or  benefit  aimed  at,  in  that  some  other  things,  if  God  had 
seen  cause  to  order  them,  would  have  produced  an  liigher  benefit. 
And  wath  regard  to  negative  disposals — consisting,  not  in  God's 
doing,  but  forbearing  to  do,  not  in  giving,  but  watliliolding — some 
benefit,  in  some  respect  or  odier,  will  ever  accrue  to  them,  even 
from  these  ;  though  sometimes  the  benefit  will  not  be  equal  to  the 
benefit  withheld,  if  it  had  been  bestowed.  As  for  instance,  when 
a  christian  lives  and  dies  comparatively  low  in  grace  ;  some  good  im- 
provement shall  be  made  even  of  this,  in  his  eternal  state,  whereby  he 
shall  receive  a  real  benefit,  though  the  benefit  shall  not  be  equal  to 
the  benefit  of  an  higher  degree  of  holiness,  if  God  had  bestowed  it. 

"  2.  God  carries  on  a  design  of  love  to  his  people,  and  to  each 
individual  chrisUan,  not  only  in  all  things  of  which  they  are  the 


IJFE    OF    PI12SIDT2NT    ED^VARDS.  239 

subjects  while  they  live,  but  also  in  all  his  works  and  dispensations, 
and  in  all  his  acts  from  eternity  to  eternity. 

"  3.  That  the  sin  in  general,  of  Christians,  is  for  their  good,  in 
this  respect,  viz.  that  through  the  sovereign  grace  and  infinite  wis- 
dom of  God,  the  fact  that  they  have  been  sinful  fallen  creatures, 
and  not  from  the  beginning  perfectly  innocent  and  holy  as  the  elect 
angels,  will  issue  in  a  high  advancement  of  their  eternal  happi- 
ness ;  and  that  they  shall  obtain  some  addidonal  good,  on  occasion 
of  all  the  sin  of  which  they  have  been  the  subjects,  or  have  com- 
mitted, beyond  what  they  would  have  had,  if  they  never  had  been 
fallen  creatures. 

"  4.  The  sin  of  christians  cannot  in  this  sense  be  for  their  good, 
that  it  should  finally  be  best  for  them,  that  while  they  lived  in  this 
world,  their  restoration  and  recovery  from  the  corruption  to  which 
they  became  subject  by  the  fall,  was  no  greater,  that  the  mortifica- 
tion of  sin,  and  spiritual  vivification  of  the  soul,  was  carried  on  to 
no  higher  degree,  that  they  w^ere  so  deficient,  in  love  to  God,  love 
to  men,  humility,  and  heavenly-mindedness,  that  they  did  so  few 
good  works,  and  consequently,  that  in  general,  they  had  so  much 
sin,  and  so  litde  holiness  ;  for  in  proportion  as  one  of  these  is  more, 
the  other  will  be  less,  as  infallibly,  as  darkness  is  more  or  less,  in 
proportion  to  the  diminution  or  increase  of  light.  It  cannot  finally 
be  better  for  chrisfians,  that  in  general,  while  they  live,  they  had  so 
much  sin  of  heart  and  fife,  rather  than  more  hohness  of  heart  and 
life ;  because  the  reward  of  all  at  last,  will  be  according  to  their 
works.  He  that  sowed  sparingly,  shall  reap  sparingly,  and  he  that 
sowed  bountifully,  shall  reap  also  bountifully,  and  he  that  builds 
wood,  hay  and  stubble,  shall  finally  suffer  loss,  and  have  a  less  re- 
ward, than  if  he  had  built  gold,  silver  and  precious  stones,  though 
he  himself  shall  be  saved.     But  notwithstanding  this, 

"  5.  The  sins  and  falls  of  christians,  may  be  for  their  good, 
and  for  the  better,  in  this  respect,  that  the  issue  may  be  better  than 
if  the  temptation  had  not  happened,  and  so  the  occasion  not  given, 
either  for  the  sin  of  yielding  to  the  temptation,  or  the  virtue  of  over- 
coming it :  And  yet  not  in  this  respect,  (with  regard  to  their  sins 
or  falls  in  general,)  that  it  should  be  better  for  them  in  the  issue, 
that  they  have  yielded  to  the  temptation  offered,  than  if  they  had 
overcome.  For  the  fewer  victories  they  obtain  over  temptation, 
the  fewer  are  their  good  works,  and  particularly  of  that  kind  of 
good  works  to  which  a  distinguished  rew^ard  is  promised  in  Rev.  ii. 
and  iii.  and  in  many  other  parts  of  Scripture.  The  word  of  God 
represents  the  work  of  a  christian  in  this  world  as  a  warfare,  and  it 
is  evident  in  the  Scriptures,  that  he  who  acquits  himself  as  the  best 
soldier,  shall  win  the  greatest  prize.  Therefore,  when  christians 
are  brought  into  backshdings  and  decays,  by  being  overcome  by 
temptations,  the  issue  of  their  backshdings  may  be  some  good  to 
them,  beyond  what  they  would  have  received  if  the  temptations 


240  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDV/ARDS. 

had  never  existed ;  and  yet  their  hackslidings  in  general  may  be  a 
great  loss  to  them  in  tins  respect,  that  they  shall  have  much  less 
reward,  than  if  the  temptations  had  been  overcome,  and  they  had 
persevered  in  spiritual  vigour  and  diligence.  But  3^et  this  don't 
hinder,  but  that, 

"6.  It  may  be  so  ordered  by  a  sovoreign  and  all-wise  God,  that 
the  falls  and  backslidings  of  christians,  through  their  being  over- 
come by  temptations  in  some  particular  instances,  may  prove  best 
for  them,  not  only  because  the  issue  may  be  greater  good  to  them, 
than  they  would  have  received  if  the  temptation  had  not  happened, 
but  even  greater  in  that  instance,  than  if  the  temptation  had  been 
overcome.  It  may  be  so  ordered,  that  their  being  overcome  by 
that  temptation,  shall  be  the  occasion  of  their  having  greater 
strength,  and  on  the  whole,  obtaining  more  and  greater  victories^ 
than  if  they  had  not  fallen  in  that  instance.  But  this  is  no  where 
promised,  nor  can  it  be  so,  that,  in  the  general,  it  should  prove 
better  for  them  that  they  were  foiled  so  much,  and  did  overcome 
so  little,  in  the  course  of  their  lives,  and  that  finally  their  decay  is 
so  great,  or  their  progress  so  small.  From  these  things  it  ap- 
pears, 

^'  7.  That  the  saying  of  the  Apostle,  all  things  work  together 
for  good  to  them  that  love  God,  though  it  be  fulfilled  in  some  re- 
spects to  all  christians,  at  all  times  and  in  all  circumstances,  yet  it 
is  fulfilled  more  especially  and  eminently  to  christians  continuing 
in  the  exercise  of  love  to  God,  not  falling  from  the  exercises,  or 
faihng  in  the  fruits  of  divine  love  in  times  of  trial.  Then  it  is,  that 
temptations,  enemies  and  suffering,  will  be  best  for  them,  working 
that  which  is  most  for  their  good  every  way,  and  they  shall  be 
more  than  conquerors  over  tribulafion,  distress,  persecution,  famine, 
nakedness,  peril  and  sword,  Rom.  viii.  35 — 37. 

"8.  As  God  is  carrying  on  a  design  of  love  to  each  individual 
christian,  in  all  his  works  and  dispensations  whatsoever,  so  the  par- 
ticular design  of  love  to  them  which  he  is  carrying  on,  is  to  fit 
them  for,  and  bring  them  to  their  appointed  place  in  the  heavenly 
temple,  or  to  that  identical  degree  of  happiness  and  glory  in  heav- 
en, which  his  eternal  love  designed  for  them,  and  no  other.  For 
God's  design  of  love  or  of  happiness  to  them,  is  only  just  what  it 
is,  and  is  not  different  from  itself;  and  to  fulfil  this  parficular  de- 
sign of  love,  every  thing  which  God  does,  or  in  any  respect  dis- 
poses, whether  it  be  positive,  privative  or  negative,  contributes ; 
because,  doubtless,  every  thing  which  God  does,  or  in  any  respect 
offers,  tends  to  fulfil  his  aims  and  designs.  Therefore,  undoubt- 
edly, 

"  9.  All  the  while  the  christian  lives  in  the  world,  he  is  prepar- 
ing for  his  appointed  mansion  in  glory,  and  fitting  for  his  place  in 
the  heavenly  building.  All  his  temptations,  though  they  may  oc- 
casion, for  the  present,  great  spiritual  injuries,  yet  at  last  shall  be 


LIFE    OF    PRE:ilDENT    EDWA}li>S.  2\l 

an  occasion  of  his  being  more  fjlted  for  his  place  in  glory.  Hence 
we  may  determine,  that  however  the  christian  may  die  "in  some  re- 
spects under  the  decay  of  spiritual  comfort,  and  of  some  reli«-ious 
affections,  yet  every  christian  dies  at  that  time  when  his  habitual 
fitness  for  his^  place  in  the  heavenly  temple  is  most  complete,  be- 
cause otherwise,  all  things  which  happen  to  him  while  he  lives, 
would  not  work  together  to  fit  him  for  that  place. 

"  10.  God  brings  his  people,  at  the  end  of  their  lives,  to  this 
greatest  fitness  for  their  place  in  heaven,  not  by  diminishing  holi- 
ness in  their  hearts,  but  by  increasing  it,  and  carrying  on  the  work 
of  grace  in  their  souls.  If  it  be  not  so,  that  cannot  be  true,  that 
where  God  has  begun  a  good  ivork  he  will  perform  it,  or  carry  it 
on  to  the  day  of  Christ ;  for  if  they  die  widi  a  less  degree  of  holi- 
ness than  they  had  before,  then  it  ceases  to  be  carried  on  before 
the  day  of  Christ  comes.  If  holiness  finally  decreases,  then  Satan 
so  far  finally  obtains  the  victory.  He  finally  prevails  to  diminish 
the  fire  in  the  smoking  flax,  and  then  how  is  that  promise  verified, 
that  God  will  not  quench  the  smoldng  flax,  till  he  bring  forth  judg- 
ment unto  victory  ?  So  that  it  must  needs  be,  that  although  chris- 
tians may  die  under  decay,  in  some  respects,  yet  they  never  die  un- 
der a  real  habitual  decay  of  the  work  of  grace  in  general.  If  they 
fall,  they  shall  rise  again  before  they  die,  and  rise  higher  than  be- 
fore, if  not  in  joy,  and  some  other  affections,  yet  in  greater  de- 
grees of  spiritual  knovdedge,  self-abasement,  trust  in  God,  and  so- 
lidity and  ripeness  of  grace. 

"  If  these  things  which  have  been  observed  are  true,  then  we 
may  infer  from  them  these  corollaries. 

"  1.  That  notwithstanding  the  truth  of  the  apostle's  declaration  in 
Rom.  viii.  28,  christians  have  cause  to  lament  their  leanness  and 
unfruitfulness,  and  the  fact  that  they  are  guilty  of  so  much  sin,  not 
only  as  it  is  to  the  dishonour  of  God,  but  also  as  it  is  likely  to  re- 
dound to  their  own  eternal  loss  and  damage. 

"  2.  That  nothing  can  be  inferred  from  this  promise,  which  is 
calculated  to  set  aside,  or  make  void  the  influence  of  motives  to 
earnest  endeavours  to  avoid  all  sin,  to  increase  in  holiness,  and 
abound  in  good  works,  from  an  aim  at  an  high  and  eminent  degree 
of  glory  and  happiness  in  a  future  world. 

"  3.  That  fliough  it  is  to  the  eternal  damage  of  christians,  ordi- 
narily, when  they  yield  to,  and  are  overcome  by  temptations;  yet  Sa- 
tan and  the  other  enemies  of  christians,  from  whom  these  tempta- 
tions come,  are  always  wholly  disappointed  in  the  temptafion,  and 
baffled  in  their  design  to  hurt  them,  inasmuch  as  the  temptation  and 
the  sin  which  it  occasions,  are  for  the  saint's  good,  and  they  receive  a 
greater  benefit  in  the  issue,  than  if  the  temptation  had  not  been,  and 
yet  less  than  if  the  temptation  had  been  overcome. 

"As  to  Mr.  Boston's  View  of  the  Covenant  of  Grace,  I  have 
had    some  opportunity  to    examine  it,  and  I   confess   I    do  not 

Vol.  I.  31 


242  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

understand  the  scheme  of  thought  presented  In  that  book.  I 
have  read  his  Fourfold  State  of  Man,  and  liked  it  exceedingly 
well.  I  think  in  that,  he  shows  himself  to  be  a  truly  great  divine. 
"  Hoping  that  you  will  accept  my  letter  with  candour,  and  re- 
member me  in  your  prayers,  I  subscribe  myself 

"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 

"brother  and  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards.'* 

In  October,  1744,  a  number  of  ministers  in  Scotland,  among 
whom,  I  believe,  w^ere  all  the  correspondents  of  Mr.  Edwards  in 
that  country,  thinking  that  the  state  of  the  church  and  the  world 
called  loudly  for  United  Extraordinary  Prayer  to  God,  that  he 
would  deliver  the  nations  from  their  miseries,  and  fill  the  earth  with 
his  glory ;  proposed  that  christians  universally  should,  for  the  two 
years  then  next  ensuing,  set  apart  a  portion  of  time,  on  Saturday 
evening  and  Sabbath  morning,  every  w^eek,  to  be  spent  in  prayer 
for  this  purpose ;  and  that  they  should  still  more  solemnly  devote 
the  first  Tuesday  in  the  last  month  of  each  quarter  of  the  year,  to 
be  spent  either  in  private,  social  or  public,  prayer  to  God,  for  the 
bestowment  of  those  blessings  on  the  world.  Mr.  Edwards  not 
only  w^elcomed  the  proposal  as  soon  as  he  received  it,  but  did  all  in 
his  power  to  promote  its  general  acceptance  by  the  American 
churches;  and  the  following  letter,  alluding  to  a  more  particular 
account  of  the  subject  in  one  to  Mr.  M'Laurin,  which  I  have  not 
been  able  to  procure,  will  in  some  measure  apprize  the  reader  of 
the  efforts,  which  he  made  for  this  purpose. 

"  To  the  Rev.  William  M'Culloch. 

'' JVorthamjpton,  Sep.  23,  1747. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"I thank  you  for  your  letter  of  March  12,  1747,  which  I  sup- 
pose lay  a  long  while  at  Mr.  Prince's  in  Boston,  before  I  received 
it,  through  Mr.  Prince's  forgetfulness.  It  seems  he  had  forgotten 
that  he  had  any  such  letter  ;  and  when  I  sent  a  messenger  to  his 
house,  on  purpose  to  enquire  whether  I  had  any  letter  lodged  there 
for  me  firom  Scotland,  he  told  him  No  ;  when  I  suppose  this  letter 
had  been  long  in  his  house :  and  I  should  probably  never  have  had 
it  at  last,  had  not  one  of  my  daughters  had  occasion  to  go  toBoston, 
who  made  a  visit  at  the  house,  and  made  a  more  full  enquiry. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  your  affliction,  through  your  indisposition 
that  you  speak  of,  and  desire  to  be  thankful  to  the  God  of  all  mer- 
cy for  his  goodness,  in  restoring  you  again  to  health. 

"  I  have,  in  my  letter  to  Mr.  M'Laurm,  given  a  particular  ac- 
count of  what  I  know,  concerning  the  propagation  of  the  Concert 
for  United  Prayer,  in  America ;  which  you  will  doubtless  have  op- 


LIFE    OF    PllESlDENT    EDWARDS.  243 

portunity  to  see.  The  propagation  of  it  is  but  slow  ;  but  yet  so 
many  do  fall  in  witli  it,  and  there  is  that  prospect  of  its  being  fur- 
ther spread,  that  it  is  a  great  encouragement  to  me.  I  earnestly 
hope,  that  they,  that  have  begun  extraordinary  prayer  for  the  out- 
pouring of  the  Spirit  of  God,  "and  the  coming  of  Christ's  kingdom, 
will  not  fail,  or  grow  dull  and  lifeless  in  such  an  affair,  but  rather 
that  they  will  increase  more  and  more  in  their  fervency.  I  have 
taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  promote  tliis  Concert  here  in  Amer- 
ica, and  shall  not  cease  to  do  so,  if  God  spares  my  life,  as  I  have 
opportunity,  in  all  w^ays  that  I  can  devise.  I  have  written  largely 
on  the  subject,  insisting  on  persuasions,  and  answering  objections ; 
and  what  I  have  written  is  gone  to  the  press.  The  undertaker  for 
the  publication  encourages  me  that  it  shall  speedily  be  printed.  I 
have  sent  to  Mr.  M'Laurm  a  particular  account  of  it. 

"You  desire  to  hear  how  it  was  witli  the  people  of  New-Eng- 
land, when  w^e  were  threatened  with  an  invasion  by  the  French 
fleet,  the  last  summer.  As  to  the  particular  circumstances  of  that 
w^onderful  deliverance,  the  fullest  and  best  account  I  have  ever 
seen  of  it,  is  in  jMr.  Prince's  Thanksgiving  Sermon  on  that  occa- 
sion ;  which,  in  all  probability,  you  have  seen  long  before  this  time. 
Nor  need  you  be  informed  by  me,  of  the  repeated  mercy  of  God 
to  us,  in  confounding  our  eneixiies  in  their  renewed  attempt  this 
year,  by  delivering  up  their  fleet,  in  its  way  liither,  into  the  hands 
of  the  English.  In  all  probability,  that  fleet  was  intended  for  tlie 
execution  of  a  very  extensive  design,  against  the  English  colonies, 
in  conjunction  with  tlie  French  forces  in  Canada.  For  there  was 
an  army  lay  w^aiting  at  Nova  Scotia,  which,  on  the  news  of  the 
sailing  of  their  fleet,  immediately  left  the  country,  and  returned  to 
Canada,  over  tlie  lake  Champlain,  towards  New"-England  and 
New^-York ;  and  they,  or  a  part  of  them,  attacked  Fort  Saratoga, 
in  New-York  government,  and  killed  or  took  about  fifty  men  that 
were  drawii  out  of  the  Fort ;  but  desisted  from  any  further  at- 
tempts, about  the  time  we  may  suppose  they  received  the  news  of 
the  defeat  of  their  fleet.  And  very  soon  after  they  received  tliis 
news  in  Canada,  the  French  there  released  most  of  our  captives, 
and  sent  one  ship  loaded  \\ith  them,  to  the  number  of  about  one 
hundred  and  seventy,  to  Boston,  and  another  ship  with  about  sixty, 
if  I  remember  right,  to  Louisburg.  The  reasons,  that  induced 
them  so  to  do,  are  not  known,  and  can  only  be  guessed  at  by  us ; 
but,  by  their  doing  it  very  soon  after  they  received  the  new^s  of  the 
loss  of  their  fleet,  it  looks  as  though  that  had  great  influence  in  the 
afiair.  New-England  has  had  many  other  surprising  deliverances 
from  the  French  and  Indians ;  some  of  w^hich  I  have  given  a  par- 
ticular account  of,  in  my  letter  to  Mr.  M'Laurin  ;  which  it  would 
be  needless  for  me  to  repeat,  seeing  you  have  such  frequent  op- 
portunities w^th  him.  These  deliverances  are  very  wonderful  and 
aflecting ;  our  enemies  own  that  the  Heavens  are  on  our  side,  and 


244  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

fight  for  us ;  but  there  are  no  such  effects  of  these  mercies  upon 
us  that  are  the  subjects  of  them,  as  God  requires,  and  most  justly 
expects.     The  mercies  are  acknowledged  in  words,  but  we  are 
not  led  to  repentance  by  them ;  there  appears  no   such  thing  as 
any  reformation  or  Revival  of  religion  in  the  land.    God's  so  won- 
derfully protecting  and  delivering    a  people,  whose  provocations 
have  been  so  great,  and  who  do  so  continue  in  apostacy  and  provo- 
cation, is  very  marvellous  ;  and  I  can  think  of  no  account  that  can 
be  given  of  it,  so  probable  as  this,  that  God  has  a  design  of  mercy 
to  the  rising  generation,  and  that  there  are  a  great  number  of  the 
elect  among   our  children,  born  and  unborn,  and  that  for  these 
elect's  sake,  God  will  not  suffer  us  to  be  destroyed,  having  a  de- 
sign to  bring  forth  a  seed  of  the  posterity  of  this  people,  to  inherit 
and  dwell  in  tliis  land,  that  shall  be  an  holy  seed,  and  a  generation 
of  his  servants.     And  so  that  those  words  are  applicable  to  us,  Isa. 
Ixv.  8,  9,  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord,  as  the  new  wine  is  found  in  the 
cluster,  and  one  saith,  Destroy  it  not,  for  a  blessing  is  in  it ;  so  will 
I  do  for  my  servants^  sakes,  that  I  may  not  destroy  them  all.    And 
I  will  bring  forth  a  seed  out  of  Jacob,  and  out  of  Judah  an  inher- 
itor of  my  mountains  :  and  mine  elect  shall  inherit  it,  and  my  ser- 
vants shall  dwell  there.''''     I  am  full  of  apprehensions,  that  God  has 
no  design  of  mercy  to  those  that  were  left  unconverted,  of  the  gen- 
eradon  that  v\-ere  on  the  stage,  in  the  time  of  the  late  extraordinary 
religious  commotion,  and  striving  of  God's  Spirit ;  unless  it  be  per- 
haps a  small  gleaning  from  among  them.     But  it  may  be,  when 
their  little  ones,  the  generation  that  was  then  in  their  childhood,  are 
brought  fully  on  the  stage  of  action,  God  will  abundantly  pour  out 
his  Spirit,  and  revive  and  carry  on  his  work,  here  and  elsewhere  in 
the  christian  world.* 

"  I  thank  you  for  taking  the  pains  of  vmting  tome  your  thoughts 
of  the  forty-two  months  of  the  treading  do^m  of  the  holy  City, 
which  are  new  and  entertaining.  The  chief  objection  against  what 
you  propose,  that  I  can  thinly  of,  is,  that  the  forty-two  months  of  tlie 
treading  do\Mi  the  holy  Cit}^,  seems  to  be  the  same  period  with  the 
one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty  days  of  the  Witnesses  prophesy- 
mgin  sackcloth,  mentioned  in  the  very  next  verse,  in  immediate  con- 
nection with  tliis ;  and  that,  the  same  with  the  one  thousand  t^vo 
hundred  and  sixty  days  of  the  Woman's  being  in  the  wilderness. 
Chap.  xii.  6 ;  and  that,  the  same  with  the  time,  times  and  an  half 
of  the  Woman's  being  in  the  wilderness,  v.  14  ;  and  diat  the  same 
with  the  time,  times  and  an  half  of  the  reign  of  the  Little  horn,  Dan. 
vii.  25  :  and  wiih  the  forty-two  months  of  the  reign  of  the  Beast, 
Rev.  xiii.  5  ;  and  that  this  e\idently  signifies  the  duration  of  tke 
reign  of  Antichrist ;  which  is  a  thing  entirely  diverse  from  the  sum 
of  the  times  of  the  City  of  Jerusalem's  being  under  the  dominion 
of  Pagans,  Saracens,  Persians  and  Turks,  as  you  represent.  How- 


'It  was  postponed  to  the  time  of  the  children  of  the  generation  here  referred  to. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  i45 

ever,  It  is  possible  that  what  you  mention  may  be  one  way  wherein 
that  prophecy,  Rev.  xi.  2,  may  be  fulfilled.  For  God's  word  is 
often  times  fulfilled  in  various  w^ays :  as  one  way,  wherein  the  pro- 
phetical representation  of  the  Beast  v*-ith  the  seven  heads  is  fulfil- 
led, is  in  the  seven  successive  forms  of  government,  that  idolatrous 
Rome  is  under ;  and  another  w-ay,  that  it  vras  fulfilled,  was  by 
Rome's  being  built  on  seven  hills.  One  way,  that  the  seventy  years 
captivity  of  the  Jews  was  fulfilled,  was  in  its  being  seventy  years 
from  Jehoichim's  captivhy,  to  Cyrus's  decree  :  and  another  way, 
that  it  was  fulfilled,  was  in  its  being  seventy  years  from  Zedekiah's 
captivity  to  Darius's  decree,  Ezra  6  ;  and  another  way,  that  it  v;as 
fulfilled,  was  in  its  being  seventy  years  from  the  last  carrying  aw'ay 
of  all,  Jer.  Hi.  30,  to  the  finishing  and  dedication  of  the  Temple. 
But  I  expect  no  certainty  as  to  these  things,  or  any  of  the  various 
conjectures  concerning  the  time  of  the  calling  of  the  Jews,  and  the  fall 
of  the  kingdom  of  the  Beast,  till  time  and  fulfilment  shall  decide  the 
matter.  However,  I  cannot  think  otherwise,  than  that  w^e  have  a 
great  deal  of  reason  to  suppose,  that  the  beginning  of  that  glorious 
work  of  God's  Spirit,  which,  before  it  is  finished,  shall  accomphsh 
these  tilings,  is  not  very  far  off;  and  there  is  very  much  in  the  word 
of  God,  and  in  the  present  aspects  of  divine  Providence,  to  encour- 
age us  greatly  in  our  begun  Concert  for  Extraordinary  United  Prayer 
for  the  coming  of  Christ's  Kangdom.  Let  us  therefore  go  on  with 
what  we  have  begun  in  that  respect,  and  continue  instant  in  prayer, 
with  all  perseverance,  and  increase  more  and  more  in  faith  and  fer- 
vency, and  not  keep  silence,  nor  give  God  any  rest,  till  he  establish, 
and  make  Jerusalem  a  praise  in  the  eardi. 

"  And  remember  in  your  prayers,  dear  Sir, 

"  Yours,  in  great  esteem  and  affection, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  continuation  of  tliis  Concert  for  united  and  extraordinary 
prayer  was  proposed,  in  a  INIemorial  from  Scotland,  dated  August 
26,  1746,  signed  by  twelve  clergyman  of  that  country,  and  circula- 
ted soon  after  in  all  the  American  colonies.  To  secure  the  gene- 
ral adoption  of  the  proposed  measure,  Mr.  Edwards  first  preached 
to  his  people  a  series  of  Sermons  in  its  favour,  and  then  published 
them  in  the  form  of  a  Treatise,  with  the  Title,  "  An  humble  At- 
tempt to  promote  Explicit  Agreement  and  Visible  Union  among 
God's  People,  in  Extraordinary  Prayer  for  the  Revival  of  Religion, 
and  the  Advancement  of  Christ's  Kingdom  on  Earth,  pursuant  to 
Scripture  Promises,  and  Prophecies  concerning  the  Last  Time." 
Tliis  work  w^as  immediately  republished  in  England  and  Scotland, 
and  extensively  circulated  in  both  countries,  as  well  as  in  America, 
and  had  great  influence  in  securing  the  general  adoption  of  the 
measures  proposed — a  measure,  which  w^as  pursued  for  more  than 
half  a  century  by  many  of  the  American  churches,  and  only  dis- 
continued on  the  adoption  of  a  more  frequent  Concert — the  Monthly 


246  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Concert — for  United  and  Extraordinary  Prayer,  for  the  same  great 
object,  proposed  at  an  Association  of  the  ministers  of  the  Baptist 
Churches,  in  the  counties  of  Northampton,  Leicester,  etc.  held  at 
Nottingham,  in  1784,  and  observed  the  first  Monday  evening  of  each 
mondi;  and  now  extensively  adopted  throughout  die  christian  w^orld. 
In  the  course  of  this  Treatise,  Mr.  Edwards  was  led,  in  answer- 
ing objections,  to  examine  an  Interpretation  of  Prophecy,  until  then 
most  generally  if  not  universally  received  :  viz.  That  the  kingdom 
of  Christ  could  not  come,  until  there  had  previously  been  a  time 
of  most  extreme  calamity  to  the  Church  of  God,  and  prevalence  of 
her  Antichristian  enemies  against  her,  as  represented  in  Rev.  xi. 
by  the  Slaying  of  the  Witnesses.  Some  years  before  this,  Mr. 
Edwards  had  examined  the  Apocalypse  with  great  care,  in  con- 
nexion with  the  Prophecy  of  Daniel;  in  order  to  sarisfy  himself 
\vhether  the  slaying  of  the  witnesses  was  to  be  regarded  as  past, 
or  future.  This  he  did  with  liis  pen  in  his  hand ;  and  a  brief  ab- 
stract of  his  view^s  on  this  point,  is  found  in  the  answers  to  the  4di 
and  5th  objections  in  the  Humble  Attempt.  The  views  of  prophecy, 
here  presented  by  Mr.  Edwards,  were,  I  believe,  at  die  time  wholly 
new  to  the  christian  world,  and  were  at  first  regarded  by  many  as 
doubtful,  if  not  erroneous;  but  have  since  produced  the  general 
convicdon,  that  the  dow^nfall  of  Popery  and  the  uldmate  extension 
of  the  kingdom  of  Christ,  are  far  less  distant  than  has  been  sup- 
posed— a  conviction  remarkably  supported  by  the  whole  series  of 
Providential  dispensations.  And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  this 
conviction  has  been  a  prime  cause,  of  the  present  concen- 
trated movement  of  the  whole  Church  of  God,  to  hasten  forward 
the  Reign  of  the  Messiah.  As  long  as  it  was  the  commonly  received 
opinion  of  christians,  that  the  Church  was  yet  destined  to  experience 
far  more  severe  and  overwhehiiing  calamines,  than  any  she  had  hitherto 
known — calamities  amounting  to  an  almost  total  extinction — before 
the  dme  of  her  final  prosperity ;  the  efforts  and  the  prayers  of  chris- 
tians for  the  arrival  of  that  period  of  prosperity  were  chiefly  preven- 
ted: inasmuch  as  it  was,  in  effect,  to  labour  and  pray  for  the  almost 
total  extinction  of  the  Church  of  Christ,  during  a  period  of  indefi- 
nite extent,  as  well  as  to  labour  and  pray,  if  speedy  success  should 
crown  their  efforts,  for  the  destruction,  if  not  of  their  own  lives,  yet 
of  those  of  their  children  and  immediate  descendents.  In  die  sec- 
tions referred  to,  he  endeavours  to  show",  and  by  arguments  which 
are  yet  unanswered,  that  the  severest  trials  announced  in  prophecy 
against  the  Church  of  God  were  already  past,  that  her  warfare  was 
even  then  almost  accomplished,  and  that  the  day  of  her  redemption 
was  drawing  nigh.  By  establishing  this  point;  and  by  presenting 
the  arguments  in  a  manner  so  clear  and  convincing,  as  wholly  to 
supersede  the  necessity  of  any  subsequent  treatise  on  the  subject ; 
the  work  in  question,  through  the  divine  blessing,  has  exerted  an 
influence,  singularly  powerful,  in  rousing  the  Church  of  Christ  to 
that  series  of  efforts,  which  is  to  result  in  her  final  victory. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

Arrival  of  David  Brainerd  at  JVorthampton. — His  sickness  and 
death  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Edwrads. — His  papers. — Death  of 
Jerusha,  the  second  daughter  of  Mr,  E. — Her  character. —  Cor- 
respondence of  Mr.  E.  with  Rev.  John  ErsJcine. — Abstract  of 
Mr.  E.^s  first  Letter  to  Mr.  ErsJcine. — Plan  conceived  of  the 
Freedom  of  the  Will. — Death  of  Col.  Stoddard. — Kindness  of 
Mr.  Erskine. — Letter  of  Mr.  E.  to  him. — Second  Letter  from 
Mr.  Gillespie. — Letter  to  Mr.  M  Culloch. — Letter  to  Mr.  Ers- 
kine.— Letter  from  Mr.  Willison. — Life  and  Diary  of  Brain- 
erd.— Letters  to  Messers.  Erskine,  M  Cidloch,  and  Robe. — 
Ordination  of  Rev.  Job  Stj^ong. — Anecdote  of  Rev.  Mr.  Moody. 
— Letter  of  Mr.  E.  to  his  daughter  Mary. — Second  Letter  to 
Mr.  Gillespie. 

The  reader  will  recollect,  that  while  Mr.  Edwards  was  at  New- 
Haven,  in  September  1743,  he  formed  an  acquaintance  with  David 
Brainerd,  then  a  missionary  to  the  Indians  at  Kmmaumeek,'^  and 
became  his  counsellour  at  a  most  interesting  period  of  his  life.  In 
March  1747,  Brainerd,  in  consequence  of  extreme  ill  health,  took 
leave  of  liis  Indians   in  New^-Jersey,  and  in  April  came  into  New 


*  Kaunaumcek,  was  an  Indian  settlement,  about  five  miles  N.  W.  from 
New  Lebanon,  on  the  main  road  fromthat  villag-e  to  Albany.  The  place  is 
now  called  Bt^ainerd's  Bridge,  and  is  a  village  of  a  few  houses,  on  the  Ka- 
yaderosseras  Creek,  where  that  road  crosses  it.  It  was  thus  named,  not 
after  the  Missionary,  but  after  a  relative  of  his  of  the  name  of  Brainerd, 
who  some  years  since  planted  himself  in  this  spot,  and  built  the  bridge 
across  the  Creek,  now  a  toll  bridge.  The  mountain,  about  a  mile  N.  W. 
of  the  bridge,  still  bears  the  name  of  Kaunaumeek.  The  Creek  winds  beau- 
tifully in  the  valley  beneath,  and  forms  a  dehghtful  meadow.  In  1823,  I 
found  an  aged  negro  on  the  spot,  about  one  hundred  years  of  age,  who  had 
passed  his  life  in  the  vicinity.  He  was  about  twenty-one  years  old,  when 
Brainerd  resided  at  Kaunaumeek,  but  never  saw  him.  He  told  me  that 
the  house,  which  Brainerd  built  here,  stood  on  the  first  little  knowl,  or  hil- 
lock on  the  left  of  the  road,  and  on  the  W.  or  N.  W.  side  of  the  Creek, 
immediately  after  passing  the  bridge  ;  and,  that  the  Indian  settlement 
was  down  in  the  meadow,  at  some  distance  below  the  bridge.  On  follow- 
ing the  stream,  I  discovered  an  old  Indian  orchard,  the  trees  of  an  Indian 
burying  giound,  and  the  ruins  of  several  buildings  of  long  standing.  He 
also  informed  me,  that  the  Indians  had  often  told  him,  that  Mr.  Brainerd 
was  "  a  very  holy  man,"  and  that  he  resided  at  Kaunaumeek  but  a  siiort 
time. 


248  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EliWARDS. 

England;  when  he  was  invited  by  Mr.  Edwards  to  take,  up  his 
abode  in  his  o\mi  house.  He  came  there  on  the  28th  of  May,  appa- 
rently very  much  improved  in  health,  cheerfid  in  his  spirits,  and  free 
from  melancholy,  yet  at  that  time  probably  in  a  confirmed  consump- 
tion. Mr.  Edwards  had  now  an  opportunity  of  becoming  most  in- 
timately acquainted  v.ith  him,  and  regarded  his  residence  under  his 
roof,  as  a  peculiar  blessing  to  himself  and  his  family.  "  We  enjoy- 
ed," he  observes,  "  not  only  the  benefit  of  his  conversation,  but  had 
the  comfort  and  advantage  of  ha^dng  him  pray  in  the  family  from 
time  to  time."  He  was  at  this  time  very  feeble  in  health  ; 
but  in  consequence  of  the  advice  of  his  physician,  he  left  North- 
ampton for  Boston,  on  the  9th  of  June,  in  company  with  die  second 
daughter  of  Mr.  Edwards.  They  arrived  on  the  evening  of  the 
12th,  among  the  family  relatives  of  Mr.  Edwards  in  Boston,  and  for 
a  few  days  the  health  of  Brainerd  appeared  much  amended ;  but 
a  relapse  on  the  18th,  convinced  his  friends  that  his  recovery  was 
hopeless.  Contrary  to  their  expectations  however,  he  so  far 
revived,  that  on  the  20th  of  July  they  were  able  to  leave  Boston,  in 
company  ^\^th  his  brother,  iNIr.  Israel  Brainerd,  and  on  the  25th 
they  reached  Northampton.  Here  his  heahh  continued  gradually 
to  declme,  until  early  in  October  it  was  ob\ious  that  he  would  not 
long  survive.  "On  the  morning  of  Lord's  day,  Oct.  4,"  says  Mr. 
Edwards,  "  as  my  daughter  Jerusha,  who  chiefly  attended  him, 
came  into  the  room,  he  looked  on  her  very  pleasantly,  and  said, 
"  Dear  Jerusha,  are  you  \^illing  to  part  ^^ith  me  ? — I  am  quite  wil- 
ling to  part  with  you :  I  am  willing  to  part  with  all  my  friends : 
though  if  I  thought  I  should  not  see  you  and  be  happy  \\"ith  you  in 
another  world,  I  could  not  bear  to  part  with  you.  But  we  shall  spend 
a  happy  eternity  together."  He  died  on  Friday,  Oct.  9,  1749, 
and  on  the  Monday  following,  Mr.  Edwards  preached  the  Sermon 
at  his  Funeral,  from  2  Cor.  v.  8,  entitled,  "  True  Saints  when  ab- 
sent from  the  body  are  present  with  the  Lord ;"  which  was  publish- 
ed in  the  December  follo\\ing. 

Brainerd,  after  destroying  the  early  part  of  his  Diary,  left  the 
residue  in  the  hands  of  ^Ir.  Edwards,  to  dispose  of  as  he  tliought 
best.  Mr.  Edwards  concluded  to  publish  it,  in  connexion  \^■ith  a 
brief  Memok  of  his  life. 

In  the  ensuing  February,  Jerusha,  the  second  daughter  of  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Edwards,  was  removed  by  death.  Her  father,  in  a  Note 
to  the  iMemoirs  of  Brainerd,  thus  alludes  to  this  distressing  event. 
"  Since  tliis,  it  has  pleased  a  holy  and  sovereign  God,  to  take  away 
this  my  dear  child  by  death,  on  the  14tli  of  February,  next  follow- 
ing, after  a  short  illness  of  five  days,  m  the  18th  year  of  her  age. 
She  was  a  person  of  much  the  same  spirit  with  Brainerd.  She  had 
constantly  taken  care  of,  and  attended  him  in  his  sickness,  for  nine- 
teen weeks  before  his  death  ;  devoting  herself  to  it  with  great  de- 
light, because  she  looked  on  liim   as  an  eminent  servant  of  Jesus 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  249 

Christ.  In  this  time,  he  had  mucli  conversation  with  lier  on  the 
things  of  religion  ;  and,  in  his  dying  state,  often  expressed  to  us,  her 
parents,  his  great  satisfaction  concerning  her  true  piety,  and  liis 
confidence  that  he  should  meet  her  in  heaven,  and  his  high  opinion 
of  her  not  only  as  a  real  christian,  but  as  a  very  eminent  saint :  one 
whose  soul  was  uncommonly  fed  and  entertained  with  things  which 
pertain  to  the  most  spiritual,  experimental  and  distinguishing  parts 
of  religion :  and  one,  who,  by  the  temper  of  her  mind,  was  titted 
to  deny  herself  for  God,  and  to  do  good,  beyond  any  young  woman 
whatsoever  w^hom  he  knew.  She  had  manifested  a  heart  uncom- 
monly devoted  to  God  in  the  course  of  her  life,  many  years  before 
her  death  ;  and  said  on  her  death-bed,  that  she  had  not  seen  one 
minute,  for  several  years,  wherein  she  desired  to  live  one  minute 
longer,  for  the  sake  of  any  other  good  in  life,  hut  doing  good,  liv- 
ing to  God,  and  doing  what  might  he  for  his  glory. '''' 

In  the  course  of  the  year  1747,  an  epistolary  correspondence 
was  commenced  between  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  Rev.  John  Ers- 
kine  of  Ku'kintilloch,  afterwards  the  Rev.  Dr.  Erskine  of  Edin- 
burgh, which  v/as  continued  to  the  close  of  Mr.  Edwards'  life. 
This  gentleman,  possessing  superior  talents,  and  having  every  ad- 
vantage of  birth,  fortune  and  education,  made  choice  of  the  clerical 
profession,  in  opposition  to  the  prevailing  wishes  of  his  family  ;  and, 
in  May  1744,  took  charge  of  the  parish  of  Kirkintilloch  near  Glas- 
gow. In  1753,  he  was  translated  to  a  parish  in  the  borough  of 
Culross,  and,  in  the  autumn  of  1758,  to  one  of  the  parishes  in  Ed- 
inburgh. Distinguished  alike  for  liis  learning  and  piety,  for  his 
honourable  and  munificent  spirit  and  for  his  firm  attachment  to 
evangelical  religion,  he  adorned  every  station  which  he  filled  by  a 
faithful  and  conscientious  discharge  of  its  various  duties — private, 
social  and  public  ; — enjoyed  the  high  respect  of  the  wise  and 
good,  not  only  in  Great  Britain,  but  extensively  in  both  continents ; 
and  died  in  1803  in  his  82d  year,  having  been  the  correspondent, 
successively,  of  President  Edwards,  of  his  Son  Dr.  Edwards,  Pre- 
sident of  Union  College,  and  of  his  grand-son  President  Dwight, 
for  the  period  of  fifty-six  years. 

Mr.  Erskine  began  the  correspondence  wdth  Mr.  Edwards  early 
in  1747,  through  the  intervention  of  Mr.  M'Laurin  of  Glasgow,  by 
sending  him  the  "  Remains  of  Mr.  Hall" — a  memoir,  written  by 
himself,  of  a  most  respectable  and  beloved  fellow-student  in  Theo- 
logy, a  young  gentleman  of  uncommon  promise.  I  have  none  of 
the  letters  of  Mr.  Erskine  to  Mr.  Edwards,  and  not  having  been 
able  to  procure  the  first  letter  of  Mr.  Edwards  to  Mr.  Erskine,  writ- 
ten in  the  summer  of  1747,  must  be  indebted,  for  the  following 
account  of  it,  to  the  "  Life  of  Dr.  Erskine,"  by  the  Hon.  and  Rev. 
Sir  H.  M.  Wallwood — "  On  this  occasion,  Mr.  Edwards  expressed, 
with  great  tenderness  and  delicacy,  his  sympathy  with  one,  who  had 
lost  his  most  intimate  and  estimable  friend  in  the  prime  of  life,  the 

Vol.  T.  32 


250  LIFE    OF    FKESIDElVT    EDWARLtSy 

fompaiiion  of  his  yoiitli,  nnd,  for  a  considerable  time  before  his 
death,  the  delightful  and  affectionate  associate  of  his  studies  and  of 
his  viety, 

"  In  a  postscript  to  this  letter,  he  menticP-ed  his  book  on  Religious 
Affections,  then  just  published,  and  at  the  same  time  sent  his  cor- 
respondent a  copy  of  it  in  a  book  of  wliich  it  is  not  too  much  to  say^ 
that  it  is  not  only  worthy  of  the  talents  and  sincerity  of  its  author  ^ 
but  that  while  it  shows,  that  he  was  neither  forward  nor  rash,  in  es- 
timating striking  or  sudden  impressions  of  religion,  it  contains  more 
sound  instruction  on  its  particular  subject,  and  lays  down  more  in- 
telligible and  definite  rules  to  distinguish  true  from  false  religion, 
and  to  ascertain  by  distinct  cliaracters,  the  genume  spirit  of  vital 
piety,  separated  from  all  fanatical  delusions,  than  any  other  book 
which  has  yet  been  given  to  the  world. 

"  In  the  same  postscript  to  Mr.  Edvv^ards'  first  letter  to  Dr.  Ers- 
kine,  he  gave  him  a  general  sketch  of  a  plan  v/hich  he  had  then 
fonned,  and  which  he  afterwards  executed,  with  so  much  ability,  in 
his  book  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will; — a  book  which,  whether  his 
opinions  be  questioned  or  adopted,  has  certainly  given  him  an  emi- 
nent station  both  among  philosophers  and  divines.  "  I  have  thought,'^ 
he  says,  "  of  ^mting  sometliing  particularly  and  largely  on  the  Ai- 
minian  controversy,  in  distinct  discourses  on  the  various  points  in 
dispute,  to  be  published  successively,  beginning  first  with  a  dis- 
course concerning  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  and  Moral  Agency ; 
endeavouring  fully  and  thoroughly  to  state  and  discuss  those  points 
of  Liberty  and  Necessity,  IMoral  and  Physical  Inability,  Efficacious 
Grace,  and  the  ground  of  virtue  and  vice,  reward  and  punishment, 
blame  and  praise,  with  reg  ird  to  the  dispositions  and  actions  of  rea- 
sonable creatures." 

"  Such  was  the  fiist  idea  of  a  work,  from  which  J\h\  Edwards  af- 
terwards derived  his  chief  celebrity  as  an  author ;  but  a  considera- 
ble time  intervened,  before  he  found  it  possible  to  make  any  pro- 
gress in  his  design." 

The  death  of  Col.  Stoddard,  which  occurred  at  Boston,  on 
the  19th  of  June,  tlris  year,  was  a  loss  severely  felt,  not  only  by 
Mr.  Edv/ards  and  the  people  of  Northampton,  but  by  the  County 
and  the  Province  at  large.  He  was  eminently  distinguished  for  his 
strength  of  understanding  and  energy  of  cliaracter,  and  had  for  a 
long  period,  unrivalled  influence  in  the  council  of  the  Province. 
He  was  also  a  m.an  of  decided  piety,  rmd  a  uniform  Iriend  and  su}> 
porter  of  sound  morals  and  evangelical  religion.  Mr.  Edwards 
preached  a  Sermon  on  his  death  from  Ezek.  xix.  12  ;  which  was 
immediately  published." 

Early  in  the  next  year  IMr.  Edwards  received  from  Mr.  Erskine 
a  number  of  books,  vdiich  he  valued  very  highly,  as  containing  the 
ablest  exhibition  and  defence  of  the  system  of  doctrines  usually  sty- 
led Arminianiism,,  which  had  at  that  time  appeared  before  tlie  pub- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARBS.  251 

lie.  In  the  foliowing  letter  he  acknowledges  the  kindness  of  his 
correspondent,  and  at  the  same  time  alludes  to  the  decease  of  his 
daughter. 

"  To  the  Rev.  John  Erskine. 

''  JVorthampton,  Aug.  31,  1748. 

*'  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

*'I  this  summer  received  your  kind  letter  of  Feb.  9,  1748,  with 
your  most  acceptable  present  of  Taylor  on  Original  Sin,  and  his 
Key  to  the  Apostolic  Writings,  with  his  Paraphrase  on  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  ;  together  with  your  Sermons  and  Answer  to  Doct. 
Campbell.  I  had  your  Sermons  before,  sent  either  by  you  or  Mr. 
M'Laurin.  I  am  exceedingly  glad  of  those  two  books  of  Taylor's, 
I  had  before  borrowed  and  read  Taylor  on  Original  Sin ;  but  am 
very  glad  to  have  one  of  my  own ;  if  you  had  not  sent  it,  I  intend- 
ed to  have  sought  opportunity  to  buy  it.  The  other  book,  his  Par* 
aphrase,  etc.  I  had  not  heard  of;  if  I  had,  I  should  not  have  been 
€asy  till  I  had  seen  it,  and  been  possessed  of  it.  These  books,  if  I 
should  live,  may  probably  be  of  great  use  to  me.  Such  kindness 
from  you  was  unexpected.  I  hoped  to  receive  a  letter  from  you, 
which,  alone,  I  should  have  received  as  a  special  favour. 

"  I  have  for  the  present,  been  diverted  from  the  design  I  hinted 
to  you,  of  puhlishing  something  against  some  of  the  Arminian  Te- 
nets,  by  something  else  that  Divine  Providence  unexpectedly  laid 
in  my  way,  and  seemed  to  render  unavoidable,  viz.  publishing  Mr. 
Brainerd's  Life,  of  vvhich  the  inclosed  paper  of  proposals  gives 
some  account. 

"  It  might  be  of  particular  advantage  to  me,  here  in  this  remote 
part  of  the  world,  to  be  better  informed  what  books  tliere  are,  that 
are  published  on  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic ;  and  especially  if 
there  be  any  thing  that  comes  out,  that  is  very  remarkable.  I  have 
seen  many  notable  things,  that  have  been  written  in  this  country 
against  the  truth,  but  nothing  very  notable  on  our  side  of  the  con- 
troversies of  the  present  day,  at  least  of  the  Ai-miniim  controversy. 
You  would  much  oblige  me,  if  you  would  inform  me  what  are  the 
best  books  that  have  lately  been  written,  in  defence  of  Cahinism. 

"  I  have  herewith  sent  the  two  books  of  I\Ir.  Stoddard's  you  de- 
sired. The  lesser  of  the  two  was  my  own  ;  and  though  I  have  no 
other,  yet  you  have  laid  me  under  such  obligations,  that  I  am  glad  I 
have  it  to  send  to  you.  The  other  I  procured  of  one  of  my  neigh- 
bours. 

"  I  have  lately  heard  some  things,  that  have  excited  hope  in  me, 
that  God  w^as  about  to  cause  there  to  be  a  turn  in  England,  v.ith 
regard  to  the  state  of  religion  there,  for  the  better ;  particularly 
what  we  have  heard,  that  one  Mr.  West,  a  Clerk  of  tii3  Privy  Coun- 


252  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDb. 

cil,  has  written  in  defence  of  cliristianity,  though  once  a  notorious' 
Deist ;  and  also  what  Mr.  Littleton,  a  member  of  the  House  of 
Commons,  has  written.  I  should  be  glad  if  you  would  inform  me 
more  particularly  in  your  next,  concerning  this  affair,  and  what  the 
present  state  of  Infidelity  in  Great  Britain  is. 

"  It  has  pleased  God,  since  1  wrote  my  last  to  you,  sorely  to  af- 
flict this  family,  by  taking  away  by  death,  the  last  February,  my 
second  daughter,  in  the  eighteenth  year  of  her  age ;  a  very  pleas- 
ant and  useful  member  of  this  family,  and  one  that  was  esteemed 
the  flower  of  the  family.  Herein  we  have  a  great  loss  ;  but  the  re- 
membrance of  the  remarkable  appearances  of  piety  in  her,  from 
her  childhood,  in  life,  and  also  at  her  deadi,  are  v^ery  comfortable 
tons,  and  give  us  great  reason  to  mingle  thanksgi\dng  with  our 
mourning.  I  desire  your  prayers,  dear  Sir,  that  God  would  make 
up  our  great  loss  to  us  in  himself. 

"  Please  to  accept  of  one  of  my  Sermons  on  Mr.  Brainerd'a 
death,  and  also  one  of  my  Sermons  on  Mr.  Buell's  instalment.  I 
desire  that  for  the  future,  your  letters  to  me  ma\^  be  directed  to  be 
left  with  Mr.  Edward  Bromfield,  merchant  in  Boston.  My  wife 
joins  with  me,  in  respectful  and  affectionate  salutations  to  you  and 
Mrs.  Erskine.  Desiring  that  we  may  meet  often  at  the  throne  of 
grace,  in  supplications  for  each  other, 

"  I  am,  dear  brother,  your  obliged  friend, 
"  Fellow  labourer  and  humble  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards. 

"  P.  S.  I  desired  Mr.  Prince  to  send  to  you  one  of  my  books 
on  the  subject  of  the  Concert  for  Prayer  for  a  general  Revival  of 
religion,  the  last  year  ;  and  he  engaged  to  do' it ;  but  I  perceive  he 
forgot  it,  and  it  was  long  neglected.  But  I  have  since  taken  some 
further  care  to  have  the  book  conveyed ;  so  that  I  hope  that  ere 
this  time  you  have  received  it. 

"In  the  conclusion  of  your  letter  of  Feb.  9,  you  mention  a  de- 
sign of  writing  to  me  again,  by  a  ship  that  was  to  sail  the  next 
month  for  Boston.     That  letter  I  have  not  received." 

Mr.  Gillespie,  imagining  that  the  difficulties,  wiiich  he  had  stated 
in  his  former  letter,  were  not  satisfactorily  cleared  up  in  the  answer 
of  Mr.  Edwards,  addressed  to  him  the  following  reply. 

Letter  from  Vxr,  Gillespie. 

"  SejJt,   19,  174S. 
"  Rev.  and  very  dear  Sir, 

"  1  had  the  favour  of  yours  in  spring  last,  for  which  I  heartily 
thank  you.  I  did  not  want  inclination  to  make  you  a  return  long 
ago,  as  I  prize  your  correspondence,  but  some  things  concurred  that 
effectually  prevented  me,  which  has  given  me  concern. 

"  It  w^as  my  desire  to  be  inlormed,  and  my  inclination  to  make  you 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  25^ 

understand  how  some  passages  in  your  book  on  Religious  Affec- 
tions did  appear  to  me  and  some  others,  your  real  friends  and  well- 
wisiiers  in  this  country,  that  determined  me  to  presume  to  offer  you 
some  few  remarks  on  the  passages  mentioned  in  my  former  letter  ; 
and  desire  of  further  information,  engages  me  now,  with  all  respect, 
to  make  some  observations  upon  some  tilings  in  your  letter.  I  hope 
you  mil  pardon  my  freedom,  and  bear  uith  me  in  it,  and  set  me  right 
wherein  you  may  find  me  to  misapprehend  your  meaning,  or  to 
mistake  in  any  other  respect. 

"  You  say,  "  You  conceive  that  there  is  a  great  difference  be- 
tween these  two  things,  ^^z.  its  being  a  man's  duty,  who  is  without 
*  spiritual  light  or  sight,  to  believe  ;  and  its  being  his  duty  to  believe 
without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  or  to  believe  while  he  yet  remains 
without  spiritual  light  or  sight :  it  is  not  proper  to  say,  it  is  a  man's 
duty  to  believe  without  faith,"  etc.  Now,  dear  Sir,  the  difference 
here,  I  am  not  able  to  conceive ;  for  all  are  bound  to  believe  die 
divine  testimony  and  to  trust  in  Christ,  which  you  acknowledge ; 
and  the  want  of  spiritual  light  or  sight  does  not  loose  from  the  obli- 
gation one  is  laid  under  by  the  divine  command  to  believe  instantly 
on  Christ,  and  at  all  seasons,  as  liis  circumstances  shall  require, 
nor  does  it  excuse  him  in  any  degree  for  not  believing.  I  own 
that  a  person  wdio  has  no  spn*itual  light  or  sight  cannot  eventu- 
ally believe,  if  by  light  or  sight  is  meant  the  hifluence  or  grace  of 
the  Spirit,  by  which  one's  mind  is  irradiated  to  take  up  the  object 
and  grounds  of  faith,  so  as  to  be  made  to  have  a  spiritual  sight  of 
Christ,  and  to  act  that  grace  ;  yet  still,  even  when  one  wants  tliis,  it 
is  his  duty,  and  he  is  bound  to  believe,  for  we  know  it  is  a  maxim, 
"  ability  is  not  the  rule  of  duty.' ^  I  also  acknowdedge,  that  no  per- 
son who  is,  and  always  has  been,  without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  is 
bound,  nor  is  it  his  duty  to  believe,  that  he  has  actually  believed,  or 
to  conclude  he  is  really  a  partaker  of  the  faith  of  God's  elect.  1 
have  some  apprehension  this  is  all  you  meant  by  the  expressions  I 
have  noticed,  and  the  reasoning  in  consequence  of  them  ;  or  else 
certainly  different  ideas  are  affixed  to  words  with  you  and  among 
us.  There  is  indeed  a  great  deal  of  difference  betwixt  its  bemg 
one's  duty  to  believe,  or  to  act  faith,  and  its  being  his  duty  to  be- 
lieve he  has  believed,  or  has  acted  divine  faith,  i.  e.  you  say  you 
apply  the  particle  without,  respecting  spiritual  light  or  sight,  to  the 
act  of  believing,  by  which  I  suppose  you  intend,  "  all  sAo?//^/ believe, 
though  none  c/o  really  believe,  W^Aoi^^  spiritual  light  or  sight;"  in  wiiich 
I  entirely  agree  with  you.  The  w^ord  duty  indeed,  which  you  use 
w^hen  treating  that  matter,  is  ordinarily  supposed  to  signify  the  obliga- 
tion the  person  is  under  by  tlie  divine  authority  to  believe,  as  applied 
to  the  matter  of  faith,  and  not  to  the  act  of  faith  put  forth  in  conse- 
quence of  such  obli2;ation.  Had  I  not  supposed  you  plainly  meant 
by  the  expressions  I  quoted  from  the  book,  the  duty  or  obligation 
to  believe,  and  not  an  act  of  faith  exerted,  I  should  have  made  no 


254  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

remarks  on  them.     It  is  indeed  as  absurd  tor  one  to  conclude  he 
has  really  believed  without  spiritual  light  or   sight,   as  to  say  one 
should  believe  he  had  believed,  \vithout  those  things  that  are  essen- 
tially implied  in  faith.     But  I  mustdiifer  from  you  in  tliinking  it  is 
not  very  proper  to  say,  it  is  a  man's  duty  to  believe  without  faith,  i.  e. 
while  he  yet  remains  without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  or  to  put  fordi 
an  act  of  faith  on  the  Saviour,  however  void  of  spirimal  light  or  sight; 
for  if  this  was  not  the  truth,  the  finally  impenitent  sinner  could  not 
be  condemned  for  unbelief,  as  the  Holy  Ghost  declares  he  will  be, 
John  iii.   19,  20,  24,  and  that  notwithstandmg  the  power  of  the 
Spirit  of  faith  must  make  him  believe.     I  should  be  glad  to  know 
the  precise  idea  you  affix  to  the  words /a?VA  and  believing.     I  do 
not  remember  a  person's  reflecting  on  his  act  of  faith,  any  where  in 
Scripture  termed  belicAang.    You  remark,  "  That  I  seem  to  suppose 
that  a  person's  doubting  of  his  good  estate  is  the  proper  opposite  of 
faith,"  and  I  own,   as  it  is  a  behever's  duty  to  expect  salvation 
through  Christ,  which,  in  other  words,  is  to  believe  his  good  estate, 
Acts  XV.  11,  Gal.  ii.  20,  Eph.  ii.  4,  Job  xix.  25,  doubting  of  it  must 
be  his  sin,  an  effect  of  unbelief,  a  part  of  it,  and  thus  the  proper  oppo- 
site of  faith,  considered  in  its  full  compass  and  latitude.     Thus  once 
doubting  of  his  good  estate  by  a  true  believer,  and  unbelief  in  one 
branch  of  it,  or  one   part  and  manner  of  its  acting,  are  the  same 
thing.      Faitii  and  unbelief  are  opposed  in  Scripture,  and  what  is 
the  opposite  of  one  ingredient  in  unbelief  must  be  faith  in  one  part  of 
it, — one  thing  that  belongs  to  its  exercise.     A  person's  believing  that 
the  Lord  will  never  leave  nor  forsake  him,  who  is  in  a  gracious  state, 
Heb.  xiii.  5,  is  owned  to  be  his  indispensable  duty,  and  tliis  compre- 
hends or  supposes  his  being  confident  of  liis  good  estate,  and  is 
properly  divine  faith,  because  it  has  the  divine  testimony  now  cited, 
on  which  it  bottoms,  Jer.  iii.  19.  The  Lord  says,  "  Thoushalt  call 
me  my  father^  and  shalt  not  turn  away  from  ?we,"  which  is  evident- 
ly faith,  and  no  less  manifestly  belief  of  one's  good  estate,  or  being 
confident  of  it,  because  the  expression  must  denote  the  continued 
exercise  of  fnitli,  in  not  turning  away  from  the  Lord.     Crying  Ahha 
father,  Rom.  viii.  15,  is  faith  in  the   Lord  as   one's  father,  which 
must  have,  a  being  confident  of  one's  good  estate  inseparable  from 
it,  or  rather  enwrapped  in  it.     I  suppose  v/hat  I  have  mentioned,  is 
veiy  consistent  with  what  you  say,  "That  faith,  and  persons  believ- 
ing that  they  have  faith,  are  not  the  same  :"  for  one's  believing  that 
he  has  faith,  simply  and  by  itself,  has  for  its  object  the  man's  inward 
frame,  or  the  actings  and  exercises  of  his  spirit,  and  not  a  divine 
testimony.    This  is  not  divine  faith ;  but,  as  I  have  laid  the  matter,  a 
being  confident  of  one's  good  estate  has  for  its  foundation  the  word 
of  God,  Heb.  xiii.  5,  etc.  ultimately, — at  least ;  to  be  suret  this  is 
one  way  in  vviiich  faitii  is  acted,  or  one  thing  in  its  exercise.     I  am 
far  from  thinking  unbelief,   or  being  without  faith,  and  doubting 
whether  they  have  faith,  to  be  the  same  thing  in  an  unconverted 


LiFfi    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  255 

sinner,  whom  your  words  "  being  ivithout  faith,'^^  must  mean,  and 
therein  we  entirely  agree.     But  1  must  thmk,  as  to  tiie  believer,  his 
doubting,  whether  or  not  he  has  i'aith,  is  sinful,  because  it  is  belying 
the  Holy  Ghost,  denying  his  w^ork  in  him,  so  there  is  no  sin  to  which 
that  doubting  can  so  properly  be  reduced  as  unbelief.     You  know, 
dear  Sir,  doubting  and  believing  are  opposed  in  Scripture,  Matt, 
xiv.  31,  xxi.  21,  Mark  xi.  23,  and  I  cannot  exclude  from  the  idea 
of  doubting,  a  questioning  the  truth  and  reality  of  a  work  of  grace 
on  one's  soul,  for  the  Holy  Ghost  requires  us  to  believe  the  reality 
of  his  work  in  us,  in  all  its  parts,  just  as  it  is,  and  never  would  allow 
us,  much  less  call  us  to  sin,  or  to  believe  a  falsehood,  that  one  is 
void  of  grace,  when  he  has  it,  that  good  might  come  of  it,  i.  e.  that 
the  person  might  be  awakened  from  security,  etc.      1  John  iii.  3, 
"  Every  man  that  hath  tliis  hope  in  him  purifieth  himself,  as  he  is 
pure ;"  I  think  intimates,  that  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  one's 
hope,  that  the  Lord  is  his  father,  will  be  his  aim  after  sanctification, 
and  his  attainment  of  it ;  if  so,  to  renounce  this  hope,  to  throw  it  up 
at  any  season,  on  any  account,  must  be  unlawful ;  whence  I  infer, 
for  the  believer  to  doubt  of  his  gracious  state,  to  call  it  in  question 
for  any  reason  whatever,  so  as  to  raze  it,  it  is  simply  sinful,  1  John 
ii.  12.  15,  ^'I  write  unto  you,  little  children,  because  your  sins  are 
forgiven  you,  viz.  Love  not  the  world."     Here  forgiveness  of  sin  is 
used  as  a  motive  or  incitement  not  to  love  the  w^orld  ;  and  this  rea- 
soning of  tlie  apostle  would  lose  all  its  force,  were  it  incumbent  on 
a  believer,  at  some  seasons,  to  think  he  was  not  within  the  bond  of 
the  new  covenant, — he  is  bound  ever  to  hold  that  conclusion  fixed. 
The  exhortation,  not  to  cast  away  one's  confidence,  certainly  compre- 
hends a  call  to  persevere  in  behoving  in  our  interest  in  the  Lord,  and 
to  practise  it  at  all  seasons,  Heb.  x.  35.  Job's  friends  endeavoured  to 
make  him  question,  wdiether  the  root  of  the  matter  was  in  him,  and 
to  conclude  that  he  was  a  hypocrite.     He  resolved,  though  the 
Lord  should  slay  him,  he  would  trust  in  him,  chap.  xiii.  15,  being 
confident  of  his  own  good  estate,  chap,  xxvii.  3,  5,  "  All  the  while 
my  breath  is  in  me  ;"  and  ver.  5,  "  Till  I  die,  I  will  not  remove  my 
integrity  from  me  ;"  and  w^e  see,  from  the  whole  tenor  of  his  book, 
what  there  he  resolved,  he  actually  did  practise  ;  he  never  enter- 
tained the  thought  of  supposing  the  Lord  was  not  his  God,  notwith- 
standing the  grievous  eruptions  of  iniquity  in  him,in  quarrelling  with  the 
sovereignty  of  God,  etc.     And  in  the  end,  the  Lord  condemned  his 
friends  for  speaking  of  him  "  the  things  that  were  not  right,"  and  pro- 
nounced that  Job,  his  servant,  had  said  of  him  the  thing   "  that  is 
right,"  Job  iv.  1 ;  from  which,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  he  was  approved 
in  guarding  against  razing  his  state.*     Also,  2  Cor.  i.  12,  what  the 
apostle  terms  there,  "  his  rejoicing,"  \vas  what  supposed  his  being 
confident  of  his  good   estate,  that  he  w  as  participant  of  a  principle 

*  This,  and  several  other  Scotticisms,  I  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  alter. 


256  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  grace,  which  made  him  capable  of  acting,  as  he  did,  with  godly 
sinceiity.  All  which,  with  other  considerations,  do  satisfy  me,  that 
a  believer  never  should  raze  his  state  on  any  account  whatever  ;  and 
that,  as  has  been  mentioned,  doubting  of  his  gracious  state  is  sinful, 
one  way  of  unbelief,  its  acting  in  him,  though  not  the  direct  and 
immediate  opposite  of  that  acting  of  faith  by  which  a  person  re- 
nounces his  own  righteousness  and  closes  with  Christ,  yet  the  oppo- 
site of  the  posterior  exercise  of  faith  in  him,  and  U2)on  the  promise, 
in  certain  respects.  Your  book  is  now  lent,  and  therefore  I  cannot 
take  notice,  as  you  wish  and  I  incline,  of  what  you  say  on  this  head,  p. 
80,  81,  more  particularly  than  I  have  done.  However,  I  have,  I 
think,  touched  the  precise  point  in  difference  between  us. 

"You  observe,  I  seem  to  intimate,  "A  person's  being  confident 
of  his  own  good  estate  is  the  way  to  be  delivered  from  darkness, 
deadness,  backsliding,  and  prevailing  iniquity."  And  you  add,  that 
"you  think  whoever  supposes  this  to  be  God's  method  of  deliver- 
ing his  saints,  when  sunk  into  an  evil,  careless,  carnal,  and  unchris- 
tian frame,  first  to  assure  them  of  their  good  estate  and  his  favour, 
while  they  yet  remain  in  such  a  frame,  and  so  to  make  that  the 
means  of  their  deliverance,  does  surely  mistake  God's  method  of 
dealing  with  such  persons."  Here  I  think  you  represent  the  case 
too  strong  ;  for  the  words  in  my  letter  to  which  you  refer,  were,  "  I 
have  heard  it  taught  that  the  believer  was  bound  to  trust  in  the  Lord 
in  the  very  worst  frame  he  could  be  in,  and  that  the  exercise  of  faith 
was  the  way  to  be  delivered  from  darkness,  deadness,  backsliding," 
etc.  And  afterwards,  I  said,  when  questioning  whether  the  believer 
should  ever  doubt  of  his  estate  on  any  account  whatever,  "  I  know 
the  opposite  has  been  prescribed  ;  when  the  saint  is  plunged  in  the 
mire  of  prevailing  iniquity."  Now,  as  a  believer  may  be  thus 
plunged,  and  yet  sin  at  that  instant  be  his  grief  and  burden,  Rom.vii. 
24,  and  he  may  have  the  hope  and  expectation  of  being  relieved 
fi'om  it  even  then,  Psal.  Ixv.  3, 1  do  not  think  my  words  convey  the 
idea  you  affix  to  them.  Also  you  will  observe,  I  do  not  say  that  a 
person's  being  confident  of  his  own  good  estate  is  the  way  to  be  de- 
livered from,"  etc.  but  "that  the  believer  was  bound  to  trust  the 
Lord  in  the  worst  of  frame,"  etc.  This  I  mention,  precisely  to  state 
my  words,  and  they  are,  I  think,  very  defensible ;  for  the  believer 
is  called  "  to  trust  in  the  Lord  forever,"  Isa.  xx\i.  4.  If  so,  when 
in  the  situation  mentioned ;  for  tliis  is  a  trusting  in  the  Lord  as 
one's  God.  The  woman,  with  the  issue  of  blood,  her  touching 
Christ,  and  the  success,  is,  I  suppose,  a  call  and  encouragement  to 
touch  him  by  faith,  for  having  the  worst  soul-maladies  healed,  JNIark 
V.  25.  Trusting  in  the  Lord  for  needful  blessings,  in  the  situation 
mentioned,  gives  him  the  glory  of  his  faithfubess,  and  engages  him 
to  act  in  the  behever's  behalf;  thus  to  do,  it  is  both  duty  and  in- 
terest. Jonah,  when  in  a  course  of  grievous  rebellion,  and  under 
awful  chastisement  for  it,  when  perhaps  he  had  actually  disclaun- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  257 

ed  interest  in  the  Lord,  or  was  in  danger  of  it,  said,  "he  would 
look  again  toward   the  Lord's  holy  temple,"  chap.  ii.  4,  evidently 
in  CKercise  of  faith  in  the  Lord  as  his  God,  the  Lord  assuring  him 
of  his  good  estate  and  his  favour,  by  the  operation  of  the  Spirit 
causing  him  so  to  act,  and  to  be  conscious  of  it ;  and,  verse  7,  "  when 
my  soul  fainted  within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord,  and  my  prayer 
came  in  unto  thee,  into  thine  holy  temple."     Here  is  my  assertion 
exemplified  in  practice,  by  a  believer,  I  may  venture  to  say,  in  an 
evil  frame,  when  the   Spirit  breathed  upon  him.     Though  a  pro- 
phet, he  deliberately   disobeyed    the    express  instructions  of  his 
Lord,  chap.  i.  2,  3,  and  in  a  careless  frame,  for  he  slept  securely 
in  the  sides  of  the  ship,  during  a  tempest  raised  for  his  sake,  and  when 
the  heathen  mariners  every  one  called  upon  his  god,  chap.  i.  5,  6. 
So  far  was  he  from  dreading,  as  he  had  reason  to  do,  that  the  Lord 
would  plead  a  controversy  with  him  for  the  part  he  acted,  that  dis- 
mal security,  awful  carelessness,  and  a  carnal  frame  had  seized 
him;  for  he  declared  to  the  Lord,  that  he  said  to  him  in  his  country, 
he  would  repent  of  the  evil  he  had  said  he  would  do  to  the  Nine- 
\dtes,  if  they  turned  from  their  evil  way,  and  assigned  that  for  the 
reason  why  he  fled  to  Tarshish,  chap.  iv.  2;  and  thus  would  rather  that 
the  Lord  should  want  the  honour,  that  would  redound  to  his  name 
by  the  repentance,  though  only  outward,  of  the  Ninevites,  and  that 
the  whole  city  should  be  destroyed,  one  of  the  largest  the  sun  shone 
upon,  and  the  most  populous,  and  that  himself  should  lose  the  hon- 
our and  comfort  of  being  the  instrument  of  its  preservation,  than 
that  he  should  fall  under  the  imputation  of  being  a  false  prophet, 
for  which  there  would  yet  have  been  no  foundation.     Horrid  car- 
nality this !  for  as  it  was  dreadful  selfishness,  it  may,  in  that  view, 
be    termed  carnality, — astonishing  pride  !  this   "  fihhiness  of  the 
spirit"  is  worse  than  that  of  the  flesh ;  and,  all  circumstances  of  his 
conduct  considered,  he  was  not  only  in  an  ungodly  frame,  but  in  an 
inhumane  one,  and  he  sinned  presumptuously  in  one  of  the  highest 
degrees,  we  may  suppose,  in  which  it  is  possible  for  a  believer  so  to 
act ;  notwithstanding  it  appears  the  happy  turn  was  begun  in  him, 
under  the  influence  of  the  Spirit,  by  renewing  his  faith  in  the 
Lord  as  his   God,  and  being  confident  of  his  good  estate  ;  upon 
which  he  prayed,  as  already  mentioned,  and  was  heard  by  his  God, 
see  verses  7,  8,  was  delivered  out  of  his  then  dismal  and  danger- 
ous circumstances,  chap.  ii.  12. — Thus  I  have  done  more  than  I 
was  bound  to  do,  and  have  proved  the  point,  not  only  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  I  expressed  it,  but  in  the  strong  light  your  words,  a 
comment  on  mine,  had  set  it ;  for   one  plain   Scripture  instance, 
such  certainly  as  that  I  have  given,  is  sufficient,  as  agreed,  to  prove 
any  thing.     It  is  so  far  from  being  a  mistaking  of  God's  method  of 
dealing  with  such  persons,  as  you  suggest,  (pardon  me,  dear  Sir,) 
to  say,  that  it  is  "the  Lord's  method  of  delivering  his  saints  when 
in  a  backsliding  condition,  first  to  assure  them  of  their  good  es- 
VoL.  I.  33 


258  LIFE    OF    PBESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

tate   and  his  favour,  and  so,  to  make  that  the  means  of  their  de- 
liverance;"  that  I  give  you  the  words   of  the   Holy  Ghost   for  it 
as   express  and  full  as  any  thing  possibly  can  be,  Jer.  iii.  12,  13, 
14  ;  verse  14,  "  Turn,  O  backsKding  children,  saith  the  Lord,  for 
lam  married  unto  yon .''^     This  was,  to  be  sure,  the  Lord's  inti- 
mating tlie  new  covenant  relation  in  which  he  stood  to  the  spiritual 
Israel  among  them ;  and,  verse  22  of  that  chapter,  the  Lord  says, 
"  Return,   ye  backshding  children,  and  I  vAW  heal  your  backslid- 
ings';"  and  in  the  close  of  the  verse,  w"e  have  the  Lord's  thus  as- 
suring them  of  their  good  estate  and  his  favour,  shown  to  be  the 
effectual  mean  of  their  backsliding  being  healed  :  "  Behold,  we 
come  unto  thee ;  for  thou  art  the  Lord  our  God,^^  Hos.  xiv.  4. 
"  O  Israel,  return  unto  the  Lord  thy  God,  for  thou  hast  fallen  by 
thine  iniquity."     Here  the  first  words  of  the  Lord's  message  to  his 
spirituul  Israel,  are,  that  "  the  Lord  was  their  God,^^  and  the  ex- 
pression, "  fallen  by  iniquity,"  conveys  a  very  strong  idea,  when 
applied  to  a  behever,  perhaps  as  strong,  as  is  comprehended  in  your 
\vords,  "  evil,  etc.  frame  ;"  and  I  must  think  this  verse  is  so  ex- 
pressed, to  work  on  holy  ingenuousness  in  them,  for  its  revival  when 
under  the  ashes  of  corruption.     It  would  perhaps  be  no  difficult 
matter  to  multiply  Scripture  testimonies  of  such  kmd ;  but  these 
adduced  are,  I  think,  full  proof  of  the  point,  for  confirmation  of 
which  they  are  brought.     The  love  of  Christ  constrains  the  be- 
liever to  return  from  folly,  as  well  as  to  other  things  in  other  re- 
spects, 2  Cor.  V.  14.     I  might  argue  here  from  the  efficacy  of  the 
love  of  God  apprehended,  the  genius  of  the  new  creature,  and  na- 
ture in  believers,  and  a  variety  of  other  topics,  but  choose,  without 
expatiating,  to  confine  myself  to  precise  Scriptin-e  testimonies.    As 
to  what  you  say,  that  "  among  all  the  multitudes  you  have  had  op- 
portunit}^  to  observe,  you  never  knew  one  dealt  with  in  this  man- 
ner, but  have  known  many  brought  back  from  great  declensions, 
that  appeared  to  be  true  saints,  but  it  was  in  a  very  diverse  Vvay 
from  this  :  first  conscience  awakened  ;  they  brought  into  great  fear 
of  the  WTath  of  God  ;  his  favour  hid  ;  the  subjects  of  a  kind  of  new 
work  of  humihation ;  brought  to  great  sense  of  deserving  God's 
wrath,  while  they  yet  feared  it,  before  God  had  delivered  them  from 
apprehension  of  it,  and  comforted  with  a  renewed  sense  of  his  fa- 
vour."    All  I  observe  upon  this  is,  that  the  way  I  have  laid  down, 
is  obviously  that  which  the  Lord  declares  in  his  word,  he  takes,  for 
bringing  back  his  people  from  declensions,  and  thus  that  in  it  mercy  is 
to  be  expected,  whatever  the  Lord  may  be  pleased  to  do  in  sove- 
reignty, and  he  will  not  be  limited ;  also,  persons  do  not  perceive 
every  thing  that  passes  within  them,  far  less  are  tliey  capable  to 
give  a  full  distinct  account  of  every  thing  of  each  kind.     Experi- 
ences of  christians  are  to  be  brought  to  the  touch-stone  of  the  in- 
fallible bar,   and  to  stand   or  fall  by  it ;  the   Bible  is  not  to  be 
brought  to  their  test,  and  judged  of  by  them.     I  own  we  may  mis- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDKNT    EinVARDS.  259 

take  the  sense  of  Scripture,  but  it  is  so  obvious  in  the  passages  I 
have  quoted,  that  I  cannot  see  how  it  can  be  misapprehended. 

'*  I  cannot  say  any  thing  now,  about  the  other  remarks  I  made 
on  your  book,  touched  on  in  your  letter,  because  I  have  not  now  the 
book  to  look  into.  I  understand  the  passages  about  prevalence  of 
sin,  so  as  to  denominate  a  person  not  in  a  gracious  sta^e,  better,  by 
what  you  have  wrote  ;  and,  if  any  difficulty  shall  remain  after  com- 
paring your  book  and  letter,  I  may  come  to  propose  it  to  you  after- 
wards. 

"  What  you  wrote  about  the  case  of  temptation  was  very  agree- 
able, and  I  thank  you  for  it.  I  shall  now  state  the  case  more  plain- 
ly, because  I  w^ant  much  your  further  thoughts  upon  it ;  it  is  pre- 
cisely this.  A  person  finds  himself  beset  by  evil  angels,  what  if  I 
remember  right  V^oetius  terms  ohsessio^  and  one  in  that  situation 
ohsessiLs ;  they  incessantly  break  into  his  body  and  mind,  some- 
times by  vain,  at  other  seasons  by  vile  thoughts,  now^  by  the  thoughts 
of  a  business  neglected,  which  was  a  seasonable  thing  to  be  done, 
then  by  a  Scripture  text,  or  an  engaging  thought  of  some  spiritual 
ti'uth,  when  entrance  is  not  to  be  had  another  way,  and  by  a  variety 
of  other  methods.  They  do  all  they  can,  perpetually  to  teaze,  de- 
file and  discourage ;  he  is  conscious  of  the  whole  transaction,  and 
finds  liis  spirit  broken  by  it,  and  goes  not  about  to  reason  with  Sa- 
tan, knows  the  expediency  of  tiiis  course,  is  aware  Satan  wants  no 
better,  than  that  he  pray  much  and  long  against  his  temptations, 
and  so  wont  pray  himself  out  of  breath,  by  his  insdgation,  is  con- 
vinced the  remedy  is  to  get  them  kept  out  of  body  and  mind,  trusts, 
in  dependence  on  the  Lord,  to  the  use  of  medical,  moral  and  reli- 
gious means  for  that  end,  because  experience  shows  all  of  them  are 
expedient  and  advantageous  in  their  place ;  but  all  is  in  vain,  no 
relief  for  him,  relish  of  divine  things  wore  off  the  mind,  no  comfort, 
is  rendered  callous  by  cruel  constant  bufFetings,  he  cries,  but  the 
Lord  hears  not.  By  what  I  understand,  this  is  a  just  representa- 
tion of  the  case,  and  will  lead  you  to  the  knowledge  of  other  cir- 
cumstances in  it.  What  w^ould  you  advise  such  a  person  to  do  ? 
How  shall  he  recover  savour  of  spiritual  truths  and  objects  ? 

"  I  w^ondered  you  said  nothing  in  your  letter,  about  what  I  men- 
tioned in  mine,  respecting  supposed  immediate  reveIatio7is  of  facts 
arid  future  events,  as  special  favours  conferred  on  some  special  fa- 
vourites of  heaven.  I  give  in  to  your  sentiments  on  that  point, 
expressed  in  the  three  treatises  you  have  published,  and  greatly 
like  what  Mr.  Brainerd  said  on  the  subject,  as  mentioned,  I  think 
by  you,  in  the  funeral  sermon  on  him,  w^iich  I  perused  with  a  great 
deal  of  pleasure,  and  shall  now"  mention  some  things,  said  in  favour 
of  that  principle,  of  which  people  are  very  tenacious,  that  I  may 
have  your  answers  to  them,  which  will  be  a  singular  favour  done 
me,  for  certain  reasons;  for  example,  John  xvi.  13,  is  affii'med  to 
be  an  express  promise  of  such  a  thing  ; — it  is  urged,  the  thing  is 


260  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

not  contrary  to  Scripture,  and  therefore,  may  he  ; — it  is  urged, 
John  xiii.  24 — 27,  is  an  example  of  it,  an  intimation  what  the 
Lord  will  do  in  such  kind  when  it  pleaseth  him,  till  the  end  of  time. 
It  is  pretended,  and  indeed  this  is  the  strength  of  the  cause,  that 
the  thing  is  a  matter  of  fact,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Bible, 
therefore  nothing  about  it  is  to  be  expected  in  Scripture,  and  sim- 
ply to  deny  it  in  all  cases,  is  daringly  to  limit  the  power  of  God.  The 
Lord  has  not  said  he  will  not  grant  it,  and  how  dare  any  say  it 
cannot  be  ?  It  is  reasoned,  there  are  numbers  of  well  attested  in- 
stances of  the  thing  in  different  ages  and  places,  facts  are  stubborn 
things,  and  to  deny  them  all  is  shocking,  an  overturning  of  all  moral 
evidence.  It  is  insisted  on,  that  the  thing  has  heen  formerly;  it  is 
confessed,  and  why  may  it  not  be  now  ?  We  are  told,  a  considera- 
ble time  before  a  thing  happened,  that  it  has  been  impressed  on 
the  mind  in  all  its  circumstances,  which  exactly  happened  in  every 
point ;  if  when  asked,  what  one  can  say  to  this,  he  says,  perhaps 
it  was  from  Satan,  to  this  it  is  answered,  does  he  know  future  con- 
tingent events  ?  The  reply  is  at  hand,  it  is  not  above  him  to  figure 
a  thing  on  the  fancy  long  before,  which  he  is  resolved  by  some 
means  to  bring  about ;  but  to  all  this  it  is  answered  by  advocates 
for  immediate  revelations,  such  reasoning  tends  to  sap  one  of  the 
main  pillars  of  e\ddence  of  the  divinity  of  the  Scripture  pro- 
phecies. 

"I  have,  by  what  I  remember,  given  you  the  force  of  the  argu- 
ment, to  establish  what  has  had,  I  too  well  know,  very  bad  effects, 
as  commonly  managed,  in  Britain,  as  well  as  in  New-England;  a  his- 
tory of  instances  of  them,  would  not  be  without  its  use,  and  materials 
for  it  are  not  wanting.  I  will  long  much  to  see  what  you  say  in  way 
of  reply  to  all  this.  I  am  sure  you  cannot  employ  time  better  than 
in  framing  it.  I  should  have  mentioned,  that  the  authority  of 
eminent  divines  is  brought  to  bear  upon  them,  whose  stomachs  stand 
at  swallowing  things,  like  additions  to  the  Bible, — ]Mr.  Fleming,  in 
the  Fulfilling  of  the  Scriptures,  Dr.  Goodwin,  etc.  But  on  this, 
it  has  been  pleasantly  observed,  that  the  autliority  of  the  worthies  in 
the  eleventh  of  the  Hebrews,  would  have  done  a  good  deal  better. 
I  have  some  apprehension  this  is  a  point  of  truth,  which  the  Lord 
is  to  clear  up  in  this  age. 

"  I  have  read  your  Humble  Attempt,  and  with  much  satisfaction, 
was  charmed  with  the  Scriptures  of  the  latter  day  of  glory  set  in 
one  point  of  light.  I  do  think  humbly  your  observations  on  Loivman 
have  great  strength  of  reason.  The  killing  of  the  \\itnesses,  as  yet 
to  come,  has  been  to  me  a  grie\'ious  temptation  ;  for  which  reason, 
I  peruse  with  peculiar  pleasure  what  you  say  on  tliis  subject;  but  if 
you  answer  the  objection,  "  It  would  appear  that  the  seventh  trumpet  is 
to  sound  soon  after  the  resurrection  of  the  \^dtnesses,  and  the  king- 
doms of  the  world,  etc.  but  that  has  not  happened,  therefore  tiie 
witnesses  are  not  killed ;"  I  say,  if  this  you  answer,  I  have  forgot. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  26 1 

"I  should  have  also  mentioned,  that  it  seems  evident,  the  doctrine 
of  immediate  revelations  must  be  simply  denied  as  un scriptural, 
and  thus  well-founded  in  no  case  ;  or  it  must  be  allowed  in  its  full 
compass  and  latitude,  let  the  consequences  of  it  be  what  they  will, 
for  if  the  thing  is  allowed  possible,  reasonings  about  its  effects  will  not 
conclude  nor  avail;  I  can  see  no  middle  way  between  the  two 
things.  That  principle  taken  for  granted  by  almost  all,  in  all  times 
past,  is,  as  I  mentioned  in  my  last  letter,  to  me  a  surprizing  thing. 

"  Mr.  Whitefield  arrived  at  Edinburgh,  Wednesday  last,  and  was 
to  preach  on  Thursday  evening ;  but  as  I  am  fifteen  miles  from  that 
city,  of  which  two  miles  by  sea,  I  have  not  yet  heard  of  the  effects 
of  his  preaching,  or  the  number  of  the  audiences  ;  I  wish  they  may 
be  as  frequent  as  when  he  was  last  here.  May  Divine  power  spe- 
cially attend  his  ministrations !  We  need  it  much,  as  we  are  gene- 
rally fallen  under  great  deadness.  I  believe  he  will  find  use  for  all 
his  prudence  and  patience  in  dealing  with  us,  for  different  reasons. 
With  great  pleasure,  friends  to  vital  religion,  and  to  him,  are  in- 
formed he  is  to  make  no  collections  at  this  time  !  I  w^as  glad  to  hear 
you  write,  that  he  laboured  ^^ith  success  in  New^-England,  in  rec- 
tifying mistakes  he  had  favoured,  about  intimations  made  by  the  Lord 
to  his  people,  etc.  and  heartily  wish  he  may  be  directed  to  apply  an 
antidote  here,  wiiere  it  is  also  needed. 

"  I  have  tired  you  with  a  long  epistle,  and  shall  therefore  now 
break  off".  What  you  was  pleased  to  favour  me  with,  upon  the  diffi- 
culty started  from  Rom.  viii.  28.  was  very  acceptable,  and  I  thank 
you  much  for  it.  I  will  expect  a  letter  from  you  the  first  opportunity 
after  this  comes  to  hand ;  and  in  it  all  the  news  of  New-England, 
particularly  some  account  of  the  state  of  religion  with  you.  It 
gives  me  pleasure  to  think,  I  may  WTite  you  my  sentiments  upon 
every  thing  without  reserve.  Please  make  my  affectionate  compli- 
ments to  my  friend  Mr.  Abercrombie,  when  you  see  him,  or  WTite 
to  him,  and  tell  him,  I  remember  I  am  in  his  debt  for  a  letter.  I 
hope  the  ship  I  am  informed  of,  for  carrpng  this,  is  not  sailed,  and 
therefore  it  will  not  be  so  long  in  coming  to  your  hand,  after  being 
writ,  as  my  last. 

"I  am,  &ic." 

Letter  to  Mr.  M'Cullooh. 

^^  JVorthampton,  Oct.  7,  1748. 
"  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  M'CuUoch. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  letter  of  Feb.  19, 1748,  wiilch  I  received 
the  week  before  last.  I  had  also,  long  before  that,  recived  the  let- 
ter you  speak  of,  which  you  wrote  the  spring  before,  dated,  March 
12,  1747,  which  I  wrote  an  answer  to,  and  sent  it  to  Mr.  Prince 


262  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  Boston  and  committed  it  to  his  care ;  and  am  very  sorry  that 
you  never  received  it.  I  am  far  from  being  weary  of  our  cor- 
respondence. I  ever  looked  on  myself  as  greatly  honoured  and 
obliged  by  you,  in  your  beginning  this  correspondence  ;  and  have 
found  it  pleasant  and  profitable  5  and  particularly  your  last  letter, 
that  I  have  but  now  received,  has  been  very  agreeable  and  enter- 
taining ;  especially  on  account  of  the  good  news  it  contains.  I 
cannot  but  think  many  things  mentioned  in  your  letter,  and  the 
letters  of  my  other  correspondents  in  Scotland,  which  came  with 
yours,  are  great  things,  worthy  to  be  greatly  taken  notice  of,  and  to 
be  an  occasion  of  much  rejoicing  and  praise  to  all  that  love  Zion  ; 
viz.  The  remarkable  change  in  one  of  the  Clerks  of  the  Privy 
Council;  God's  stirring  up  him  and  Mr.  Littleton  to  wTite  in  de- 
fence of  Christianity  ;  the  good  effect  of  this  among  men  of  figure 
and  character ;  the  good  disposition  of  the  King,  and  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales  ;  the  late  awakening  of  two  of  the  Prin- 
cesses, Amelia  and  Caroline,  and  the  hopeful  conversion  of  one  or 
both  of  them ;  the  hopeful,  real  piety  of  tlie  Ai-chbishop  of  Can- 
terbury, and  his  good  disposition  towards  experimental  religion 
and  the  dissenters ;  several  of  the  Clergy  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land, lately  appearing  to  preach  the  doctrines  of  Grace ;  seve- 
ral of  the  IMagistrates,  in  various  towns  in  England,  exerting 
themselves  with  uncommon  zeal  to  put  the  laws  in  execution 
against  vice;  and  the  eminent  piety  of  the  Prince  of  Orange, 
now  the  Stadtholder  of  the  Seven  United  Provinces.  These 
things,  (at  least  some  of  them,)  are  great  in  themselves,  and 
are  of  that  nature  that  they  have  a  most  promising  aspect  on  the 
interests  of  Zion,  and  appear  to  be  happy  presages  and  forerunners 
of  yet  better  and  greater  things  that  are  coming.  They  look  as  if 
the  tide  w^as  turning,  and  glorious  things  approaching,  by  the  revo- 
lution of  the  wheel  of  God's  Providence.  I  think  we,  and  all 
others,  w^ho  have  lately  united  by  explicit  agreement  in  extraordi- 
nary Prayer  for  a  general  Revival  of  religion  and  the  coming  of 
Christ's  kingdom,  may,  without  presumption,  be  greatly  encoura- 
ged and  animated  in  the  duty  w^e  have  engaged  in,  by  the  appear- 
ance of  such  a  dawning  of  light  from  such  great  darkness;  and 
should  be  ungrateful  if  we  did  not  acknowledge  God's  great  good- 
ness in  these  thmgs,  and  faithfulness  in  fulfilling  the  promises  of  his 
word ;  such  as  these  in  particular,  "  If  any  two  of  you  shall  agree 
on  earth  as  touching  any  thing  you  shall  ask,  it  shall  be  done  of 
my  Father  which  is  in  heaven  ;"  and,  "  Before  they  call,  I  will 
answer  ;  and  while  they  are  yet  preaching,  I  will  hear."  I  have 
already  communicated  these  things  to  some  belonging  to  this  town, 
and  other  places  ;  some  have  appeared  much  affected  v»ith  them  ; 
and  one  that  belongs  to  another  towm,  has  taken  extracts  of  these 
passages.  I  design,  God  willing,  to  communicate  these  things  to 
my  congregation,  before  the   next  Quarterly  day  for  Prayer,  and 


LIFE    OF    PUESIDENT    EDWARDS.  2G3 

also  to  tiie  neighbouring  JMinisters,  who,  according  to  our  stated 
agreement,  will  be  met  together  on  that  day,  to  spend  the  former 
part  of  the  day  in  prayer  among  ourselves,  and  the  latter  part  in 
public  ser^^ces  in  one  of  our  congregations ;  and  shall  also  proba- 
bly communicate  these  things  to  some  of  my  correspondents  in 
New  Jersey  and  elsewhere,  and  I  cannot  but  think  they  will  tend 
to  do  a  great  deal  of  good,  in  various  respects ;  and  particularly 
will  tend  to  promote  the  Concert  for  Prayer,  in  these  parts  of  the 
w^orld.  I  desired  i\Ir.  Prince  of  Boston,  to  send  you  one  of  my 
books  on  the  Concert,  soon  after  it  was  published  ;  v.ho  engaged  to 
do  it :  but  long  forgot  it,  as  I  perceived  afterwards  to  my  surprise, 
but  since  that  more  thorough  care  has  been  taken  about  that  mat- 
ter ;  and  I  hope  you,  and  each  of  my  other  correspondents  in  Scot- 
land, have  before  now  received  one  of  those  books. 

"I  thank  you,  dear  Sir,  for  sending  me  your  Thoughts  on  some 
things  in  the  Prophecies  of  the  Revelation  of  St.  John,  and  for 
being  at  so  much  trouble  as  to  send  it  t\^-ice  (supposing  the  first  let- 
ter had  miscarried.)  This  I  take  as  a  particular  mark  of  respect, 
for  which  I  am  obliged  to  you.  I  received,  as  I  said  before,  your 
former  letter,  (which  contained  the  same  observations,)  and  sent 
an  answer  to  it,  w^herein  I  gave  you  my  thoughts,  such  as  they 
w^ere,  on  those  subjects.  But  if  you  have  received  my  book  on 
United  Prayer,  etc.  therein  you  have  seen  more  fully  my  thoughts 
on  some  things  in  the  Revelation,  that  have  a  near  relation  to  the 
same  matter  that  you  WTite  about ;  the  substance  of  which  I  before 
had  wTitten  to  you  in  a  large  letter,  desiring  your  opinion  of  what  I 
wrote. 

"  The  letter,  I  think  you  received,  by  some  intimations  contain- 
ed in  yours  of  March  12,  1747.  But  you  was  not  pleased  to  fa- 
vour me  with  any  thing  at  all  of  your  thoughts  of  what  I  had  so 
largely  communicated  to  you,  to  that  end,  that  I  might  have  your 
opinion.  But  I  am  not  the  less  willing  again  to  communicate  my 
thoughts  on  your  remarks. 

"  As  to  w^hat  you  observe  concerning  the  number  six  hundred 
and  sixty-six,  and  that  number  being  found  in  the  name  of  the  pre- 
sent King  of  France  ;  it  is  indeed  something  -emarkable,  tliat 
that  number  should  be  found  both  in  his  Latin  and  French  names, 
as  you  observe ;  and  I  do  not  knovv^  but  that  the  omniscient  Spirit 
of  God,  (who  doubtless  in  his  predictions  has  sometimes  his  eye  on 
several  things  in  which  he  know^s  they  will  be  fulfilled,)  might  have 
some  respect  to  his  name  in  the  Prophecy ;  but  I  can  hardly  think 
that  this  individual  King  of  France  or  any  other  particular  Prince 
in  Europe,  is  wiiat  is  chiefly  intended  by  the  Beast,  so  largely  de- 
scribed in  the  13th  Chapter  of  Revelation,  whose  number  is  said 
to  be  six  hundred  and  sixty-six.  Of  all  the  conjectures  concern- 
ing the  number  of  the  Beast,  that  I  have  lit  on  in  my  small  reading, 
that  of  Mv.  Potter's  seems  to  me  the  most  ingenious,  who  supposes 


264  LIFE    OF    niESJDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  true  meaning  is  to  be  found  by  extracting  the  root  of  the  num- 
ber. But  after  all,  I  have  ever  suspected  that  the  thing  chiefly 
aimed  at  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  was  never  yet  found  out,  and  that  the 
discovery  is  reserved  for  later  times.  Yet  one  reason  why  Mr. 
Potter's  conjecture  does  not  fully  satisfy  me,  is,  the  difficulty  about 
adjusting  the  fractions  in  the  root,  when  extracted.  With  respect 
to  your  very  ingenious  conjectures,  concerning  the  period  o{ forty- 
two  months,  or  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty  days,  of  the 
outer  court  and  holy  City's  being  trodden  under  foot  of  the  Gen- 
tiles ;  you  know,  Sir,  that  that  forty-two  months,  or  one  thousand 
two  hundred  and  sixty  days,  spoken  of  Rev.  xi.  2,  has  been  uni- 
versally understood,  as  being  the  very  same  period  with  the 
1260  days  of  the  Witnesses  prophesying  in  sackcloth,  spoken  of  in 
the  next  verse ;  and  the  one  thousand  two  hundred  and  sixty  days 
of  the  Woman's  being  led  in  the  wilderness.  Chap.  xiii.  G  ;  and  the 
time,  times  and  half  a  time,  of  her  being  nourished  in  the  wilder- 
ness from  the  face  of  the  Serpent,  ver.  14  ;  and  the  forty-two 
months  of  the  continuance  of  the  Beast,  Chap.  xiii.  5.  But  it  does 
not  appear  to  me  probable  that  these  forty-two  monts  of  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  Beast,  means  the  sum  of  the  diverse  periods  in 
which  the  Plat  of  Ground,  whereon  the  ancient  literal  Jerusalem 
stood,  was  under  the  dominion  of  the  Romans,  Saracens,  Persians 
and  Turks  ;  but  the  space  of  time  during  which  the  reign  of  Anti- 
christ or  the  Popish  Hierarchy  continues  ;  and  as  to  tlie  particular 
time  of  the  downfall  of  Antichrist,  you  see  my  reasons  in  the  fore- 
mentioned  pamphlet,  why  I  think  it  certain  that  it  will  not  be  known 
till  it  be  accomplished :  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  Scripture  is 
plain  in  that  matter,  and  that  it  does,  in  effect,  require  us  to  rest  sa- 
tisfied in  ignorance  till  the  time  of  the  end  comes. 

"  However,  I  should  be  very  foolish,  if  I  were  dogmatical  in  my 
thoughts  concerning  the  interpretation  of  the  prophecies :  especially  in 
opposition  to  those  who  have  had  so  much  more  opportunity  to  be 
well  acquainted  with  things  of  this  nature.  But  since  you  have 
insisted  on  my  thoughts,  I  conclude  you  \^ill  not  be  displeased,  that 
I  have  mentioned  them,  though  not  altogether  agreeable  to  yours. 
I  am  nevertheless  greatly  obliged  to  you  for  your  condescension  in 
communicating  your  thoughts  to  me.  If  we  do  not  exactly  agree 
in  our  thoughts  about  these  things,  yet  in  our  prayers  for  the  ac- 
complishment of  these  glorious  events  in  God's  time,  and  for  God's 
gracious  presence  with  us,  and  his  assistance  in  endeavours  to  pro- 
mote his  kingdom  and  interests,  in  the  mean  time,  we  may  be  entire- 
ly agreed  and  united.  That  we  may  be  so,  is  the  earnest  desire 
of,  dear  Sir, 

^'Your  affectionate  brother  and  servant, 
"  in  our  common  Lord, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  2G5 

In  perusing  the  following  letter,  while  the  reader  will  deeply  re- 
gret the  loss  of  that  from  Mr.  Erskine  to  which  it  is  an  answer,  he 
wili  feel  a  lively  interest  in  the  muss  of  religious  intelligence  which 
it  contains,  as  well  as  in  the  interesting  developenient  which  it  gives 
of  the  character  of  Governour  Belcher. 

"To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Erskine.- 

''  Northampton,  Oct.  14,  1748. 
"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir. 

"  A  little  while  ago  I  wrote  a  letter  to  you,  wherein  I  acknow- 
ledged the  recei}  t  of  your  letter,  and  the  hooks  that  came  with  it, 
viz.  Taj/Ioron  Original  Sin;  and  on  the  Romans:  with  your  sermons, 
and  Answer  to  Mr.  Camphell ;  for  which  most  acceptable  presents 
1  vvould  most  heartily  and  renewedly  thank  you. 

"  I  sent  my  letter  to  Boston,  together  with  one  of  Mr.  Stoddard's 
Benefit  oj  the  Gospel  to  the  Wounded  in  Spirit,  and  his  JVature  of 
Saving  Conversion,  with  a  Sermon  on  Mr.  Brainerd's  death,  and 
some  account  of  a  history  of  his  life  now  in  the  press,  to  be  sent  to 
Scodand  by  the  first  opportunity  ;  whether  there  has  been  any  op- 
portunity or  no,  I  cannot  tell.  I  have  very  lately  received  another 
letter  from  you,  dated  April  4,  1748,  which  was  indeed  exceedingly 
acceptable,  by  reason  of  the  remarkable  and  joyful  accounts  it 
contains  of  things,  that  have  a  blessed  aspect  on  the  interests  of 
Christ's  kingdom  in  the  world :  such  as  the  good  effects  of  the 
writings  of  Mr.  West  and  IMr.  Littleton  on  some  at  Court,  and  the  reli- 
gious concern  in  Mr.  Randy's  and  Mr.  Gray's  parishes,  the 
hopeful  true  piety  of  the  Ai'chbishop  of  Canterbury ;  this  and  the 
King's  disposition,  not  only  to  tolerate,  but  comprehend  the  Dissent- 
ers ;  and  their  indifference  with  respect  to  the  Kturgy,  ceremonies 
and  episcopal  ordination ;  the  piety  of  the  Prince,  who  is  now  ad- 
vanced to  the  Stadtholdership,  and  has  it  established  in  his  family 
forever  ;  the  aw^akening  of  the  Princess  Caroline ;  and  the  good 
disposition  of  the  Princess  of  Wales.  I  think  it  very  fit  that  those, 
who  have  lately  entered  into  an  union  of  extraordinary  prayer,  for 
the  coming  of  Christ's  Idngdom  and  the  prosperity  of  Zion,  should 
inform  one  another  of  things  wliich  they  know  of,  that  pertain  to  the 
prosperity  of  Zion,  and  wdiereby  their  prayers  are  in  some  degree  an- 
swered :  that  they  may  be  united  in  joy  and  thanksgiving,  as  well  as  in 
supplication ;  and  that  they  may  be  encouraged  and  animated  in  their 
prayers  for  the  future,  and  engaged  to  continue  instant  therein  with 
all  perseverance.  I  think  these  things  forementioned,  v/hich  you 
have  sent  me  an  account  of,  are  worthy  greatly  to  be  observed,^by 
those  that  are  united  in  the  concert  for  prayer,  for  their  comfort, 
praise  and  encouragement.  I  intend  to  communicate  these  tilings 
to  my  own  people,  before  the  next  quarterly  season  for  prayer, 
and  to  the  neighbouring  ministers,  who  are  united  in  this  affair ;  and 
also   to  my  correspondents  in  this  province,  and  other  provinces 

Vol.  1.  '  34 


266  LIFE    GF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  America.  I  doubt  not  but  they  will  have  a  happy  tendency  and 
influence  in  many  respects.  I  hope,  dear  Sir,  you  will  continue 
still  to  give  me  particular  information  of  things  that  appear,  relative 
to  the  state  of  Zion  and  the  interests  of  religion,  in  Great  Britain  or 
other  parts  of  Europe.  In  so  doing,  you  ^dll  not  only  inform  me, 
but  I  shall  industriously  communicate  any  important  informations 
of  that  kind,  and  spread  them  amongst  God's  people  in  this  part  of 
the  world ;  and  shall  endeavour  to  my  utmost  to  make  such  an  use 
of  them,  as  shall  tend  most  to  promote  the  interest  of  religion.  And 
among  other  things  I  should  be  glad  to  be  informed  of  any  books 
that  come  out,  remarkably  tending  either  to  the  illustration,  or  de- 
fence of  that  truth,  or  the  promoting  the  power  of  godliness  or  in 
any  respect  peculiarly  tending  to  advance  true  religion. 

"  I  have  given  an  account  of  some  things,  which  have  a  favourable 
aspect  on  the  interests  of  religion,  in  these  American  parts  of  the 
world,  in  my  letters  to  Mr.  Robe,  and  Mr.  IMcLaurin,  sent  witli  this ; 
which  you  wllhave  opportunity  to  see. 

In  your  last  letter  }ou  desired  to  be  particularly  informed  of  the 
present  state  of  New-Jersey  College,  and  of  things  remarkable  of 
a  religious  nature  respecting  the  Indians.  As  to  the  former,  viz. 
the  state  of  New- Jersey  College :  by  the  last  accounts  I  had,  it  was 
in  somewhat  of  an  unsettled  state.  Governour  Belcher  had  a  mind 
to  give  them  a  new  charter,  that  lie  thought  would  be  more  for  the 
benefit  of  the  society.  Accordingly  a  draft  of  a  new  charter  was 
dra\\Ti;  wherein  it  vas  proposed  to  make  considerable  alteration 
in  the  Corporation  of  Trustees ;  to  leave  out  some  of  the  former 
Trustees ;  and  that  the  Governour  for  the  time  being,  should  be  a 
Trustee,  and  three  or  four  of  the  Council  of  that  Province.  Those 
t^o  things  made  considerable  uneasiness,  *iz.  leaving  out  some  of 
the  former  Trustees,  and  making  it  a  part  of  the  Constitution  tliat 
the  Governour,  and  so  many  of  the  Council  should  be  members  of 
the  Corporation.  Some  feared  that  this  would  not  be  for  the  health 
of  the  society  ;  because  the  men  in  chief  authority  in  that  Pro- 
\ance,  have  for  the  most  part,  been  men  of  no  Religion,  and  many  of 
them  open  and  profess'd  contemners  of  it.  How  this  matter  has 
been  settled,  or  whether  these  difficulties  are  got  over,  I  have  not 
been  informed.  As  to  Governour  Belcher  himself,  he  appears 
thoroughly  engaged  to  promote  virtue  and  vital  religion  in  those 
parts,  which  aheady  has  had  some  good  effects  ;  vice  and  open 
profaneness,  by  the  means,  is  become  less  fashionable  among  the 
great  men,  and  virtue  and  religion  more  creditable.  The  disposi- 
tion of  Governour  Belcher  may  in  some  measure  be  seen,  by  the 
foDowing  extract  of  a  letter  from  him,  in  answer  to  one  I  wrote  to 
him  on  a  special  occosion. 

^^  Burlington,  Kcw- Jersey,  Feb.  5,  1748. 
*'You  will.  Sir,  be  sure  of  me  as  a  friend  and  father  to  tlie  mis- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  267 

sionaries  this  way,  and  of  all  my  might  and  encouragement  for 
spreading  the  everlasting  gospel  of  God  our  Saviour,  in  all  parts  and 
places,  where  God  shall  honour  me  with  any  power  or  influence. 

"  As  to  myself,  Sir,  it  is  impossible  to  express  the  warm  senti- 
ments of  my  heart,  for  the  mercies  without  number,  ^\ith  which  I 
have  been  loaded,  by  the  God  who  has  fed  me  all  my  life  long  to 
this  dayj;  and  my  reflection  upon  his  goodness  covers  me  ■\\ath  shame 
and  blushing,  for  I  know  my  utter  unw^orthiness,  and  that  I  am  less  than 
the  least  of  all  his  mercies.  I  would  therefore  abhor  myself,  and 
repent  in  dust  and  ashes.  You  are  sensible,  my  good  friend,  that 
governours  stand  in  a  glaring  light,  and  their  conduct  is  narrowly 
watched  by  friends  and  enemies :  the  one  often  unreasonably  ap- 
plaud them,  while  the  other  perhaps  too  justly  censure  them.  Yet 
in  tliis  I  am  not  anxious :  but  to  approve  myself  to  the  Searcher  of 
hearts,  from  whose  mouth  I  must  hear  pronounced,  at  the  great  and 
general  audit,  those  joyful  words,  Enter  thou,  etc. — or  that  terrible 
sentence,  Depart  from  me,  etc.  Join  with  me  then  in  thankfulness 
to  God,  for  all  the  blessings  and  talents  he  has  intrusted  me  \^ith, 
and  in  prayer  that  I  may  employ  tliem  to  his  honour  and  glory,  to 
the  good  of  the  people  over  whom  he  hath  placed  me,  and  so  to 
the  comfort  of  my  own  soul :  that  I  may  always  remember  that  he 
that  ruleth  over  men,  must  be  just,  ruling  in  the  fear  of  God." 

"In  another  letter  which  I  have  received,  dated  Burlington,  N.  J. 
May  31,  1748,  he  says  as  follows. 

"I  will  prostrate  myself  before  my  God  and  Saviour,  and  on  the 
bended  knees  of  my  soul,  (abhorring  myself  in  every  \new-)  I  will 
beg  for  a  measure  of  divine  grace  and  wisdom ;  that  so  I  may 
be  honoured,  in  being  an  instrument  of  advancing  the  kingdom 
of  the  blessed  Jesus  in  this  world,  and  in  that  way  be  bring- 
ing forth  fruit  in  old  age.'^  I  bless  God,  my  heavenly  Fadier, 
that  I  am  not  ashamed  of  the  Cross  of  Christ ;  and  I  humbly  ask 
the  assistance  of  Sovereign  Grace,  that,  in  times  of  temptation,  I 
may  never  be  a  shame  to  it :  I  mean  that  my  conversation  may  al- 
ways be  such  as  becometh  the  gospel  of  Christ.  And  I  tell  you  again, 
that  all  such  as  minister  at  the  altar,  and  in  the  course  of  their  min- 
istry approve  themselves  faithful  to  the  great  Head  of  the  Church, 
will  not  only  find  my  countenance  and  protection,  but  my  love  and 
esteem. 

"  As  to  our  embryo  College,  it  is  a  noble  design :  and  if  God 
pleases,  may  prove  an  extensive  blessing.  I  have  adopted  it  for  a 
daughter,  and  hope  it  may  in  time  become  an  Alma  jMater,  to  this 
and  the  neighbouring  Provinces.     I  am  getting  the  best  ad\dce  and 


*=  He  v/as  Q6  years  old,  the  8th  day  of  January  last. 


}on- 


263  LIFE    Oy    PRESIDENT    EI>  WARDS. 

assistance  I  can  in  the  draught  of  a  Charter,  which  I  intend  to  give 
to  our  infant  College,  and  I  thank  you.  Sir,  for  all  the  kind  hints  you 
have  given  me,  for  the  service  of  this  excellent  undertakinj 
and  as  St.  Luke  says  of  TMary,  She  kept  all  these  things^  and  pt 
dered  them  in  her  heart ;  so  you  may  depend,  what  you  have  said 
about  the  College,  will  not  be  lost  with  me ;  but,  as  far  as  God  shall 
enable  me,  I  shall  exert  and  lay  out  myself  in  every  way  to  bring  it 
to  maturity,  and  then  to  advance  its  future  welfare  and  prosperity : 
for  this  I  believe  will  be  acceptable  in  the  sight  of  God  our  Sav- 
iour :  a  relish  for  true  religion  and  piety,  being  great  strangers  to 
this  part  of  America.  The  accounts  I  receive  from  time  to  time, 
give  me  too  much  reason  to  fear  that  Arminianism,  Arianism,  and  even 
Socinianism,  in  destruction  to  the  doctrines  of  free  grace,  are  daily 
propagated  in  the  Nevv'  England  Colleges.  How  horribly  and  how 
wickedly,  are  these  poisonous  notions  rooting  out  those  noble  pious 
principles,  on  which  our  excellent  ancestors  founded  those  semina- 
ries !  and  how  base  a  return  is  it  of  the  present  generation,  to  that 
God,  wdio  is  constantly  surrounding  them  with  goodness  and  mer- 
cy !  and  how  offensive  is  it  in  the  eyes  of  that  God,  who  is  jea- 
lous of  his  glory,  and  will  take  vengeance  on  his  adversaries,  and 
reserveth  wrath  for  his  enemies !  And  from  these  things  I  am  led 
to  thank  you  for  your  book,  wrote  in  consequence  of  the  Memorial 
from  Scotland,  for  promoting  a  concert  in  prayer.  I  am  much 
pleased  with  this  proposal  and  imitation  to  all  good  christians,  and 
with  your  arguments  to  encourage  and  corroborate  the  design. 
The  two  missionaries  you  mention,  Messrs.  Spencer  and  Strong,  I 
am  told  are  at  present  at  Boston,  I  have  once  and  again  desired 
Mr.  Brainerd  to  assure  them  of  my  kindness  and  respect.  But 
their  affairs  have  not  yet  led  them  this  way.  I  rejoice  in  their  being 
appointed  to  carry  the  gospel,  in  its  purity,  to  the  Six  Nations ;  and 
W'hen  Mr.  Brainerd  and  they  proceed  to  Susquehaimah,  they  shall 
have  all  my  assistance  and  encouragement ;  by  letters  to  the  Kjng's 
Governours  where  they  may  pass,  and  my  letters  to  tlie  Sachem  or 
Chief  of  those  Indians." 

"With  regard  to  the  missionaries,  Governour  Belcher  mentions: 
"The  Commissioners  in  Boston,  of  the  Corporation  in  London, 
for  the  propagation  of  the  gospel  among  the  Indians  in  New  Eng- 
land and  parts  adjacent,  a  little  before  Mr.  David  Brainerd  went 
to  Boston,  the  summer  before  his  death,  had  received  a  sum  of 
money  from  the  estate  left  by  the  famous  Dr.  Williams,  for  the 
maintenance  of  two  missionaries  among  the  Six  Nations  :  and  ha- 
ving entertained  a  very  great  esteem  of  ]\Ir.  Brainerd,  from  the 
opportunity  tliey  had  of  acquaintance  with  him  while  in  Boston, 
the  committee  entrusted  to  him  the  affair  of  finding  and  recom- 
mending the  persons  proper  to  be  employed  in  tliis  business."  Ac- 
cordingly he,   after   much    deliberation,    recommended  one  Mr. 


LIFE   OF  PRESIDENT  EDWAKDS.  2GD 

Spencer,  beioRging  to  Haddaiii,  his  native  town  ;  and  Mr.  Strong, 
belonging  to  this  tovMi,  Northampton ;  who  are  nndoiibtedly  well 
qnalified  persons,  of  good  abilities  and  learning,  and  of  pious  dis- 
positions. The  Commissioners,  On  his  recommendation,  accepted 
these  persons  ;  and  after  Mr.  Brainerd's  death,  sent  to  them ;  and 
they  went  do\ni  to  Boston,  and  accepted  the  mission.  But  the 
Commissioners  did  not  think  proper  immediately  to  send  them  forth 
among  the  Six  Nations  :  but  ordered  them  to  go  and  Kve,  during 
the  winter,  in  New  Jersey  with  Mr.  John  Brainerd,  am^ong  the 
Christian  Indians,  there  to  follow  their  studies,  and  get  acquaint- 
ance with  the  manners  and  customs  of  Indians  ;  and  in  the  spring 
to  go  \\ith  ]\Ir.  Brainerd,  to  Susquehannah,  to  instruct  the  Indians 
on  that  river,  before  they  went  to  the  Six  Nations.  Accordingly 
they  went  and  lived  in  New  Jersey  ;  but  were  discouraged  as  to 
their  intended  journey  to  Susquehannah ;  for  they  understood  that 
the  Susquehannah  Indians  greatly  objected  against  entertaining  mis- 
sionaries, without  the  consent  of  the  Six  Nations,  (to  whom  they  are 
subject,  and  of  whom  they  stand  it  seems  in  great  fear ;)  and  insisted 
that  the  missionaries  should  go  to  the  Six  Nations  first.  There- 
fore, in  the  spring,  Messrs.  Spencer  and  Strong  returned  to  Bos- 
ton, for  new  orders  from  the  commissioners  :  who  saw  cause  to  or- 
der them  to  come  and  live  at  my  house,  till  the  time  of  an  appoint- 
ed interview  of  the  Governours  of  Boston  and  New  York  with  the 
Chiefs  of  the  Six  Nations,  at  Albany,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sum- 
mer ;  when  it  was  proposed  that  some,  that  should  go  to  Albany 
with  Gov.  Shirley,  should,  on  the  behalf  of  the  Commissioners, 
treat  with  the  Six  Nations  concerning  their  recei\ang  missionaries. 
IMessrs.  Spencer  and  Strong  did  accordingly ;  they  lived  witli  me 
in  the  summer,  and  went  to  Albany  at  the  time  of  the  treaty ;  and 
the  nation  of  the  Oneidas  in  particular,  w^ere  dealt  with  concerning 
receiving  these  missionaries ;  who  appeared  free  and  forward  in 
the  matter.  Messrs.  Spencer  and  Strong,  at  that  time,  got  some 
acquaintance  \\itli  the  Chiefs  of  the  tribe ;  who  appeared  fond  of 
them,  and  very  desirous  of  their  going  witli  them.  But  the  grand 
difficulty  then  in  the  way,  was  the  want  of  an  Interpreter;  which 
occasioned  their  not  going  \\ith  the  Indians  at  that  time,  but  return- 
ing again  to  New-England.  Mr.  Strong,  also,  was  taken  much 
out  of  health,  which  discouraged  him  from  entertaining  any 
thoughts  of  throwing  himself  into  the  fatigues  and  hardshi])s  of 
their  undertaking,  till  the  next  spring.  But  the  difficulty  of  the 
want  of  an  interpreter,  is  now  got  over;  a  very  good  one  has  been 
found;  and  Mr.  Spencer  was  ordained  on  the  14th  of  the  last 
month,  and  is  gone  with  the  interpreter,  to  go  to  the  country  of  the 
Oneidas,  about  ITO  miles  beyond  Albany,  and  about  130  miles 
distant  from  all  settlements  of  the  white  people. 

"It  is  a  thing,  that  has  a  favourable  aspect  on  the  design  of  pro- 
pagating the  Gospel  among  the  Indians,  that  many  of  late  have 


270  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

been  remarkably  spirited  to  promote  it,  and  liberally  to  open  their 
hands  in  order  to  it.  Mr.  Brainerd's  going  to  Boston  before  his 
death,  and  people  there  having  some  acquaintance  wdth  him,  and 
with  his  labours  and  success  among  the  Indians,  gave  occasion  to 
a  considerable  number  in  Boston,  men  of  good  substance  and  of 
the  best  character,  and  some  of  them  principal  men  in  the  town,  to 
form  themselves  into  a  Charitable  Society,  that  by  their  joint  en- 
deavours and  contributions,  they  might  promote  the  instruction  and 
spiritual  good  of  the  Indians ;  who  have  done  some  very  liberal 
things  for  the  Indians  in  New- Jersey,  and  also  for  the  Six  Nations. 
The  people  of  Northampton  have  also  had  their  hearts  remarka- 
bly opened,  to  contribute  to  the  maintenance  of  Mr.  Spencer's  In- 
terpreter ;  and  one  individual  at  Springfield,  has  been  moved  to 
devote  a  considerable  part  of  his  estate,  to  promote  the  propaga- 
tion  of  the  Gospel  among  the  Six  Nations. 

*'  As  to  my  writing  against  Arminianism ;  I  have  hitherto  been 
remarkably  hindered ;  so  that  probably  it  will  be  a  considerable 
time  before  I  shall  have  any  thing  ready  for  the  press;  but  do  in- 
tend, God  allowing  and  assisting,  to  prosecute  that  design  :  and  I 
desire  your  prayers  for  the  Divine  assistance  in  it.  The  books  you 
sent  me,  will  be  a  great  help  to  me  ;  I  would  on  no  account  have 
been  without  them. 

*'  I  condole  with  you  and  i\Irs.  Erskine,  on  the  loss  of  your  no- 
ble and  excellent  father ;  which  is  doubtless  a  great  loss  to  the 
Church  of  God.  But  the  glorious  King  of  Zion,  who  was  dead,  is 
alive,  and  lives  forevermore,  and  can  raise  up  others  in  exalted 
stations  to  favour  Zion ;  and  seems  to  be  so  doing  at  this  day,  by 
things  you  give  an  account  of  in  your  letter.  I  have  been  the 
subject  of  an  afflictive  dispensation  of  late,  tending  to  teach  me 
how  to  sympathize  with  the  afflicted ;  which  I  think  I  mentioned 
in  my  last  letter  to  you,  viz.  the  death  of  my  second  daughter,  the 
last  February. 

"  Please  to  present  my  most  affectionate   and  respectful  saluta- 
tions to  your  dear  consort.     That  I  and  mine  may  be  remember- 
ed in  your  and  her  prayers,  is  the  request  of 
"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 
"  Friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

Letter  from  Mr.  Willison  to  Mr.  Edwards. 

"  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards. 

''Dundee,  March  17,  1749. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Brother, 

"  I  thank  you  for  yours  of  October  last,  with  your  two  Sermons, 
which  Mr.  M'Laurin  sent  me ;  which  two  Sermons  give  me  cause 
to  sing  of  mercy  as  well  as  of  judgment,  that  as  one  shining  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  271 

successful  youth  is  laid  aside  from  labouring  in  the  Gospel,  ano- 
ther is  sent  forth  to  it.  Indeed,  worthy  Mr.  Brainerd  was  one 
among  a  thousand,  for  carrying  the  Gospel  among  the  heathen,  as 
appears  by  the  account  you  give  of  him  in  your  Sermon,  and  by 
his  Journals  which  have  been  published  here,  and  prefaced  by  Dr. 
Doddridge,  and  dedicated  by  him  to  the  Society  at  Edinburgh. 
We  must  be  silent ;  seeing  He  who  hath  removed  him  is  holy,  just 
and  wise.  We  must  also  lay  our  hands  on  our  mouths,  with  res- 
pect to  the  loss  of  our  great  and  eminent  men,  such  as  Dr.  Watts, 
Dr.  Colman,  Mr.  Cowper,  and  others.  But  O,  it  is  no  loss  to  be 
absent  from  the  body,  to  them  who  are  present  with  the  Lord. 
Great  need  have  w^e  to  cry  to  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard,  to  send 
forth  others  in  their  room ;  it  is  easy  for  him  to  do  it,  from  places 
we  little  expect.  These  are  hopeful  and  promising  accounts, 
which  you  have  from  your  correspondents  in  Scotland,  mentioned 
in  your  letter.  May  they  all  hold  true,  and  be  the  forerunners  of 
greater  things,  and  the  dawnings  of  the  glory  of  the  latter  days.  I 
may  add  to  them,  the  rising  of  a  burning  and  shining  light  of  a 
Church  of  England  minister,  in  Dr.  Doddridge's  neighbourhood, 
viz.  Mr.  Hervey  ;  for  he  dates  his  writings  from  Weston  Flavel, 
near  Northampton.  He  has  lately  published  two  volumes  of  Med- 
itations on  all  kinds  of  subjects,  in  a  most  orthodox,  calvinistic  and 
evangelical  strain,  in  which  he  takes  all  kinds  of  occasions  of  exalt- 
ing and  commending  his  glorious  Master,  Christ,  in  a  most  rhetori- 
cal w^ay,  and  in  a  style  I  think  inimitable,  and  in  the  most  moving 
expressions,  so  that  it  is  not  easy  to  read  him  without  tears.  He 
freely  taxes  his  brethren  of  that  church,  for  departing  from  the 
doctrines  of  grace,  and  of  justification  by  imputed  righteousness, 
etc.  which  were  taught  by  the  Reformers,  and  their  own  articles 
and  homily.  And  notwithstanding  this  uncommon  freedom,  which 
he  uses  with  his  brethren,  great  men,  etc.  never  had  any  books 
such  a  run  in  England,  as  his  ;  for  in  a  year  and  an  half's  time,  or 
thereabouts,  there  are  five  editions  of  them  published  at  London, 
and  still  they  are  greedily  bought  and  read,  especially  by  persons  of 
distinction;  the  style  being  a  little  too  high  and  poetical  for  the 
vulgar.  His  name  is  James  Hervey,  A.  B.  Some  say  he  is  of 
noble  descent,  from  the  Earl  of  Bristol ;  but  I  am  not  sure  of  this. 
It  is  thought  he  is  the  man  that  Dr.  Doddridge  points  at,  in  the  life 
of  Col.  Gardiner,  pages  37,  38.  It  looks  w^ell,  that  so  many  in 
England  should  become  fond  of  sound  evangelical  writings.  No 
doubt  the  books  may  have  reached  Boston  by  this  time.  Let  us 
therefore  still  wait  and  pray  in  hope.  I  should  be  glad  to  do  any 
thing  in  my  power,  for  promoting  the  Concert  for  United  Prayer, 
and  Oh  that  it  were  spread  both  far  and  near  ;  it  would  be  a  token 
of  a  general  Revival  of  religion  to  be  fast  approaching.  I  know 
nothing  that  hath  a  greater  tendency  to  promote  the  aforesaid  hap- 
py Concert,  than  the  book  you  lately  published    about  it,  (a  copy 


2r2  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWABDS. 

whereof  you  sent  me,  for  which  I  humbly  thank  you.)  I  wish  it 
were  universally  spread,  for  I  botli  love  and  admire  the  perform- 
ance upon  subjects  so  uncommon.  I  approve  your  remarks  on 
Mr.  Lowman.  Kis  reason  for  beginning  Antichrist's  reign  so  late 
as  the  year  756,  is  weak,  viz.  because  then  King  Pepin  invested 
the  Pope  in  his  temporal  dominion  over  that  province  in  Italy,  call- 
ed St.  Peter's  Patrimony — when  it  is  evident  that  the  Pope  had 
usurped  his  t}Tannical  dominion  over  Christ's  church,  long  before, 
which  is  the  main  ground  of  his  being  called  Antichrist ;  yea,  the 
Pope's  usurped  povvcr  was  greater  before  King  Pepin's  time,  than 
it  is  at  this  day — as  for  instance,  in  Pope  Symmachus'  time,  anno 
501  ;  in  Pope  Hormisdas'  time,  anno  516;  in  Pope  Boniface  3d's 
time,  anno  606  ;  in  Pope  Constantine's  time,  anno  713.  Yea,*Mr. 
Lowman  himself  gives  a  dreadful  instance  of  the  Pope's  tj^anny 
and  usurpation,  both  over  the  church  and  the  Emperor,  in  page  97 
of  his  book,  vrhich  happened  anno  726,  thirt}^  years  before  he  be- 
gins Antichrist's  reign  ;  when  Pope  Gregory  2d  excommunicated 
the  Emperor  Leo,  for  ordering  images  to  be  removed  out  of  the 
churches,  and  forbad  obedience  or  paying  of  taxes  to  him.  Was 
not  Antichrist's  reign  far  advanced  by  that  time  ?  And  we  have 
several  instances  of  the  Pope's  tyranny,  similar  to  this,  recorded 
by  historians,  before  that  which  Mr.  Lowman  mentions;  which 
more  directly  denominate  him  Antichrist,  than  his  temporal  doings 
in  Italy.  We  see  hovv  easy  it  is  for  the  best  of  writers,  to  slip  into 
mistakes  and  wrong  schem.es.  I  agree  with  you,  that  Antichrist's 
fall  will  be  gradual,  in  the  way  you  explain  it. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  Arminianism  growing  in  New  England. 
But  I  rejoice  to  hear  of  Gov.  Belcher's  zeal  for  religion  in  New 
Jersey;  may  the  Lord  spare  him  and  bless  him.  As  also  I  am 
glad  to  hear  of  the  hopeful  prospect  of  the  Gospel's  growing  among 
the  Six  Nations  of  Indians  ;  and  of  such  a  youth  as  Mr.  Spencer 
being  sent  among  them  ;  may  the  Lord  prosper  him  as  he  did  Mr. 
Brainerd.  I  sympathise  with  you  under  that  affliction  of  your 
daughter's  death ;  but  it  is  comfortable  she  was  helped  so  to  live 
aud  die,  as  to  afford  such  grounds  of  hope  concerning  her.  And 
though  she  was  the  flower  of  your  family,  yet  the  remembering  of 
the  gracious  hand,  that  painted  the  flower,  will  engage  your  worthy 
spouse  and  you  to  a  becoming  silence,  like  Aaron.  As  he  will  do 
what  he  will,  let  us  join  and  say  always.  Let  his  iviJl  be  done.  1 
would  Klin  be  at  this  in  my  own  case,  may  the  Lord  help  me  to 
more  of  christian  submission  and  resignation.  I  am  now  entered 
into  the  69th  year  of  my  age,  and  fallen  under  several  disti-esses, 
w^hereby  I  have  been  shaken  over  the  grave  these  many  months 
past,  and  am  laid  aside  from  preaching.  May  the  Lord  assist  me 
in'my  preparation  for  the  dissolution  of  this  tabernacle.  I  find  it 
no  easy  matter  to  die,  and  to  die  in  faith,  and  to  die  hke  Simeon 
Avith  Jesus  in  his  arms.       I  vej.7  much  need  your  prayers  for  me 


UIFE    OV    PRESIDENT    ED\VAllD5j>  >-^%^ 

I  am  glad  to  hear,  dear  brother,  that  your  parents  are  both  alive, 
and  that  they  hold  the  abilities  of  both  body  and  mind  so  remarka- 
bly at  so  great  an  age,  and  particularly  that  your  father,  at  seventy- 
nine  years  of  age  and  now  near  eighty,  performs  the  whole  of  his 
ministerial  work  so  constantly,  without  feeling  it  burdensome,  and 
was  able  to  travel  forty  miles  to  see  you ;  he  is  indeed  a  wonder  of 
his  age,  and  w^ould  be  reckoned  so  in  this  country,  where  few  mi- 
nisters come  near  to  that  age  and  vigour.  May  the  Lord  still  spare 
him,  with  your  mother,  and  make  them  still  flourishing  in  old  age ; 
may  they  be  blessed  with  much  of  God's  gracious  presence  ;  and 
with  the  consolations  and  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  in  their  aged  and  de- 
dining  days.  I  still  kindly  remember  your  worthy  spouse  and 
children  remaining,  and  pray  they  may  long  be  continued  for  com- 
forts to  you,  and  you  continued  for  a  blessing  to  them,  to  your  flock* 
and  to  many  others,  as  you  already  have  been. 
"  I  remain,  Rev.  and  dear  brother, 

"  Your  most  aflectionate  brother,  and  serv't, 
"  In  our  Lord, 

"J.    WiLLISON." 

'*P.  S.  The  Rev.  Mr.  Whitefield  came  to  Scotland  in  Septem- 
ber last,  and  preached  about  two  months  in  and  about  Edinburgh 
and  Glasgow.  But  some  brethren  who  employed  him,  bemg  chal- 
lenged for  it  in  Synods  and  Presbyteries,  and  debates  arising  there- 
upon, Mr.  Whitefield  returned  to  London.  To  give  a  view  of  the 
substance  of  these  debates,  and  what  passed  thereupon  in  the  Sy- 
nod of  Glasgow^,  I  have  sent  you  herewith  a  printed  pamphlet  con- 
taining the  same  with  two  other  books,  as  a  small  acknowledgment 
©f  your  favours." 

The  three  following  letters  went  in  the  same  packet  to  Scotland. 
The  rehgious  intelligence,  which  they  communicated,  will  be  found 
highly  interesting  at  the  present  day.  In  the  first  of  the  three,  is 
the  earliest  allusion,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Edwards,  which  I  have  met 
with,  to  a  most  painful  subject ;  the  mention  of  which  I  have  pur- 
posely forborne,  that  all  which  relates  to  it  may  be  presented  toge- 
ther. 

Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. 

'' JVorthampton,  May  20,  1749. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  The  day  before  yesterday,  I  received  your  letter,  of  February 
14th,  with  the  pacquet,  containing  the  pamphlets  you  mention  in 
your  letter  :  for  which  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  you.  I  have  not 
vet  had  opportunity  to  read  these  books,  but  promise  myself  much 
'    Vol.  I.  35 


274  rJi£    OF    PKESIDENT    Ein^ARDif. 

entertainment  by  them,  from  the  occasions  on  which  they  were  writ- 
ten, and  the  subject  they  are  upon.  The  last  letter  I  received  from 
you  before  this,  was  dated  April  6,  1748,  so  that  I  suppose  the  two 
letters  you  say  you  wrote  to  me,  since  those  which  I  acknowledge 
the  receipt  of,  have  miscarried,  which  I  much  regret,  as  I  much 
value  what  comes  from  your  hand. 

"  In  one  of  your  last  letters  which  came  to  hand,  you  desire  to 
be  particularly  informed  concerning  the  state  of  religion,  in  these 
parts  of  the  world,  and  particularly  concerning  the  Mission  to  the 
Indians,  and  the  infant  College  in  New  Jersey,  As  to  the  affair  of 
preaching  the  gospel  to  the  Indians,  Mr,  Spencer  went,  the  last  fall, 
far  into  the  western  wilderness;  to  the  Oneidas,  one  of  the  tribes 
of  Indians  called  the  Six  Nations,  living  on  Susquehannah  River^ 
towards  the  head  of  the  river  ;  to  a  place  cahed  by  the  Indians 
Onohohqumiga,  about  180  miles  south-west  from  Albany  on 
Hudson's  River,  where  he  continued  through  the  winter;  and  went 
through  many  difficulties  and  hardships,  with  little  or  no  success, 
through  the  failing  of  his  Interpreter ;  who  was  a  woman  that  had 
formorly  been  a  captive  among  the  Caghnawauga  Indians  in  Cana- 
da, who  speak  the  same  language  with  those  Oneidas,  excepting 
some  small  variation  of  dialect.  She  went  with  her  husband,  an 
Englishman,  and  is  one  of  the  people  we  here  call  Separatists: 
who  showed  the  spirit  he  was  of  there  in  that  wilderness,  beyond 
what  was  known  before.  He  differed  with  and  opposed  ^Ir.  Spen- 
cer in  his  measures,  and  had  an  ill  influence  on  his  wife;  who  I 
fear  was  very  unfaithful,  refusing  to  interpret  for  ]Mr.  Spencer  more 
than  one  discourse  in  a  week,  a  sermon  upon  the  Sabbath;  and  ut- 
terly declined  assisting  him  in  discoursing  and  conversing  with  the 
Indians  in  the  week  time.  And  her  interpretations  on  the  Sabbath 
were  performed  very  unfaithfully,  as  at  last  appeared.  So  that 
Mr.  Spencer  came  aw^ay  in  discouragement  in  the  spring,  and  re- 
turned to  Boston,  and  gave  the  Corporation  there,  who  employed 
him,  an  account  of  his  unexpected  difficulties  and  disappointments ; 
and  became  obliged  to  them  to  wait  three  months,  to  see  if  they 
could  procure  a  fellow  missionary,  and  another  interpreter,  to  go 
with  him.  to  the  Indians;  which  I  believe  is  not  much  expected. 
If  these  are  not  obtained  within  the  hmited  time,  Mr.  Spencer 
is  free  from  any  farther  engagements  to  them.  Mr.  Spencer  is 
now  preaching  at  Elizabethtowii  in  New  Jersey,  in  the  pulpit  of 
the  late  IMr.  Dickinson  ;  and  I  believe  is  likely  to  setde  there.  He 
is  a  person  of  very  promising  qualifications  :  and  \\-ill  hopefully  in 
some  measure  make  up  the  great  loss,  that  people  have  sustained  by 
the  death  of  their  former  pastor. 

"  As  to  the  mission  in  New  Jersey,  we  have  from  time  to  time 
had  comfortable  accounts  of  it ;  and  Mr.  John  Brainerd,  who  has 
the  care  of  the  congregation  of  Christian  Indians  there,  was  aboui 
three  weeks  ago,  at  my  house ;  and  informed  me  of  the  increase 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  275 

of  his  congregation,  and  of  their  being  added  to,  froin  time  to  time, 
l)y  the  coming  of  Indians  from  distant  places,  and  settling  in  the 
Indian  town  at  Cranben-y,  for  the  sake  of  hearing  the  gospel;  and 
of  something  of  a  work  of  awakening  being  all  along  carried  on, 
among  tiie  Indians  to  this  day ;  and  of  some  of  the  new  comers  be- 
ing awakened ;  and  of  there  being  instances,  from  time  to  time,  of 
hopeful  conversion  among  them  ;  and  of  a  general  good  and  pious 
behaviour  of  the  professing  Indians.  But  he  gave  an  account  also, 
of  some  trouble  the  Indians  meet  widi,  from  some  of  the  white  peo- 
ple ;  and  particularly  from  Mr.  I\Iaurice,  the  Chief  Justice  of  the 
Province,  a  professed  Deist ;  who  is  sueing  them  foi-  their  lands, 
inider  pretext  of  a  will,  made  by  their  former  king;  which  was  un- 
doubtedly forged.  However  he  is  a  man  of  such  craft  and  influ- 
ence, that  it  is  not  known  how  the  matter  will  issue. 

"  I  have  heard  nothing  new,  that  is  very  remarkable  concerning 
the  College  in  New  Jersey.  It  is  in  its  infancy ;  there  has  been  consi- 
derable difficulty  about  settling  their  Ciiarler.  Gov.  Belcher,  ^vho 
gave  the  Charter,  is  willing  to  encourage  and  pi-om.ote  the  College 
to  iiis  utmost ;  but  differs  in  his  opinion  concerning  \he  Constitution, 
which  will  tend  most  to  its  prosperity,  from  some  of  the  principal 
ministers  that  have  been  concerned  in  founding  the  society.  He 
insists  upon  it  that  the  Governour,  for  the  time  being,  and  lour  of  His 
Majesty's  Council  for  the  Province,  should  always  be  of  the  Cor- 
poration of  Trustees;  and  that  the  Governour  should  always  be 
the  President  of  the  Corporation.  The  ministers  are  all  very  wil- 
ling that  the  present  Governoin*,  who  is  a  religious  man,  should  be 
in  this  standing ;  but  their  difficulty  is  with  respect  to  future  Gov- 
ernours,  who  they  suppose  are  as  likely  to  be  men  of  no  religion 
and  Deists,  as  otherwise.  However,  so  the  matter  is  setded,  to  tb.e 
great  uneasiness  of  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent  in  particular,  who  it  is 
feared  will  have  no  further  concern  with  the  College  on  this  ac- 
count. Mr.  Burr,  the  President  of  the  College,  is  a  man  of  religion 
iind  singular  learning,  and  I  hope  the  College  vrill  liourish  under 
his  care. 

I  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  in  commimicating  to  others, 
in  various  parts,  the  pleasing  accounts  you,  and  my  other  corres- 
pondents in  Scotland,  gave  me  last  year  of  things  of  promising 
aspect  on  the  interest  of  religion,  on  your  side  of  the  ocean  :  which 
have  been  very  affecting  to  pious  ministers  and  people  in  New- 
England,  and  also  in  the  provinces  of  New-York  and  New-Jersey ; 
and  hope  some  considerahle  good  has  been  done  by  such  tidings ; 
particularly  in  animating  many  in  the  duty  of  extraordinary,  united 
prayer  for  a  general  Revival  of  religion,  and  promoting  the  Concert 
for  prayer  proposed  from  Scotland  ;  which  prevails  more  and  more 
in  these  parts  of  the  world,  v.iiich,  togedier  vrith  some  other  diings 
in  some  places,  ai'e  cause  of  thankfulness,  and  bode  well  to  the  in- 


Zib  I.IFfi    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDs. 

terests  of  Zion,  (of  which  I  have  given  a  more  particular  account 
in  my  letters  to  Mr.  IM'Laurin,  Mr.  Robe  and  Mr.  M'Culioch, 
sent  with  this,)  though  it  be  in  general  a  very  dead  time  as  to  re- 
ligion, and  a  tiirne  of  the  prevailing  of  all  manner  of  iniquity. 

*'  I  shall  send  orders  to  Boston,  that  one  of  my  books  on  I\Ir, 
Brainerd's  life  may  be  sent  to  you  with  this  letter;  if  any  of  them 
are  ready,  as  I  hope  they  are,  or  will  be,  very  speedily. 

"  I  have  nothing  very  comfortable  to  inform  you  of  concerning 
the  present  state  of  religion  in  this  place.  A  very  great  difficulty 
has  arisen  between  my  people,  relating  to  Qualifications  for  com- 
munion at  the  Lord's  table,  jMy  honoured  grandfather  Stoddard, 
my  predecessor  in  the  ministry  over  this  church,  strenuously  main- 
tained the  Lord's  Supper  to  be  a  converting  ordinance  ;  and  urged 
all  to  come,  who  were  not  of  scandalous  life,  though  they  knew 
themselves  to  be  unconverted.  1  formerly  conformed  to  his  prac- 
tice ;  but  I  have  had  difficulties  with  respect  to  it,  which  have  been 
long  increasing ;  till  I  dared  no  longer  to  proceed  in  the  former 
way ;  which  has  occasioned  great  uneasiness  among  my  people, 
and  has  filled  all  the  country  with  noise,  which  has  obliged  me  to 
WTite  something  on  the  subject,  which  is  now  in  the  press.  I  know 
not  but  this  affair  will  issue  in  a  separation  between  me  and  my 
people.  I  desire  your  prayers,  that  God  would  guide  me  in  every 
step  of  this  affair.  My  wife  joins  with  me  in  respectful  salutations 
to  you  and  your  consort. 

"I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  obliged  and  affectionate 

"  Brother  and  servant, 
"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

Letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch. 

''  Korthampton,  May  23,  1740. 

'^  Rev.  and  dear  Brother, 

"  The  last  letter  I  received  from  }ou  was  dated  Feb.  10,  174B, 
to  which  I  wrote  an  answer  the  latter  end  of  last  sunmier;  which 
I  suppose  you  received,  because  I  perceive  by  letters  sent  me  this 
spring,  by  some  others  of  my  correspondents,  your  neighbours, 
they  had  received  letters  I  sent  to  them  at  the  same  time,  and  in 
the  same  packet.  Your  letters  to  me  have-  been  very  acceptable ; 
T  should  be  glad  to  receive  them  oftener. 

''  The  letter  I  last  received  from  you,  and  others  that  came 
v%ith  it,  were  peculiarly  agreeable,  on  account  of  the  good  news 
they  contained  concerning  Messrs.  West  and  Littleton,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Canterbury,  some  in  the  royal  I'amily,  the  Stadtholder, 
^c.  These  things  I  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  commu- 
nicate to  others;  and  they  have  been  very  entertaining,  and  I  hope 
mofitaljle  to  many.     I  was  at  the  pains  to  extract  from  all  the  let- 


LiFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  2t7 

lers  I  received  at  that  time,  those  things  which  appeared  with  a 
favourable  aspect  on  the  interest  of  rehgion  in  the  world,  and  to 
draAV  various  copies  to  send  to  different  parts,  to  such  as  I  suppos- 
ed would  be  most  likely  to  be  entertained  and  improved  by  them, 
and  to  do  good  with  them,  and  I  believe  they  have  been  of  great 
benefit,  particularly  to  excite  and  encourage  God's  people,  in  the 
great  duty  of  praying  for  the  coming  of  Christ's  kingdom,  and  to 
promote  extraordinary,  united  prayer  in  the  method  proposed  in 
the  Memorial  from  Scotland.  I  read  these  articles  of  good  news 
to  my  own  congregation,  and  also  to  the  association  of  ministers  to 
which  I  belong,  when  met  on  one  of  the  quarterly  seasons  for 
prayer ;  and  read  them  occasionally  to  many  others  ;  and  sent  a 
copy  of  one  of  the  forementioned  abstracts  to  Connecticut,  which 
was  carried  into  various  parts  of  that  government,  and  shown  to, 
several  ministers  there.  I  sent  one  to  Mv.  Hall  of  Sutton,  a  pious 
minister  about  the  middle  of  this  province ;  who,  according  to  my 
desire,  communicated  it  to  odier  ministers,  and  I  suppose,  to  his 
people.  I  sent  a  copy  to  IMr.  Rogers  of  Kittery,  I  suppose  about 
seventy  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Boston;  who  in  reply,  wTote  to 
me,  and  in  his  letter  says  as  follows ;  "  Yours  of  the  22d  Dec. 
came  not  to  my  hand  till  the  19th  of  this:  with  which  I  was  well 
pleased,  and  had  some  sweet  sense  of  the  sovereign  free  grace  of 
God  in  the  instances  you  mentioned,  with  some  going  forth  of 
heart  after  further  displays  of  it,  in  the  mighty  and  noble  of  our 
Ration,  and  the  great  ones  of  our  own  country;  and,  indeed,  that 
the  kingdom  of  our  exalted  Redeemer  might  prevail  in  all  the 
world.  And,  dear  Sir,  I  am  full  in  the  belief,  that  so  many  of  the 
Lord's  people  agreeing  upon  a  time  to  unite  in  prayer  for  the  pour- 
ing out  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  coming  of  the  Redeemer's  king- 
dom is  from  the  Lord,  and  cannot  but  hope  the  day  draws  near» 
when  he  will  pour  out  water  upon  the  thirsty,  and  floods  upon  the 
dry  ground ;  as  also,  that  all  his  ministers  and  ijeople,  who  are  en- 
gaged in  so  delightful  a  work,  for  so  noble  an  end,  will  give  him  no 
rest,  till  he  shall  make  his  Jerusalem  a  quiet  habitation,  a  name 
and  a  praise  in  the  earth." 

"  I  sent  another  copy  into  New-Jersey  to  Mr.  John  Brainerd. 
missionary  to  the  Indians  there,  with  a  desire  thr.t  he  would  com- 
municate it  to  others  as  he  thought  would  be  most  serviceable. 

"  He  writes  in  answer,  iNlarch  4,  1748,  as  follows:  "J  received 
yours  of  Jan.  12,  on  Sabbath  morning  Feb.  5,  and  desire  to  ac- 
knowledge your  kindness  with  much  thankfulness  and  gratitude. 
It  w^as  a  great  rescusitant,  as  w^ell  as  encouragement,  to  me;  and  I 
trust,  has  been  so  to  many  others,  in  these  parts,  who  are  concern- 
ed for  the  prosperhy  of  Zion.  The  next  Tuesday  after,  (as  per- 
haps. Sir,  you  may  remember,)  was  the  quarterly  day  appointed 
for  Extraordinary  Prayer  :  upon  which  I  called  my  people  togedi- 
er,  and  gave  them  information  of  the  most  notable  things  contained 


2TS  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    E»WARDS» 

in  your  letter.  And  since  I  have  endeavoured  to  communicate  the 
same  to  several  of  my  neighbouring  ministers,  and  sundry  private 
christians,  as  I  had  opportunity.  I  have  also  thought  it  my  duty  to 
send  an  extract,  or  rather  a  copy  of  it,  to  Gov.  Belcher.  I  have 
likewise  (for  want  of  tmie  to  transcribe,)  sent  the  original  to  Phi- 
ladelphia by  a  careful  hand,  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Gilbert  Tennent 
might  have  the  perusal  of  it;  where  a  copy  was  taken,  and  the 
original  safely  returned  to  me  again.  I  cannot  but  hope  that  this 
letter,  as  it  contains  many  things  wherein  the  power  and  goodness 
of  God  do  appear  in  a  most  conspicuous  manner,  will  be  greatly 
serviceable  in  stirring  up  the  people  of  God  in  these  parts,  and  en- 
couraging their  hearts  to  seek  his  face  and  favour,  and  to  cry 
mightily  to  him,  for  the  further  out-pouring  of  a  gracious  Spirit  upon 
his  Church  in  the  world.  For  my  part,  I  think  the  remarkable 
things  w^hich  your  letter  contains,  might  be  sufficient  to  put  new^ 
life  into  any  one  who  is  not  past  feeling ;  and  as  a  means  to  excite 
a  spirit  of  Prayer  and  Praise,  in  all  those  who  are  not  buried  in 
ignorance,  or  under  the  power  of  a  lethargic  stupor.  And  it  is 
looked  upon,  by  those  vrhom  I  have  had  opportunity  to  converse 
with,  whether  ministers  or  private  christians,  that  what  God  has 
done  is  matter  of  great  thankfulness  and  praise,  and  might  well 
encourage  his  people  to  Hft  up  the  hand  of  Prayer,  and  be  instant 
therein." 

"  IMr.  Davenport,  minister  of  a  cliurch  in  Elizabethtown  in  New 
Jersey,  writes  thus  upon  it,  in  a  letter  dated,  April  1,  1749,  "I 
thank  you  for  sending  your  letter  to  our  Brainerd  open,  that  I 
might  see  it,  which  I  took  a  copy  of;  and  have  found  it  again  and 
again  refreshing  and  animating.  I  read  it  to  the  ministers  who  met 
at  my  house  for  prayer,  on  the  first  Tuesday  of  February,  and  sent 
it  afterv^^ards  to  Long  Island  :  Mr.  Rivel  took  a  copy  of  it  and  read 
it  in  his  congregation  on  the  Island." 

"  I  hope,  dear  Sir,  these  things  will  encourage  you  to  continue 
your  correspondence,  and  to  go  on  to  give  me  information  of  what- 
ever appears  in  your  parts  of  the  world,  favourable  to  the  interests 
of  the  kingdom  of  Christ.  It  \\ill  not  only  be  entertaining  to  me  ; 
but  I  shall  endeavour,  whenever  I  receive  such  tidings,  to  commu- 
nicate it  for  the  entertainment  and  profit  of  God's  people,  as  I  have 
opportunity.  I  must  refer  you,  dear  Sir,  to  my  letters  to  other 
correspondents  in  your  neighbourhood,  for  other  particulars  rela- 
ting to  the  state  of  religion  in  these  parts  of  the  world.  And  hope, 
v^-hen  you  are  before  the  Throne  of  Grace,  you  will  not  forget 
"  Your  very  affectionate  friend, 

*'  And  ])rother  and  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  il^ 

Letter  to  .Mr.  Robe. 

*<  Xortham-pton,  May  23,  1749. 

•*  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Mr.  M'Laiirin,  in  a  letter  I  received  from  iiim  the  last  week, 
dated  March  10th,  1749,  informs  me  of  a  letter  you  had  wTitten 
to  me,  sent  to  him  ;  which  ho  had  taken  care  of.  This  letter,  by 
some  means  or  other,  has  failed,  and  has  never  reached  me.  I  hi- 
tend  to  make  enquiry  after  it,  to  see  if  it  has  not  been  left  at  Bos- 
ton, and  forgotten  to  be  sent.  I  have  reason  to  hope,  (though  1 
have  not  received  your  letter,)  that  you  and  your  family  are  v.eH, 
because  Mr.  IM'Laurin  and  Mr.  Erskine,  (the  only  correspondents 
from  whom  I  have  received  letters  this  time,)  inform  me  of  nothing 
to  the  contrary. 

"As  to  the  present  state  of  religion  in  these  parts  of  the  world, 
it  is  in  the  general  very  dark  and  melancholy.  But  yet  there  are 
some  things,  which  appear  comfortable  and  hopeful ;  particularly, 
the  Concert  for  Extraordinary  Prayer  for  the  coming  of  Christ's 
kingdom,  is  spreading  and  prevailing — and  we  hear  of  avv'akenings 
and  Revivals  of  religion  in  some  places.  We  have  had  accounts, 
from  time  to  time,  of  rehgion's  being  in  a  flourishing  state,  in  the 
Indian  congregation  in  New-Jersey,  under  the  care  of  Mr.  John 
Brainerd;  of  the  congregation's  increasing,  by  the  access  of  In- 
dians from  distant  parts  ;  of  a  work  of  awakening  carried  on  among 
the  unconverted,  and  additions  made  to  the  number  of  the  hope- 
fully converted,  and  the  christian  behaviour  of  professors  there. 
uVIr.  Brainerd  was  at  my  house  a  little  while  ago,  and  represented 
this  to  be  the  present  state  of  things  in  that  congregation.  I  had  a  let- 
ter from  Mr.  Davenport,  (who  is  settled  nov;  as  a  minister  over  a 
congregation  belonging  to  Elizabethtown,  in  New-Jersey,)  dated 
April  1,  1749,  wherein  he  says  as  follows:  "Mr.  Lewis  told  me, 
that  there  has  been  a  remarkable  work  of  conviction  prevailing  in 
his  place,  ever  since  last  December.  I  think  he  spoke  of  about 
forty  under  soul  concern,  a  considerable  number  of  them  under 
strong  convictions,  and  some  hopefully  converted.  I  heard  lately, 
a  credible  account  of  a  remarkable  work  of  conviction  and  conver- 
sion, among  whites  and  negroes,  at  Hanover  in  Virginia,  under  the 
ministry  of  Mr.  Da\ies,  wTio  is  lately  setded  there,  and  has  the 
eharacter  of  a  very  ingenious  and  pious  young  man ;  whose  sup- 
port, in  his  preparation  for  service,  Mr.  Robinson*  contributed 
much,  if  not  mostly  to;  and  on  his  death  bed  gave  him  his 
books,  etc." 
upon  the  doctrines  of  Repentance   and  Conversion  ;    die  nature, 


*This  Mr.  Robinson  was  a  youn^  minister  of  eminent  gifts  and  graces  :  1 
think,  belonging  to  Pennsylvania,  but  had  some  time  preached,  with  great  siu-- 
ress.  in  Virginia,  in  variens  parts  ;  but  died  a  t'cw  years  ago,  in  his  youtK. 


280  l.liE    UF    PRESIDENT    EUtVARDS, 

"  Mr.  Buell,  of  East-Hampton,  on  Long  Island,  was  here  last 
week,  and  gave  me  an  account  of  a  very  considerable  work  of  awaken- 
ing at  this  time  in  his  congregation,  especially  among  the  young  peo- 
ple ;  and  also  of  a  yet  greater  work  at  Bridgehampton,  under  the 
ministry  of  one  I\lr.  Brown,  a  very  pious  and  prudent  young  man, 
lately  settled  there.  These  congregations  are  both  pretty  large. 
He  also  gave  an  account  of  religion's  continuing  in  a  very  pros- 
perous state,  at  a  part  of  Huntington,  another  town  on  Long  Isl- 
and, where  was  a  great  and  general  awakening,  last  year. 

"  An  Association  of  ministers,  between  this  and  Boston,  seem  of 
late  to  have  applied  themselves  somewhat  earnestly,  to  invent 
means  for  promoting  religion.  The  following  is  a  copy  of  some- 
thing they  have  agreed  upon  for  this  end,  as  it  was  sent  to  me,  by 
a  minister  that  lives  that  way. 

"  The  sum  and  substance  of  the  answers,  given  by  the  Associa- 
tion, to  this  question.  What  things  shall  be  done  by  us,  for  pre- 
venting the  awful  threatening  degeneracy  and  backsliding  in  reli- 
gion, in  the  present  day  ? 

"  These,  we  apprehend,  may  be  reduced  to  the  following  heads, 
viz.  Those  that  respect  ourselves  personally  ;  those  which  concera 
the  Association,  as  such  ;  and  those  which  relate  to  our  people,  in 
our  respective  churches  and  congregations. 

"I.  As  to  what  respects  ourselves  personally. 

"  1 .  We  ought  surely  to  get  a  deep  and  affecting  sense  of  this  : 
Whether  there  is  not  in  ourselves  defection,  and  great  danger  of 
further  degeneracy ;  for  otherwise,  we  shall  with  little  heartiness 
undertake,  or  earnestness  endeavour  after,  reformation. 

"  2,  We  are  not  to  think  it  amiss,  that  we  ourselves  be  excited 
to  look,  with  a  proper  attention  and  concern,  into  our  o^\^l  estate, 
into  our  own  experiences  in  the  di\ine  life,  and  into  what  httle  pro- 
ficiency we  make,  or  declension  we  fall  into,  ourselves. 

"  3.  We  must  l3y  all  means  see  to  it,  that  we  be  sound  and  clear 
in  the  great  doctrines  of  the  Gopel,  which  are  the  life  of  our  holy 
religion :  (we  here  intend,  those  doctrines  which  are  exhibited  in 
our  excellent  Westminster  Catechism  and  Confession  of  Faith  :) 
and  that  we  all  boldly  and  impartially  appear  in  the  defence  there- 
of, at  the  same  time  we  must  take  heed  and  beware  of  the  danger- 
ous errors  which  many  have  run  into ;  particularly  the  Arminian 
and  Neonomian  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  Antinomian  and  Enthu- 
siastical  on  the  other. 

*'  4.  We  must  be  very  faithful  in  every  part  of  our  ministerial 
works,  and  make  conscience  to  magnify  our  office.  In  a  particular 
manner,  we  must  take  good  heed  to  our  preaching  ;  that  it  be  not 
only  sound,  but  instructive,  savoury,  spiritual,  very  awakening  and 
searching,  well  adapted  to  the  times  and  seasons  which  pass  over 
us ;  labouring  earnestly  herein.     We  m«st  therefore  dwell  much 


LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  281 

necessity  and  evidence  thereof;  and  much  urge  the  duly  of  self- 
examination,  and  open  the  deceits  of  the  heart ;  bringing  the  un- 
converted under  the  work  of  the  law,  that  they  may  be  prepared 
to  embrace  the  offer  of  the  Gospel.  Moral  duties  must  be  treated 
of  in  an  evangelical  strain ;  and  we  must  give  unto  every  one  his 
portion,  and  not  shrink  from  it,  under  the  notion  of  prudence :  par- 
ticularly, in  the  important  duty  of  reproving  sinners  of  all  sorts,  be 
they  who  they  will.  Again,  we  must  not  be  iiighty  in  our  private 
Conference  with  souls,  aud  examining  candidates  for  the  commu- 
nion, or  other  special  privileges  ;  and  we  must  carefully  and  wisely 
suit  our  endeavours  to  the  several  ages  and  conditions  of  persons, 
the  elder  and  younger ;  and  in  a  very  particular  manner,  we  must 
set  ourselves  to  promote  religion  among  our  young  people.  And, 
in  a  word,  we  must  see  vvhether  we  are  animated  to  all  these  things 
by  the  grace  of  God  in  us. 

"  5.  We  are  impartially  to  see  what  evils  are  to  be  found  among 
ourselves,  and  remove  them.  Let  us  be  seriously  thoughtful, 
whether  (among  our  defects)  we  have  not  been,  in  some  respect  or 
other,  the  blameable  means  of  discouragement  to  those  who  have 
been  under  religious  concern ;  or  whether  we  have  not  given 
strength  and  boldness  to  the  ungodly,  when  we  have  been  testify- 
ing against  the  extravagances  and  disorders  of  the  late  times. 

"  6.  We  must  be  conscientiously  exemplary  in  our  whole  beha- 
viour and  conversation.  It  is  necessary  that  we  be  serious  and 
grave,  as  what  highly  becomes  Gospel  bishops.  And  especially, 
we  must  be  very  watchful  over  our  frame  and  conduct  on  the 
Lord's  day.  We  must  therefore  look  well  to  our  sabbatizing,  both 
at  home  and  abroad,  both  before  our  own  and  other  people.  Our 
example  is  of  vast  consequence,  in  magnifying  our  office  before 
recommended. 

"  7.  We  ought  to  stir  up  the  gifts  which  are  in  us,  and  to  grow 
more  and  more,  according  to  the  sacred  injunction,  2  Tim.  i.  6. 

"  8.  We  should  follow  all  our  endeavours  with  fervent  prayer  to 
God  ;  especially  our  labours  in  preaching  and  teaching  :  the  seed 
of  the  word  is  to  be  steeped  in  tears. 

"  n.  As  to  what  concerns  the  Association  as  such. 

"  1.  W^e  must  lay  aside  disgusts  one  with  another,  and  study 
brotherly  love,  that  it  may  revive  and  continue,  we  must  endeavour 
to  be  as  near  as  we  can  of  one  mind,  and  go  on  harmoniously;  and 
then  we  shall  be  the  more  strongly  united  in  all,  but  especially  in 
our  present  proceedings.  There  must  be  respectful  treatment  one 
of  another,  of  the  persons  and  character  of  one  another;  and  we 
must  be  careful  of  ministerial  character ;  which  is  of  greater  con- 
sequence than  at  first  sight  may  appear.  And  when  we  have  occa- 
sion to  dispute,  let  it  be  under  a  very  strict  guard,  avoiding  all  cen- 
suring reflections. 

"  2.  That  we  manifest  our  approbation  of  the  Westminster  As- 

VoL.  L  36 


282  L1F£    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

sembiy's  Catechism,  as  containing  an  excellent  system  of  divinity  ; 
and  we  purpose  to  preach  agreeably  to  the  doctrines  of  the  Bible 
exhibited  therein. 

"  3.  As  we  must  be  very  careful  of  our  conversation  in  general, 
as  above  said  ;  so  especially  must  we  be  respecting  our  conduct 
while  together  in  Association. 

"  4.  It  is  proposed  that  a  course  of  our  Association  be  turned 
into  Fasts,  upon  this  great  account. 

"  5.  We  agree  to  be  more  especially  fervent,  in  continual  Prayer 
for  the  advancement  of  the  kingdom  of  Christ. 

"  6.  Some. special,  new  and  prudent,  care  must  be  taken  to  guard 
our  pulpits. 

"7.  It  is  proposed,  that  we  agree  to  endeavour  to  introduce  the 
public  reading  of  the  holy  Scriptures.  The  manner  and  time,  to  be 
left  to  discretion. 

"III.  With  regard  to  w^hat  may  be  done  among  the  people  we 
stand  related  to. 

"  1 .  We  conceive  that  whatever  public  exercises  are  to  be  agreed 
on,  or  whatever  concerns  the  public,  the  people  are  to  be  informed 
and  acquainted  with  our  design. 

"  2.  That  it  be  earnestly  recommended  to  the  people,  to  con- 
sider the  w^orth  of  their  privileges,  and  the  danger  of  being  deprived 
of  them  ;  which  there  is,  partly  by  the  spreading  of  evil  doctrines 
among  them,  and  partly  by  the  conduct  of  too  many  people  towards 
their  ministers. 

"  3.  Let  pragmatical,  factious  spirits,  fomenting  division,  be  duly 
frowned  upon. 

"4.  We  must  guard  them  against  the  temptations  of  their  seve- 
ral employments,  and  the  special  seasons  wherein  they  are  most 
exposed. 

"  5.  We  must  consider  what  evils  there  are  to  be  found  among 
them,  which  do  especially  need  reforming  ;  as  the  profanation  of 
the  Lord's  day,  which  is  enough  to  destroy  all  religion ;  tavern- 
haunting,  company-keeping,  chambering,  uncleanness,  profane- 
ness,  etc. ;  and  we  ought  loudly  to  testify  against  them.  And  that 
what  w^e  do  may  be  effectual,  let  us  endeavour  to  convince  their 
consciences  of  the  evil  of  sin  and  of  these  sins. — ^We  are  not  to  fail  to 
warn  people  solemnly  against  the  dreadful  guilt  of  unthankfulness 
under  God's  signal  mercies,  and  of  incorrigibleness  under  heavy 
and  sore  judgments.  Could  we  in  Avisdom  do  it,  we  should  also 
w^arn  them  against  their  oppressing  the  Lord's  ministers  in  their 
maintenance. 

"  6.  Let  us  endeavour  to  revive  good  customs  and  practices 
among  them ;  particularly,  the  ancient  good  practice  of  Catechi- 
sing, Family  order,  worship  and  government,  religious  societies 
under  good  regulation,  godly  conference  and  conversation  among 
Christians ;  and  in  brief,  whatever  is  laudable  and  of  good  tendency. 


LIFE    OF     PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  28o 

'*  7.  Church  discipline  should  be  rcnved  ;  brotherly  watchful- 
ness, and  admonition  ;  nor  are  we  to  forget  to  take  special  care  of 
the  children  and  youths  of  the  flock. 

*'  8.  We  may  do  well  to  engage,  as  far  as  we  are  able,  all  per- 
sons of  distinction  and  influence  to  unite  with  us  in  this  work  of 
reformation ;  e.  g.  justices,  school  masters,  candidates  for  the 
ministry;  and  especially  to  assist  us  by  their  example. 

"  9.  Solemn  renewal  of  Covenant  hath  been  advised  to,  as  very 
useful  upon  this  occasion  ;  (vid.  Spiod,  1679,  for  Reformation;) 
but  we  leave  this  to  each  one's  discretion. 

*'  Finally,  in  these  things  we  should  think  ourselves  bound  to 
exert  ourselves,  and  use  uncommon  fervency,  to  preserve  what 
remains  of  religion,  and  prevent  further  decay. 

"  October,  1748." 

"  Thus  far  this  Association. 

"  The  members  of  this  Association,  as  their  names  were  sent  to 
me,  are  as  follows. 

"  The  Rev.  Messrs.  Loring,  of  Sudbury;  Cushing,  of  Shrews- 
bury ;  Parkman,  of  Westborough  ;  Gardiner,  of  Stow ;  ^Martyn, 
of  Westborough  ;  Stone,  of  Southborough  ;  Seecomb,  of  Harvard  ; 
Morse,  of  Shrewsbury  ;  Smith,  of  jMarlborough  ;  Goss,  of  Boston ; 
Buckminster,  of  Rutland;  Davis,  of  Holden. 

"  I  must  refer  you,  dear  Sir,  for  other  particulars  relating  to  the 
state  of  religion,  in  these  parts  of  the  world,  to  my  letters  to  my 
other  correspondents  in  your  neighbourhood. 

"  My  wife   and  family  join  with  me  in  very  afFectionate  and  re- 
spectful salutations  to  you  and  yours.     Desiring  an  interest  in  your 
prayers  for  us  all,  and  for  this  part  of  the  Zion  of  God, 
"  I  remain,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  afFectionate  brother, 

"  And  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

In  the  Memoirs  of  Brainerd,  under  the  date  of  Sept.  13,  1747, 
the  reader  will  find  mention  of  a  jMr.  Job  Strong,  a  candidate  for 
the  ministry,  whom  Brainerd,  immediately  before  his  death,  re- 
commended to  the  Commissioners  in  Boston,  as  a  missionary  to 
the  Indians ;  and  in  the  4th  Reflexion  on  those  Memoirs,  an  inter- 
esting letter  of  his,  giving  an  account  of  the  Indian  Mission  at 
Bethel,  in  New-Jersey,  in  Jan.  1748.  This  young  gentleman, 
having  ultimately  declined  that  appointment,  accepted  proposals  of 
settlement  in  the  ministry,  the  following  year,  from  a  Church  in 
Portsmouth,  New-Hampshire,  and  invited  Mr.  Edwards  to  preach 
the  Sermon  at  his  ordination,  which  was  appointed  for  the  28th  of 
June.  Mary,  the  fourth  daughter  of  Mr.  Edwards,  then  a  young 
lady  of  fifteen,  went  before  her  father  to  Portsmouth,  to  visit  some 


284  OFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  the  friends  of  the  family  in  that  place.  From  her,  I  learned  the 
following  anecdote. — The  Rev.  Mr.  Moody,  of  York,  a  gendeman 
of  unqnestioned  talents  and  piety,  but  perfectly  unique  in  his  man- 
ners, had  agreed,  in  case  of  Mr.  Edwards'  failure,  to  be  his  substi- 
tute in  preaching  the  sermon.  On  the  morning  of  the  appointed 
day,  Mr.  Edwards  not  having  arrived,  the  Council  delayed  the  or- 
dination as  long  as  they  well  could,  and  then  proceeded  to  the 
church ;  where  Mr.  IMoody  had  been  regularly  appointed  to  make 
the  Introductory  Prayer,  w  hich  is  the  prayer  immediately  before  the 
Sermon.  That  gentleman,  knowing  that  a  numerous  and  highly 
respectable  audience  had  been  drawn  together,  by  a  strong  desire 
to  hear  Mr.  Edwards,  rose  up  to  pray  under  the  not  very  pleas- 
ant impression,  that  he  must  stand  in  his  place ;  and  offered  a 
prayer,  which  was  wholly  characteristic  of  himself,  and  in  some 
degree  also  of  the  times  in  wdiich  he  lived.  In  that  part  of  it,  in 
which  it  was  proper  for  him  to  allude  to  the  exercises  of  the  day, 
he  besought  the  Lord,  that  they  might  be  suitably  humbled  under 
the  frown  of  his  pro\adence,  in  not  being  permitted  to  hear  on  that 
occasion,  a  discourse,  as  they  had  all  fondly  expected,  from  "  that 
eminent  servant  of  God,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  of  Northamp- 
ton ;"  and  proceeded  to  thank  God,  for  having  raised  him  up,  to 
be  such  a  burning  and  shining  light,  for  his  uncommon  piety,  for 
his  great  excellence  as  a  preacher,  for  the  remarkable  success 
which  had  attended  his  ministry,  in  other  congregations  as  w^ell  as 
his  own,  for  the  superior  talents  and  wisdom  with  which  he  was 
endowed  as  a  writer,  and  for  the  great  amount  of  good,  which  his 
works  had  already  done,  and  still  promised  to  do,  to  the  Church 
and  to  the  world.  He  then  prayed  that  God  would  spare  his  life, 
and  endow  him  with  still  higher  gifts  and  graces,  and  render  him 
still  more  eminent  and  useful  than  he  had  been ;  and  concluded 
this  part  of  his  prayer,  by  supplicating  the  Divine  blessing  on  the 
daughter  of  Mr.  Ed^vards,  (then  in  the  house,)  who,  though  a  very 
worthy  and  amiable  young  lady,  w^as  still,  as  they  had  reason  to 
believe,  without  the  grace  of  God,  and  in  an  unconverted  state  ; 
that  God  would  bring  her  to  repentance,  and  forgive  her  sins,  and  not 
suffer  the  peculiar  privileges  which  she  enjoyed,  to  be  the  means  of  a 
more  aggravated  condemnation.  Mr.  Edwards,  who  travelled  on 
horseback,  and  had  been  unexpectedly  detained  on  the  road,  arrived 
at  the  church  a  short  time  after  the  commencement  of  the  exercises, 
and  entered  the  door  just  after  Mr.  Moody  began  his  prayer.  Being 
remarkably  still  in  all  his  movements,  and  particularly  in  the  house  of 
God,  he  ascended  the  stairs,  and  entered  the  pulpit  so  silently,  that 
Mr.  Moody  did  not  hear  him  ;  and  of  course  was  necessitated,  be- 
fore a  very  numerous  audience,  to  listen  to  the  very  high  character 
given  of  himself  by  Mr.  Moody.  As  soon  as  the  prayer  w^as 
closed,  Mr.  Moody  turned  round,  and  saw  JMr.  Edwards  behind 
him ;  and,  without  leaving  his  place,  gave  him  his  right  hand,  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDV.AUDS.  285 

addressed  him  as  follows,  "  Brotlier  Edwards,  we  are  all  of  us 
much  rejoiced  to  see  you  here  to-day,  and  nohody,  probably,  as 
much  so  as  myself;  but  I  wish  that  you  might  have  got  in  a  lit- 
tle sooner,  or  a  little  later,  or  else  that  I  might  have  heard  you 
when  you  came  in,  and  known  that  you  were  here.  I  didn't  in- 
tend to  flatter  you  to  your  face  ;  but  there's  one  thing  I'll  tell  you  : 
They  say  that  your  wdfe  is  a  going  to  heaven,  by  a  shorter  road 
than  yourself."  Mr.  Edwards  bowed,  and  after  reading  the 
Psalm,  w^ent  on  with  the  Sermon.  His  text  was  John  xiii.  15,  16, 
and  his  subject,  "  Christ  the  Example  of  JMinisters."  It  was  soon 
after  published. 

To  his  daughter,  who  prolonged  her  ^^sit  some  time  after  the  re- 
turn of  her  father,  he  addressed,  during  her  visit  at  Portsmouth, 
the  following  letter. 

"  To  Miss  Mary  Edwards,"^  at  Portsmouth. 

^^  JVorthampton,  July  26,  1749. 

"  My  dear  Child, 

"  You  may  well  think  it  is  natural  for  a  parent,  to  be  concerned 
for  a  child  at  so  great  a  distance,  so  far  out  of  view,  and  so  far  out 
of  the  reach  of  communication  ;  where,  if  you  should  be  taken  with 
any  dangerous  sickness,  that  should  issue  in  death,  you  might 
probably  be  in  your  grave,  before  we  could  hear  of  your  danger. 
But  yet,  my  greatest  concern  is  not  for  your  health,  or  temporal 
w^elfare,  but  for  the  good  of  your  soul.  Though  you  are  at  so 
great  a  distance  from  us,  yet  God  is  every  where.  You  are  much 
out  of  the  reach  of  our  care,  but  you  are  every  moment  in  His 
hands.  We  have  not  the  comfort  of  seeing  you,  but  He  sees  you. 
His  eye  is  always  upon  you.  And  if  you  may  but  live  sensibly 
near  to  God,  and  have  his  gracious  presence,  it  is  no  matter  if  you 
are  far  distant  from  us.  I  had  rather  you  should  remain  hundreds 
of  miles  distant  from  us,  and  have  God  near  to  you  by  His  Spirit, 
than  to  have  you  always  with  us,  and  live  at  a  distance  from  God. 
And  if  the  next  news  we  should  hear  of  you,  should  be  of  your 
death  ;  though  that  would  be  very  melancholy,  yet,  if  at  the  same 
time  we  should  receive  such  intelligence  concerning  you,  as  should 
give  us  the  best  grounds  to  hope,  that  you  had  died  in  the  Lord ; 
how  much  more  comfortable  would  this  be,  though  we  should  have 
no  opportunity  to  see  you,  or  to  take  our  leave  of  you  in  your  sick- 
ness, than  if  we  should  be  with  you  during  all  its  progress,  and  have 
much  opportunity  to  attend  upon  you,  and  converse  and  pray  with 
you,  and  take  an  affectionate  leave  of  you,  and  after  all  have  rea- 
son to  apprehend,  that  you  died  without  the  grace  and  favour  of 
God  !  It  is  comfortable  to  have  the  presence  of  earthly  friends,  es- 

*Afterwards  Mrs.  Dwight,  of  Northampton. 


286  LIFE     OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

peclally  in  sickness,  and  on  a  death  bed ;  but  the  great  thing  is  to 
have  God  our  friend,  and  to  be  united  to  Christ,  who  can  never 
die  any  more,  and  from  whom  our  own  death  cannot  separate  us. 

"  Mj  desire  and  daily  prayer  is,  that  you  may,  if  it  may  consist 
with  the  holy  will  of  God,  meet  with  God  where  you  are,  and  have 
much  of  His  Divine  influences  on  your  heart,  wherever  you  may 
be  ;  and  that,  in  God's  due  time,  you  may  be  returned  to  us  again, 
in  all  respects  under  the  smiles  of  heaven,  and  especially,  in  pros- 
perous circumstances  in  your  soul,  and  that  you  may  find  us  all 
alive  and  well.  But  that  is  uncertain  ;  for  you  know  what  a  dying 
time  it  has  been  with  us  in  this  town,  about  this  season  of  the  year, 
in  years  past.  There  is  not  much  sickness  prevailing  among  us  as 
yet,  but  we  fear  whether  mortal  sickness  is  not  now  commencing. 

Yesterday,  the  only  remaming  son  of  Mr.  C died  of  a  fever, 

and  is  to  be  buried  to-day.    May  God  fit  us  all  for  His  will ! 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  maintain  a  strict  and  constant  watch  over 
yourself,  against  all  temptations,  that  you  do  not  forsake  and  for- 
get God,  and  particularly,  that  you  do  not  grow^  slack  in  secret 
religion.  Retire  often  from  this  vain  w^orld,  from  all  its  bubbles 
and  empty  shadows,  and  vain  amusements,  and  converse  with  God 
alone  ;  and  seek  effectually  for  that  Divine  grace  and  comfort,  the 
least  drop  of  which  is  worth  more  than  all  the  riches,  gaiety,  pleas- 
ures and  entertainments  of  the  whole  world. 

"  If  Mrs.  S ,  of  Boston,  or  any  of  that  family,  should  send 

to  you,  to  invite  you  to  come  and  remain  there,  on  your  return 
from  Portsmouth,  until  there  is  opportunity  for  you  to  come  home, 
I  would  have  you  accept  the  invitation.  I  think  it  probable  they 
will  invite  you.  But  if  otherwise,  I  would  have  you  go  to  Mr. 
Bromfield's.  He  and  Mrs.  B.  both  told  me  you  should  be  wel- 
come. After  you  are  come  to  Boston,  I  w^ould  have  you  send  us 
w^ord  of  it  by  the  first  opportunity,  that  we  may  send  for  you  with- 
out delay. 

"  We  are  all,  through  the  Divine  goodness,  in  a  tolerable  state  of 
health.  The  ferment  in  the  town  runs  very  high,  concerning  my 
opinion  about  the  Sacrament;  but  I  am  no  more  able  to  foretell  the 
issue,  than  when  1  last  saw  you.  But  the  whole  family  has  indeed 
much  to  put  us  in  mind,  and  make  us  sensible  of  our  dependence 
on  the  care  and  kindness  of  God,  and  of  the  vanity  of  all  human 
dependences;  and  we  are  very  loudly  called  upon  to  seek  His 
face,  to  trust  in  Him,  and  walk  closely  with  Him.  Commending 
you  to  the  care  and  special  favour  of  our  heavenly  Father,  I  am 
"  Your  very  affectionate  father, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards, 

"Your  mother  and  all  the  family  give  their  love  to  you." 

The  following  Letter  of  Mr.  Edwards  to  Mr.  Gillespie,  is  in  re- 


LIFE    OF    rUDSIDENT    ED\VaKI)S.  Jb7 

ply  to  the  second  letter  of  that  gentleman,  written  in  the  autumn 
of  1748.* 

'''  JS'orihampton,  April  2,  1750. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

*'I  received  your  favour  of  September  19,  1748,  the  last  sum- 
mer, and  would  now  heartily  thank  you  for  it.  I  suppose  it  may 
have  come  in  the  same  ship  with  letters  I  had  from  my  other  cor- 
respondents in  Scotland,  which  I  answered  the  last  summer ;  but 
it  did  not  come  to  hand  till  a  long  time  after  most  of  the  others,  and 
after  I  had  finished  and  sent  away  my  answers  to  them,  and  that 
opportunity  for  answering  was  past.  1  have  had  no  leisure  or  op- 
portunity to  write  any  letters  to  Scotland,  from  that  time  till  now, 
by  reason  of  my  pecuhar  and  very  extraordinary  circumstances,  on 
account  of  the  controversy  which  has  arisen  between  me  and  my  peo- 
ple, concerning  the  profession  which  ought  to  be  made  by  persons 
who  come  to  christian  sacraments  ;  which  is  likely  speedily  to  issue 
in  a  separation  between  me  and  my  congregation.  This  controver- 
sy, in  the  progress  of  it,  has  proved  not  only  a  controversy  between 
me  and  my  people,  but  between  me  and  a  great  part  of  New  Eng- 
land ;  there  being  many  far  and  near  who  are  warmly  engaged  in  it. 
This  affair  has  unavoidably  engaged  my  mind,  and  filled  up  my 
time,  and  taken  me  off  from  other  things,  I  need  the  prayers  of 
my  friends,  that  God  w^ould  be  with  me,  and  direct  and  assist  me  in 
such  a  time  of  trial,  and  mercifully  order  the  issue. 

"  As  to  the  epistolary  controversy,  dear  Sir,  between  you  and  me, 
about  FAITH  and  doubting,  I  am  sorry  it  should  seem  to  be  greater 
than  it  is,  through  misunderstanding  of  one  another's  meaning,  and 
that  the  real  difference  between  us  is  so  great  as  it  is,  in  some  part 
of  the  controversy. 

"As  to  the  dispute  about  believing  without  spiritual  light  or 
sight,  I  thought  I  expressed  my  meaning  in  my  last  letter  very 
plainly  ;  but  I  kept  no  copy,  and  it  might  perhaps  be  owing  to  my 
dulhiess  that  I  thought  so.  However  1  perceive  I  was  not  under- 
stood. I  cannot  find  out  by  any  thing  you  say  to  me  on  this  head, 
that  w^e  really  differ  in  sentiments,  but  only  in  words.  I  acknow- 
ledge with  you  that  "  all  are  bound  to  beheve  the  divine  testimony, 
and  trust  in  Christ ;  and  that  want  of  spiritual  light  or  sight  does 
not  loose  from  the  obligation  one  is  laid  under  by  the  divine  com- 
mand, to  beheve  instantly  on  Christ,  and  at  all  seasons,  nor  excuse 
him,  in  any  degree,  for  not  belie\dng.  Even  when  one  w^ants 
the  influence  and  grace  of  the  Spirit,  stih  he  is  bound  to  believe." 
I  think  the  obligation  to  believe,  lies  on  a  person  who  is  re- 
maining without  spiritual  light  or  sight,  or  even  in  dark- 
ness.      No    darkness,    no   blindness,   no    carnality    or    stupidity 


*  See  page  252. 


28y  LIVE    OF    PIlESiDENT    EDVrAllDS.  ^ 

excuses  him  a  moment  for  not  having  as  strong  and  lively  a  faith  and 
love,  as  ever  v/as  exercised  bythe  aposde  Paul,  or  rather  renders  it 
not  sinful  in  liim,  that  he  is  at  that  same  moment  without  such  a 
faith  and  love ; — and  yet  I  believe  it  is  absurd,  and  of  a  very  hurt- 
ful consequence,  to  urge  persons  to  believe  in  the  dark,  in  the  man- 
ner, and  in  the  sense,  in  which  many  hundreds  have  done  in  America, 
vrho  plainly  intend,  a  believing  with  such  a  sort  of  strong  faith  or 
confidence,  as  is  consistent  with  continuing  still,  even  in  the  time  of 
these  strong  acts  of  faith,  without  spiritual  light,  carnal,  stupid,  care- 
less, and  senseless.  Their  doctrine  evidently  comes  to  this,  both 
in  sense  and  eifect,  that  it  is  a  man's  duty  strongly  to  believe  with 
a  llghtless  and  sightless  faith  ;  or  to  have  a  confident,  although  a 
blind,  dark  and  stupid,  faith.  Such  a  faith  has  indeed  been 
promoted  exceedingly  by  their  doctrine,  and  has  prevailed  with 
its  dreadful  effects,  answerable  to  the  nature  of  the  cause. 
We  have  had,  and  have  to  this  day,  multitudes  of  such  firm 
believers,  whose  bold,  presumptuous  confidence,  altended  with 
a  very  wicked  behaviour,  has  given  the  greatest  wound  to  the 
cause  of  truth  and  vital  religion,  which  it  has  ever  suffered  in 
America. 

"  As  to  v.hat  follows  in  your  letter,  that  a  persoii's  believing 
himself  to  be  in  a  good  estate  is  properly  of  the  nature  of  faith; 
in  this  there  seems  to  be  some  real  difference  between  us.  But, 
perhaps  there  would  be  none,  if  distinctness  were  well  observed  in 
the  use  of  words.  If  by  a  mail's  believing  that  he  is  in  a  good 
estate,  be  meant  no  more  than  his  believing  that  he  does  believe  in 
Christ,  does  love  God,  <^c.,  I  think  there  is  nothing  of  the  nature 
of  faith  in  it ;  because  knowing  it  or  belie\dng  it,  depends  on  our 
own  immediate  sensation  or  consciousness,  and  not  on  divine  testi- 
m.ony.  True  believers,  in  the  hope  they  entertain  of  salvation,- 
make  use  of  the  following  syllogism :  Whosoever  believes  shall  be 
saved:  I  believe:  Therefore,  I  shall  be  saved.  Assenting  to  die 
major  proposition, —  Whosoever  believes  shall  be  saved, — is  properly 
of  the  nature  of  fahh  ;  because  the  ground  of  my  assent  to  that,  is 
divine  testimony  ;  but  my  assent  to  the  minor  proposition, — 1  be- 
lieve,— is,  as  I  humbly  conceive,  not  of  the  nature  of  faith, 
because  that  is  not  grounded  on  the  divine  testimony,  but  on 
my  own  consciousness.  The  testimony,  which  is  the  proper 
ground  of  faith,  is  in  the  word  of  God,  Romans  x.  17.  *'  Faith 
Cometh  by  hearing,  and  hearing  by  the  word  of  God."  There 
is  a  testimony  given  us  m  the  word  of  God,  that  "  he  that 
believeth  shall  be  saved^  But  there  is  no  testimony  in  the  word 
of  God,  that  a  given  individual,  in  such  a  town  in  Scotland,  or 
jYew-England,  believes.  There  is  such  a  proposition  in  the  scrip- 
tures, as  that  Christ  loves  those  that  love  him  ;  and  this,  therefore, 
every  one  is  bound  to  beheve  and  aflirm  :  and  believing  this,  on  the 
divine  testimony,  is  properly  of  the  nature  of  faith,  while  for  any 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  289 

one  to  doubt  It,  Is  properly  the  heinous  sin  of  unbelief.  But  tliere 
is  no  such  proposition  in  the  scriptures,  nor  is  it  any  part  of  the  gos- 
pel of  Christ,  that  such  an  individual  j^erson  in  Northampton  loves 
Christ.  If  I  know  that  I  have  complacency  in  Christ,  I  know  it  the 
same  way  that  I  know  I  have  complacency  in  my  wife  and  children, 
viz.  by  the  testimony  of  my  own  heart,  or  my  imvard  consciousness. 
Evangelical  faith  has  the  gospel  of  Christ  for  its  foundation  ;  but 
the  proposition,  that  I  love  Christ,  is  a  proposition  not  contained  in 
the  gospel  of  Christ. 

"  Hence,  tliat  w^e  may  not  dispute  in  the  dark,  it  is  necessary, 
that  we  should  explain  what  we  mean  by  a  person'' s  helievmg  that 
he  is  in  a  good  estate.  If  thereby  we  mean  only  believing  the 
minor  of  the  foregoing  syllogism,  or  similar  syllogisms, — /  believe  ; 
or,  /  love  God  ; — it  is  not  of  the  nature  of  faith.  But  if  by  a  man's 
believing  himself  to  be  in  a  good  estate,  be  understood  his  believ- 
ing not  only  the  minor  but  the  consequence,  therefore  I  shall  be 
saved,  or,  therefore  God  will  never  leave  me  nor  forsake  me;  then 
a  man's  believing  his  good  estate,  partakes  of  the  nature  of  faith ; 
for  these  consequences  depend  on  divine  testimony  in  the  word  of 
God  and  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ.  Yea,  I  would  observe  further, 
that  a  man's  judging  of  the  faith  or  love  which  he  actually  finds  in 
himself,  whether  it  is  that  sort  of  faith  or  love  which  he  finds  to  be 
saving,  may  depend  on  his  reliance  on  scripture  rules  and  marks, 
which  are  divine  testimonies,  on  which  he  may  be  tempted  not  to 
rely,  from  the  consideration  of  his  great  unworthiness.  But  his 
judging  that  he  has  those  individual  inward  acts  of  understanding, 
and  exercises  of  heart,  depends  on  inward  sensations,  and  not  on 
any  testimony  of  the  word  of  God.  The  knovving  of  his  present 
acts  depends  on  immediate  consciousness,  and  the  knowing  of  his 
past  acts  depends  on  memory.  Hence  the  fulness  of  my  satisfac- 
tion, that  I  now  have  such  an  inward  act  or  exercise  of  mind,  de- 
pends on  the  strength  of  the  sensation ;  and  my  satisfaction,  that  I 
have  had  them  heretofore,  depends  on  the  clearness  of  my  memo- 
ry, and  not  on  the  strength  of  my  reliance  on  any  divine  testimony. 
So  likewise,  my  doubting  whether  I  have,  or  have  had,  such  indi- 
vidual inward  acts,  is  not  of  itself  of  the  nature  of  unbelief,  though 
it  may  arise  from  unbelief  indirectly;  because,  if  I  had  had  more 
faith,  the  actings  of  it  would  have  been  more  sensible,  and  the  me- 
mory of  them  more  clear,  and  so  I  should  have  been  better  satisfied 
that  I  had  them. 

"  God  appears  to  have  given  Abraham's  servant  a  revelation, 
that  the  damsel  in  whom  he  found  certain  marks, — her  coming  to 
draw  water  with  a  pitcher  to  that  well,  and  her  readiness  to  give 
him  and  his  camels  drink — should  be  Isaac's  wife  ;  and  therefore 
his  assenting  to  this,  was  of  the  nature  of  faith,  having  divine  testi- 
mony for  its  foundation.  But  his  believing  that  Rebekah  was  the 
damsel  who  had  these  individual  marks,  his  knowing  that  she  came 

Vol.  I.  37 


290  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

to  draw  water,  and  that  she  let  down  her  pitcher,  was  not  of  the 
nature  of  faith.  His  knowing  this  was  not  from  divine  testimony ^ 
but  from  the  testimony  of  his  own  senses.     (Vide  Gen.  xxiv.) 

"  You  speak  of  "  a  saint's  doubting  of  his  good  estate,  as  a  part 
of  unbelief,  and  the  opposite  of  faith,  considered  in  its  full  com- 
pass and  latitude,  as  one  branch  of  unbelief,  one  ingredient  in  un- 
belief ;  and  of  assurance  of  a  man's  good  estate,  as  one  thing  that 
belongs  to  the  exercise  of  faith."  I  do  not  know  whether  I  take 
your  meaning  in  these  expressions.  If  you  mean,  that  a  person's 
believing  himself  to  be  in  a  good  estate,  is  one  thing  which  apper- 
tains to  the  essence  of  saving  faith,  or  that  saving  faith,  in  all  that 
belongs  to  its  essence,  yea  its  perfection,  cannot  be  whhout  imply- 
ing it,  I  must  humbly  ask  leave  to  differ  from  you.  That  my  be- 
Heving  that  I  am  in  a  good  estate,  is  no  part  or  ingredient  in  the 
essence  of  saving  faith,  is  evident  from  this,  that  the  essence  of 
saving  faith,  must  be  complete  in  me,  before  it  can  be  true,  that  I 
am  in  a  good  estate.  If  I  have  not  as  yet  acted  faith,  yea  if  there 
be  any  thing  wanting  in  me  to  make  up  the  essence  of  saving  faith, 
then  I  am  not  as  yet  in  a  state  of  salvation,  and  therefore  can  have 
no  ground  to  believe  that  I  am  so.  Any  thing  that  belongs  to  the 
essence  of  saving  faith  is  prior,  in  the  order  of  nature,  to  a  man's 
being  in  a  state  of  salvation,  because  it  is  saving  fahh  which  brings 
him  into  such  a  state.  And  therefore  believing  that  he  is  in  such  a 
state,  cannot  be  one  tiling  which  is  essential  or  necessary,  in  order 
to  his  being  in  such  a  state ;  for  that  would  imply  a  contradiction. 
It  would  be  to  sup|X)se  a  man's  believing,  that  he  is  in  a  good 
estate,  to  be  prior,  in  the  order  of  nature,  to  his  being  in  a  good 
estate.  But  a  thing  cannot  be  both  prior  and  posterior,  antecedent 
and  consequent,  with  respect  to  the  very  same  thing.  The  real 
truth  of  a  proposition  is  in  the  order  of  nature  first,  before  its  being 
believed  to  be  true.  But,  till  a  man  has  already  all  that  belongs  to 
the  essence  of  saving  faith,  that  proposition,  that  he  is  in  a  good 
estate,  is  not  as  yet  true.  All  the  propositions  contained  in  the 
Gospel,  all  divine  testimonies  that  we  have  in  God's  word,  are  true 
already,  are  already  laid  for  a  foundation  for  faith,  and  were  laid 
long  ago.  But  that  proposition,  /  am  in  a  good  estate,  not  being 
one  of  them,  is  not  true  till  I  have  first  believed ;  and  therefore  this 
proposition,  as  it  is  not  true,  cannot  be  believed  to  be  true,  till  sav- 
ing faith  be  first  complete.  Therefore  the  completeness  of  the  act 
of  saving  faith,  will  not  make  it  take  in  a  behef  of  this  proposition, 
nor  \^^ll  the  strength  or  perfection  of  the  act  cause  it  to  imply  this. 
If  a  man,  in  his  first  act  of  faith,  has  ever  so  full  a  conviction  of 
God's  sufficiency  and  faithfulness,  and  ever  so  strong  and  perfect 
a  reliance  on  the  divine  testimony  ;  all  will  have  no  tendency  to 
make  him  believe  that  this  proposition,  /  am  in  a  good  estate,  is 
true,  until  it  is  true  ;  which  is  not  the  fact,  till  the  first  act  of  faith 
is  complete,  and  has  made  it  true.     A  belief  of  divine  testimony. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  291 

ill  the  first  act  of  faith,  may  be  to  an  assignable  degree  of  strength 
and  perfection,  without  believing  the  proposition,  for  there  is  no 
such  divine  testimony  then  extant,  nor  is  there  any  such  truth  ex- 
tant, but  in  consequence  of  the  first  act  of  faith.  Therefore,  (as  I 
said,)  saving  faith  may  exist,  with  all  that  belongs  to  its  essence, 
and  that  in  the  highest  perfection,  without  implying  a  belief  of  my 
own  good  estate.  I  do  not  say  that  it  can  exist  without  having  this 
immediate  effect.  But  it  is  rather  the  effect  of  faith,  than  a  j)firt, 
branch,  or  ingredient  of  faith.  So  I  do  not  dispute  whether  a 
man's  doubting  of  his  good  estate,  may  be  a  consequence  of  unbe- 
lief, and  I  doubt  not  but  it  is  in  those  who  are  in  a  good  estate  ;  be- 
cause, if  men  had  the  exercise  of  faith  in  such  a  degree  as  they 
ought  to  have,  it  could  not  but  be  very  sensible  and  plain  that  they 
had  it.  But  yet  I  think  this  doubting  of  one's  good  estate,  is  en- 
tirely a  different  thing  from  the  sin  of  unbelief  itself,  and  has  no- 
thing of  the  nature  of  unbelief  in  it,  i.  e.  if  we  take  doubting  one's 
good  estate  in  the  sense  in  which  I  have  before  explained  it,  viz. 
doubting  whether  1  have  such  individual  principles  and  acts  in  my 
sold.  Take  it  in  a  complex  sense,  and  it  may  have  the  sin  of  un- 
belief in  it ;  e.  g.  If,  although  I  doubt  not  that  I  have  such  and  such 
qualifications,  I  yet  doubt  of  those  consequences,  for  which  I  have 
divine  testimony  or  promise ;  as  when  a  person  doubts  not  that  he 
loves  Christ,  yet  doubts  whether  he  shall  receive  a  crown  of  life. 
The  doubting  of  this  consequence  is  properly  the  sin  of  unbelief. 

"  You  say,  dear  Sir,  "  the  Holy  Ghost  requires  us  to  believe  the 
reality  of  his  w^ork  m  us  in  all  its  parts  just  as  it  is;"  and  a  little 
before,  "  the  believer's  doubting  w-hether  or  not  he  has  faith,  is 
sinful ;  because  it  is  belying  the  Holy  Ghost,  denying  his  work  in 
him,  so  there  is  no  sin  to  which  that  doubting  can  so  properly  be 
reduced  as  unbelief." 

"  Here  I  would  ask  leave  thus  to  express  my  thoughts,  in  a  di- 
versity from  yours.  I  think,  if  it  be  allowed  to  be  sinful  for  a  be- 
hever  to  doubt  whether  he  has  faith,  that  this  doubting  is  not  the 
sin  of  unbelief  on  any  such  account  as  you  mention,  viz.  as  belying 
or  denying  any  testimony  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  There  is  a  differ- 
ence between  doubting  of  the  being  of  some  work  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  denying  the  testimony  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  there  is  a 
difference  between  doubting  concerning  some  other  w^orks  of  God, 
and  denying  the  testimony  of  God.  It  is  the  work  of  God  to 
give  a  man  great  natural  abilities;  and  if  we  suppose  that  God 
requires  a  man  thus  endowed  to  believe  the  reality  of  his  ivork 
in  all  its  parts  just  as  it  is,  and  therefore,  that  it  is  sinful 
for  him  at  all  to  doubt  of  his  natural  abilities  being  just  as  good 
as  they  are ;  yet  this  is  no  belying  any  testimony  of  God,  though 
it  be  doubting  of  a  work  of  God,  and  so  is  diverse  froni  the 
sin  of  unbelief.  So,  if  we  suppose  that  a  very  eminent  chi'istian 
is  to  blame,  in  doubting  whether  he  has  so  much  holiness  as  he 


292  LIFE    OF    PKES!L>ENT    EDWARDS. 

really  has  ;  he  indeed  does  not  believe  the  reality  of  Godh  work  in 
him,  in  all  its  parts  just  as  it  is,  yet  he  is  not  therein  guilty  of  the 
sin  of  unbelief,  against  any  testimony  of  God,  any  more  than  the 
other. 

"  I  acknowledge,  that  for  a  true  saint,  in  a  carnal  and  careless 
frame,  to  doubt  of  his  good  state,  is  sinful,  more  indirectly,  as  the 
cause  of  it  is  sinful,  viz.  the  lowness  and  insensibility  of  the  actings 
of  grace  in  him,  and  the  prevalence  of  camalit)"  and  stupidity.  'Tis 
sinful  to  be  without  assurance,  or,  (as  we  say)  it  is  his  oicn  fault ; 
he  sinfully  deprives  himself  of  it,  or  foregoes  it,  as  a  servant's  be- 
ing without  his  tools  is  his  sin,  w^hen  he  has  carelessly  lost  them,  or 
as  it  is  his  sin  to  be  without  strength  of  body,  or  without  the  sight 
of  his  eyes,  when  he  has  deprived  himself  of  these  by  intemperance. 
Not  that  w-eakness  or  blindness  of  body,  in  their  own  nature,  are 
sin,  for  they  are  qualities  of  the  body,  and  not  of  mind,  the  subject 
in  w^hich  sin  is  inherent.  It  is  indirectly  the  dut}'  of  a  true  saint 
always  to  rejoice  in  the  light  of  God's  countenance,  because  sin  is 
the  cause  of  his  being  without  this  joy  at  any  time,  and  therefore 
it  was  indirectly  David's  sin  that  he  was  not  rejoicing  in  the  light 
of  God's  countenance,  at  that  very  time  when  he  was  committing 
the  great  iniquities  of  adultery  and  murder.  But  yet  it  is  not  di- 
rectly a  believer's  duty  to  rejoice  in  the  light  of  God's  countenance, 
when  God  hides  his  face.  But  it  rather  then  becomes  him  to  be 
troubled  and  to  mourn.  So  there  are  perhaps,  many  odier  privi- 
leges of  saints  that  are  their  duty  indirectly,  and  tlie  w-ant  of  them 
is  sinful,  not  simply,  but  complexly  considered.  Of  this  kind,  I 
take  the  want  of  assurance  of  my  good  estate  to  be. 

"  I  tliink  no  words  of  mine,  either  in  my  book  or  letter,  implied 
that  a  person's  deliverance  from  a  bad  frame,  does  not  begin  with 
renewed  acts  of  faith  or  trusting  in  God.  If  they  did,  they  im- 
plied what  I  never  intended.  Doubtless  if  a  saint  comes  out  of  an 
ill  frame,  wherein  grace  is  asleep  and  inactive,  it  must  be  by  re- 
newed actings  of  grace.  It  is  very  plainly  impossible,  that  grace 
should  begin  to  cease  to  be  inactive,  in  any  other  way,  than  by  its 
beginning  to  be  active.  It  must  begin  with  die  renewed  actings  of 
some  grace  or  other,  and  I  know  nothing  that  I  have  said  to  the 
contrary,  but  that  the  grace  which  shall  first  begin  sensibly  to  re- 
vive shall  be  faith,  and  that  this  shall  lead  the  way  to  the  renewed 
acting  of  all  other  graces,  and  to  the  farther  acting  of  faidi  itself. 
But  a  person's  commg  out  of  a  carnal,  careless,  dead  frame,  by,  or 
in  the  reviving  of  grace  in  his  soul,  is  quite  another  thing  from  a 
saint's  having  a  strong  exercise  of  faith,  or  strong  hope,  or  strong 
exercise  of  any  grace,  while  yet  remaining  in  a  carnal  careless,  dead 
frame ;  or,  in  other  w^ords,  in  a  frame  wherein  grace  is  so  far  from 
being  in  strong  exercise,  that  it  is  asleep  and  in  a  great  measure  with- 
out e  xercise. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAHDS.  293 

"There  is  a  holy  hope,  a  truly  christian  hope^  of  which  tlie  scrip- 
tures speak,  that  is  reckoned  among  the  graces  of  the  Spirit.  And 
1  think  1  should  never  desire  or  seek  any  other  hope  but  such  an 
one  ;  for  I  believe  no  other  hope  has  any  holy  or  good  tendency. 
Therefore  this  hope,  this  grace  of  hope  alone,  can  properly  be  call- 
ed a  duty.  But  it  is  just  as  absurd  to  talk  of  the  exercise  of  Uiis 
holy  hope,  the  strong  exercise  of  this  grace  of  the  Spirit,  in  a^carnal, 
stupid,  careless  frame,  such  a  frame  yet  remaining,  as  it  would  be  to 
talk  of  the  strong  exercises  of  love  to  God  ,or  heavenly-mindedness,  or 
any  other  grace,  w^iile  remaining  in  such  a  frame.  It  is  doubtless  pro- 
per, earnestly  to  exhort  those  who  are  in  such  a  frame  to  come  out  of 
it,  in  and  by  the  strong  exercise  of  every  grace ;  but  I  should 
not  think  it  proper  to  press  a  man  earnestly  to  maintain  strong 
hope,  notwithstanding  the  prevailing  and  continuance  of  great 
carnality  and  stupidity,  which  is  plainly  the  case  of  the  people  I 
opposed.  For  this  is  plainly  to  press  people  to  an  imholy  hope,  to 
a  strong  hope  which  is  no  christian  grace,  but  strong  and  wicked 
presumption ;  and  the  promodng  of  this  has  most  evidently  been  the 
effect  of  such  a  method  of  dealing  with  souls,  in  innumerable  multi- 
tudes of  awful  instances. 

"  You  seem.  Sir,  to  suppose,  that  God's  manner  of  dealing  with 
his  people,  while  in  a  secure  and  careless  frame,  is  first  to  give  as- 
surance of  their  good  state  while  they  remain  in  such  a  frame,  and 
to  make  use  of  that  assurance  as  a  mean  to  bring  them  out  of  such 
a  frame.  Here,  again,  I  must  beg  leave  to  differ  from  you,  and  to 
think,  that  none  of  the  instances  or  texts  you  adduce  from  scripture, 
do  at  all  prove  the  point.  I  think  it  is  his  manner,  first  to  awaken 
their  consciences,  to  bring  them  to  reflect  upon  themselves,  to  feel 
their  own  calamity  which  they  have  brought  upon  themselves  by  so 
departing  from  God,  by  w^hich  an  end  is  put  to  their  carelessness 
and  security,  and  again  earnestly  and  carefully  to  seek  God's  face 
before  they  find  him,  and  before  God  restores  the  comfortable  and 
joyful  sense  of  his  favour;  and  I  think  this  is  abundantly  evident 
both  from  scripture  and  experience.  You  much  insist  on  the  case 
of  Jonah  as  a  clear  instance  of  the  thing  you  lay  down.  You  ob- 
serve that  he  says,  chap.  ii.  "  I  said  I  am  cast  outof  thy  sight,  yet  I  will 
look  again  towards  thy  holy  temple."  Ver.  5,  7,  "  When  my  soul 
fainted  within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord,  and  my  prayer  came 
in  unto  thee,  even  into  thine  holy  temple."  You  speak  of  tliese 
words  as  expressing  an  assurance  of  his  good  state  and  of  God's 
favour ;  (I  will  not  now  dispute  whether  they  do  or  not ;)  and  you 
speak  of  this  exercise  of  assurance,  as  his  practice  in  an  evil  frame 
and  in  a  careless  frame;  for  he  slept  securely  in  the  sides  of  the 
ship,  manifesting  dismal  security,  awful  carelessness  in  a  carnal 
frame.  That  Jonah  was  in  a  careless  secure  frame  when  he 
was  asleep  in  the  sides  of  the  ship,  I^do  not  deny.'  But  my 
dear  Sij',  does   that  prove  that  he  remained  still  in  a  careless  se- 


294  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

cure  frame,  when  in  his  heart  he  said  these  things  in  the  belly  of  the 
fish ;  does  it  prove  that  he  remained  careless  after  he  was  aw^aken- 
ed,  and  saw  the  furious  storm,  and  o\vned  it  was  the  fruit  of  God's 
anger  towards  him  for  his  sins ;  and  does  it  prove,  that  he  still  remained 
careless  after  the  whale  had  swallowed  him,  when  he  seemed  to 
himself  to  be  in  the  belly  of  hell,  when  the  water  compassdd  him 
about,  even  to  the  soul,  and,  as  he  says,  all  God's  waters  and  bil- 
lows passed  over  him,  and  he  was  ready  to  despair  when  lie 
went  down  to  the  bottoms  of  the  mountains,  was  ready  to  think 
God  had  cast  him  out  of  his  sight,  and  confined  him  in  a  pri- 
son, that  he  could  never  escape,  ivhen  the  earth  with  her  bars 
was  about  him,  forever,  and  his  soul  fainted  within  him^  He 
was  brought  into  this  condition  after  his  sleeping  securely  in  the 
sides  of  the  ship,  before  he  said,  "  I  will  look  again  towards 
thine  holy  temple,  etc."  He  was  evidently  first  aw^akened  out 
of  carelessness  and  security,  and  brought  into  distress,  before  he 
was  comforted. 

"  The  other  place  you  also  much  insist  on,  concerning  the  peo- 
ple of  Israel,  is  very  similar.  Before  God  comforted  them  with 
the  testimonies  of  his  favour  after  their  backslidings,  he  first,  by  se- 
vere chastisements  together  with  the  awakening  influences  of  his 
Spirit,  brought  them  out  of  their  carelessness  and  carnal  security. 
It  appears  by  many  passages  of  scripture,  that  this  was  God's  way 
of  dealing  with  that  people.  In  Hos.  chap.  ii.  we  are  told  that 
God  first  "  hedged  up  her  w^ays  with  thorns,  and  made  a  w^all  tliat 
she  could  not  find  her  paths.  And  took  away  her  corn  and  wine, 
and  wool  and  flax,  destroyed  her  vines  and  fig-trees,  and  caused 
her  mirth  to  cease."  By  this  means,  he  roused  her  from  her 
security,  carelessness  and  deep  sleep,  and  brought  her  to  herself, 
very  much  as  the  prodigal  son  was  brought  to  himself:  thus  God 
"  brought  her  first  into  the  wilderness,  before  he  spake  comfortably 
to  her,  and  opened  to  her  a  door  of  hope."  By  her  distress  he 
first  led  her  to  say,  "  I  will  go  and  return  to  my  first  husband ;  and 
then,  when  God  spake  comfortably  to  her,  she  called  him  "  Ishi, 
my  husband  ;"  and  God  did  as  it  were  renewedly  betroth  her  unto 
bim.  This  passage  is  parallel  with  Jer.  iii.  They  serve  well  to 
illustrate  and  explain  each  other,  and  show  that  it  was  God's  w^ay 
of  dealing  with  his  people  Israel,  after  their  apostacy/rs^  to  awaken 
them,  and  under  a  sense  of  their  sin  and  misery,  to  bring  them  so- 
liciloiisly  to  seek  his  face,  before  he  gave  tliem  sensible  evidence  of 
his  favour ;  and  not  first  to  manifest  his  favour  to  them,  in  order  to 
awaken  them  out  of  their  security."^ 

In  Jer.  iii.  the  prophecy  is  not  concerning  the  recovery  of  back- 
sliding saints,  or  the  mystical  church,  wiiich,  though  she   had  cor- 

-This  is  evident  by  many  passages  of  Scripture  ;  as.  Lev.  xxvi.  40—42. 
Deui.  xxxii.  36— 39.  1  Kings  viii.  21,  '22.  chap.  i.  4— 8.  Ezeic.  xx.  35,  36, 
37.     Hos.  V.  15,  vv-ith  chap.  vi.  1—3.  chap.  xiii.  9,  10.  chap.  xiv.  throughout. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    ED^VARD^T.  205 

rupted  herself,  still  continued  to  be  figuratively  God's  wife.     It  is 
concerning  apostate  Israel,  who  had  forsaken  and  renounced  her 
husband,  and  gone  after  other  lovers,  and  whom  God  had  renounc- 
ed, put  away,  and  given  her  a  bill  of  divorce ;  (verse  8,)  so  that 
her  recovery  could  not  be,  by  giving  her  assurance  of  her  good 
estate  as  still  remaining  his  wife,  and  that  God  was  already  mar- 
ried unto  her,  for  that  was  not  true,  and  is  not  consistent  with  the 
context.     And  whereas  it  is  said,  verse  14,  "  Return,  O  backsliding 
children,   saith  the   Lord ;  for  I  am  married  unto  you,  and  I  will 
take  you  one  of  a  city ;"  /  am  married,  in  the  Hebrew^,  is  in  the 
preterperfect  tense  ;  but  you  know^.  Sir,  that  in  the  language  of  pro- 
phecy, the  pretertense  is  very  commonly  put  for  the  future.     And 
w^hereas  it  is  said,  verse  19,  "  How  shall  I  put  thee  among  the  chil- 
dren ?  And  I  said,  Thou  shalt  call  me  My  father ;"  I  acknowledge 
this  expression  here,  My  Father,  and  in  Rom.  viii.  15,  is  the  lan- 
guage of  faith.     It  is  so  two  ways,   1st,  It  is  such  language  of  the 
soul,  as  is  the  immediate  effect  of  a  lively  faith.     I  acknowledge, 
that  the  lively  exercises  of  faith  do  naturally  produce  satisfaction 
of  a  good  state,   as  their  immediate  effect.     2d,  It  is  a  language 
which,  in  another  sense,  does  properly  and  naturally  express  the 
very  act  of  faith  itself,  yea,  the  first  act  of  faith  in  a  sinner,  before 
which  he  never  was  in  a  good  state.     As  thus,  supposing  a  man  in 
distress,  pursued  by  his  enemies  that  sought  his  life,  should  have 
the  gates  of  several  fortresses  set  open  before  liim,  and  should  be 
called  to  from  each  of  them  to  fly  thither  for  refuge  ;  and  viewing 
them  all,  and  one  appearing  strong  and  safe,  but  the  rest  insufficient, 
he  should  accept  the  invitation  to  that  one,  and  fly  thither  with  this 
language,  "  This  is  my  fortress  ;  this  is  my  refuge.     In  vain  is  sal- 
vation looked  for  from  others.     Behold  I  come  to  thee ;  this  is  my 
sure  defence."     Not  that  he  means  that  he  is  already  within  the 
fortress,  and  so  in  a  good  estate.     But,  this  is  my  chosen  fortress^ 
in  the  strength  of  which  I  trust,  and  to  which  I  betake  myself  for 
safety.     So  if  a  woman  were  solicited  by  many  lovers,  to  give  her- 
self to  them  in  marriage,   and  beholding  the  superiority  of  one  to 
all  the  rest,  should  betake  herself  to  him,  with  this  language,  "This 
is  my  husband,  behold  I  come  unto  thee,  thou  art  my  spouse  ;'* 
not  that  she  means  that  she  is  already  married  to  him,  but  that  he 
is  her  chosen  husband,  etc.     Thus  God  offers  himself  to  sinners  as 
their  Sa\dour,  their  God  and  Father;  and  the  language  of  the  heart 
of  him  who  accepts  the  offer  by  faith,  is,  "  Thou  art  my  Saviour ; 
in  vain  is  salvation  hoped   for  from  others  :  thou   art  my  God  and 
Father."     Not  that  he  is  already  his  child,  but  he  chooses  him, 
and  comes  to  him,  that  he  may  be  one  of  his  children ;  as  in  Jer. 
iii.  19,  Israel  calls  God  his  Father,  as  the  way  to  be  put  among  the 
children,  and  to  be  one  of  them,  and  not  as  being  one  already;  and 
in  verses  21,  22,  23,  she  is  not  brought  out  of  a  careless  and  secure 


296  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

State,  by  knowing  that  the  Lord  is  her  God,  but  she  is  first  brought 
to  consideration  and  sense  of  her  sin  and  misery,  weeping  and 
supplications  for  mercy,  and  conviction  of  tlie  vanit)^  of  other  sav- 
iours and  refuges,  not  only  before  she  has  assurance  of  her  good 
estate,  but  before  she  is  brought  to  fly  to  God  for  refuge,  that  she 
may  be  in  a  good  estate. 

"  As  to  the  instance  of  Job,  I  would  only  observe,  that  while  in 
his  state  of  sore  affliction,  though  he  had  some  painful  exercises  of 
infirmity  and  impatience  under  his  extreme  trials,  yet  he  was  very 
far  from  being  in  such  a  frame  as  I  intended,  when  I  spoke  of  a 
secure,  careless,  carnal  frame.  I  doubt  not,  nor  did  I  ever  ques- 
tion it,  that  the  saints'  hope  and  knowledge  of  their  good  estate,  is 
in  many  cases  of  great  use  to  help  them  against  temptation,  and  tlie 
exercises  of  corruption. 

"  With  regard  to  the  case  of  extraordinary  temptations  and  buf- 
fettings  of  Satan,  which  you  mention,  I  do  not  very  well  know  what 
to  say  further.  I  have  often  found  my  own  insufficiency  as  a  coun- 
sellor in  cases,  where  melancholy  and  bodily  distemper  have  so 
much  influence,  and  give  Satan  so  great  advantage,  as  appears  to 
me  in  the  case  you  mention.  If  the  Lord  do  not  help,  w^hence 
should  we  help  ?  If  some  Christian  friends  of  such  afflicted  and 
(as  it  were)  possessed  persons,  would,  from  time  to  time,  pray  and 
fast  for  them,  it  might  be  a  prcper  exercise  of  Christian  charity, 
and  the  likeliest  way  I  know  for  relief.  I  kept  no  copy  of  my  for- 
mer letter  to  you,  and  so  do  not  remember  fully  what  I  have  al- 
ready said  concerning  this  case.  But  this  I  have  often  found  with 
such  melancholy  people,  that  the  greatest  difficulty  does  not  lie  in 
giving  them  good  ad\ice,  but  in  persuading  them  to  take  it.  One 
thing  I  think  of  great  importance,  which  is,  that  such  persons  should 
go  on  in  a  steady  course  of  performance  of  all  duties,  both  of  their 
general  and  particular  calling,  without  suffering  themselves  to  be 
diverted  from  it  by  any  violence  of  Satan,  or  specious  pretence  of 
his  whatsoever,  properly  ordering,  proportioning  and  timing,  aD 
sorts  of  duties,  duties  to  God,  public,  private  and  secret,  and  duties 
to  man,  relative  duties,  of  business  and  conversation,  family  duties, 
duties  of  friendsiiip  and  good  neighbourhood,  duly  proportioning 
labo'ur  and  rest,  intentness  and  relaxation,  without  suffering  one 
dut}"  to  crowd  out  or  intrench  upon  another.  If  such  persons  could 
be  persuaded  to  this,  I  think,  in  this  way,  they  would  be  best  guar- 
ded against  the  de\il,  and  he  would  soonest  be  discouraged,  and  a 
good  state  of  body  would  be  most  likely  to  be  gained,  and  persons 
would  act  most  as  if  they  trusted  and  rested  in  God,  and  would  be 
most  in  the  way  of  his  help  and  blessing. 

"With  regard  to  what  you  write  concerning  immediate  revalations, 
I  have  thought  of  it,  and  I  find  I  cannot  say  any  thing  to  purpose, 
without   drawing  out  this  letter  to  a  very  extraordinary  lengtii,  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  297 

I  am  already  got  to  such  length,  that  I  had  need  to  ask  your  ex- 
cuse.    I  have  written  enough  to  tire  your  patience. 

"  It  has  indeed  been  with  great  difficulty  that  I  have  found  time 
to  write  much.  If  you  knew  my  extraordinary  circumstances,  I 
doubt  not,  you  would  excuse  my  not  writing  any  more.  I  acknow- 
ledge the  subject  you  mention  is  very  important.  Probably  if  God 
spares  my  life,  and  gives  me  opportunity,  I  may  wTite  largely  upon 
it.  I  know  not  how  Providence  will  dispose  of  me  ;  I  am  going 
to  be  cast  on  the  wide  world,  with  my  large  family  of  ten  children. 
— I  humbly  request  your  prayers  for  me  under  my  difficulties  and 
trials. 

"  As  to  the  state  of  rehgion  in  this  place  and  this  land,  it  is  at 
present  very  sorrowful  and  dark.  But  I  must,  for  a  more  particu- 
lar account  of  things,  refer  you  to  my  letter  to  Mr.  M'Laurin  of 
Glasgow,  and  Mr.  Robe.  So,  asking  a  remembrance  in  your 
prayers,  I  must  conclude,  by  subscribing  myself,  with  much  esteem 
and  respect, 

"  Your  obliged  brother  and  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards."^ 


*  The  Postscript  of  this  letter,  under  date  of  July  6,  1750,  is  reserved  for 
subsequent  page. 


Vol.  L  38 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Commencement  of  Difficulties  at  Xorthcmipton. —  Case  of  Disci- 
pline. — Conduct  of  the  Church. —  Change^  as  to  admission  of 
members,  effected  by  Mr.  Stoddard. —  Controversy  with  Dr. 
Mather. — Lax  mode  of  admission,  early  introduced  into  Mas- 
sachusetts.— Reasons  of  its  extensive  adoption. — Mr.  Edwards 
makes  known  his  sentiments. —  Violent  ferment  in  the  town. — 
Causes  of  it. — Mr.  Edwards  not  allowed  to  preach  on  the  stib- 
jf>ct. — Publishes  "  (^ual  if  cations  Jor  Communion.''^ — Totvn  re- 
quest Mr.  Williams  and  Mr.  Clark  to  answer  Mr.  Edwards' 
Lectures. — Difficulties  in  the  choice  of  a  Council. 

In  the  progress  of  this  work,  we  are  now  arrived  at  one  of  the 
most  painful  and  most  surprising  events,  recorded  in  the  Ecclesias- 
tical history  of  New  England — the  separation  of  Mr.  Edwards  from 
the  Church  and  Congregation  at  Northampton.  In  detailing  die 
various  circumstances  connected  with  it,  it  is  proper,  instead  of 
utterin"-  reproaches,  to  present  a  statement  of  facts ;  for  which,  as 
the  reader  will  see,  vre  have  been  able  to  procure  abundant  mate- 
rials and  those  of  the  best  character. 

IVIr.  Eduards  was,  for  many  years,  unusually  happy  in  the  es- 
teem and  love  of  his  people  ;  and  there  was,  during  that  period,  the 
f'reatest  prospect  of  his  living  and  dying  so.  So  admirably  was 
he  qualified  for  the  discharge  of  his  official  duties,  and  so  faithful 
in  the  actual  discharge  of  them,  that  he  was  probably  the  last  minis- 
ter in  New  England,  who  would  have  been  thought  likely  to  be 
opposed  and  rejected  by  the  people  of  his  charge.  His  uniform 
kindness,  and  tliat  of  Mrs.  Edwards,  had  won  their  affection,  and 
the  exemplary  piety  of  both  had  secured  their  confidence  ;  his  very 
able  and  original  exhibitions  of  truth  on  the  Sabbath,  had  enlight- 
ened their  understandings  and  their  consciences  ;  his  published 
works  had  gained  him  a  reputation  for  powerful  talents,  both  in 
Europe  and  America,  which  left  him  without  a  competitor,  either 
in  the  Colonies  or  the  mother  country  ;  his  professional  labours  had 
been  blessed  in  a  manner  wholly  singular ;  he  had  been  the  means 
of  gathering  one  of  the  largest  churches  on  earth  ;  and,  of  such  of 
the  members  as  had  any  re'al  evidence  of  their  own  piety,  the  great 
feody  ascribed  their  conversion  to   his  instrumentality.     But  tlie 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARliS.  299 

€vent  teaches  us  the  instability  of  all  earthly  things,  and  proves  how 
incompetent  we  are  to  calculate  those  consequences  which  depend 
on  a  cause  so  uncertain  and  changeable,  as  the  Will  of  man. 

in  the  year  1744,  about  six  years  before  the  fnial  separation, 
Mr.  Edwards  was  informed,  that  some  young  persons  in  tlie  town, 
who  were  members  of  the  church,  had  licentious  books  in  their 
possession,  which  they  employed  to  promote  lascivious  and  obscene 
conversation,  among  the  young  people  at  home.  Upon  farther  en- 
quiry, a  number  of  persons  testified,  that  they  had  heard  one  and 
another  of  them,  from  time  to  time,  talk  obscenely ;  as  what  thev 
were  led  to,  by  reading  books  of  this  gross  character,  which  they 
had  circulating  among  them.  On  the  evidence  dius  presented  to 
him,  Mr.  Edwards  thought  that  the  brethren  of  the  church  ought 
to  look  into  the  matter ;  and,  in  order  to  introduce  it  to  their  atten- 
tion, he  preached  a  Sermon  from  Heb.  xii.  15,  16,  "  Looking  dili- 
gently, lest  any  man  fail  of  the  grace  of  God,  lest  any  root  of  bit- 
terness springing  up  trouble  you,  and  thereby  many  be  defiled:  lest 
there  be  any  fojiiicator,  or  profane  person,  as  Esau,  ivho  for  one 
morsel  of  meat  sold  his  birthright.^''  After  sermon,  he  desired  the 
brethren  of  the  church  to  stop,  told  them  what  information  he  had 
received,  and  put  the  question  to  them  in  form,  Whether  the 
church,  on  the  evidence  before  them,  thought  proper  to  take  any 
measures  to  examine  into  the  matter?  The  members  of  the 
church,  with  one  consent  and  with  much  zeal,  manifested  it  to  be 
their  opinion  that  it  ought  to  be  enquired  into ;  and  proceeded  to 
choose  a  number  of  individuals  as  a  Committee  of  Enquiry,  to  as- 
sist their  pastor  in  examining  into  the  affair.  After  this,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards appointed  the  time  for  the  Committee  of  the  church  to  meet 
at  his  house  ;  and  then  read  to  the  church  a  catalogue  of  the  names- 
of  the  young  persons,  whom  he  desired  to  come  to  his  house  at 
the  same  time.  Some  of  those,  whose  names  were  thus  read,  were 
the  persons  accused,  and  some  were  witnesses;  but,  through  mere 
forgetfulness  or  inadvertence  on  his  part,  he  did  not  state  to  the 
ohurch,  in  which  of  these  two  classes,  any  particular  individual  was 
included ;  or  in  what  character,  he  was  requested  to  meet  the  Com- 
mittee, whether  as  one  of  the  accused,  or  as  a  witness. 

When  the  names  were  thus  published,  it  appeared  that  there 
were  but  few  of  the  considerable  families  in  town,  to  which  some 
of  the  persons  named,  either  did  not  belong,  or  were  not  nearly 
related.  Many  of  the  church,  however,  having  heard  the  names 
read,  condemned  what  they  had  done,  before  they  got  home  to  their 
own  houses ;  and  whether  this  disclosure  of  the  names,  accompanied 
with  the  apprehension,  that  some  of  their  o\m  connexions  were  in- 
cluded in  the  list  of  offenders,  was  the  occasion  of  the  alteration  or 
not;  it  is  certain  that,  before  the  day  appointed  for  the  meeting  of 
the  Committee  arrived,  a  great  number  of  heads  of  families  altered 
their  minds,  and  declared  they  did  not  think  proper  to  proceed  vCs 


300  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDVVARDis. 

they  had  begun,  and  that  then-  children  should  not  be  called  to  aii 
account  in  such  a  way  for  such  conduct ;  and  the  town  was  sud- 
denly all  in  a  blaze.  This  strengthened  the  hands  of  the  accused  r 
some  refused  to  appear  ;  others,  who  did  appear,  behaved  with 
a  great  degree  of  insolence,  and  contempt  of  the  authority  of  the 
church  :  and  little  or  nothing  could  be  done  further  in  the  affair. 

This  w^as  the  occasion  of  weakening  Mr.  Edwards'  hands  in  the 
work  of  the  ministry ;  especially  among  the  young  people,  with 
whom,  by  this  means,  he  greatly  lost  his  influence.  It  seemed  in 
a  great  measure  to  put  an  end  to  his  usefuhiess  at  Nortliampton, 
and  doubtless  laid  a  foundation  for  his  removal,  and  will  help  to  ac- 
count lor  the  surprizing  events  wliich  we  are  about  to  relate.  He 
certainly  had  no  great  visible  success  after  this ;  the  iniluences  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  v/ere  chiefly  vvitliheld,  and  stupidity  and  worldly- 
mindedness  were  greatly  increased  among  them.  Tliat  great  and 
singular  degree  of  good  order,  sound  morals,  and  visible  religion- 
which  had  for  years  prevailed  at  Northampton,  soon  began  gradually 
to  decay,  and  the  young  people  obviously  became  from  that  time 
more  wanton  and  dissolute. 

Another  difTiculty  of  a  far  more  serious  nature,  originated  from 
an  event,  to  wliich  I  have  already  alluded.  The  church  of  Nordi- 
ampton,  like  the  other  early  churclies  of  New-England,  was  formed 
on  the  plan  of  Strict  Communion:  in  other  words,  none  were  ad- 
mitted to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  but  those  who,  after 
due  examination,  were  regarded  as  regenerate  persons.  Such 
was  the  uniform  practice  of  the  church,  from  its  formation,  during 
the  ministry  of  Mr.  Mather,*  and  for  a  considerable  period  after 
the  settlement  of  Mr.  Stoddard,  the  predecessor  of  Mr.  Edvrards. 
How  early  ]Mr.  Stoddard  changed  his  sentiments, on  this  subject,  it 
is  perhaps,  impossible  novr  to  decide.  On  important  subjects,  men 
usually  change  their  sentinients  some  time  before  they  avow  such 
change  ;  and  clergymen  often  lead  their  people  gradually  and  im- 
perceptibly to  adopt  tlie  opinions,  or  the  practice,  which  they  have 
embraced,  before  they  avow  them  in  set  form  from  the  desk.  Mr. 
Stoddard  publicly  avowed  this  change  of  his  opinions  in  1704,  when 
he  had  been  in  the  ministry  a.t  Northampton  thirty-tivo  years;  and  en- 
deavoured, at  that  time,  to  introduce  a  corresponding  change  in  the 
practice  of  the  church.  He  then  declared  himself,  in  the  language  of 
Dr.  Hopkins,  to  be  "  of  the  opinion,  that  unconverted  persons,  consi- 
dered as  such,  had  a  right  in  the  sight  of  God,  or  by  his  appoint- 
ment, to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper ;  that  therefore  it  was 


*  Mr.  JVIatliGr,  the  fir^t  minister,  beiran  to  preach  at  Nortiianipton,  in  the  sum- 
mer of  1058,  was  ordainod  Juno  18th,  16G1,  and  died  July  24tli,  1669.  Mr. 
Stoddard  began  to  preach  there  soon  after  the  death  of  Mr.  M.  and  wa.s  ordain- 
ed Sept.  nth,  1672. 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARD:?.  301 

iheir  duty  to  come  to  that  ordinance,  though  they  knew  they  had 
no  true  goodness  or  evangelical  holmess.  He  mahitained,  that  vi- 
sible Christianity  does  not  consist  in  a  profession  or  appearance  of 
that,  wherein  true  holiness  or  real  Christianity  consists ;  that  there- 
fore the  profession,  which  persons  make,  in  order  to  be  received  as 
visible  members  of  Christ's  church,  ought  not  to  be  such  as  to  ex- 
press or  imply  a  real  compliance  with,  or  consent  to,  the  terms  of 
this  covenant  of  grace,  or  a  hearty  embracing  of  the  gospel :  so 
that  tiiey  v/ho  really  reject  Jesus  Christ,  and  dislike  the  gospel 
vvay  of  salvation  in  their  hearts,  and  know  that  this  is  true  of  them- 
selves, may  make  the  profession  without  lying  and  hypocrisy,"  [on 
the  principle,  that  they  regard  the  sacrament  as  a  converting  ordi- 
nance, and  partake  of  it  with  the  hope  of  obtaining  conversion.] 
'*  He  formed  a  short  Profession  for  persons  to  make,  in  order  to  be 
admitted  into  the  church,  answerable  to  this  principle  ;  and  accord- 
ingly persons  were  admitted  into  the  church,  and  to  the  sacrament^ 
on  these  terms.  Mr.  Stoddard's  principle  at  first  made  a  great 
noise  in  the  countiy ;  and  he  was  opposed,  as  introducing  some- 
thing contrary  to  the  principles,  and  the  practice,  of  almost  all  the 
churches  in  New-England;  and  the  matter  was  publicly  contro- 
verted betW'Cen  him  and  Dr.  Increase  Mather  of  Northampton. 
However,  through  Mr.  Stoddard's  great  influence  over  the  people 
of  Northampton,  it  was  introduced  there,  though  not  without  oppo- 
sition :  by  degrees  it  spread  very  much  among  ministers  and  peo- 
ple in  that  county,  and  in  other  parts  of  New-England." 

The  first  publication  of  Mr.  Stoddard,  on  the  subject,  was  enti- 
tled, "  A  Sermon  on  the  Lord's  Supper,"  from  Exodus  xii.  47,48, 
])rinted  in  the  year  1707.  In  this  Sermon  he  attempted  to  prove, 
"  That  Sanctification  is  not  a  necessary  qnaJification  to  partaking 
in  the  LonFs  Supper  f  and,  "  That  the  Lordh  Supper  is  a  Con^ 
verting  Ordinance.^''  To  tliis  Sermon,  a  Reply  was  given  in  1708, 
entitled,  "  A  Dissertation,  wherein  the  Strange  Doctrine  lately  pub- 
lished in  a  Sermon,  the  tendency  of  which  is  to  encourage  Unsanc- 
lified  Persons,  while  such,  to  approach  the  Holy  Table  of  the 
Lord,  is  examined  and  confuted,  by  Increase  Mather,  D.D."^     To 


*  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  copy  of  Mr.  Stoddard's  Sermon.  From 
that  of  Mr.  Mather,  I  find  that  he  insisted  on  the  fiiUowing  points  :  1  •  That 
it  is  not  to  be  imagined,  that  John  Baptist  judged  all  baptized  by  him  to  be 
regenerate :  2.  That,  if  unregenerate  persons  mie^ht  not  be  baptized,  the 
Pharisees  would  not  have  been  blamed  for  neglecting  baptism :  3.  That 
the  children  of  God's  people  should  be  baptized,  who  are  generally  at  that 
time  in  a  natural  condition:  4.  That  a  minister,  who  knows  himself  unre- 
generate, may  nevertheless  lawfully  administer  baptism  and  the  Lord's 
Supper  :  5.  That  as  unregenerate  persons  might  lawfully  come  to  the 
Passover,  they  may  also  come  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  if  they  have  know- 
ledge to  discern  the  Lord's  Body :  6.  That  it  is  lawful  for  unregenerate 
men  to  mve  a  Testimony  to  the  Death  of  Christ :  that  thev  need  to  learn 


302  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ibis  Reply  Mr.  Stoddard  published  a  Rejoinder,  in  1T09,  entitled, 
"  An  Appeal  to  the  Lear  ed  ;  being  a  Vindication  of  the  right 
of  visible  saints  to  the  Lord's  Supper,  though  they  be  destitute  of  a 
savmg  work  of  God's  Spirit  on  their  Hearts  ;  against  the  exceptions 
of  Mr.  Licrease  JMather."*  Whether  any  reply  was  published  by 
Dr.  Mather,  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain. 


what  Goci  teaches  in  this  ordinance,  and  to  profess  what  christians  profess, 
viz.  their  tjeed  of  Christ  and  the  saving-  virtue  of  his  bloo  ! :  7.  That  there 
is  no  certain  knowledge,  who  has  sanctifying  grace :  8.  That  the  opposite 
doctrine  hardens  men  in  their  unregeneracy :  9.  That,  if  unregenerate 
persons  have  no  right  to  the  Sacrament,  then  those  who  come  must  have 
assurance:  10,  Tiiat  no  other  country  does  neglect  this  ordinance  as  we 
in  New  England;  and  that  in  our  own  nation  at  home,  so  in  Scotland, 
Holland,  Denmark,  Sueedland,  Germany  and  France,  they  do  generally 
celebrate  the  memorial  of  Christ's  death. 

Dr.  Mather,  after  stating  in  his  Preface  that,  notwithstanding  his  errors, 
he  esteems  Mr.  Stoddard  as  a  pious  brother,  and  an  able  minister  of  the 
New  Testament,  a  serious  practical  preacher,  in  his  ministry  designing  t!ie 
conversion  and  edification  of  the  souls  of  men  ;  and  that  as  such,  he  does 
and  shall  love  and  honour  him,  and  hopes  to  meet  him  where  Llther  and 
Zui>Gi.ius  differ  not  in  their  opinions;  and  that  still  he  beheves,  by  his 
Sermon,  he  has  grieved  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God  in  the  hearts  of  many  of 
hi:^  children,  and  gratified  the  spirit  of  the  world  ;  proceeds  to  allege  the 
following  considerations  :  1.  That  Mr.  Stoddard's  sentiments  are  contrary 
to  many  express  passages  of  Scripture :  2.  That  unsanctified  men  are  not 
fit  materials  for  a  Church,  and  therefore  not  for  admission  to  the  Lord's 
Supper;  and  that  in  primitive  times  none,  but  those  thought  to  be  converted, 
w^ere  received  into  particular  churches  :  3.  That  unsanctified  persons  are 
not  in  covenant  with  God,  and  therefore  have  no  right  to  the  Seal  of  the 
Covenant:  4.  That  there  is  no  Scriptural  Promise  of  Conversion  by  the 
Sacrament:  5.  That,  if  a  Converting  Ordinance,  it  is  not  to  be  withheld 
from  the  most  profane :  6.  That  that  opinion,  which  is  contrary  to  the 
profession  and  practice  of  the  churches,  in  the  primitive  and  purest  times 
of  Christianity,  and  to  the  judgment  of  the  most  eminent  Reformers,  and 
which  agrees  with  the  doctrme  of  Papists,  and  the  looser  sort  of  Protestants, 
ought  not  to  be  received  among  the  churches  of  New  England :  7.  That  it 
is  impossible  for  unregenerate  persons,  while  sucli.  to  be  w^orthy  partakers 
of  the  Lord's  Table. — These  were  followed  by  an  examination,  and  at- 
tempted refutation,  of  each  of  Mr.  Stoddard's  arguments,  separately  consi- 
dered. 

*This  Appeal  consists  of  three  parts:  I.  An  attempted  Refutation  of 
the  Arguments  of  Dr.  Mather:  H.  An  attempted  Refutation  of  the 
Arguments  of  Mr.  Vines,  Mr.  Baxter,  and  Mr.  Charnock  :  HL  A  Series 
of  direct  Arguments,  eleven  in  number,  to  prove  his  main  positions.  Of 
these  the  first  five  and  the  ninth  are  found  in  the  Sermon.  The  others  are  as 
follows:  6.  Unsanctified  men  may  attend  all  other  ordinances,  and  duties  of 
worship;  and  therefore  the  Lord's  Supper  :  7.  Some  unsanctified  persons 
are  in  external  covenant  with    God,*  and  therefore   may   come  to  the 


*  By  "  some  unsanctified  persons"  in  this  and  the  following  heads,  Mr.  S. 
refers  to  those  professors  of  religion  in  good  standing,  who  in  their  own  view 
and  in  the  view  of  others  are  ©bviously  not  cliristians. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIBENT    EDWAllBS.  303 

That  Mr.  Stoddard  sincerely  believed  the  principles,  which  he 
maintained,  to  be  taught  in  the  word  of  God,  cannot  be  doubted. 
He  also  declares  explicitly,  in  the  commencement  of  the  Appeal, 
that  he  does  not  maintain,  that  churches  ought  to  admit  to  their 
holy  communion  such  as  are  not,  in  the  judgment  of  charity,  true  be- 
lievers ;  and  that  his  object  was  to  direct  those,  that  might  have  scru- 
ples of  conscience,  about  participation  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  be- 
cause they  had  not  a  work  of  saving  conversion.* 

The  adoption  of  these  principles  by  the  people  of  Northam})ton; 
is  not  however  to  be  imputed  chiefly  to  the  influence  of  Mr.  Stod- 
dard. It  w-as  the  lax  side  of  the  question,  which  he  had  espoused  ; 
the  side,  to  which  the  human  heart,  in  all  cases,  instinctively  inclines 
— that,  to  which  every  church,  unless  enlightened  and  watchful,  is 
of  course  in  danger  of  incHuing.  Another  circumstance,  which 
probably  had  considerable  influence  in  persuading  that  church,  as 
well  as  many  others,  to  adopt  the  practice  in  question,  may  be 
found  in  the  unhappy  Connexion  of  Things  Spiritual,  and  Secular, 
in  the  early  history  of  New-England.  So  vast  a  proportion  of  the 
first  planters  of  this  country  were  members  of  the  christian  church, 
that  not  to  he  a  church-memher,  was  a  public  disgrace  ;  and  no 
man,  who  had  not  tliis  qualification,  was  considered  capable  of  hold- 
ing any  civil  office.  The  children  of  the  first  planters,  also,  with 
comparatively  lew  exceptions,  followed  the  example  of  their  pa- 
rents, and  enrolled  their  names  in  the  church  calendar;  and  there 
is  reason  to  believe,  that  a  large  proportion  of  them  were  possessed 
of  real  piety.  Sdll  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  a  considerable 
number  of  them,  on  the  whole,  were  of  a  difierent  character.  In 
the  third  and  fourth  generations,  the  number  of  this  latter  class  in- 
creased to  such  a  degree,  as  to  constitute,  if  not  a  majority,  yet  a 
large  minority,  of  the  whole  population ;  but,  such  is  the  influence 

Lord's  Supper:  8.  It  is  lawful  for  some  unsanctified  persons  to  carry  them- 
selves as  saints,  and  therefore  they  may  attend  on  that   Sacrament : 

10.  Some  unsanctitied  persons  convey  to  their  children  a  right  to  the  sacra- 
ment of  Baptism,  and  therefore  have  a  rig-ht  to  the  Lord's  Supper :  11.  The 
invisible  church  catholick  is  not  the  prmie  and  principal  subject  of  the 
seal  of  the  covenant,  and  therefore  some  unsanctified  persons  have  that 
right. 

It  is  not  improbable,  that  Dr.  Mather  published  a  reply  to  the  "  Appeal 
to  the  Learned."  If  he  did  not,  it  could  not  have  been  owing  to  any  in- 
herent, nor  probably  to  any  supposed,  ditScuity  in  answering  the  arguments 
which  it  presents.  At  this  day  the  only  difficulty,  which  the  controversy 
can  occasion,  is  this  : — How  such  arguments  could  have  satisfied  a  man  of 
£0  much  acuteness  and  worth  as  Mr.  Stoddard.  But  the  distinctness,  v/ith 
which  objects  are  seen,  depends  not  merely  on  the  light  which  shines  upon 
them :  the  eyes  also  must  be  fully  open,  and  films,  if  they  exist,  must  be- 
removed. 

*  How  Mr.  Stoddard  could  reconcile  these  and  various  similar  declara- 
tions with  his  main  principle,  probably  every  one  will  be  at  a  loss  to  ex- 
plain. 


304  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  national  customs,  it  was  still  thou2;ht  as  necessary  to  a  fair  repu- 
tation, and  to  full  qualification  for  office,  to  make  a  public  profes- 
sion of  religion,  as  beiore  ;  and  the  Church,  by  thus  inclosing  within 
its  pale  the  whole  rising  generation,  gathered  in  a  prodigious  number 
of  h}^ocrites  ;  and  to  make  a  profession  of  religion,  began  to  be, 
on  the  part  of  numbers,  an  act  of  the  same  import,  as  it  has  long 
been  on  the  part  of  the  civil,  military  and  naval,  officers  of  England, 
*'  to  qualify,''^  by  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Supper.     In  this  case, 
however,  there  was  a  real  difficulty,  that  pressed  upon  the  con- 
science.    A  profession  of  rehgion,  while  it  was  viewed  as  a  most 
solemn  transaction,  on  the  part  of  the  individual  making  it,  was  also 
at  first  universally  regarded  as  a  profession  of  personal  piety  ;  and 
to  make  it  without  piety,  was  looked  upon  as  a  sin  of  most  aggra- 
vated character.     In  this  crisis,  when  the  only  alternative  was,  loss 
of  reputation  and  ineligibility  to  office,  or  the  violation  of  con- 
science ;  any  plan,  which  prevented  that  loss,  and  yet  offered  a 
salvo  to  the  conscience,  must  have  met,  very  extensively,  a  wel- 
come reception.     It  is  however  far  from  being  tiue,  as  Dr.  Hop- 
kins appears  to  suppose,  that  Mr.  Stoddard  was  the  first,  who  in- 
troduced this  practice  into  the  churches  of  New-England.     The 
<jreneral  Synod  of  Massachusetts,  which  met  at  Boston  in  1679, 
^peak  of  the  prevalence  of  this  practice,  even  at  that  early  period, 
(twenty-six  years  before  its  introduction  into  the  church  at  North- 
ampton,) as  one  cause  of  the  Divine  judgments  on  New-England  ; 
and  insist  on  a  general  reformation  in  this  respect,  as  one  means  of 
^averting  those  judgments.*     Yet,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to 
discover,  Mr.  Stoddard  was  the   first,  who  pubhcly  advocated  this 
practice  ;  and  there  can  be  no  doubt,  that  the  unhesitating  support 
of  it,  by  a  man  of  his  excellence,  and  weight  of  character,  contri- 
buted, not  a  little,  in  the  existing  circumstances  of  the  country,  to 
satisfy  the  scruples  of  many  conscientious  minds,  and  to  introduce 
it  into  a  considerable  number  of  churches. 

At  the  settlement  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  1727,  this  alteration  in  the 


*Two  questions  were  presented  for  the  consideration  of  that  Synod:  1. 
'-What  are  the  evils,  which  have  provoked  the  Lord  to  bring  his  judg- 
ments upon  New  England?"  2.  "  What  is  to  be  done,  that  these  evils  may 
be  reformed?"  In  answer  to  the  second  question,  the  Synod  observe,  1. 
-'  Inasmuch  as  the  present  standing  generation,  both  as  to  leaders  and  peo- 
ple, is  for  the  greater  part  another  generation  than  what  was  in  New- 
England  forty  years  ago ;  for  ns  to  declare  our  adherence  to  the  Faith  and 
Order  of  the'Gospel,  according  to  what  is  from  the  Scripture  expressed  in 
the  Platform  of  Church  discipline,  may  be  a  good  means  to  recover  those, 
who  have  erred  from  the  truth,  and  to  prevent  apostacy  for  the  future." 
2.  "  It  is  requisite  that  persons  be  not  admitted  unto  Communion  in  the 
Lord's  Supper,  without  making  a  personal  and  public  profession  of  their 
Faith  and  Repentance,  either  orally  or  in  some  other  way,  so  as  shall  be  to 
the  just  satisfaction  of  the  church;  and  that  therefore,  both  elders  and 
churches  be  duly  watchful  ^nd  circumspect  in  this  matter.  "—Mr.  Stoddard 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  305 

qualifications  required  for  admission  into  the  Church,  had  been  in 
operation  about  twenty-two  or  three  years ;  a  period,  during  which, 
the  great  body  of  the  members  of  any  church  will  be  changed. 
This  lax  plan  of  admission  has  no  where  been  adopted  by  a  church, 
for  any  considerable  length  of  time,  without  introducing  a  large 
proportion  of  members  who  are  destitute  of  piety ;  and,  although 
Mr.  Stoddard  was  in  other  respects  so  faithful  a  minister,  and  so 
truly  desirous  of  the  conversion  and  salvation  of  his  people,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  that  such  must  have  been  the  result  during  so  long 
a  period  in  the  Church  at  Northampton. 

"  Mr.  Edwards,"  observes  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  had  some  hesitation 
about  this  matter  when  he  first  settled  at  Northampton,  but  did  not 
receive  such  a  degree  of  conviction,  as  to  prevent  his  adopting  it 
with  a  good  conscience,  for  some  years.  But  at  length  his  doubts 
increased ;  which  put  him  upon  examining  it  thoroughly,  by  search- 
ing the  scriptures,  and  reading  such  books  as  were  written  on  the 
subject.  The  result  was,  a  full  conviction  that  it  was  wrong,  and 
that  he  could  not  retain  the  practice  with  a  good  conscience.  He 
was  fully  convinced  that  to  be  a  msihle  christian,  was  to  put  on  the 
visibility  or  appearance  of  a  real  christian ;  that  a  profession  of 
Christianity  was  a  profession  of  that,  wherein  real  Christianity  con- 
sists; and  therefore  that  no  person,  who  rejected  Christ  in  his  heart, 
could  make  such  a  profession  consistently  with  truth.  And,  as  the 
ordinance  of  the  Lord's  Supper  was  instituted  for  none  but  visible 
professing  christians,  that  none  but  those  w^ho  are  real  christians  have 
a  right,  in  the  sight  of  God,  to  come  to  that  ordinance  :  and,  conse- 
quently, that  none  ought  to  be  admitted  thereto,  who  do  not  make  a 
profession  of  real  Christianity,  and  so  can  be  received,  in  a  judgment 
of  charity,  as  true  friends  to  Je^us  Christ. 

"  When  Mr.  Edwards'  sentiments  were  generally  known  in  the 
spring  of  1749,*  it  gave  great  offence,  and  the  town  was  put  into  a 

was  a  member  of  this  convention,  and  voted  for  these  Propositions.  Mr. 
Mather,  at  the  dose  of  his  Treatise,  quotes  this  result  of  the  Synod  with 
some  force;  yet  without  directly  urging  on  Mr.  Stoddard  the  charge  of 
inconsistency,  or  even  mentioning-  that  he  v^'as  a  member  of  that  Synod. 
Mr.  Stoddard,  in  his  Appeal,  to  avoid  the  imputation  of  having  changed 
his  sentiments,  alleges  that  a  part  of  the  Synod  proposed  to  recommend, 
that  persons^  previous  to  their  admission  to  the  Churchy  should  make  a 
relation,  before  the  churchy  of  the  work  of  the  Hohj  Spirit  on  their  hearts ; 
that  he  opposed  this,  and  voted  with  the  majority,  for  the  second  proposi- 
tion as-a  substitute  ;  and  that  that  was  still  his  opinion. — This  statement, 
however,  does  not  relieve  the  difficulty ;  for  the  principle,  for  which  he 
actually  voted,  is  directly  inconsistent  with  that,  which  he  avows  in  the 
Sermon  on  the  Lord's  Suppei,  and  in  the  Appeal  to  the  Learned. 

*  Mr.  Edwards  divulged  his  sentiments  to  some  of  his  people,  several  years 
before  this;  and  in  1746  unfolded  them  clearly,  in  the  Treatise  on  Religious 
Affections;  but  they  were  not  officially  made  known  to  the  church,  nor  do  they 
appear  to  have  been  generally  known  to  the  public,  until  he  communicated 
them  freelv  to  the  Standing  Committee,  in  February,  1749. 

Vol.  1.  39 


306  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDVvAllDS. 

great  ferment ;  and,  before  he  was  heard  in  his  own  defence,  or  it 
was  known  by  many  Avhat  his  principles  were,  the  general  cry  was 
to  have  him  dismissed,  as  what  would  alone  satisfy  them.  This 
was  evident  from  the  whole  tenor  of  tlieir  conduct ;  as  they  neg- 
lected and  opposed  the  most  proper  means  of  calmly  considering, 
and  so  of  thoroughly  understanding,  the  matter  in  dispute,  and  per- 
sisted in  a  refusal  to  attend  to  what  Mr.  Edwards  had  to  say,  in 
defence  of  his  principles.  From  the  beginning  to  the  end,  they 
opposed  the  measures,  vrhich  had  the  best  tendency  to  compromise 
and  heal  the  difficulty  ;  and  with  much  zeal  pursued  those,  which 
were  calculated  to  make  a  separation  certain  and  speedy.  He  . 
thought  of  preaching  on  the  subject,  that  they  might  know  what 
were  his  sentiments,  and  the  grounds  of  them,  (of  both  which  he 
was  sensible  that  most  of  them  vrere  quite  ignorant,)  before  they 
took  any  steps  for  a  separation.  But,  that  he  might  do  nothing  to 
increase  the  tumult,  he  first  proposed  the  thing  to  the  Standing 
Committee  of  the  church ;  supposing,  that  if  he  entered  on  the 
subject  publicly  v.ith  their  consent,  it  would  prevent  the  ill  conse- 
quences, which  otherwise  he  feared  would  follow.  But  the  most 
of  them  strenuously  opposed  it.  Upon  which  he  gave  it  over  for 
the  present,  as  what,  in  such  circumstances,  would  rather  blow  up 
the  fire  to  a  greater  height,  than  answer  the  good  ends  proposed." 
This  unhappy  state  of  feeling  in  Northampton  was  owing  to  va- 
rious causes  ;  among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  following  : 

1.  The  proposal,  in  1744,  to  investigate  the  conduct  of  some  of 
the  younger  professors  of  religion,  who  were  said  to  have  circulat- 
ed obscene  and  licentious  books : — a  proposal,  which  had  been  ori- 
ginally approved  of,  and  voted,  by  the  whole  church  unanimously, 
and  to  accomplish  which,  they  had  at  once  appointed  a  Committee 
of  inquiry;  but  to  which  many  of  them  became  violently  opposed, 
as  soon  as  they  feared,  that  the  discipline  of  the  church  might  fall 
on  their  ovv^n  children  ; — had  proved, — such  is  the  nature  of  man — 
the  occasion  of  a  settled  hostility  to  Mr,  Edwards,  on  the  part  of  a 
considerable  number  of  the  most  influential  families  in  the  town. 
He,  Vvho,  in  injuring  another,  does  violence  to  his  own  conscience 
and  dishonour  to  religion,  finds  usually  but  one  practical  alterna- 
tive :  he  either  repents  and  acknowledges  his  sin ;  or  he  goes  on 
adding  injury  to  injury,  and  accumulating  a  more  rancorous  hatred 
against  the  person  whom  he  has  injured. 

2.  The  lax  mode  of  admitting  members  into  the  church,  had 
prevailed  about  forty-five  years;  and  though  both  Mr.  Stoddard 
and  Mr.  Edwards  had  been  most  desirous  of  the  prevalence  of 
vital  religion  in  the  church,  yet,  a  wide  door  having  been  thrown 
open  for  the  admission  of  unconverted  members,  as  such,  it  cannot 
but  have  been  the  fact,  that,  during  this  long  period,  many  uncon- 
verted members  should,  through  that  door,  have  actually  obtained 
admission  into  the  church.     In  powerful  revivals  of  religion,  it  is 


LIFE    OF    FIIESIDENT    EDWaRDS.  307 

no  easy  task, — even  wliere  the  examination  is  most  strict,  and  the 
danger  and  guilt  of  a  false  profession  are  most  clearly  exhibited, — 
to  prevent  the  admission  of  a  considerable  number  of  unconverted 
members  into  the  church. 

3.  All  the  unconverted  members  of  the  church,  and  the  great 
body  of  the  congregation,  would  of  course  be  friendly  to  the  lax 
mode  of  admission.  To  relinquish  it,  Vvould  have  been,  on  their 
part,  to  relinquish  the  only  resting  place,  v/hich  human  ingenuity 
had  discovered,  in  which  an  unconverted  person  might — for  a  time 
at  least — remain  unconverted,  both  securely  and  lawfully. 

4.  The  lax  mode  of  admission  had  been  introduced  by  Mr. 
Stoddard,  a  man  greatly  venerated  for  his  wisdom  and  piet}'  ;  and 
a  large  majority  of  the  more  serious  members  of  the  church,  as 
well  as  all  of  a  different  character,  regarded  it  as  unquestionably 
scriptural,  and  verily  believed  that  the  mode,  recommended  by 
Mr.  Edwards,  would  unlawfully  exclude  multitudes  from  the 
Lord's  Supper,  who  were  fully  entitled  to  partake  of  that  sacra- 
ment. 

5.  All  the  churches  in  the  county,  except  two,  and  all  the 
clergy,  except  three,  approved  of  the  lax  mode  of  admission.  Ma- 
ny of  the  clergy  also  were,  at  this  time,  very  favourably  inclined  to 
the  sentiments  usually  denominated  Arininian  ;  and  very  hostile  to 
those,  of  which  Mr.  Edwards  was  known  to  be  a  champion  not 
easily  met,  with  success,  in  the  field  of  argument.  Several  of  these 
gentlemen  proved  by  their  conduct,  that  they  were  not  unwilling  to 
assist  the  cause  of  disaffection  at  Northampton.     One  of  them  was 

connected  by  marriage  with  the    family  of  ,   akeady 

mentioned,  (a  family  of  considerable  wealth  and  influence  in  an 
adjoining  town,  which  had  long  discovered  a  personal  hostility  to 
Mr.  Edwards ;)  and  had  himself  entered  so  warmly  into  their  feel- 
ings, that,  when  the  case  came  to  its  issue,  even  the  opposers  of 
Mr.  Edwards  did  not,  for  with  decency  they  could  not,  propose 
him  as  a  member  of  the  Council.  Another  in  an  adjoining  town 
was  a  member  of  that  family,  and  cherished  all  its  feelings. 

6.  Another  individual  of  the  same  family,  li\ing  in  a  town  ad- 
joining, a  kinsman  of  ^Ir.  Edwards,  and  from  his  standing,  both 
civil  and  military,  possessed  of  considerable  influence,  was,  for  the 
six  years  previous  to  the  final  separation,  the  confidental  adviser  of 
the  disaffected  party  in  the  Church  and  congregation.  In  this 
course,  he  had  the  countenance  of  other  members  of  the  family,  of 
a  character  superior  to  his  ovm. 

"  Mr.  Edwards,"  observes  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  was'sensible  that  his 
principles  were  not  understood,  but  misrepresented,  through  the 
country ;  and  finding  that  his  people  were  too  warm,  calmly  to  at- 
tend to  the  matter  in  controversy,  he  proposed  to  print  what  he  had 
to  say  on  the  point ;  as  this  seemed  the  only  way  left  him  to  have 


308  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

a  fair  hearing.  Accordingly  his  people  consented  to  put  off  calling 
a  Council,  till  what  he  should  write  was  published."  With  this 
view  he  began  immediately  to  prepare  a  statement  and  defence  of 
his  own  sentiments,  and  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  about  two 
months  from  the  time  of  its  commencement,  sent  it  to  the  press — 
an  instance  of  rapidity  of  composidon  almost  unexampled  in  an  in- 
dividual, who  was  at  once  occupied  by  the  duties  of  an  extensive 
parish,  and  involved  in  the  embarrassments  of  a  most  perplexing 
controversy.  Notwithstanding  the  efforts  of  ]Mr.  Edwards,  the 
printing  of  the  work  was  not  completed  until  August.  It  was  enti- 
tled, "  An  Humble  Enquiry  into  the  Rules  of  the  word  of  God, 
concerning  the  Qualifications  requisite  to  a  complete  standing  and 
full  communion  in  the  Visible  Christian  Church ;"  and  contains  a 
discussion  of  the  question  agitated  between  himself  and  his  people, 
"Whether  aiiv  persons  ought  to  be  admitted  to  full  communion  in 
the  Christian  Church,  but  such  as,  in  the  eye  of  a  reasonable  judg- 
ment, are  ti'uly  christians  ?" — a  discussion  so  thorough  and  conclu- 
sive, that  it  has  been  the  standard  work  with  evangehcal  di\ines 
from  that  time  to  the  present. 

It  was  a  very  painful  consideration  to  jMr.  Edwards,  that,  while 
the  circumstances,  in  which  he  was  placed,  constrained  him  to  de- 
clare his  sentiments  from  the  press,  the  "  Appeal  to  the  Learn- 
ed," the  production  of  a  man  so  much  loved  and  venerated  at 
Northampton,  and  so  much  respected  throughout  New-England, 
his  own  colleague  too,  and  his  own  grand-father,  was  the  work,  and 
the  only  work  of  any  respectability,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
question,  which  he  should  be  obliged  publicly  to  examine  and  re- 
fute. But  his  feelings  on  this  subject,  he  has  himself  explained. 
"  It  is  far  from  a  pleasing  circumstance  of  this  publication,  that  it  is 
against  what  my  honoured  Grand-father  strenuously  maintained, 
botli  from  the  pulpit,  and  the  press.  I  can  truly  say,  on  account 
of  this  and  some  other  considerations,  it  is  what  I  engage  in  with 
the  greatest  reluctance,  that  ever  I  undertook  any  public  service 
in  my  life.  But  the  state  of  things  with  me  is  so  ordered,  by  the 
sovereign  disposal  of  the  great  Governor  of  the  world,  that  my  do- 
ing this  appears  to  me  very  necessary,  and  altogether  unavoidable. 
I  am  conscious,  that  not  only  is  the  interest  of  religion  concerned 
in  this  affair,  but  my  own  reputation,  future  usefulness,  and  my 
very  subsistence,  all  seem  to  depend  on  my  freely  opening  and  de- 
fending myself  as  to  my  principles,  and  agreeable  conduct  in  my 
pastoral  charge,  and  on  my  doing  it  from  the  press  :  In  which  way 
alone,  am  I  able  to  state  and  justify  my  opinion  to  any  purpose,  be- 
fore the  country,  (which  is  full  of  noise,  misrepresentations,  and 
many  censures  concerning  this  affair,)  or  even  before  my  own  peo- 
ple, as  all  would  be  fully  sensible,  if  they  knew  the  exact  state  of 
the  case. — I  have  been  brought  to  this  necessity  in  Divine  Provi- 
dence, by  such  a  situation  of  affairs,  and  coincidence  of  circum- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    ED  WARD?!.  oOD 

Stances  and  events,  as  I  choose  at  present  to  be  silent  about;  and 
which  it  is  not  needful,  nor  perhaps  expedient,  for  me  to  publish 
to  the  world." 

The  people  of  Northampton  manifested  great  uneasiness  in  wait- 
ing for  this  publication,  before  it  came  out  of  the  press ;  and  when 
it  was  published,  some  of  the  leading  men,  afraid  of  its  ultimate 
effect  on  the  minds  of  the  people,  did  their  utmost  to  prevent  its 
extensive  perusal,  and  it  was  read  by  comparatively  a  small  num- 
ber. Some  of  those  who  read  it,  of  a  more  cool  and  dispassionate 
temper,  were  led  to  doubt  whether  they  had  not  been  mistaken. 
To  prevent  a  result  so  unpropitious,  it  was  regarded  as  essentially 
important,  that  the  publication  of  IMr.  Edwards  should,  if  possible, 
be  answered  ;  and  a  rumour  having  been  circulated,  that  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Williams,  of  Lebanon,  was  preparing  a  Reply,  the  Town,  at 
their  meeting,  Nov.  9,  1749,  passed  the  following  vote. 

"  Voted,  That  Mr.  Ebenezer  Hunt  be  desired  to  wait  on  the 
Rev.  Solomon  Williams,  of  Lebanon,*  and  desire  of  him  a  copy  of 
his  Notes,  that  he  is  preparing  for  the  press,  in  opposition  to  the 
opinion  and  principles,  which  Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  last  book,  hath 
endeavoured  to  defend  and  maintain,  with  respect  to  the  admission 
of  members  into  complete  standing  in  the  Church  of  Christ ;  and 
voted  also,  that  the  Precinct  will  pay  Mr.  Hunt  what  is  reasonable 
for  his  trouble." 

On  consulting  Mr.  Williams,  it  was  found  that  his  Reply  would 
notjssue  from  the  press,  in  sufficient  season,  to  counteract  the  effect 
of  Mr.  Edwards'  Treatise  ;  and  a  rumour  having  been  circulated, 
that  the  Rev.  Peter  Clark,  of  Salem  Village,  (Danvers,)  was  also 
preparing  a  Reply,  the  Town,  at  their  meeting,  Jan.  1,  1750,  passed 
tlie  following  vote. 

"  Voted,  That  the  Committee  abovesaid  take  effectual  care  to 
employ  some  suitable  person,  that  is  going  to  Boston,  to  make  dili- 
gent enquiry  there,  Whether  Mr.  Peter  Clark,  of  Salem  Village, 
hath  undertaken  to  answer  Mr.  Edwards'  late  book,  respecting  the 
Quahfications  of  communicants  ;  and  if,  upon  enquiry,  he  can't  ob- 
tain good  evidence,  that  Mr.  Clark  hath  undertaken  to  answer  said 


*Th8  half  brother  of  this  gentleman,  the  Rev.  Elisha  Williams  of 
Wethersfield,  (Newington  parish,)  afterwards  (from  172G  to  1739)  Rec- 
tor of  Yale  College,  and  afterwards  Col.  Williams  of  the  Connecticut 
line,  in  the  attempted  expedition  against  Canada  in  174.T,  began  a  reply  to 
the  Treatise  of  Mr.  Edwards,  immediately  after  it  issued  from  the  press; 
but,  on  going  to  England  in  1749,  he  placed  his  papers  in  the  hands  of  his 
brother,  the  Rev.  Solomon  Williams  of  Lebanon.  This  gentleman  pub- 
lished his  reply  to  Mr.  Edwards,  in  1751. 


310  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

book,  that  then  the  person  be  desh-ed  to  go  to  Mr.  Clark,  and  de- 
sire him  to  WTite  an  answer  to  said  book,  as  speedily  as  may  be,  and 
that  the  person,  improved  and  employed  to  wait  upon  Mr.  Clark, 
be  paid  and  satisfied  out  of  the  treasury  of  the  first  Precinct." 

The  information  thus  obtained  not  proving  sadsfactory,  the  sub- 
ject was  again  agitated,  at  a  subsequent  meeting,  March  6,  1750, 
with  the  following  result : — "  After  conference,  the  question  was 
put — Whether  the  Precinct  desired  that  the  Rev.  IMr.  Clark,  ot 
Salem  Village,  should  be  applied  to,  to  ^mte  an  answer  to  Mr.  Ed- 
wards' late  book,  respecting  the  Qualifications,  necessary  in  order  to 
complete  standing  in  the  Christian  Church  ? — and  it  passed  in  the 
Affirmative  ;  and  then  I\Iajor  Ebenezer  Pomeroy  was  chosen  to 
apply  to  Mr.  Clark  for  the  end  abovesaid." 

Mr.  Clark  was  a  man  of  sound  evangelical  sentiments ;  and  Mr» 
Edwards,  feeling  the  utmost  confidence,  that  his  opinions  on  the 
subject  in  controversy  could  not  differ  materially  from  his  own,  ad- 
dressed to  him  a  frank  and  friendly  letter,  in  which  he  pointed  out 
the  misrepresentations,  which  had  been  made  of  his  own  principles, 
and  then  stated  them  in  a  clear  and  explicit  manner.*  The  con- 
sequence was  that  IVIr.  Clark  dechned  compl^nng  with  tlie  request 
of  the  town. 

"  Mr.  Edwards,"  continues  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  being  sensible  that 
his  Treatise  had  been  read  but  by  very  few  of  the  people,  renewed 
his  proposal  to  preach  upon  the  subject,  and  at  a  meeting  of  the 
bretlu'en  of  the  church  asked  their  consent  in  the  following  terms : 
"  I  desire  that  the  brethren  would  manifest  dieir  consent,  that  I 
should  declare  the  reasons  of  my  opinion,  relating  to  full  commu- 
nion in  the  Church,  in  lectures  appointed  for  that  end  :  not  as  an 
act  of  authority,  or  as  putting  the  power  of  declaring  the  whole 
counsel  of  God  out  of  my  hands  ;  but  for  peace's  sake,  and  to  pre- 
vent occasion  for  strife."  This  was  answered  in  the  negative. — 
He  then  proposed  that  it  should  be  left  to  a  few  of  the  neighbour- 
ing ministers.  Whether  it  was  not,  all  things  considered,  reasonable, 
that  he  should  be  heard  in  this  matter  from  the  pulpit,  before  the 
affair  should  be  brought  to  an  issue.  But  this  also  passed  in  the 
negative. 

"  However,  having  had  the  advice  of  the  ministers  and  messen- 
gers of  the  neighbouring  churches,  who  met  at  Northampton  to  ad- 
vise them  under  their  difficulties,  he  proceeded  to  appoint  a  Lecture, 
in  order  to  preach  on  the  subject ,  proposing  to  do  so  weekly,  till 
he  had  finished  what  he  had  to  say.  On  Monday  there  was  a 
society  meeting,  in  which  a  vote  was  passed  to  choose  a  committee 


'••  A  long  extract  from  this  letter  will  be  found  on  a  subsequent  page,  in  tlio 
preface  to  Mr.  Edwards'  Farewell  Sermon:  it  bears  date  May  7,  1750. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  311 

lo  go  to  Mr.  Edwards,  and  desire  him  not  to  preach  lectures  on  the 
subject  in  controversy,  according  to  his  declaration  and  appoint- 
ment ;  in  consequence  of  which  a  committee  of  three  men,  chosen  for 
this  purpose,  waited  on  him.  However,  Mr.  Edwards  thought  pro- 
per to  proceed  according  to  his  proposal,  and  accordingly  preached 
a  number  of  sermons,  till  he  had  finished  what  he  had  to  say  on  the 
subject.  These  lectures  were  very  thinly  attended  by  his  own 
people  ;  but  great  numbers  of  strangers  from  the  neighbouring 
towns  attended  them,  so  many  as  to  make  above  half  the  congrega- 
tion.    This  was  in  February  and  March,  1750. 

"  The  calKng  of  a  decisive  Council,  to  determine  the  matter  of 
difference,  was  now  more  particularly  attended  to  on  both  sides. 
Mr.  Edwards  had  before  this  insisted,  from  time  to  time,  that  they 
w^ere  by  no  means  ripe  for  such  a  procedure  :  as  they  had  not  yet 
given  him  a  fair  hearing,  whereby  perhaps  the  need  of  such  a  coun- 
cil would  be  superseded.  He  observed,  "  That  it  was  exceed- 
ingly unbecomJng  to  manage  religious  affairs  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance in  a  ferment  and  tumult,  w^hich  ought  to  be  managed  with 
great  solemnity,  deep  humiliation,  submission  to  the  awful  frowns 
of  heaven,  humble  dependence  on  God,  with  fervent  prayer  and 
supplication  to  him :  That  therefore  for  them  to  go  about  such  an 
affair  as  they  did,  would  be  greatly  to  the  dishonour  of  God  and 
religion ;  a  way  in  which  a  people  cannot  expect  a  blessing."  Thus 
having  used  all  means  to  bring  them  to  a  calm  and  charitable  temper 
without  effect,  he  consented  that  a  decisive  council  should  be 
called  without  any  further  delay. 

"  But  a  difficulty  attended  the  choice  of  a  council,  which  was 
for  some  time  insuperable.  It  was  agreed,  that  the  council  should 
be  mutually  chosen,  one  half  by  the  pastor,  and  the  other  half  by 
the  church :  but  the  people  insisted  upon  it,  that  he  should  be  con- 
fined to  the  county  in  his  choice.  Mr.  Edwards  thought  this  an 
unreasonable  restraint  on  him,  as  it  was  known  that  the  ministers  and 
churches  in  that  county  w^ere  almost  universally  against  him  in  the 
controversy.  He  indeed  did  not  suppose  that  the  business  of  tlie 
proposed  council  would  be  to  determine  whether  his  opinion  was 
right  or  not ;  but  whether  any  possible  way  could  be  de\ised  for  an 
accommodation  between  pastor  and  people,  and  to  use  tlieir  wisdom 
and  endeavour  in  order  to  effect  it.  And  if  they  found  this  im- 
practicable, they  must  determine,  whether  what  ought  in  justice  to 
be  done  had  aheady  actually  been  attempted,  so  that  there  was  no- 
thing further  to  be  demanded  b}^  either  of  the  parties  concerned, 
before  a  separation  should  take  place.  And  if  he  was  dismissed  by 
them,  it  would  be  their  business  to  set  forth  to  the  world  in  what 
manner  and  for  what  cause  he  w^as  dismissed :  all  which  were 
matters  of  great  importance  to  him,'and  required  upright  and  impartial 
judges.  Now  considering  the  greatinfluence  a  difference  in  religious 
opinions  has  to  prejudice  men  one  against  another,  and  the  close  con- 


312  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

nection  of  the  point,  in  which  most  of  ministers  and  churches  in  the  coun- 
ty differed  from  him,  with  the  matter  to  be  judged  of,  he  did  not  think 
they  could  be  reasonably  looked  upon  so  impartial  judges,  as  that  the 
matter  ought  to  be  w^holly  left  to  them.  Besides,  he  thought  that 
the  case,  being  so  new  and  extraordinary,  required  the  ablest  judges 
in  the  land.  For  these,  and  some  other  reasons,  which  he  offered, 
he  insisted  upon  liberty  to  go  out  of  the  county,  for  those  members 
of  the  proposed  council  in  wliich  he  w^as  to  have  a  choice.  In  this, 
the  people  strenuously  and  obstinately  opposed  him.  At  length 
they  agreed  to  leave  the  matter  to  a  council  consisting  of  the 
ministers  and  messengers  of  the  five  neighbouring  churches ;  who, 
after  they  had  met  ivAce.  upon  it,  and  had  the  case  largely  debated 
before  them,  were  equally  divided^  and  therefore  left  the  matter  un- 
determined. 

"  However,  they  were  all  agreed,  that  Mr.  Edwards  ought  to 
have  liberty  to  go  out  of  the  county  for  some  of  the  council.  And 
at  the  next  church  meeting,  which  was  on  the  26th  of  March,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards offered  to  join  with  them  in  calling  a  council,  if  they  would  con- 
sent that  he  should  choose  two  of  the  churches  out  of  the  county,  in 
case  the  council  consisted  of  but  ten  churches.  The  church  how- 
ever refused  to  comply  with  this,  at  one  meeting  after  another  re- 
peatedly; and  proceeded  to  warn  a  church  meeting  and  choose  a 
moderator,  in  order  to  act  without  their  pastor.  But,  to  pass  by 
many  particulars,  at  length,  at  a  meeting  of  the  church,  warned 
by  their  pastor,  May  3d,  they  voted  their  consent  to  his  proposal  of 
going  out  of  the  county  for  tw^o  of  the  churches  that  should  be  ap- 
plied to.  And  they  then  proceeded  to  make  choice  of  the  ten  min- 
isters and  churches,  of  which  the  council  should  consist.'* 


CHAPTER  XX. 

-History  of  his  own  Opinions  as 
to  the  point  in  Controversy. —  Consequences  of  declaring  them. 
— Proposal  to  preach  rejected  by  Committee. — Proposal  to  pidj- 
lish — First  movement  of  the  Precinct,  Oct.  16. — First  meeting 
of  the  Church,  Oct.  22. — Meeting  and  Votes  ofJJo.  JVov.  20. — 
lieply  of  Mr.  Edwards. — Meeting  of  Precinct,  Dec.  7. — Meet- 
ing of  Church,  Dec.  11. — Letter  of  Mr.  Edwards. — Prepara- 
tory Council  agreed  on,  Dec.  12. 

Having  given  this  very  brief  sketch  of  the  events,  which  led  to 
the  separation  of  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  people,  and  chiefly  in  the 
words  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  all  the 
facts  ;  I  shall  now  present  to  the  reader  a  more  enlarged  account  of 
these  events,  as  detailed  in  the  private  Journal,  kept  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, during  tliis  interesting  period  of  his  life. 

JOURNAL. 

"  I  have  had  difficulties  in  my  mind,  for  many  years  past,  with 
regard  to  the  admission  of  members  into  the  Church,  who  made 
no  pretence  to  real  godliness.  These  gradually  increased,  and  at 
length  to  such  a  degree,  that  I  found  I  could  not  with  an  easy  con- 
science, be  active  in  admitting  any  more  members  in  our  former 
manner,  \\-ithout  better  satisfaction.  In  consequence  of  this,  I  de- 
termined more  closely  to  apply  myself  to  an  enquiry  into  the  mat- 
ter, and  search  the  Scriptures,  and  read,  and  examine  such  books 
as  were  written  to  defend  the  admission  of  persons  to  the  sacra- 
ments, without  a  profession  of  saving  faith.  And  by  reading  and 
study,  I  found  myself  more  strengthened  in  my  reasons  to  the  con- 
trary. On  which  I  came  to  this  determination,  that  if  any  person 
should  offer  to  come  into  the  church  without  a  profession  of  godli- 
ness, I  must  decline  being  active  in  his  admission ;  which,  I  was 
sensible,  would  occasion  much  uneasiness  and  public  noise  and  ex- 
citement. However  I  came  to  this  resolution,  that  I  would  still 
continue  a  diligent  search,  improving  the  opportunity  which  Divine 
Providence  should  give  me  to  that  end,  until  somebody  should  offer 
to  come  into  the  church,  from  time  to  time  weighing  the  matter, 

Vol.  I.  40 


314  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

with  renewed  consideration  and  enquiry.  But  withal  1  judged, 
tliatit  would  not  be  best  wholly  to  conceal  my  difficuldes  until  then, 
lest  some  inconveniences  should  arise ;  and  particularly  I  thought 
of  this,  that  if  some  person  should  offer  to  come  into  the  church, 
whom  my  principles  would  oblige  me  to  reject,  and  should  give  no 
intimation  of  these  my  principles  until  then,  it  might  be  suspected 
that  I  rejected  the  person  from  personal  prejudice,  and  that  my  al- 
leging scruples  of  conscience  was  only  to  cloak  my  ill-will.  Hence 
I  took  some  opportunities,  some  years  ago,  freely  and  openly  to 
express  my  opinion  before  several  of  our  people  ;  which  occasioned 
it  to  be  talked  of  among  many  in  this  town,  and  in  other  parts  of 
the  land.  I  also  designedly  gave  some  intimations  of  my  notions 
of  Visible  Christians,  in  my  work  on  Religious  Affections  ; 
but  was  aware,  that  when  I  came  to  be  necessitated  to  act  upon 
my  principles,  and  on  this  foot  decline  admitting  any  who  should 
offer  themselves  to  be  received  to  the  communion,  this  would 
occasion  a  more  general  noise  and  tumult ;  and  therefore  I  deter- 
mined, if  I  lived  to  have  such  occasion,  that  I  would  in  the  first, 
go  and  freely  and  fully  declare  the  matter  to  Col.  Stoddard. 
But  it  was  so  ordered,  that  no  person  offered  to  join  the  church  for 
several  years,  and  not  till  after  the  Col's,  death.* 

"  But  some  time  the  last  of  December,  (1748,)  a  young  man, 
who  was  about  to  be  married, f  came  and  offered  to  come  into  tlie 
church.  I  told  him  my  opinion.  He  told  me  that  he  hoped  he 
could  make  such  a  profession  as  that  I  insisted  on,  and  would  take 
the  matter  into  consideration.  After  some  conversation,  it  was 
agreed,  that  I  should  draw  up  a  profession  of  religion,  which  he 
might  see,  vdien  he  should  come  again.  Accordingly  1  did  so  ; 
and  when  he  came  again  I  showed  him  the  profession  I  had  drawn, 
but  told  him  I  should  not  insist  upon  a  profession  in  those  words. 
He  might  draw  one  himself  in  his  own  words;  and,  if  the  more 
essential  things  of  true  religion  were  contained  in  it,  I  should  be  con- 
tent. He  desired  time  for  farther  consideration,  and  accordingly  I 
let  him  have  the  profession  I  had  drawn  to  consider  of.  He  after- 
wards came  again,  and  returned  the  profession  I  had  drawn,  and 
manifested  that  at  present  he  declined  coming  into  the  church  in 
this  way,  inasmuch  as  though  he  hoped  he  could  make  a  profession 
of  godliness,  he  did  not  tliink  that  he  was  obliged  to  make  it  in 
order  to  admission  into  the  church.  The  report  of  this  soon  made 
great  uneasiness  in  the  town. 

"  Some  time  in  February,  1749,  I  declared  the  matter  fully  to 


*  Col.  Stoddard  died  June  19, 1748. 

t  In  places  where  the  lax  method  of  admission  to  the  church  has  prevailed  in 
New  England,  it  has  been  the  usual  practice,  for  persons  about  to  be  married, 
to  unite  themselves  to  the  church,  for  the  baptism  of  their  children. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  315 

die  Committee  of  the  church,  and  proposed  it  to  them  whether 
they  were  ^viliing  that  I  should  dehver  the  reasons  of  my  opinion 
from  the  pulpit.  This  was  sti-enuously  opjiosed  by  several ;  one 
or  two  spoke  in  favour  of  my  preaching  on  the  subject;  but  the 
prevailing  voice  seemed  to  be  zealously  against  it.  Yet  the  neces- 
sity of  the  church  being  in  some  way  informed  of  the  reasons  of  my 
opinion,  seemed  to  be  allowed  by  all ;  and  therefore  those,  who 
opposed  my  preaching,  proposed  my  printing  my  reasons,  and  do- 
ing it  with  all  speed.  And  although  there  was  no  note  taken,  this 
seemed  to  be  the  general  conclusion,  that  they  must  be  informed 
of  my  reasons  from  the  press.  Accordingly  1  applied  myself,  with 
all  diligence,  to  prepare  something  for  the  press. 

"After  this,  a  young  w^oman*  came  to  my  house,  to  join  with  the 
church,  having  heard  of  my  opinion ;  the  town  by  this  time  being 
full  of  talk  of  it,  and  noise  about  it.  I  mentioned  to  her  my  opinion 
concerning  the  qualifications  of  communicants.  She  told  me  she 
had  heard  of  it,  but  hoped  she  could  make  such  a  profession  as  I 
required.  Then,  upon  enquiry,  she  gave  me  a  hopeful  account  of 
her  religious  experience,  and  the  operations  of  Divine  grace  upon 
her  mind ;  and  manifested  herself  ready  publicly  to  make  a  pro- 
fession of  religion,  agreeably  to  what  she  had  now  professed  in 
private.  I  then  desired  her  to  prepare  for  examination  with  re- 
spect to  her  doctrinal  knowledge,  and  to  come  to  me  again,  and  I 
would  draw  up  a  profession,  agreeably  to  what  she  had  expressed 
to  me,  against  she  came  again.  I  accordingly  did  so.  After  some 
time  she  came  again,  and  I  read  to  her  what  I  had  drawn  up.  She 
declared  herself  ready  to  own  that  profession,  but  said  that  she  was 
afraid,  by  what  she  had  heard,  that  there  would  be  a  tumult,  if  she 
came  into  the  church  in  that  way,  and  she  did  not  desire  to  be  the 
occasion  of  a  tumult  by  coming  into  the  church.  I  asked  her  if 
she  would  be  \villing,  publicly  to  make  such  a  profession,  if  the 
Committee  of  the  Church  would  consent  to  it.  She  said  she 
would. 

"  Now  I  perceived  so  great  a  ferment  in  the  tow^n,  that  I  was 
satisfied  it  was  not  best  to  preach  upon  the  subject,  for  the  present ; 
and  supposed  it  probable  there  w^ould  be  no  opportunity  to  be  heard, 
with  any  tolerable  degree  of  calmness  or  attention,  before  what  I 
was  writing  on  the  subject  was  published.  I  therefore  prosecuted 
my  wridng  with  the  utmost  possible  diligence. 

"  About  the  middle  of  April,  I  called  the  Committee  together 
and  informed  them,  that  as  they  seemed  to  wish,  at  their  last  meet- 
ing, diat  I  should  print  the  reasons  of  my  opinion,  so  I  had  laboured 
much  upon  the  matter,  and  had  almost  prepared  something  for  tlie 
press.      And  as  they  chose  that  I  should  print,  so  I  now  chose  it 


Mary  Uulbcrt 


316  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

also ;  since  I  had  laboured  so  far  in  it,  and  might  probably  say  to 
this  purpose,  as  I  am  informed  I  did,  "  that  the  frame  of  people's 
minds  was  now  such,  that  they  would  be  likely  to  hear  in  a  great 
ferment,  if  I  should  now  preach  on  die  subject."  But  told  them 
withal,  "that  the  people  ought  not  to  proceed  to  vote  for  a  separa- 
tion, until  they  were  informed  of  my  reasons  in  some  way  or  other." 
To  this,  one  of  diem  replied,  "  No,  that  would  be  unreasonable ;" 
and  nobody  said  any  thing  to  the  contrary  ;  but  all  seemed  to  ac- 
quiesce in  what  I  proposed,  and  in  waiting  for  my  reasons  from  the 
press. 

"  I  then  mentioned  to  them  the  case  of  the  young  woman  afore- 
said, who  desired  to  come  into  the  church,  and  read  to  them  the 
profession  of  religion  she  had  manifested  herself  ready  to  make,  and 
asked  them  whether  they  were  willing,  that  she  should  make  such  a 
profession  publicly,  rather  than  be  kept  out ;  the  case  being  as  it 
was,  that  I  could  not  in  conscience  be  active  in  admitting  persons, 
without  a  public  profession  of  godliness.  One  or  two  spoke  for  it, 
but  others  objected  against  it,  saying  that  for  the  church  to  consent 
to  this,  was  giving  up  the  case,  or  to  that  purpose.  I  told  them  that 
I  thought  that  the  church  would  nevertheless  have  the  same  advan- 
tage to  insist  on  my  receiving  those,  who  could  not  make  such  a 
profession,  and  that  I  was  then  willing  to  become  engaged,  never 
to  make  use  of  it  as  a  precedent ;  and  for  their  farther  security,  I 
offered  them  a  wTitten  promise,  in  the  following  words  : 

"  I,  the  subscriber,  do  hereby  signify  and  declare,  to  such  as  it 
may  concern,  that  if  my  people  will  wait,  until  the  book  I  am  pre- 
paring relative  to  the  admission  of  members  into  the  church,  is  pub- 
lished, I  will  resign  the  ministry  over  this  church,  if  the  church 
desires  it,  after  they  have  had  opportunity  pretty  generally  to  read 
my  said  book,  and  after  they  have  first  asked  advice  of  a  Council 
mutually  chosen,  and  followed  their  advice,  with  regard  to  the 
regular  steps  to  be  taken  previous  to  their  vote :  The  following 
things  also  being  provided,  \dz.  That  none  of  the  brethren  be  ad- 
mitted to  vote  in  this  affair,  but  such  as  have  either  read  my  said 
book,  or  have  heard  from  the  pulpit  what  I  have  to  say  in  defence 
of  the  doctrine,  which  is  the  subject  of  it ;  that  the  Society  will 
engage  that  I  shall  be  freed  from  all  rates ;  and  that  a  regular 
Council  do  approve  my  thus  resigning  my  pastoral  office  over  this 
church. 

"  Jonathan  Edwards. 

''Northampton,  April  13,  1749." 

"  But  still,  when  the  affair  of  the  admission  came  to  be  put  to 
vote,  there  were  but  three  out  of  fifteen  who  voted  for  it. 

"  Soon  after,  I  sent  my  book  to  the  printer,  urging  him  very 
much  not  to  delay  the  printing.     Accordingly,  the  impression  was 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  317 

very  speedily  begun,  even  before  the  printing  of  the  proposals  for 
subscription.  From  time  to  time,  I  renewedly  urged  the  printer  to 
hasten  the  impression,  and  also  wrote  to  Mr.  Foxcroft  to  do  his  ut- 
most to  forward  it;  who  accordingly  did  so,  as  he  informed  me. 

*'  Some  time  in  the  latter  part  of  July,  the  people  grew  very  un- 
easy, supposing  that  the  printing  w^as  needlessly  delayed ;  and 
therefore,  they  of  themselves  called  a  meeting  of  the  members  of 
the  church,  or  at  least  of  many  of  them,  to  determine  whether  to 
wait  any  longer  for  my  book.  And,  as  I  was  informed,  after  some 
discourse  on  the  matter,  they  determined  that  Col.  Dwight,^  who 
was  going  the  next  week  to  Boston,  should  make  enquiry  whether 
the  book  was  likely  to  be  speedily  finished,  and  send  word. 

"  Col.  D wight,  when  he  returned  from  Boston,  about  the  middle 
of  August,  brought  a  number  of  the  books  with  him,  and  about 
twenty  of  them  w^ere  dispersed  m  the  town.  After  this,  there 
seemed  to  be  less  noise  in  the  town,  until  some  time  in  October. 

"On  the  Sabbath,  Oct.  15th,  I  stayed  the  Church,  and  proposed 
our  setting  apart  a  day  for  fasting  and  prayer ;  and  put  the  matter 
to  vote,  in  the  following  words — "  That  a  day  be  set  apart  for  sol- 
emn fasting  and  prayer,  to  pray  to  God  that  he  would  have  mercy 
on  this  church,  under  its  present  dark  and  sorrowful  circumstances ; 
that  he  would  forgive  the  sins  of  both  minister  and  people ;  that 
he  would  make  us  to  be  of  a  right  spirit,  and  enlighten  us  all,  that 
we  may  know  what  the  mind  and  will  of  God  is ;  that  that  which  is 
agreeable  to  his  will,  and  that  alone,  may  be  established  ;  and  that 
God  would  restore  peace  and  prosperity  to  the  church." — This  was 
voted  by  a  general  concurrence.  Then  I  proposed  that  the  ser- 
vices of  the  day  should  be  carried  on  by  some  of  the  neighbouring 
ministers,  as  supposing  that  their  services  would  be  more  accepta- 
ble, and  less  liable  to  suspicion,  than  mine.  I  particularly  propos- 
ed Mr.  Woodbridge  of  Hatfield,  Mr.  Williams  of  Hadley,  and  Mr. 
Judd  of  West-Hampton  ;  they  being  nearest. 

"There  being  now  several  persons  in  the  town,  who  privately 
made  a  credible  profession  of  godliness,  who  were  not  in  the 
church,  and  hitherto  had  been  kept  out  of  it, — the  committee  of 
the  church  having  disallowed  of  their  admission  in  the  way  of 
making  such  a  profession  publicly,  as  aforesaid, — therefore  I  now 
made  a  proposal  to  the  church,  in  the  following  words  : — "  That 
those  ministers,  who  shall  be  called  to  assist  at  the  fast,  be  sought 
to  for  advice,  with  respect  to  the  admission  of  such  persons,  as  are 
able  and  willing  to  make  a  credible  profession  of  true  godliness ; 
not  that  either  minister  or  people  should  be  bound  by  their  advice, 
to  any  thing  contrary  to  their  consciences ;  but  to  see  if  they  can- 
not find  out  some  way,  in  which  these  persons  may  be  admitted, 
consistent  with  a  good  conscience  in  both  the  pastor  and  church, 

*  The  grand-father  of  President  Dwight. 


318  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

which  may  be  proceeded  in  for  the  present,  until  our  present  un- 
happy controversies  can  be  brought  to  an  issue." — Some  objections 
were  made  against  this — particularly,  that  it  was  high  time  that  the 
whole  affair  was  brought  to  an  issue,  with  regard  to  the  admission 
of  others,  as  well  as  of  those  who  stood  ready  to  make  a  profession 
of  godliness.  But  he  w^ho  made  the  objection,  afterwards  explain- 
ed himself  only  to  mean,  that  some  course  ought  speedily  to  be  ta- 
ken to  prepare  things  for  an  issue ;  and  particularly,  that  advice 
should  be  asked  concerning  measures  to  be  taken,  in  order  to  the 
people  being  generally  informed  of  my  reasons  for  my  opinion  re- 
specting Qualifications  for  full  communion  in  the  church  :  the  peo- 
ple being  now  in  no  way  to  be  informed,  there  being  but  few  of  my 
books  in  the  town,  and  that  they  had  not  been  generally  read,  and 
were  not  likely  to  be,  at  least  for  a  very  long  time,  wliich  others 
confirmed.  He  therefore  proposed,  that  some  of  the  neighbour- 
ing ministers  should  be  consulted,  with  regard  to  a  proper  course  to 
be  taken  by  the  church,  in  order  to  a  proper  information  of  the 
grounds  of  my  opinion,  that  things  might  be  speedily  ripened  for 
an  issue. 

"  Upon  this,  some  offered  it  as  their  opinion,  that  I  had  better 
deliver  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit.  Others  object- 
ed against  it ;  and  it  was  alleged  by  some,  that  there  had  been  suf- 
ficient information  of  tl>e  reasons  of  my  opinion  already,  or  to  that 
purpose,  that  the  leading  part  of  the  Church  had  read  my  book,  or 
most  of  the  leading  men  in  tlie  church,  and  that  it  was  therefore 
time  that  a  Council  was  called,  to  bring  the  controversy  to  an  issue. 
I  then  made  the  Church  this  offer,  Ihat,  if  they  insisted  upon  it, 
1  would  not  oppose  a  Council  being  called,  which  should  give  us 
advice  in  our  affairs  in  general,  and  which  should  have  power,  if 
they  saw  fit,  to  bring  our  ivhole  controversy  to  an  issue  ;  though  1 
could  not  ad\ise  to  it,  as  not  supposing  the  state  of  things  to  be 
ripe  for  it. — The  people  appearing  to  be  of  very  different  minds, 
about  the  matters  which  had  been  discoursed  of,  they  were  refer- 
red for  furdier  consideration  to  the  next  Sabbath,  and  it  was  deter- 
mined that  the  Fast  should  not  be  until  the  Thursday  following  that 
Sabbath. 

"The  next  day  being  Monday,  Oct.  16,  a  number  of  the  inha- 
bitants of  the  Precinct  drew  up  and  signed  the  following  writing, 
directed  to  the  Committee  of  the  Precinct,  viz. 

"To  the  Precinct  Committee  for  the  first  Precinct  in  Nortlianipton  : 

"  We,  the  subscribers,  desire  that  there  may  be  a  Precinct  meet- 
ing as  quick  as  may  be,  for  the  Precinct  to  take  into  consideration 
Mr.  Edwards'  doctrine,  with  respect  to  the  admission  of  members 
into  full  communion  into  the  church. 

"  1.  We  desire  that  Mr.  Edwards,  by  the  Precinct,  or  by  a  com- 
mittee which  the  Precinct  shall  appoint,  may  be  friendlily  and  in  a 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDEinT    EDWAIIDS.  oW) 

christian  manner  treated  with,  and  entreated  to  recede  or  come  hack 
from  his  principles,  which  he  has  pretended  to  maintain  in  his  late 
book,  against  his  own  practice,  and  Mr.  Stoddard's  practice  and 
principles,  ^^^th  respect  to  the  admission  of  church  members  :  which, 
if  he  refuses, 

"  2.  To  see  if  the  Precinct  will  come  into  his  notions  or  princi- 
ples, about  the  admission  of  church  members  :  which,  if  the  town 
refuse, 

"3.  Then  to  determine  whether  the  Precinct  do  not  think  that 
it  will  be  more  for  the  honour  of  God,  and  more  likely  to  promote 
the  interests  of  religion,  and  peace  and  comfort  in  the  Precinct,  to 
endeavour  after  a  separation,  or  any  thing  else,  which  the  Precinct 
shall  see  cause  to  come  into :  which  we  desire  may  be  done  in  the 
most  friendly  and  christian  manner  possible. 

"John  Hunt,  Gad  Lyman,  Ephraim  Wright,  Josiah  Pomeroy, 
Jonathan  Strong,  Jr.,  John  Lpiian,  James  Lyman,  Jonathan  Hunt, 
Joseph  Wright,  Gideon  Lyman,  Seth  Pomeroy. 

''JYorthampon,   Oct.  16,  1749." 

"  Accordingly  the  committee  issued  a  warrant,  in  terms  agree- 
able to  this  demand,  and  a  Precinct  meeting  was  warned  to  be  on 
the  very  next  Thursday,  and  it  was  convened  on  the  day  appointed, 
viz,  Thursday,  Oct.  19.  At  the  meeting  it  was  moved  and  insisted 
on  by  some,  that  it  should  be  put  to  vote.  Whether  I  should  not  he 
desired  to  deliver  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit  1^  and 
it  passed  in  the  negative.  And  there  being  several,  who  objected 
against  proceeding  on  the  business  specified  in  the  warrant,  that  it 
was  very  improper,  seeing  we  had  agreed  upon  a  day  of  fasting  and 
prayer,  to  seek  light  from  God,  that  such  steps  should  be  taken  be- 
fore that  day  was  passed,  the  meeting  was  therefore  adjourned  for 
a  fortnight. 

"  The  next  Sabbath,  Oct.  22,  the  Church  was  stayed,  accord- 
ing to  the  Sabbath  before,  and  it  was  proposed  that  there  should  be 
some  farther  discourse,  on  what  had  been  proposed  the  preceding 
Sabbath,  concerning  asldng  the  advice  of  neighbouring  ministers, 
about  the  admission  of  such  persons,  as  stood  ready  to  make  a  pro- 
fession of  godliness,  into  the  church,  without  delaying  until  our  whole 
controversy  should  be  brought  to  an  issue.  It  was  urged,  that  it 
was  uncertain  whether  our  affairs,  in  general,  could  be  brought  to  a 
speedy  issue  ;  that,  if  a  council  should  be  called  which  should  have 
the  power  to  issue  them,  it  was  uncertain  whether  they  would  think 
it  best  immediately  to  put  them  to  an  issue ;  and  particularly  that 
it  was  questionable,  whether  they  would  think  our  affairs  ripe  for 
an  issue,  until  the  generality  of  the  church  had  either  read  or  heard 
the  reasons  of  my  opinion  and  conduct,  with  regard  to  the  admis- 
sion of  members.  Then  it  was  said  by  one  of  the  brethren,  that 
it  would  be  proper  to  see  whether  the  church  would  agree  to  what 


320  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

I  had  proposed,  with  regard  to  the  admission  of  tliose  persons; 
inasmuch  as  the  church  had  never  yet  passed  any  vote  upon  it, 
however  it  had  indeed  been  negatived  by  the  church  committee. 
Yet  it  was  time  enough  to  ask  advice  of  ministers,  when  it  was 
seen  that  the  church  and  pastor  could  not  agree.  Whereupon  it 
was  put  to  vote.  Whether  the  church  would  allow  those,  who  were 
able  and  wiUlng  to  make  a  jjrofesslon  of  godliness,  to  be  admitted 
into  the  church,  in  the  way  of  publicly  making  such  a  profession, for 
the  present,  till  our  controversy  could  be  brought  to  an  issue  ;  and 
tliere  were  but  few  votes  for  it.  Then  the  forementioned  proposal 
was  put  to  vote,  viz.  To  ask  advice  of  neighbouring  ministers,  con- 
cej-ning  this  matter  ;  and  for  this  also  there  w^ere  but  few  votes. 

Then  another  thing  was  proposed  to  the  Chm'ch,  \dz.  That  the 
Church  would  manifest  their  willingness,  that  1  should  declare  the 
reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit ;  seeing  it  was  a  tiling,  that 
seemed  to  be  acknowledged,  and  not  disputed,  that  the  members 
of  the  church  in  general  had  not  been,  nor  v>ere  likely  to  be,  in- 
formed of  my  reasons  in  any  other  way  ;  and  that  it  was  most 
reasonable,  that  they  should  be  informed,  before  they  proceeded  to 
act  any  thing,  as  determining  whether  I  should  be  cast  out  of  my 
pastoral  office,  it  being  an  affair  of  vast  consequence  to  me  and  my 
family.  I  told  them  that  I  asked  a  manifestation  of  their  consent, 
not  because  I  doubted  of  my  right  to  preach  what,  I  was  satisfied, 
was  the  counsel  of  God,  without  asking  their  consent ;  but  I  chose 
to  proceed  in  the  most  peaceable  manner  possible,  and  in  that  way 
that  would  tend  most  to  prevent  occasion  of  strife.  After  very 
much  said  against  it  by  many  of  the  brethren,  it  was  put  to  vote  in 
the  following  words  : — "  i  desire  that  the  brethren  woidd  manifest 
their  consent,  that  I  should  declare  the  reasons  of  my  opinion,  re- 
lating to  Full  Communion  in  the  Church,  in  JLectures  appointed 
for  that  end,  not  as  an  act  of  authority,  or  as  putting  the  power  of 
declaring  the  whole  counsel  of  God  out  of  my  hands,  but  for  the 
sake  of  peace,  and  to  prevent  occasions  of  strife. ^^ — It  passed  in  the 
negative. 

Then  I  told  the  Church,  that  one  tiling  yet  remained,  which  I 
desired  of  them,  viz.  That  it  should  be  left  to  a  few  of  the  neigh-- 
bouring  ministers,  whether  it  be  not,  all  things  considered,  reasona- 
ble, that  1  should  be  heard  in  this  matter  from  the  pulpit,  before  the 
present  affair  should  be  brought  to  an  issue  ?  Some  things  were 
objected  with  much  strenuousness  against  it ;  and  I  was  charged 
^\ith  very  much  abusing  the  church,  by  my  management  with  respect 
to  the  admission  of  members.  One  said,  that  if  I  preached /or  my 
opinion,  somebody  else  ought  to  be  allowed  to  preach  against  it. 
I  replied,  that  my  business  was  to  defend  my  own  opinion :  the 
brethren  might  use  what  means  they  pleased,  for  the  defence  of  the 
contrary  opinion,  or  to  that  purpose.     After  much  said  by  many  of 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  321 

the  brethren,  the  leaving  this  matter  to  neighbouring  ministers,  was 
put  to  vote,  and  passed  in  the  negative. 

"  The  next  Thursday,  Oct.  26,  we  had  our  fast,   according  to 
appointment.* 

"  The  next  week,  on  Thursday,  Nov.  2,  1749,  the  Precinct 
met  again,  according  to  their  adjournment,  and  chose  a  committee 
of  nine,  to  confer  with  me,  and  consider  what  measures  are  proper 
to  be  taken,  in  order  to  issue  the  dispute  between  me  and  my  peo 
pie,  concerning  Qualifications  for  full  communion  in  the  church,  or 
to  that  purpose  5  and  then  adjourned  themselves  to  Thursday,  the 
week  following.  The  same  committee  came  to  me  the  next  day, 
and  told  me  for  what  they  were  chosen  by  the  Precinct,  and  asked 
me  whether  I  had  any  measures  to  propose.  I  told  them,  that  I 
had  already  proposed  what  I  supposed  to  be  reasonable  ;  in  that, 
in  the  first  place,  I  had  proposed,  that  my  people  should  give  me  a 
fair  hearing  of  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit,  and  that 
they  should  previously  manifest  tlieir  consent  to  it ;  seeing  that 
such  previous  manifestation  of  consent,  would  so  evidently  tend  to 
peace,  and  to  prevent  tumults  or  ferments  ;  and  secondly,  that  when 
they  had  refused  this,  I  had  proposed,  that  it  should  be  left  to  some 
of  the  neighbouring  ministers,  Whether  it  was  not  reasonable  that 
they  should  comply  with  this  proposal.  And  I  told  the  committee, 
that  I  still  insisted  upon  it  as  a  reasonable  thing,  that  they  should 
consent  to  hear  my  reasons  from  the  pulpit,  and  told  them  ^\ithal,  that 
they  might,  if  they  pleased,  use  means  to  know  what  could  be  said 
on  the  other  side.  They  might  either  employ  ministers  to  preach 
against  it  in  my  pulpit,  or  they  might  get  whom  they  pleased  to 
write  and  publish  his  reasons  against  it. 

They  then  told  me  that,  before  they  came,  they  had  agreed  to 
make  me  this  offer,  viz.  "  That  if  I  would  consent  to  it,  they  would 
endeavour  to  bring  the  Precinct  to  yield,  that  1  should  preach  in 
defence  of  my  opinion,  either  on  Lectures  appointed  for  that  end, 
or  on  the  Sabbath,  as  I  pleased  ;  provided  I  ivoidd  first  dratv  out 
each  sermon,  that  I  intended  to  preach,  at  large  in  a  legible  charac- 
ter, and  give  it  to  them,  and  give  them  opportunity  to  carry  it  to 
some  minister,  that  he  might  see  it,  and  prepare  an  answer  to  it,  be- 
fore I  delivered  it;  and  that  then  I  might  deliver  it,  if  Iwoidd  con- 
sent that  he  should,  from  the  pulpit,  deliver  his  answer  immediately 
after  it.^^  I  told  them,  that,  "  at  present,  I  could  not  think  it  to  be 
my  duty  to  comply  with  this  proposal,  unless  it  were  also  allowed, 
that  I  should  beforehand  see  the  discourse  of  my  antagonist,  as  he 
was  to  see  mine,  that  I  might  stand  on  even  ground  with  himJ'^ 

"  I  then  gave  them  some  reasons,  why  I  thought  it  not  a  regular 
proceeding,  for  the  Precinct  to  take  the  consideration  and  manage- 


*  A  blank  was  left  here  in  the  MS.  probably  to  give  some  account  of  this 
fast,  but  it  was  not  filled  up. 

Vol.  I.  41 


323  LIFE    OF    PRESlI>E?fT    EDWARD JJ. 

raent  of  this  Ecclesiastical  affair  into  their  hands,  in  liie  manner 
they  had  done.  But  they  insisted  on  it,  that  it  was  not  irregular. 
They  then  went  away  without  concluding  any  thing. 

*'  The  next  Monday,  Nov.  6,  the  Committee  met  again  by  them- 
selves, at  another  house,  and  concluded  upon,  and  drew  up,  the 
following  report : 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  Committee,  chosen  by  the  first  Prechict 
of  Northampton,  to  concert  what  measures  are  proper  for  said 
Precinct  to  take,  in  order  to  issue  the  dispute,  between  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Edwards,  minister  of  said  Precinct,  and  the  Precinct,  respect- 
ing the  admission  of  persons  to  complete  standing  in  the  Christian 
Church;  said  Committee  determined  to  report,  that  they  judge  that 
it  is  expedient,  that  the  Precinct  endeavour  that  there  may  be  a 
meeting  of  the  Church  in  said  Precinct,  to  see  if  the  Church  will 
apply  to  some  ofthe  neighbouring  ministers,  for  their  advice  and  coun- 
sel, respecting  measures  to  be  taken  by  the  Church  in  the  said  af- 
fair ;  which  application  to  the  ministers  aforesaid,  said  Committee 
judge  the  best  expedient  in  the  present  difficulty ;  which  conclu- 
sion the  Committee  came  into  unanimously,  having  previously  con- 
ferred with  I\Ir.  Edwards,  that  they  might  tlie  better  determine 
what  would  conduce  to  the  end  aforesaid, 

"  Ebenezer  Pomeroy,  John  Clark,  Joseph  Wright,  Noah  Cook, 
Samuel  IMather,  Noah  Wright,  Ebenezer  Hunt,  Seth  Pomeroy, 
Joseph  Hav.'ley. 

^^  A^orthamjHon,  Xov.  6,  1749." 

"This  VvTiting  was  shown  to  me  by  one  of  their  number,  the 
Wednesday  following,  on  the  evening  before  the  Precinct-meeting, 
to  which  they  were  to  make  their  report. 

"  The  next  day,  Thursday,  Nov.  9,  the  Precinct  met  again,  ac- 
cording to  adjournment,  to  receive  the  Report  of  the  Committee ; 
and  then  I  sent  the  following  letter  to  the  Precinct : 

'*  Dear  friends  and  brethren, 

"  I  never  heard  that  any  such  tiring  was  proposed,  or  thought  of 
by  the  Committee  of  the  Precinct,  as  is  proposed  i]i  their  Report, 
until  yesterday ;  their  determination  was  shown  me  last  night,  by  a 
messenger  from  them,  one  of  their  number ;  and  I  liave  had  no  op- 
portunity to  confer  with  the  Committee  about  it,  or  to  offer  any  ob- 
jection to  them  against  their  proposal.  I  therefore  thmk  it  requi- 
site, that  I  should  at  this  time  signify  to  you  the  reasons,  why  the 
thing  proposed  by  them  appears  to  me  not  to  be  regular  or  rea- 
sonable. 

"1.  As  the  Proposal  ofthe  Committee  is  expressed,  they  de- 
sire that  a  church  meeting  should  be  warned,  to  see  if  the  Church 
will  not  call  a  Council,  or  meeting  of  ministers,  to  advise  to  me  a- 


LIFE    OP    VHl',SIDEXT    EDWARDS.  35o 

sures  to  be  taken  by  the  C'hiircli,  in  order  to  issue  the  dispute  be- 
tween the  minister  of  the  PrecinH  and  tlie  Precinct,  ^^  hich  I  think 
is  not  proper.  If  the  Church  call  a  Council,  it  will  doubtless  be  in 
order  to  be  assisted)  with  regard  to  some  controversies  or  difficul- 
ties of  its  own,  and  not  to  remedy  the  disputes  of  the  Precinct. 
The  business  of  a  Precinct-meeting  is  to  manage  the  affairs  of  a 
Precinct ;  and  the  business  of  a  Church-meeting  is  about  the  af- 
fairs of  a  Church,  and  not  about  the  affairs  of  civil  societies.  It  is 
not  yet  certain,  that  there  is  any  dispute  or  ditFerence  between  the 
Pastor  and  the  Church j  for  this  has  never  been  properly  tried. 

"2.  If  I  do  not  misunderstand  the  Report  of  the  Committee,  it 
is  therein  proposed,  that  the  Church-meeting  should,  in  the  warn- 
ing, be  limited  to  a  particular  method  of  managing  the  business 
they  meet  upon,  viz.  To  consider,  whether  to  call  a  Council  of 
neighbouring  ministers,  to  advise  to  measures,  etc.  I  am  not 
against  warning  a  Church-meeting,  if  you  desire  it,  to  consider  of 
proper  measures  to  be  taken,  to  secure  and  promote  the  interests 
of  rehgion,  and  the  Church's  own  welfare,  under  its  present  cir- 
cumstances. But  I  do  not  know,  why  the  Church  should  be  lim- 
ited to  any  certain  method  of  proceeding,  which  the  Precinct  has 
thought  of.  The  Precinct  has  no  more  business  to  limit  or  direct 
the  Church  to  a  certain  method,  in  managing  its  affairs,  than  the 
Church  has  to  direct  and  limit  the  Precinct,  in  the  management  of 
its  affairs.  It  is  not  yet  known,  that  the  Church  will  not  them- 
selves agree  on  some  measures,  to  bring  their  own  difficulties  to  an 
end,  or  that  they  will  not  think  proper  to  choose  a  Committee  of 
their  own,  to  this  end,  w^ho  may  be  successful  in  contriving  a  me- 
thod, to  which  the  Church  may  agree,  which  may  supersede  the 
need  of  a  Council. 

"  My  purpose,  in  sending  in  this  writing  to  you,  is,  not  to  per- 
plex you,  nor  clog  any  reasonable  proceedings,  but  to  do  my  duty 
to  you,  as  your  guide  in  religious  matters,  and  that  I  may  do  what 
is  proper,  to  prevent  any  just  blame,  that  you,  or  I  myself,  might 
hereafter  fall  under ;  and  therefore,  I  hope  that  what  I  have  said, 
will  be  taken  in  good  part,  from  your  affectionate  pastor,  who  de- 
sires that  you  may  go  in  the  way  of  your  duty,  and  in  the  w^ay  of 
God's  blessing,  and  may  be  a  people  happy  in  his  favour. 

"  Jonathan  Edwards, 

''  J^orthamjyton,  Kov.  9,  1749." 

"  The  Precinct,  notwithstanding  this,  at  this  meeting  accepted 
the  Report  of  the  Committee,  and  passed  the  following  vote  : — 
"  Voted,  That  Deac.  Noah  Cook,  and  Deac.  Ebenezer  Pomeroy, 
wait  on  Mr.  Edwards,  and  desire  him  to  call  a  meeting  of  the  first 
Church  in  Northampton,  to  determine  by  a  vote  in  said  meeting, 
1st.  Whether  there  he  not  a  dispute,  between  Mr.  Edwards,  Pastor 
of  the  Church  in  said  Precinct  and  the  Church,  respecting  the  ques- 


324  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

tion  he  hath  argued  in  his  book  last  published  ;  and  if  it  shall  ap- 
pear, that  there  is  a  dispute  between  him  and  them,  respecting  the 
question  aforesaid,  then,  2d.  To  see  if  the  Church  will  apply  to 
some  neighbouring  ministers  for  advice,  as  to  what  course  the 
Church  shall  take,^^ 

"  They  also  added  ten  more  to  the  Committee  of  the  Precinct, 
chosen  at  their  former  meeting  5  so  that  the  Committee  for  manag- 
ing this  affair  for  the  Precinct,  now  consisted  o( nineteen.  Those, 
who  were  added,  were,  Col.  Dwight,  Capt.  Baker,  Jonathan 
Strong,  Capt.  Roger  Clap,  Josiah  Parsons,  Capt.  Jolm^ Lyman, 
Increase  Clark,  Lieut.  James  Lyman,  Lieut.  Hunt,  and  Eleazer 

"  This  meeting  was  still  continued  and  adjourned  for  four  weeks. 
The  next  day,  Deac.  Cook  and  Deac.  Pomroy  came  to  me,  as 
they  were  directed,  and  brought  a  copy  of  the  Vote  of  the  Pre- 
cinct, desiring  me  to  warn  a  meeting  of  tlie  church,  etc.  as  afore- 
said. 

"  The  Sabbath  following,  Nov.  12,  I  warned  a  meeting  of  the 
church  in  the  following  general  terms : — "  I  desire  that  there  may 
be  a  meeting  of  this  church,  in  this  place,  to-morrow,  at  one  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  to  consider.  What  course  ought  to  be  taken  by  this 
Church,  under  its  present  difficulties,  with  respect  to  the  admission 
of  members  into  the  Church^ — The  church  accordingly  met  tlie 
next  day,  Monday,  Nov.  13th.  Tlie  meeting  was  opened  by 
prayer.  And  after  some  things  were  said,  as  much  blaming  me 
for  warning  the  church  meeting  in  such  general  terms,  and  not  in 
the  manner  I  had  been  directed  by  the  Precinct,  and  being  told 
that,  if  I  still  refused,  the  Precinct  would  warn  a  church  meeting 
themselves,  without  me ;  I  gave  the  reasons  why  I  did  not,  when  I 
warned  the  meeting,  specify  in  the  warning  those  particulars  on 
which  the  Precinct  insisted  :  As  1,  That  I  judged  it  would  be  a 
bad  precedent,  and  a  tiling  of  hurtful  consequence,  for  a  church 
thus  to  allow  itself  to  be  subject  to  the  prescriptions  of  a  Precinct- 
meeting  ;  and  said  further  to  this  purpose,  that  it  was  an  unreasona- 
ble way  of  managing  church  affairs,  to  bring  them  first  into  a  Pre- 
cinct-meeting, and  there  to  consider,  and  debate  them,  and  come 
to  a  conclusion  what  should  be  done  ;  and  all  this  in  the  absence  of 
the  Pastor,  he  being  designedly  excluded ;  and  then,  after  all 
things  are  setded,  and  ripened  for  execution  in  the  Precinct-meet- 
ing, to  send  their  orders  to  the  Pastor,  to  call  a  church  meeting,  to 
pass  those  conclusions  of  theirs  into  church-acts,  and  execute  what 
they  had  before  determined  should  be  done.  It  appeared  to  me  a 
way,  that  had  a  tendency  wholly  to  make  void  all  the  power  of 
churches,  and  to  render  church  meetings  a  mere  nullity,  and  to  set 
the  Pastor  aside  altogether  as  a  cypher,  so  that  he  shall  not  so 
much  as  be  present,  when  ecclesiastical  matters  are  debated,  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAl  DS.  325 

rij3ened,  and  brought  to  a  determination,  to  have  any  opportunity  to 
speak  his  mind,  or  say  one  word  as  attempting  to  enlighten  the 
church  with  regard  to  what  is  to  be  done  ;  but  is  only  made  their 
organ,  or  an  instrument  in  their  hands,  and  subject  to  their  will,  to 
bring  things  to  execution,  which  they  have  settled  and  resolved  on 
wholly  without  him. 

"  2.  That  as  to  the  latter  thing,  for  which  I  was  directed  to  call 
a  church  meeting,  viz. — To  see  whether  the  church  will  apply  to 
the  neighbouring  ministers  for  advice,  as  to  what  course  the  church 
shall  take — I  looked  upon  it  unreasonable ;  because  all  the  neigh- 
bouring ministers,  except  one,  were  professedly  on  the  side  of  my 
people,  in  the  controversy  between  me  and  my  people.  And 
though  it  was  only  to  give  advice  what  course  to  take,  yet  tlieir 
advice  might  be  such  as  might,  in  effect,  finish  the  whole  affair. 
Such  a  foundation  might  be  laid  by  previous  advice,  as  might  very 
much  determine  w^hat  remains. 

"  But  I  told  the  church  that  I  would  not  dispute  about  the  for- 
mer of  the  particulars,  and  stood  ready  now  immediately  to  put  it 
to  vote  :  and  accordingly  put  the  vote  in  the  following  terms  : — "  I 
desire  that  those,  who  have  a  dispute  or  controversy  with  the  Pastor 
of  this  Church,  respecting  the  question  he  hath  argued  in  his  book 
last  published,  would  manifest  it." — ^The  major  part  of  the  church 
hereupon  manifested  that  they  had  such  a  dispute. 

"  Then,  instead  of  the  other  thing  proposed  by  the  Precinct  to 
be  put  to  vote,  viz.  Whether  the  Church  will  apply  to  some  neigh- 
bouring ministers  for  advice,  as  to  what  course  to  take  ;  I  insisted, 
— "  That  a  Council  should  be  called,  mutually  chosen,  to  consider 
of  the  present  circumstances  of  this  Church,  relating  to  the  contro- 
versy subsisting  between  the  Pastor  and  people,  concerning  the 
Qualifications  of  communicants ;  and  to  give  their  advice,  what 
course  we  shall  take,  to  bring  this  dispute  or  controversy  to  an 
issue,  and,  in  general,  what  is  to  be  done,  in  our  present  circum- 
stances, in  order  to  the  Churches  peace  and  prosperity. '''' — After 
much  debate  upon  it,  the  meeting  was  adjourned  for  a  week,  and 
a  Committee  of  five  persons  chosen  to  consider  of  the  matter,  and 
confer  upon  it  with  the  Pastor,  and  report  their  opinion  to  the  next 
meeting.  The  Committee  were  Major  Pomroy,  Col.  Dwight,  In- 
crease Clark,  Lieut.  Noah  Wright,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley. 

"The  Committee,  on  consultation  and  conference  with  me, 
WTote  their  report  on  the  backside  of  the  paper,  wherein  I  had 
written  my  proposal,  as  follows  : — "  The  Committee  of  the  first 
church  in  Northampton  appointed,  by  the  church  to  consider  the 
within  proposal,  and  report  to  the  church  what  is  best  to  be  done, 
report  as  follows,  viz.  That  the  church  do  join  with  Mr.  Edwards, 
according  to  the  within  proposal  of  choosing  a  council ;  and  the 
Committee  agree  to  the  number  of  five,  and  would  not  be  against 
a  greater  number,  if  the  church  think  fit,  to  be  mutually  chosen,  and 


326  Lirs    OF    PRESIDEI^T    EDWARDS. 

to  be  appointed  to  meet  in  this  town,  four  weeks  hence  from  next 
Thursday. 

"  Timothy  Dwight,  Joseph  Hawley,  Increase  Clark,  Noah 
Wright." 

"  Major  Pomeroy  refused  to  sign  the  report. 

*'  On  Monday,  Nov.  20,  the  church  met,  according  to  adjourn- 
ment ;  and,  after  prayer.  Major  Pomeroy  stood  up,  and  observed  to 
the  church,  that  his  name  was  not  to  the  report,  and  gave  these  two 
reasons  w^hy  he  did  not  sign  it: — 1.  *'  That  my  proposal  w^as  in  ge- 
neral terms,  and,  it  being  apparent,  that  I  regarded  my  owti  tem- 
poral interest  more  than  the  good  of  the  church,  the  church 
had  reason  to  think  that  I  designedly  laid  a  snare,  to  ensnare  the 
church  by  those  general  terms,  and  therefore  warned  the  church, 
that  they  had  best  by  all  means  to  beware  and  see  to  it,  that  they 
were  not  ensnared  ;"  and  said  much  more  to  this  purpose:  2.  "  If 
the  report  w^as  complied  with,  there  would  be  room  for  tlie  council 
to  give  advice,  with  respect  to  the  admission  of  tliose  persons,  who 
stood  ready  to  make  a  profession  of  godliness,  and  might  possibly 
advise  that  they  should  be  admitted  \\ith  such  a  profession ;  which 
would  be  giving  me  great  advantage,  contrary  to  the  rights  of  the 
church,  of  which  the  church  had  better  not  run  the  risk ;  and, 
though  the  advice  of  the  council  would  not  be  binding,  yet  if  they 
should  advise  to  their  admission  in  this  way,  it  might  lay  the  church 
under  great  disadvantage." 

"  These  things  seemed  greatly  to  alarm  the  church,  and  the 
church  refused  to  vote  the  report  of  the  Committee ;  and,  after 
much  discourse  and  debating,  it  was  determined  to  add  ten  to  the 
Committee  of  the  church,  so  as  to  make  the  w^hole  numheY  fifteen, 
tliat  they  might  consider  what  was  to  be  done,  and  report  to  another 
meeting.  And  then,  inasmuch  as  some  had  found  fault  with  my 
appointing  sacraments  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  some  had  turned 
their  backs  on  the  sacrament  since  this  controversy,  and  the  usual 
time  for  a  sacrament  being  come,  it  was  proposed  to  the  church, 
Whether  it  was  their  mind  that  the  administration  of  the  Lord's 
Supper,  should  be  continued  or  not  ?  and  after  considerable  dis- 
course it  was  put  to  vote  and  passed  in  the  negative.  Then  the 
meeting  was  adjourned  for  a  fortnight. 

"  The  persons  now  added  to  the  Committee  were  the  following : 
Messrs.  John  Baker,  Jonathan  Strong,  Roger  Clap,  Deac.  John 
Clark,  Deac.  Pomeroy,  Joseph  Wright,  John  Lyman,  James  Ly- 
man, Gideon  Lyman,  and  Eleazar  King.  The  whole  Committee, 
excepting  Col.  Dwight  who  was  gone  to  Boston,  met  on  the  next 
Monday,  Nov.  27,  1749,  and  passed  several  votes  which  were 
drawn  up  in  WTiting ;  and  the  next  Wednesday  they  all  came  to- 
gether to  my  house,  and  showed  me  the  writing  they  had  drawn  up 
containing  the  said  votes,  as  follows  : 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  327 

"At  a  meeting  of  a  Committee  of  the  first  church  of  Northamp- 
ton, on  Monday,  the  27th  day  of  November,  1749, 

"  Voted,  That  a  council  be  chosen,  previous  to  any  endeavours 
after  a  separation,  to  advise  on  the  articles  hereafter  mentioned  : 

"  The  first  question  that  was  put  after  some  conference  was, — 
Whether  any  members  of  a  council  to  be  chosen  either  by  pastor 
or  people,  to  advise  us  to  what  course  we  shall  take,  pre\ious  to 
any  endeavours  after  a  separation,  shall  be  those  who  live  out  of  the 
County  of  Hampshire  ?  Voted  in  the  negative. 

"2.  Whether  any  members  of  a  definitive  council,  if  finally 
there  be  need  of  such  council,  should  come  from  any  parts  out  of 
tlie  County  ?  Voted  in  the  negative. 

"  Whether,  if  Mr.  Edwards  shall  continue  of  the  principles  he 
has  advanced  in  his  late  book,  the  Committee  judge  he  ought  to 
continue  Pastor  of  this  Church,  or  not?  Voted  in  the  negative,  ne- 
mine  contradicente, 

"  4.  That,  if  there  be  a  Council  called  to  give  advice,  at  pre- 
sent, previous  to  endeavours  after  separation,  the  particulars  or  ar- 
ticles upon  which  they  are  to  advise,  shall  be  determined  and  pro- 
posed to  them. 

"  5.  looted,  That  one  article  which  the  Council  shall  have  pro- 
posed to  them,  shall  be — Whether  the  Church  shall  take  any  longer 
time  to  study  or  peruse  Mr.  Edwards'  late  book  ? 

"  6.  It  was  put — Whether  it  shall  be  proposed  to  the  Council,  to 
advise  whether  Mr.  Edwards  should  preach  on  his  late  principles  ? 
and  it  passed  in  the  negative. 

"7.  Voted,  That  another  article  to  be  proposed  to  the  Coun- 
cil, shall  be — That,  inasmuch  as  there  is  so  great  opposition,  in  the 
Church  and  Precinct,  to  Mr.  Edwards'  principles,  advanced  in  his 
late  book,  whether  tlie  Church  shall  not  use  means  immediately  for 
a  separation  ? 

"  8.  Voted,  That,  if  the  Council  shall  think  it  best  to  use  means 
for  a  separation,  the  question  shall  be  proposed  to  them.  What 
means  shall  be  used  therefor  ?" 

"  On  another  paper,  which  at  the  same  time  they  delivered  to 
me,  was  written  the  following  vote,  viz. 

"  Whereas  our  Pastor,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  having  separated 
and  departed  from  the  principles  which  the  great  Mr.  Stoddard 
brought  in  and  practiced,  and  which  he  himself  was  settled  upon, 
and  a  long  time  practised,  with  respect  to  the  admission  of  mem- 
bers in  complete  standing  into  the  visible  Church,  whether  it  be 
not  the  opinion  of  the  Church,  that  those  principles  are  inconsis- 
tent with  the  principles  of  religion,  and  the  peace  of  the  Churcli 
and  Town,  and  therefore  desire  a  separation,  he  continuing  in  his 
principles. 


'SSS  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  '1 

"  The  above  written  w^as  voted  to  be  proposed  to  the  first 
Church  in  Northampton,  for  their  acceptance,  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Committee  of  said  Church,  on  Monday,  Nov.  27,  1749,  provided 
the  proposals  of  the  Committee,  respecting  a  Council  for  advice 
previous  to  endeavours  after  a  separation,  should  not  be  agreed  to 
by  Mr.  Edwards;  or  there  be  nothing  else  agreed  to,  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards and  the  Committee,  respecting  said  Council,  and  tlie  ends 
for  which  they  are  to  be  called. 

"  Tooted  further  by  the  Committee,  That,  provided  the'Church 
desire  a  separation,  they  should  consider  and  determine  upon 
choosing  a  Council,  to  dismiss  Mr.  Edwards  from  this  Church,  and 
dissolve  his  pastoral  relation  thereto." 

"  The  papers  containing  these  votes,  were  delivered  to  me  by 
the  Committee,  at  a  meeting  of  theirs  at  my  house,  the  Wednesday 
following ;  (Nov.  29,)  and,  I  desiring  time  for  consideration,  tbey 
consented  that  I  should  have  time,  and  appointed  another  meeting 
of  the  Committee,  on  Tuesday  the  week  following,  at  the  house  of 
Major  Pomeroy,  to  receive  my  answer  in  writing.  It  was  agreed, 
that  it  should  be  put  to  vote  in  the  Church  the  next  Sabbath,  that 
the  church-meeting,  w^hich  was  adjourned  to  the  next  ]\Ionday,  be 
put  off  a  week  longer. 

"  To  tlie  appointed  meeting,  on  Tuesday,  Dec.  5,  I  sent  the  fol- 
lowing letter ; 

*'Dear  brethren, 

"  I  would  now  lay  before  you  some  reasons,  why  I  think  that 
your  votes  at  your  late  meeting,  on  Nov.  27,  are  not  to  be  appro- 
ved of;  which  I  w^ould  do  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  and  desire  tliat 
they  may  in  the  same  spirit  be  weighed  and  considered  : 

"  I.  It  is  manifest  that  in  these  votes,  you  are  in  various  instances 
very  inconsistent  with  yourselves  : 

"  1.  Your  votes  imply  that  it  is  your  mind,  that  a  Council  should 
be  called,  previous  to  any  endeavours  after  a  separation  between 
pastor  and  people,  and  also  pre\ious  to  what  you  call  a  Definitive 
Council :  tliat  is  previous  to  a  Council,  which  shall  determine  whe- 
ther pastor  and  people  shall  be  separated  or  not :  and  yet,  in  your 
seventh  vote,  you  have  voted  that  it  shall  be  proposed  to  the  first 
Council,  H  hether  the  Church  shall  not  use  means  immediately  for  a 
separation :  which  implies  that  this  first  council  should  pass  their 
judgment.  Whether  minister  and  people  ought  not  to  be  speedily 
separated ;  which  is  the  very  business  of  the  last  council,  who,  as 
you  yourselves  suppose,  are  to  determine  that  matter.  If  the  first 
council  are  to  have  no  power  to  determine  it,  then  why  should  diey 
take  it  upon  them  publicly  to  enquire,  and  judge,  and  give  their 
voice,  how  it  ought  to  be  determined  ?  If  there  be  a  certain  con- 
sistory, to  whom  it  does  not  belong  to  decide  a  matter,  and  it  is  also 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWaUDS.  329 

determined  beforehand,  that  they  shall  not  decide  it,  but  that  it 
shall  be  decided  by  other  judges  ;  I  think  Uiey  would  but  do  the 
part  of  busy-bodies,  to  meddle  with  it  so  far  as  publicly  to  take 
cognizance  of  it,  and  pass  their  judgment  in  it. — According  to  Con- 
gregational principles,  on  which  this  church  seem  to  insist,  the  ut- 
most, which  any  Council  under  heaven  has  to  do,  is  only  to  give 
their  judgment,  without  laying  any  proper  obligation  on  those  whom 
they  advise. 

"  2.  In  your  concluding  vote  in  your  second  paper,  you  have 
given  your  voice,  That,  if  I  do  not  agree  to  what  you  shall  finally 
insist  upon,  or  to  that  purpose,  it  shall  he  proposed  to  the  Church, 
immediately  to  call  a  Cowicil  to  dismiss  me.  And  surely  such  a 
Council,  if  they  have  any  thing  to  do  as  Counsellors,  \\ill  have  to 
judge — Whether  I  ought  to  he  dismissed,  or  not  j  and,  Whether  it 
he  consistent  with  the  interests  of  religion,  and  the  peace  of  the  Town 
and  Church,  that  I  shoidd  he  continued  here.  And  yet,  in  the 
same  vote,  you  have  voted  to  propose  it  to  the  church,  to  take  this 
work  of  the  Council  into  their  own  hands,  and  to  determine  them- 
selves, in  the  first  place, — Whether  my  continuance  here  is  consis- 
tent  with  the  interests  of  religion,  and  the  peace  of  the  Town  and 
Church;  and,  Wliether  a  separation  ought  not  to  he  sought: — 
which  is  first  judging  the  very  thing,  w^hich  they  are  to  call  a  Coun- 
cil to  judge  of,  and  direct  them  in.  Herein  you  are  inconsistent 
with  yourselves ;  and,  if  you  persist  in  such  a  vote,  will  be  incon- 
sistent with  the  rules  of  decency  and  order,  and  all  usual  methods 
of  proceeding. — In  so  great  an  affair,  as  the  separation  of  a  pastor 
and  a  people,  it  is  by  no  means  proper  for  a  people,  whatever  their 
private  thoughts  may  be,  to  proceed  to  declare  their  judgment  in 
public  votes  and  acts,  until  they  have  had  the  voice  of  a  Council 
to  lead  and  conduct  them. 

"  3.  You  yourselves,  the  gentlemen  of  the  Committee,  have 
taken  it  upon  you  to  do  that,  w^hich  is  properly  the  business  of  v/hat 
you  call  the  Definitive  Council, — in  your  third  vote ;  wherein  you 
vote,  That,  if  I  persist  in  my  principles,  I  ought  not  to  continue  the 
Pastor  of  this  Church.  This  vote,  you  have  passed,  as  a  Com- 
mittee of  this  Church ;  and,  if  you  persist  in  it,  it  must  be  a  part 
of  your  Report  to  the  Church,  intended  for  their  direction ;  nor 
can  such  a  vote  of  yours  be  of  any  other  use.  And  so  herein  you 
give  your  judgment  and  direction  to  the  Church  directly,  in  that 
very  matter,  which  the  last  Council  is  to  judge  of,  and  direct  the 
Church  in. 

"  4.  You  vote  that  a  Council  should  be  called,  previous  to  any 
endeavours  after  a  separation ;  and  yet,  in  this  third  vote,  you 
yourselves  do  at  the  same  time,  before  any  Council  is  called,  im- 
mediately proceed  to  that  which  is  properly  and  directly  of  the  na- 
ture of  an  endeavour,  that  I  should  be  separated,  provided  I  do  not 
retract  my  opinion.     For  it  must  be  supposed,  that  you  had  some 

Vol.  I.  42 


330  LIFE    OF    rilEgiDEXT    EDWARDS. 

end  In  it,  and  passed  this  vote  as  a  means  to  some  public  effect ; 
and  the  effect  directly  looked  at,  is  no  other  than  a  separation  in 
such  a  case. 

"  5.  The  only  proviso  made  in  the  said  third  vote,  wherein  it  is 
voted  that  I  ought  not  to  continue  the  pastor  of  this  church,  is — 
"  If  I  continue  of  the  principles  which  I  have  advanced ;"  without 
adding — Or  tlie  Church  be  brought  to  he  of  my  mind,  or  any  thing 
of  that  nature;  whereby  it  is  plainly  supposed,  that  it  is  a  thing  al- 
ready determined,  and  out  of  the  question,  that  the  church  never 
will  be  of  my  mind.  And  yet  you  afterwards  vote.  That  a  Coun- 
cil shall  be  called  for  that  very  end — ^to  judge  whether  the  church 
shall  take  any  longer  time  to  study  and  peruse  my  book  : — which, 
if  they  do  advise  to,  it  must  be  as  requisite  in  order  to  a  proper 
trial,  whether  the  church,  on  proper  information,  will  not  be 
brought  to  be  of  my  mind.  So  that,  putting  both  these  votes  to- 
gether, it  comes  to  this, — that  you  would  call  a  Council  to  judge, 
Blether  there  hm  already  been  a  fair  trial,  ivhether  the  Church,  on 
proper  information,  will  be  brought  to  be  of  my  mind  ;  and  yet, 
you  tell  them,  at  the  same  time.  That  you  have  decided  this  matter 
already,  and  have  determined,  that  it  is  no  longer  worth  the  while 
to  make  a  question  of  it,  and  that  it  is  clear  enough  already,  to  be 
taken  as  a  ground  of  public  votes  and  acts.  And  this  is,  in  effect, 
to  tell  the  Council,  at  the  same  time  you  call  them.  That  you  do 
not  need  them;  ha\dng  thoroughly  determined  the  matter  already 
yourselves,  in  which  you  have  called  them  to  advise. 

"  II.  You  are  not  only  inconsistent  with  yourselves,  but  I  think 
several  of  your  votes  are  very  inconsistent  with  reason  and  justice. 

"  1 .  Your  votes  imjjly,  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  choose  none 
who  live  out  of  the  county  of  Hampshire,  to  be  members  of  any 
Council,  which  shall  have  any  thing  to  do  in  judging  of  our  affairs, 
either  in  giving  advice  for  our  conduct,  or  to  determine  and  finish 
our  conti'oversy ;  which,  as  the  case  stands,  is  contrary  to  plain 
reason,  and  universally  established  maxims  of  equity,  and  incon- 
sistent \\ith  the  most  acknowledged  rights  of  mankind.  For  it  is 
apparent  from  your  own  statement,  that  the  matters  of  difficulty, 
concerning  which  the  judgment  or  advice  of  any  Council  is  need- 
ed or  proposed,  are  wholly  things  appertaining  to  a  controversy  be- 
tween me  and  the  church,  concerning  qualifications  of  candidates 
for  christian  ecclesiastical  communion ;  and  it  is  well  known,  that 
the  ministers  of  the  county  are  almost  universally  on  one  side,  and 
against  me,  in  this  controversy.  And  I  desire  you  impartially  to 
consider,  whether,  if  you  should  persist  in  these  conclusions,  it 
would  be  doing,  as  you  would  be  done  by  ?  Supposing  that  it  had 
happened  on  my  side,  as  it  has  on  yours,  that  the  ministers  of  the 
county  had  been  as  generally  and  as  fully  on  my  side,  in  the  origi- 
nal controversy,  as  now  they  are  on  yours  ;  would  you  have  thought 
it  reasonable,  if  I  should  in  that  case  have  insisted  upon  it,  that  you 


LIFE    OF    PRKSlDEiNT    EDWARDS.  331 

should  not  be  sufTered  to  go  out  of  the  county,  to  bring  ministers 
for  any  Council,  which  was  to  have  any  liand  in  judging,  advising 
or  determining  in  our  affairs  ? 

*"  2.  If  1  understand  your  Vote,  you  have  determined,  That  the 
Council,  which  shall  be  called  to  advise  us  what  course  to  take  un- 
der our  present  difficulties,  shall  be  so  limited,  that  they  shall  have 
no  liberty  to  judge  of  our  circumstances  in  general,  and  so  advise  to 
proper  expedients  for  our  welfare  as  they  shall  think  requisite  ;  and 
That  particular  care  shall  be  taken,  that  they  shall  not  give  any 
judgment  or  advice,  with  regard  to  some  things,  which  have  been 
matters  of  difficulty  and  controversy,  between  me  and  the  church. 
And,  I  think  you,  in  effect,  have  voted.  That  they  shall  be  limited 
to  that  one  single  thing,  viz.  Whether  the  Church  shall  take  longer 
time,  to  study  or  peruse  my  book  ?  For,  as  was  observed  before, 
the  other  things  which  you  mention,  cannot  belong  to  the  business  of 
the  Previous  Council,  but  are  the  proper  business  of  the  Last 
Council.     Now  against  this,  I  object  the  follo\nng  things  : 

"  (1.)  To  call  a  Council,  and  limit  them  in  this  manner,  does  not 
at  all  answer  the  present  circumstances  and  exigencies  of  this 
Church.  The  present  sorrowful  state  of  the  Church  greatly  re- 
quires a  Council,  which  shall  have  liberty  to  look  into  the  whole 
state  of  our  case,  without  keeping  some  parts  of  our  difficulties  out 
of  their  sight,  that  they  may  give  us  advice  what  course  w^e  shall 
take  for  our  w^elfare.  If  ever  it  was  requisite  that  the  whole  case 
of  a  patient,  under  a  most  terrible  and  threatening  disease,  should 
be  laid  before  physicians,  it  is  requisite  that  our  whole  case  should 
be  laid  before  a  council,  for  their  advice  with  regard  to  our  diffi- 
culties in  general.  What  we  need  a  Council  for,  if  we  need  any 
at  all,  before  a  Council  comes  to  determine  whether  we  shall  be 
separated  or  not,  is  if  possible,  to  find  out  a  remedy  for  our  bro- 
ken, confused  and  perplexed,  circumstances  ;  so  that,  either  pastor 
and  people  may  walk  together  in  peace,  or,  at  least,  that  things 
may  be  so  regulated,  that  there  may  be  some  peace  while  we  are 
continued  together.  And,  if  finally,  there  should  appear  a  neces- 
sity of  a  separation,  that  things  may  be  prepared  for  an  equitable 
and  peaceable  parting.  But  to  tie  up  a  Council  to  such  a  single 
particular,  as  is  mentioned  in  your  votes,  is  utterly  to  disable  them 
from  answering  these  ends. 

"  (2.)  It  would  be  very  absurd,  in  itself,  for  the  Church  to  come 
into  such  a  determination.  It  would  be  for  the  Chursh  to  set  itself 
up  in  a  sort  of  supremacy  and  self-sufficiency,  as  above  all  controul 
and  advice.  It  would  be  in  effect  to  say, — '  In  these  and  these 
parts  of  the  controversy  between  us  and  our  pastor,  we  need  no 
advice,  nor  will  we  allow  a  Council  to  give  us  any.' — And  it  would 
be  indecorous  treatment  of  any  Council,  under  any  csrcumstances, 
thus  to  tie  them  up.  The  language  of  it  would  be, — '  We,  in  these 
things,  arc  not  willing  to  trust  your  judgment,  esteeming  ourselves 


332  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

wiser  than  you." — If  you  say  that  those  parts  of  our  controversy, 
which  the  Council  are  tied  up  from  meddling  with,  are  very  clear 
and  plain  ;  then  so  much  the  less  reason  have  you  to  fear  lea\'ing 
them  to  the  determination  of  a  Council ;  unless  you  are  confident 
that  you  are  wiser  than  they. 

"  For  you  to  insist  on  these  limiting  votes,  ^vill  be  very  unequal  and 
unfair  dealing  \dth  me.  As  the  Council  is  to  be  called  to  advise 
in  matters  controverted  between  you  and  me,  one  party  has  no  more 
right  to  limit  the  other  party,  as  to  the  controverted  points  which 
shall  be  referred,  than  the  other  party  has  to  limit  the  one.  If  I 
should  claim  a  power  to  decide  in  this  matter,  and  should  single 
out  a  particular  point,  such  as  I  thought  would  best  serve  my 
purpose,  and  say, — '  I  will  have  this  matter,  and  this  only,  judg- 
ed of  by  a  Council ;  and  as  to  other  matters,  which  you  de- 
sire that  they  should  advise  in,  I  will  not  suffer  it :' — ^would  you 
hearken  at  all  to  it,  or  bear  such  treatment? 

"  One  thing  more  I  think  it  my  duty  to  observe  to  you,  before  I 
conclude.  After  your  other  votes,  you  conclude  all  with  this,  as 
an  enforcement  of  the  whole  : — "That,  provided  the  proposals  of 
the  Committee,  respecting  a  Council,  etc.  should  not  be  agreed  to 
by  me,  and  there  should  be  nothing  else  agreed  to  respecting  said 
Council,  and  the  ends  for  which  they  are  to  be  called ;  you  will 
propose  it  to  the  church  to  vote  my  principles  so  and  so  pernicious, 
and  to  manifest  a  desire  of  separation,  and  to  call  a  Council  to  dis- 
miss me."  I  think  that  this  Vote,  with  these  circumstances  ap- 
pended, is  properly  of  the  nature  of  a  Threatening. — That  if  I  do 
not  comply  with  what  you,  the  Committee,  shall  finally  insist  upon, 
you  will  propose  to  the  church  to  deal  thus  with  me. — As  you  are 
a  Committee  chosen  to  confer  with  me  concerning  a  method  of 
proceeding,  I  might  reasonably  expect  that,  as  you  are  christians, 
and  christians  to  whom  I  stand  in  the  relation  of  a  Pastor,  you 
would  first  have  seen.  Whether,  by  friendly  conference,  w^e  could 
not  have  amicably  agreed  on  measures  to  be  taken.  If  you  had 
thought  it  proper  to  pass  any  such  vote  at  all,  and  to  let  me  see  it ; 
one  would  have  thought  that  at  least  it  should  have  been  forborne, 
until  you  had  found,  by  conference,  that  I  would  agree  to  nothing 
reasonable,  and  that  this  should  have  been  the  last  thing  you  did. 
But,  at  the  very  first  interview,  to  come  with  such  menaces  to  ter- 
rify me  into  a  compliance  with  you,  before  a  word  of  conference 
between  us ;  is  indeed  carrying  things  with  a  high  hand ;  of  which 
I  entreat  you  calmly  and  seriously  to  consider. 

"  On  the  whole,  I  desire  you  would  not  persist  in  the  votes  you 
have  passed,  and  that  you  would  consider  again.  Whether  the  pro- 
posals, which  were  agreed  to  by  me  and  the  former  Committee  of  the 
church,  are  not  just  and  reasonable  ;  and  the  measures  therein  pro- 
posed such  as  our  circumstances  require.  But  if  not,  if  you  can 
think  of  any  other  measures,  wnich  are  equitable,  and  have  any  ten- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  333 

dency  to  answer  the  exigencies  of  our  present  circumstances;  I 
hope  you  will  not  find  me  difficult  or  backward  to  a  compliance. 
"  I  am  your  servant,  for  Jesus'  sake, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards. 
'' JsTorthampton,  Bee,  5,  1749." 

"  The  next  day,  being  Wednesday,  Dec.  6,  the  Committee 
came  again  to  my  house  ;  and  after  they  were  come  together,  the 
chairman,  JMajor  Pomroy,  told  me, — That  they  had  further  con- 
sidered of  our  difficulties,  or  to  that  purpose,  and  had  read  my  long 
letter  ;  and  that  it  was  abundance  of  trouble  and  difficulty  the  church 
was  put  to  ;  and  that  it  was  the  voice  of  the  Committee  that  it  was 
I,  that  was  the  occasion  of  all  this  difficulty. — "  This,"  said  he,  "  I 
say  in  the  name  of  the  Committee  ;  and  that,  which  I  am  now  about 
to  say,  I  ^vill  say  in  my  own  name,  and  tliat  is,  That  it  may  w^ell  be 
matter  of  solemn  consideration  to  you,  that  you  should  put  the 
church  to  so  much  trouble  and  difficulty.  And  I  would  advise  you 
to  take  the  matter  into  your  serious  and  solemn  consideration  and 
contemplation.  And,  as  to  the  affair  we  are  upon,  we  have  deter- 
mined that  we  will  not  dally  about  the  matter  ;  and  therefore  we 
are  come  to  this  conclusion;"  or  words  to  that  purpose. — Then  he 
handed  me  a  paper,  containing  their  conclusion  in  the  following 
words  : — "  At  a  meeting  of  the  Committee  of  the  First  Church  in 
Northampton,  on  Tuesday,  Dec.  5,  1749  ;  Agreed  by  said  Com- 
mittee, that  they  will  recommend  to  the  church,  that  there  be  a 
Council  mutually  chosen  by  the  church  and  Mr.  Edwards,  if  Mr. 
Edwards  desires  to  have  a  part  in  the  choice,  to  consist  of  seven 
or  nine  churches,  all  in  the  County  of  Hampshire  ;  to  which  Coun- 
cil the  church  shall  represent  and  declare  the  difference  and  con- 
troversy, which  subsists  between  the  church  and  the  said  Edwards, 
respecting  the  Qualifications  necessary  to  admission  to  complete 
standing  in  the  Visible  Church  of  Christ ;  and  also  to  inform  the 
said  Council,  that,  since  the  opposition  in  the  said  church  to  Mr. 
Edwards'  sentiments  in  the  particular  aforesaid  is  very  general ; 
and  that,  since  Mr.  Edwards,  in  this  particular,  has  dissented  from 
the  church,  and  departed  from  the  principles  on  which  he  was  set- 
tled and  ordained  Pastor  of  said  church ;  it  is  the  desire  of  the 
church  that  Mr.  Edwards  may  be  dismissed  from  said  church,  and 
that  his  pastoral  relation  thereto  be  dissolved  ;  and  that  the  church 
shall  supplicate  the  said  Council  to  proceed  to  dismiss  and  release 
the  said  church  and  Mr.  Edwards  from  each  other,  if  they  shall 
judge  it  best  to  be  done ;  and  the  church  shall  humbly  entreat  the 
said  Council,  in  the  most  impartial  manner,  to  consider  tlie  case 
and  desire  of  the  church." 

"After  I  had  read  this  determination  of  the  Committee,  I  told 
them  that  I  desired  opportunity  for  consideration  until  the  next  day, 


334  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

when  I  would  endeavour  to  come  to  a  deteraiination  wliat  I  would 
do  ;  which  I  would  send  them  in  writing,  if  they  w^ould  meet  at  any 
place  to  receive  it.  Accordingly  they  appointed  a  meeting  the 
next  day,  to  receive  my  determination,  and  to  conclude  on  their 
own  report  to  the  church. 

"  The  next  day,  being  Thursday,  Dec.  7,  the  Precinct  met  ac- 
cording to  adjournment,  and  adjourned  themselves  further  until  the 
next  Tuesday,  the  day  after  the  appointed  church  meeting. — The 
same  day  also  the  Committee  of  the  church  met,  when  I  sent  them 
a  Letter,  containing  my  determination,  as  I  had  proposed ;  which 
was  as  follows : 

"  To  tlie  Committee  of  the  First  Church  in  Northampton,  at  their 
meeting,  Dec.  7,  1749. 

"  Dear  Brethren, 

"  The  reasons,  which  I  have  given,  showing  it  to  be  just,  that  all 
Councils,  called  to  judge  or  advise  in  our  present  affair,  should  be 
mutually  chosen,  and  that  I  should  have  liberty  to  nominate  some 
of  the  members  out  of  the  County,  I  think  of  most  undeniable  evi- 
dence, and  that  indeed  the  matter  is  so  plain,  that  it  does  not  pro- 
perly admit  of  any  dispute.  Yet,  since  I  find  you  are  so  resolved 
not  to  comply  with  what  I  so  reasonably  urge,  I  now,  for  the  sake 
of  peace,  and  to  avoid  great  tumult  and  confusion,  make  you  the 
following  offer,  viz. — That  the  ministers  of  this  Association  should 
be  consulted,  that  is  the  seven  ministers  who  live  nearest,  or  the 
Jive  nearest,  if  you  think  seven  too  many ;  and  that  it  shall  be  left 
to  their  judgment,  Whether  it  be  not  reasonable  and  best  in  this 
case,  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  County  for  minis- 
ters or  churches,  to  be  some  of  the  members  of  the  Council  who 
are  to  judge,  whether  I  shall  be  dismissed  from  my  pastoral  ofhce 
here  or  not  ? — and  that,  if  they  determine  that  it  is  best  that  this 
should  be  allowed,  then  their  judgment  be  asked,  Whether  the 
state  of  things  be  now  ripe  for  such  a  Council  being  called  ? — 
and,  if  they  judge  that  we  are  not  ripe  for  it,  that  we  should  ask 
their  advice,  How  we  shall  conduct  ourselves  for  the  present  ? 

"  These  ministers  are,  in  the  most  proper  sense,  the  ministers  of 
the  vicinity,  and  are  all,  save  one,  professedly  on  your  side,  in  our 
main  controversy.  If  we  go  from  these,  in  the  way  of  mutual 
choice,  I  insist  on  the  liberty  of  going  out  of  the  County. — If  you 
accept  this  offer,  I  now  promise  that,  w4iatever  the  judgment  or 
advice  of  these  ministers  shall  be,  in  the  forementioned  particulars ;  I 
will  make  no  objection  against  your  choosing  any  of  tliem  to  be  of 
the  future  Council. 

'*  As  to  your  last  conclusion  of  Dec.  5,  my  present  determination 
is,  not  to  consent  to  it,  nor  to  put  any  such  thing  to  vote,  nor  in  any 


LIFE    OV    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  335 

respect  to  have  any  hand  in  the  matter ;  unless  first  advised  to  it 
by  these  ministers.  Jonathan  Edwards." 

"  P.  S.  I  request  of  you  that  you  would  let  me  know  what  your 
report  to  the  church  shall  be,  when  it  is  concluded  upon,  some  time 
before  the  meeting."  _ 

"  When  the  Committee  had  received  and  read  this  letter,  they  ' 
concluded  on  the  following  report  to  be  made  to  the  church ;  of 
which  one  ot  them  brought  me  a  copy  tlie  next  day,  as  follows  : 

"  At  a  meeting  of  the  Committee  of  tlie  first  church  in  North- 
ampton, chosen  by  said  church  to  devise  measures  for  the  church 
to  take,  under  their  present  difficulties,  and  to  report  to  said  church 
at  their  next  meeting ;  the  said  Committee  agreed  to  report.  That 
they  judge  it  prudence,  and  conducing  to  the  welfare  of  the  church, 
that  a  council  of  five  churches  in  the  County  of  Hampshire,  mutu- 
ally chosen  by  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  said  church,  be  called,  to  con- 
sider and  give  their  judgment, 

"  1.  Whether  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  church,  or  other\\ise  of 
the  controversy,  subsisting  between  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  church, 
be  ripe  for  the  calling  of  a  council,  to  judge  wiiether  Mr.  Edwards 
shall  be  dismissed  from  his  pastoral  office  in  said  church,  or  not ; 
which,  if  they  shall  determine  in  the  affirmative,  then  to  give  their 
judgment, 

"  2.  Whether  it  be  reasonable  and  best  in  this  case,  and  agree- 
able to  the  constitution  of  these  churches,  that  Mr.  Edwards  should 
be  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  County  of  Hampshire,  for  ministers  or 
churches,  to  be  some  of  the  members  of  a  council  for  the  purpose 
aforesaid.  But  if  they  shall  think  the  state  of  affairs  is  not  ripe  for 
tlie  calling  of  such  a  council,  then 

"3.  To  consider  and  advise  what  course  the  church  shall  take,  to 
ripen  affairs  in  the  said  church,  for  such  a  council. 

"  The  above  is  what  the  Committee  agreed  to  report  to  the 
church,  at  their  next  meeting. 

"Attest,  Ebenezer  PoMEROY,  CA'm.  of  the  Com, 

"  JVorthampton,  Dec.  7,  1749." 

*'  The  next  Monday,  Dec.  11,  the  church  met  according  to  ap- 
pointment, when,  after  the  meeting  was  opened  by  prayer,  my  last 
letter  to  the  Committee,  containing  my  proposed  offer  to  the  Coni- 
mitte,  and  the  Committee's  report,  were  both  read.  And  then  I 
read  to  the  church  what  follows,  containing  some  objections  to  the 
report  of  the  Committee  : 

"  Dear  Brethren, 

"  You  very  well  know  that  what  has  been  insisted  upon  liereto- 
fore  by  my  people,  was  that  the  neighbouring  ministers  should  be 


336  LIFE    OF    rilESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

consulted,  as  a  Previous  Council,  to  give  us  advice  what  course  we 
should  take,  before  the  calling  of  a  Council  to  determine  whether 
pastor  and  people  should  be  separated;  and  that  I  objected  against 
it — these  ministers  being  almost  universally,  by  their  open  profes- 
sion, on  your  side  in  the  grand  controversy  between  you  and  me; 
— and  that  I  insisted  on  it,  as  just  and  equal,  that  I  should  have  a 
choice  with  you  in  this  council  of  advisers ;  and  that  if  those  w^hom 
you  chose  were  known  to  be  on  your  side  in  the  main  controversy, 
I  should  have  liberty  to  nominate  as  many  who  should  be  on  my 
side;  and  that  this  was  as  just  in  a  council,  which  should  be  called 
to  give  previous  advice,  as  in  a  council  which  should  judge  concern- 
ing the  affair  of  our  separation ;  because  such  a  foundation  might 
be  laid  by  the  previous  advice  of  the  first  council,  as  might  in  ef- 
fect finish  the  whole  affair.  But,  however,  I  have  not  been  hear- 
kened to  in  this  matter ;  and  one  thing  urged  in  opposition  to  what 
I  insisted  on,  was,  that  according  to  the  Platform  of  Church  Disci- 
pline, such  affairs  should  be  judged  of  by  those  w^io,  were  of  the  vi- 
cinity, or  neighbourhood.  And  finding  after  long  urging  what  1 
looked  upon  as  my  due,  and  might  claim  as  one  of  the  common 
rights  of  mankind,  that  all  my  reasonings  w^ere  in  vain,  I  have  now 
at  length  yielded  that  point,  and  for  the  sake  of  peace,  which  in  the 
whole  course  of  this  affair  I  have  earnestly  pursued,  have  complied 
with  that  which  you  at  first  insisted  upon, — ^viz.  that  the  neighbouring 
ministers  shall  be  desired  to  give  us  advice  what  course  to  take,  pre- 
vious to  the  council  called  to  judge  whether  pastor  and  people  shall 
be  separated ;  and  that  I  would  leave  it  to  them  to  judge,  on  a  full 
view  of  our  case,  how  we  shall  conduct  ourselves.  Now  I  think 
you  ought  not  to  reject  what  I  offer,  and  attempt  to  constrain  me  to 
a  compliance  wath  the  new  measures,  on  which  the  Committee 
have  agreed,  for  the  following  reasons  : 

"1.  It  would  be  a  very  unjust  proceeding.  The  neigbouring 
ministers,  on  whom  you  first  insisted,  have  indeed  much  to  preju- 
dice them  against  me  in  those  affairs,  being  declaredly  against  me 
in  the  main  controversy.  But  it  is  well  known  that  many  of  the 
ministers  of  the  County,  who  are  out  of  the  neighbourhood,  have 
had  much  more  to  prejudice  them.  These  neighbouring  ministers 
are  all  Calvinists  in  their  persuasion,  and  friends  to  the  late  revival 
of  religion,  and  those  who  have  lived  in  good  neighbourhood  and 
peace  with  me,  which  has  not  been  interrupted  by  any  remarkable 
breach  between  me  and  them,  or  any  known  affront  or  disgust 
which  they  have  taken.  But  with  regard  to  the  other  ministers  of 
the  County  it  is  well  known,  that  four  or  five  of  them  have  hereto- 
fore had  the  reputation  of  Arminians.  Some  others  of  them  are 
known  to  have  been  strenuous  opposers  of  the  late  revival  of  reli- 
gion, for  which  I  have  been  so  pubhc  an  advocate.  And  you  know 
that  the  dispute  about  the  late  work  in  the  land,  is  a  controversy 
which  has  greatly  engaged  the  feelings  of  men.     There  are  no  less 


1.IFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWaUDS,  3.37 

\han  six  of  them,  who  have  either  had  a  particular  difference  or 
controversy  with  nie  thereupon,  or  have  in  times  past  openly  mani- 
fested towards  me  a  personal  hostility  or  aversion  for  the  part  I  have 
taken  iherein.  Another  of  them,  one  of  the  senior  ministers  of  the 
County,  has  shown  a  strong  prejudice,  in  this  particular  controversy 
between  you  and  me,  in  sometliing  which  he  has  s.iid  to  two  of 
the  brethren  of  the  Committee  of  this  Church,  as  I  have  been  well 
informed.  Another  of  them  has  an  own  father  in  the  town,  who  is 
one  of  the  Committee ;  and  several  of  his  brothers  are  greatly  en- 
gaged   in  this  controversy, 

"  2.  If  the  church,  at  the  same  time  that  they  agreed  to  the 
Report  of  the  Committee,  should  withal  say,  that,  if  I  had  any  un- 
reasonable objection  against  any  pai-ticular  minister,  he  should  not 
be  chosen ;  still,  proceeding  on  this  plan  would  be  in  many  v/ays 
of  unhappy  consequence.  It  would  necessitate  me  publicly  to 
point  out  particular  ministers  of  the  County,  and  openly  to  object 
those  things  against  them,  which  would  naturally  tend  to  excite  un- 
pleasant feelings  between  those  ministers  and  me— to  beget  new 
prejudices  and  revive  and  establish  old  ones.  And  then  it  is  wholly 
uncertain  w^hat  the  church  would  esteem  reasonahh  objections; 
and  this  w^ould  open  a  door  for  new  difficulties,  and  endless  con- 
troversy about  the  particular  members  to  be  chosen,  concernins" 
the  principles  and  past  conduct  of  ministers,  and  probably  with  re- 
gard to  some  ministers,  whether  they  be  in  the  County  or  not :  it 
being  a  matter  of  controversy,  not  yet  decided,  concerning  th?'ee^ 
who  used  to  be  reckoned  to  be  of  the  County,  whether  they  indeed 
be  of  the  Province. 

"  3.  If  the  church  should  now  depart  from  what  they  had  for- 
merly insisted  on,  and  I  have  now  offered  in  compliance  with  them, 
and  should  act  on  the  measures  proposed  by  the  Committee  ;  they 
would  act  very  absurdly  and  inconsistently.  For  the  Platform  has 
heretofore  been  insisted  on,  as  directing  to  ministers  of  the  neiah- 
bourhood,  and  seems  still  to  be  insisted  on  in  the  Report  of  the 
Committee,  under  the  name  of  the  Constitution  of  these  Churches  ; 
and  yet  this  same  Committee,  in  this  very  Report,  insist  on  liberty 
to  go  out  of  the  neighbourhood,  vvithout  being  limited  by  any  other 
bounds  than  those  of  the  County.  Whereas  it  is  those  ministers 
whom  I  have  proposed,  and  they  only,  who  are  properly  the  minis- 
ters of  the  neighbourhood.  The  Platform  speaks  of  neighbour- 
hoods,  but  says  nothing  of  counties.  Many  of  the  churches  of  the 
County  are  no  more  in  the  way  of  communication  v.ith  us,  than 
some  churches  out  of  the  County.  The  churches  in  SheflielJ, 
and  some  others  in  this  County,  are  no  more  in  the  way  of  mutual 
concern  and  intercourse  with  us  in  our  religious  affairs,  then  the 
churches  in  Boston,  and  indeed  not  near  so  much.  So  that  the 
Committee  insist  upon  the  Platform,  and  on  oui'  being  confined  to 
the  neighbourhood,  and  vet  at  the  same  time  kisist  on  liberty  to 

Vol.  I.  ^  43 


OO^  LIFE    ur    PRESiJJJEM'    EDWAKJDr. 

deviate  from  the  Platform,  and  to  depart  from  the  neiglibdurhood. 
Yea  they  are  yet  jnore  absurd ;  for  one  grand  point  that  is  in  con- 
troversy between  us,  is, — -Whether  we  shall  have  liberty  to  go  from 
the  neighbourhood,  for  any  Council  ?  And  yet  tliey  insist  upon 
liberty  to  go  from  the  neighbourhood,  in  the  first  place,  for  a  Coun- 
cil, to  determine,  Whether  we  shall  have  liberty  to  go  from  the 
neighbourhood ;  which  is  the  most  gross  and  palpable  inconsis- 
tency. 

"  As  to  the  determination  of  your  forefathers,  thirty-six  years 
ago.  That  they  would  he  subject  to  a  Council  of  the  Churches  of  the 
County  ;  you,  of  this  generation,  never  looked  on  it  as  any  consti- 
tution for  you,  nor  have  you  ever,  in  one  instance,  conformed  to  it; 
For  you  never  have  yet  in  any  one  instance,  since  I  have  been 
your  Pastor,  referred  any  thing  to  a  Council  of  Churches,  but  to 
Consistories  of  another  nature.  And  besides  the  plain  design  of 
that  vote  was,  that  all  the  churches  of  the  County  taken  together 
should  be  consociated  as  a  Standing  Council,  agreeably  to  the 
Presbyterian  Principles  of  Mr.  Stoddard,  who  was  the  first  mover 
in  that  affair,  and  drew  that  Vote. 

"  And  moreover  what  I  now  offer,  viz.  That  our  affairs  should 
be  referred  to  the  ministers  of  the  Association,  to  which  we  belong,, 
is  much  more  agreeable  to  the  design  of  that  Vote,  since  the  state 
of  the  County  is  so  exceedingly  altered  from  what  it  was  then, 
being  divided  into  different  associations,  and  not  only  so,  but  be- 
come so  much  larger,  the  number  of  churches  vastly  increased, 
and  more  dispersed,  at  a  great  distance  one  from  another.  This 
alteration  in  the  state  of  the  County,  renders  it  impracticable  for 
the  churches  to  abide  by  that  determination,  so  as  to  be  obliged, 
on  every  emergency  wherein  they  need  counsel,  to  call  a  Council 
of  the  whole  County,  consisting  of  near  sixty  members,  from  such 
distant  places. 

"  On  the  whole,  J  renewedly  insist  upon  it,  that  the  offer  I  make 
you  is  in  itself  highly  reasonable  and  fair,  yea,  that  therein  I  evi- 
dently depart  from  my  just  right  in  compliance  with  you,  tliat,  if 
possible,  our  affairs  may  be  proceeded  in  with  peace  and  without 
tumult.  What  I  now  propose,  is  what  you  yourselves  have,  until 
now,  insisted  on  ;  and  I  apprehend  there  can  be  no  imaginable  rea- 
son why  it  should  now  be  departed  from,  unless  it  be  to  lay  me 
under  still  greater  disadvantages,  and  to  have  opportunity  to  bring 
in  such  into  the  Council,  as  are  still  more  prejudiced  against  me.*' 

One  thing  further  I  objected,  which  was  against  the  manner  of  the 
draught  of  the  Committee's  report,  which  it  is  needless  now  to  re- 
hearse. 

"  On  this  ensued  much  discourse.  It  was  insisted  that,  in  my 
mentioning  the  seven  or  five  next  neighbouring  ministers,  if  diese 
were  allowed  to  be  the  Council,  it  would  be  my  choosing  all  the 
Council  myself:  and  inasmuch   as   I  before  appeared  so  much 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAKDb.  oSO 

^igainst  leaving  these  matters  with  them,  hut  now  complied,  the 
^:hurch  had  reason  to  suspect  that  I  had  discovered  sometliing  con- 
cerning these  ministers,  which  the  church  knewMiot  of;  which  was 
a  sufficient  reason  why  the  church  should  not  comply  with  my  pro- 
posal. 

"  I  added  one  thing  further  to  my  proposal,  viz.  That^It'e  should 
be  taken  out  of  the  seven  next  neighbouring  ministers  by  mutual 
choice.     But  there  appeared  no  inclination  to  comply  with  this. 

"  After  this,  some  of  the  people  proposed  to  me,  Whetlier  I  would 
be  willing  that  a  Council  of  churches  should  be  called  out  of  this 
neighbourhood,  instead  of  a  Council  of  Ministers.  I  replied  that  it 
seemed  altogether  needless  and  trifling,  to  put  the  churches  to  so 
much  trouble,  as  to  meet  in  Council,  only  to  tell  us  whether  we 
were  ripe  for  a  Council,  and  to  ad\ise  us  as  to  the  manner  of  call- 
ing a  Council.  But  however  I  would  not  break  with  the  church 
on  such  a  point,  if  they  greatly  insisted  on  it.  But  as  soon  as  I 
had  thus  complied  witli  it,  no  more  was  said  about  it  at  that  meet- 
ing. 

"  After  this  it  was  once  and  again  proposed  to  me,  and  by  seve^ 
ral  persons,  Whether  I  was  willing  that  the  matter  should  be  refer- 
red to  three  ministers  mutually  chosen  out  of  the  seven  ? — because 
then  it  was  urged  that  there  might  be  somewhat  of  a  choice.  I 
somewhat  hesitated  about  it,  thinking  the  number  too  small ;  yet 
finally  complied  ;  but  as  soon  as  I  complied,  the  matter  was  entirely 
dropped,  and  no  more  said  about  it. 

"  Last  of  all,  it  was  proposed  by  one  of  the  leading  brethren  of 
the  church,  that  the  w^hole  eight  ministers  of  which  the  Association 
consisted  be  called  together,  with  liberty  of  objecting,  on  each  side, 
against  any  of  the  members,  after  they  were  come  together;  the 
objections  to  be  judged  of  by  the  rest.  I  also  manifested  my 
readiness  to  comply  with  this.  But  nothing  was  said  by  the 
church,  Vv'hether  they  would  comply  with  this  or  not ;  and  nothing 
was  done  at  this  meeting,  but  the  meeting  was  adjourned  until  tlie 
next  day  at  two  o'clock. 

"  The  next  day,  Dec.  12,  the  Precinct  met  again,  at  one  o'clock, 
■according  to  adjournment,  and  adjourned  themselves  further  to  the 
next  Monday,  Dec.  16. 

"  The  same  day  the  church  met  again,  according  to  their  ad- 
journment, at  2  o'clock  ;  when,  after  long  debating  and  much 
€arne^t  talk  till  after  sun-down,  the  church  at  length  passed  the  fol- 
lowing Votes : 

"  1 .  That  a  Council  should  be  called  to  advise  us  under  our 
present  difficulties,  previous  to  any  Council  that  may  be  called  to 
judge  whether  Pastors  and  People  should  be  separated  ;  and  that 
it  should  be  left  to  tlieir  judgment.  Whether  it  be  not  reasonable 
mid  best  in  this  case,  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  go  out  af  the 


o40  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDb. 

County  for  JMinisters,  or  Churches,  to  he  some  of  the  raemhers 
of  the  Council,  who  are  to  judge,  vjhether  I  shall  he  dismissed 
from  my  pastoral  office  here  or  not ;  and  that  if  they  determine 
tliat  it  is  best  that  this  should  be  allowed,  then  their  judgment  be 
asked,  JVhether  the  state  of  things  he  now  ripe  for  such  a  Council 
being  called;  and,  if  they  judge  we  are  not  ripe  for  it,  we  should 
ask  their  advice,  flow  ive  should  conduct  ourselves  for  the  present. 

"  2.  That  the  Council  should  consist  of  five  ministers,  mutually 
chosen  out  of  the  seven  nearest  ministers.'^ 

"  After  this  vote  was  passed,  it  was  urged  that  it  should  be  five 
churches,  instead  of  five  n^inisters  ;  to  which  I  yielded,  after  some 
objecting ;  and  tlien  the  following  Vote  was  passed : 

"  3.  Tiiat  the  Council  shall  be  a  Council  of  Churches.  But 
only  thcie  sliall  be  liberty  given  to  both  Pastor  and  People,  if  thev 
have  any  objections  against  any  of  the  Messengers  that  shall  be 
chosen,  as  unfit  persons  to  judge  in  these  matters,  to  offer  their 
objections  before  the  Council  when  n^et,  who  shall  judge  of  the 
validity  or  suiliciency  of  those  objections." 

"  Then  wc  proceeded  to  nominate  churches.  I  first  nominated 
tlie  church  of  South  Hadley  ;  but  this  was  olijected  against ;  and  a 
writing  was  produced  under  the  hands  of  Ebenezer  Pomroy  and 
his  Wife,  testifying  some  things  which  they  had  heard  the  minister 
of  South  Hadley,  the  Rev.  IMr.  Woodbridge,  say,  manifesting  his 
mind  in  some  of  those  things  of  which  the  Council  were  to  judge. 
After  considerable  discourse  on  the  matter,  the  church  finally  re- 
fused to  allow  that  church  to  be  of  the  Council.  And  the  follow- 
ing churches  vrere  agreed  upon,  %iz.  the  First  Church  in  Hadley, 
ilie  Church  in  Hatfkld,  the  Church  in  Sunderland,  the  Church  of 
Cold  Spring,  and  the  Second  Church  in  Northampton. 

"  Then  the  church  proceeded  to  choose  agents  to  represent 
them  and  manage  their  cause  before  the  Council,  and  they  chose 
the  Hon.  Ebenezer  Pomroy,  Lieut.  Noah  Wright,  and  IMr.  Joseph 
Hawley. 

"  Then  several  of  the  brethren  earnestly  urged,  that  the  affair  of  our 
attending  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper  should  be  reconsid- 
ered, insisting  that  tliis  Ordinance  ought  to  be  upheld  among  us. 
After  some  discourse  it  was  put  to  vote, —  Whether  the  Church,  on 
second  consideration,  thought  it  best,  that  that  Ordinance  should  he 
upheld,  and  accordingly  a  Sacrarnent  speedily  appointed? — and  it 
passed  in  the  Kegative,  by  a  very  great  majority.  Then  the 
church  meeting  was  dissolved. 

"  Mr.  Joseph  Havvley  having  been  absent,  when  chosen  one  of 
ihe  A2;ents  of  the  Church,  afterwards  came  to  me,  desiring  me  to 
inlorni  the  church,  that  he  declined  serving  in  that  capacity.     Ac- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  341 

C6i*dingly,  I  stayed  the  church,  on  the  Sabbath,  Dec.  17,  and  in- 
formed them  of  it ;  when  some  of  the  Ijrethren  desired  to  know^ 
the  reason  why  he  declined  serving.  Upon  which  he  gave  this 
reaso:i.  That  his  judgment  was  so  different  from  that  of  the  church, 
in  those  points  which  were  referred  to  the  judgment  of  the  Coun- 
cil, that  he  could  not  in  conscience  plead  before  the  Council,  for 
those  things  on  which  the  church  insisted,  or  to  that  purpose. — 
Then  it  was  put  to  vote,  whether  the  church  would  add  any  other 
to  those  who  had  already  been  chosen."*^ 

"The  next  Monday,  Dec.  IS,  the  Precinct  met  again,  accord- 
ing to  adjournment ;  when  it  was  proposed  to  the  Precinct,  and 
much  urged  by  some  of  the  principal  men,  that  the  Precinct 
should,  by  a  vote,  manifest  their  desire  that  I  should  not  continue 
their  minister,  unless  I  altered  my  opinion,  and  a  draft  for  such  a 
vote  w^as  proposed  by  the  JModerator  ;  but  others  much  opposing 
it,  as  not  proper  before  the  advice  of  a  Council  had  been  asked,  it 
was  not  put  to  vote. 

"  At  this  meeting,  the  Precinct  voted  to  send  to  jMajor  Lyman, 
of  Suffield,f  and  hire  him  to  come  and  plead  their  cause  at  the 
approaching  Council ;  and  appointed  a  man  to  go  to  him  for  that 
end.     Then  the  meeting  was  adjourned  for  a  fortnight." 


*  The  result  of  this  vote  is  not  mentioned. 

t  Tlie  ITon.  Piiineas  Lymax,  an  eminent  Counsellour  at  Law,  and  after- 
wards Major-General,  first  in  the  Provmcial  Service,  and  then  in  the  Britisli 
Arni}'-.     He  declined  the  proposed  service. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Meeting  of  Previous  Council.— -Remarks  of  Mr.  Edwards^  on 
the  question,  Whether  he  ought  not  to  be  alloived  to  go  out  of  the 
county,  in  the  choice  of  the  Final  Council. — Remarks  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, on  the  question,  Whether  the  state  of  things  was  ripe  for 
n  Final  Council. — Proposal  of  Mr.  Edwards. — Residt. — Ad- 
journment.— Measures  of  both  parties. 

"  The  next  week  on  Tuesday,  Dec.  26,  the  Council  that  was 
chosen,  met  ;*  and  this  Narrative,  viz.  the  preceding  part  of  it, 
was  read  to  them.  And  then  they  proceeded  to  hear  both  what 
the  Pastor  and  the  Agents  of  the  Church  had  to  offer  on  those  ar- 
ticles, which  the  Council  had  been  desired  to  judge  of,  and  advise 
in."  On  the  question,  Whether  it  was  not  reasonable  and  best,  that 
he  should  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  county,  for  Ministers  or 
Churches  to  be  some  of  the  members  of  the  Council,  tvho  were  to 
judge,  whether  he  should  be  dismissed  from  his  pastoral  office,  or 
not; — Mr.  Edwards  submitted  to  the  Council  tlie  following  re- 
marks : 

"  In  order  to  determine — Whether  I  ought  to  be  allowed  to  go 
out  of  the  county,  in  my  choice  of  a  part  of  the  Council,  which  is 
to  decide  on  the  question  of  my  dismission ;  it  should  be  particu- 
larly considered — What  the  business  of  such  a  Council  will  be. 
And  here  I  would  observe, 

"  1.  That  the  business  of  that  Council  will  not  be  to  judge, 
Tiliether  my  opinion,  on  the  point  in  controversy,  be  right,  or  not ; 
for  that  would  be  only  to  determine,  Tiliether  my  opinion  and  theirs 
be  the  same  ;  which  is  supposed  to  be  a  thing  perfectly  known  be- 
fore the  calling  of  the  Council.  On  such  a  point,  the  opinion  of 
ministers  and  churches  cannot  easily  be  hid,  and  they  will  be  cho- 
sen on  each  side,  because  they  are  either  of  the  one  opinion  or 
of  the  other. 

"2.  Nor  will  it  be  the  main  business  of  that  Council,  to  judge, — 
JVhether,  or  no,  I  should  finally  continue  the  pastor  of  this  church, 
if  the  people,  after  all  fair  means  used,  and  all  proper  steps  taken 
to  effect  an  accommodation,  should  finally  desire  that  I  should  not 

*  The  ministers  who  composed  this  Council,  were,  the  Rev.  Chester  Wil- 
liams of  Hadley,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Woodbridge  of  Hatfield,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Billings 
of  Cold  Spring,  (Belchertown,)  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jr.dd  of  West-Hampton. 
The  names  of  tlie  Delcoatcs  are  not  known. 


LlJ'fi    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  345 

he  their  pastor  ? — I  have  never  given  this  Church  the  least  reason 
to  suspect,  that  I  had  any  such  thing  in  view,  by  any  of  my  con- 
duct. And  besides,  I  stand  ready  to  save  any  Council  the  trouble 
of  judging  in  that  matter.  If  the  Church  would  in  the  first  place 
give  me  a  fair  hearing,  and  take  all  proper  previous  steps,  and  treat 
me  in  that  respect  ^^^th  justice,  and  answerably  to  the  obligations 
w^hich  they  owe  me  as  their  pastor,  and  yet  finally  should  desire 
my  dismission ;  I  should  trouble  a  Council  no  farther,  than  barely 
to  give  me  leave  to  relinquish  my  pastoral  office. 

"  But,  if  1  mistake  not,  the  business  of  that  Council  will  consist 
chiefly  in  the  following  things  : 

"  1 .  In  determining  whether  the  pastor  and  church  ought  to  be 
separated,  they  must  have  liberty  to  do  what  they  can  towards  ef- 
fecting an  accom.modation.  It  will  be  unreasonable  to  call  a  Coun- 
cil, to  decide  on  the  question  of  separation,  and  yet  so  tie  up  their 
hands,  that  they  shall  be  obliged  to  proceed  on  the  supposhion, 
that  the  disease  is  desperate,  without  allowing  them  to  judge  of  that 
matter  for  themselves,  or  to  use  any  means  or  endeavours  for  a 
cure.  The  separating  of  pastor  and  people  will  be  an  important 
event — an  event  followed  by  great,  extensive  and  very  unhappy, 
consequences,  and  ought  not  to  be  done  without  obvious  and  irre- 
trievable necessity.  That  necessity  ought  not  to  be  determined, 
merely  by  the  parties  at  variance ;  but  by  the  Council,  which 
judges  whether  we  must  be  parted,  or  not.  The  desperateness  of 
the  disease  should  not  be  determined  by  the  patient,  but  by  the 
physician.  That  Council  must  have  our  whole  case  laid  before 
them,  and  then  they  must  judge,  Tfhether  it  will  be  worth  the  while 
to  use  any  endeavours  for  an  accommodation.  And,  if  they  judge 
that  it  is  worth  the  while,  then  they  must  have  liberty  to  use  their 
best  skill,  in  order  to  effect  it.  For  my  part,  though  I  confess 
there  appears  to  me  no  probability  of  our  difficulties  ever  being  ad- 
justed ;  yet  I  feel  that  I  am  not  infallible,  nor  able  certainly  to  de- 
termine that  they  cannot.  I  cannot  certainly  say  that  a  Council 
cannot  enlighten  me,  so  as  to  make  my  conscience  easy  as  to  any 
point  of  practice,  so  as  to  proceed  in  it  with  a  good  conscience. 
Nor  can  my  people,  as  I  apprehend,  certainly  determine  that  no 
Council  can  ever  satisfy  them,  as  to  any  point  on  which  we  are 
now-  divided.  It  is  worth  the  while  to  try  the  skill  of  some  of  the 
ablest  divines  in  the  land  ;  and  indeed  it  is  necessary  that  it  should 
be  done,  before  we  proceed  to  an  act,  fraught  with  such  important 
consequences,  as  the  separation  of  pastor  and  people.  And  here 
the  question  arises.  What  sort  of  a  Council  is  proper  to  be  employ- 
ed in  such  an  attempt  ? — a  Council  wholly  consisting  of  divines  on 
one  side  in  the  controversy  ? — or  a  Council  consisting  of  some  on 
both  sides  ? 

"  2.  If  they  conclude  that  there  is  no  hope  of  an  accommodation, 
thev  will  then  be  called  upon  to  decide — Whether  the  parties  arr 


344  LIFE    OF    PllESlDEIsT    EDWARDS, 

noiv  ripe  for  a  separation.  And  the  grand  point  here  presented 
to  them  will  be,  What  justice  demands,  luith  regard,  to  each  party* 
The  claims  of  both  parties  must  be  weighed  by  them,  as  in  a  bal- 
ance. On  the  one  hand,  they  must  determine  what  are  the  just 
claims  of  the  people,  and  whether  my  continuance  here  can  be  con- 
sistent with  their  rights.  On  the  oiJier,  they  must  consider,  what  I 
can  claim  by  virtue  of  my  relation  to  the  people  as  their  pastor, 
whether  the  steps  which  ought  to  be  taken  previous  to  a  separation 
have  actually  been  taken ;  whether  they  have  given  me  a  hearing 
on  the  question  in  dispute,  and  have  done  me  justice  in  this  con- 
troversy, so  that  notliing  remains  which  I  can  fairly  demand  of  them, 
before  they  can  fairly  demand  a  release  from  all  their  obligations  to 
me  as  their  pastor.  The  case  presented  to  them  for  their  decision 
will  therefore  be  a  case  of  simple  justice  and  equity,  between  two 
parties  at  variance.  And  here  the  question  again  arises.  What  sort 
of  a  Council  is  proper  to  be  employed  in  deciding  such  a  case  ? — a 
Council  wholly  consisting  of  divines  on  one  side  in  the  controversy  r 
— or  a  Council  consisting  of  some  on  both  sides  ? 

"  3.  If  the  future  council  should  decide  on  an  immediate  separa- 
tion between  pastor  and  people,  they  must  also  set  forth  to  the 
world,  in  their  result,  the  reasons  of  their  decision.  They  must 
explicitly  declare,  Jlliether  it  is  for  any  thing  hlame-worthy  and 
scandalous  in  the  pastor,  which  renders  him  unfit  for  the  ministry, 
and  worthy  to  he  dismissed  from  it^  or — Whether  he  is  innocent  in 
the  affair  ? — How  far  he  has  conducted  himself  well,  and  treated 
his  people  justly  ?  and,  How^  far  they  can  recommend  him  as  hi  t© 
be  employed  elsewhere  in  the  work  of  the  ministr}'?  This  is  what 
is  usual  in  such  cases,  and  what  the  very  natui-e  of  things  renders 
just  and  necessary.  But  the  state  of  the  present  case  renders  it 
necessary  in  a  peculiar  manner,  and  that  on  several  accounts. 
One  is,  the  well  known  fact,  that  many  reports  have  been  industri- 
ously circulated  through  the  country,  relative  to  my  conduct  in  this 
affair,  which  are  greatly  to  my  disadvantage.  It  is  continually  as- 
serted by  my  opposers,  that  I  wish  to  Lord  it  over  God's  heritage, 
that  I  am  contentious  and  quarrelsome,  that  I  am  obstinate,  stiff  and 
inflexible,  and  that  I  would  not  yield  an  ace  in  my  opinion  to  save 
myself  and  my  family  from  ruin. — Another  is,  that  my  people 
themselves,  have  rendered  it  absolutely  necessary,  in  that,  from 
time  to  time,  I  have  been  publicly  blamed  and  highly  charged,  with 
regard  to  nw  conduct.  As  this  appears  evidently  the  prevailing 
disposition  of  my  people,  to  cast  blame  upon  me,  and  they  do  it 
liere  openly  and  publicly  from  time  to  time,  I  have  no  reason  to 
think  that  they  restrain  themselves  abroad.  And  as  there  is  a  great 
multitude  of  them,  many  mouths,  to  reproach  me,  and  they  are 
very  much  abroad  in  various  parts  of  New  England,  and  I  have 
only  my  own  single  voice  to  defend  myself  with ;  so  there  seems 
to  be  no  other  way  for  my  defence,  than  by  the  enquuy  and  jiid-g- 


LIFE    OF    PllESIDENT    EDWARDS.  315 

ijient  of  an  impartial  Council.  And  then,  besides  the  reproaches 
of  my  people  by  word  of  mouth,  their  public  conduct  towards  me  is 
such,  as  casts  a  reproach  upon  me.  The  whole  series  of 
their  conduct  has  this  language,  uttered  too  with  a  loud  voice,  that 
I  am  most  insufferably  criminal.  This  is  particularly  true  of  their 
openly  refusing,  once  and  again,  to  receive  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper  at  my  hands.  It  has  this  look — that  1  am  a  scan- 
dalous person  :  this  is  the  language  of  it :  it  has  this  appearance  to 
the  world.  Of  course  this  future  Council  wall  unavoidably  have  to 
judge  betw^een  me  and  my  people,  in  this  matter.  And  here  again 
the  same  question  presents  itself — What  sort  of  a  Council  is  proper 
to  be  employed,  in  deciding  on  my  conduct  and  character  ? — A 
Council  consisting  w^holly  of  those,  w^ho  are  known  to  be  against 
me,  and  to  side  with  my  opposers  ;  or  a  Council  consisting  of  some 
on  both  sides  ? 

"  These  three  things,  it  is  plain,  will  constitute  the  main  business 
of  the  future  Council;  and  the  question — What  kind  of  a  Council 
is  requisite  to  judge  in  such  a  case,  and  to  decide  on  these  points, 
— cannot,  I  humbly  conceive,  be  a  matter  of  any  difficulty.  It 
must  be  evident  to  every  man  of  the  least  reflection,  that  an  Impar- 
tial Council  is  indispensable,  or  at  least,  a  Council  so  constituted, 
that  it  may  be  as  near  to  impartiality  as  may  be.  This  will  appear, 
if  each  of  these  three  points,  on  which  the  Council  must  judge,  is 
duly  considered. — If  they  are  to  attempt  an  accommodation,  or  to 
bring  the  two  distant  parties  together  ;  surely  it  is  proper  that  the 
Council,  which  is  to  do  this,  should  be  themselves  in  the  middle, 
and  not  all  on  one  side,  or  with  one  of  the  distant  parties. — If  they 
are  to  decide, — Whether  the  Church  have  done  me  justice  in  this 
controversy,  as  to  what  I  can  demand  of  them,  before  they  can  de- 
mand a  separation  ? — need  I  ask,  w^hether  the  tribunal  which  is  to 
decide  a  simple  point  of  equity,  between  two  parties  at  variance,  in 
a  case  deeply  interesting  to  both,  ought  to  be  impartial  ?  And,  if 
tliey  are  to  judge  between  two  parties,  one  of  which  blames  and 
condemns  the  other  in  a  very  open  manner,  and  it  is  their  duty  to 
decide,  whether  these  accusations  are  just,  and  whether  the  accus- 
ed is  innocent,  or  guilty;  does  this  venerable  Council  need  an  ar- 
gument from  me,  to  prove  to  them  that  impartiality  is  an  essential 
qualification  in  the  tribunal,  which  is  to  judge  between  two  such 
parties,  and  that  the  members  of  it  ought  not,  all  of  them,  to  be  on 
the  side  of  the  party,  which  lays  the  blame  and  brings  the  charge  ; 
but  a  part  of  them  on  the  side  of  the  party  blamed  in  the  original 
controversy  ?  Since,  in  this  case,  we  cannot  expect  to  obtain  a 
Council,  which  shall  be  impartial  in  the  most  proper  sense — in  the 
sense  that  each  member,  taken  singly,  shall  be  impartial— but  all 
must  be  supposed  to  be  on  one  side  or  the  other  in  the  main  con- 
troversy ;  there  ought  therefore  to  be  that,  which  shall  be  in  some 
measure  an  equivalent — there  ought  to  be  a  balance  in  the  Coun- 
VoL.  I.  44 


346  LIFE    OF    PREsSIDExVT    EDWARDS. 

cil — SO  that,  putting  both  parts  together,  the  whole  Consistory  may 
be  looked  upon  as  it  were  impartial ;  and,  if  one  of  the  parties 
choose  those  who  are  on  their  side  in  the  main  controversy,  the  other 
should  also  be  allowed  to  choose  such  as  are  on  his  ;  and  neidier 
party  tied  up  to  such  limits  in  his  choice,  that  all  opportunity  of  any 
tolerable  degree  of  impartiality  in  the  Council,  should  be  pre- 
cluded. 

"  Hence  it  must  be  reasonable  that,  in  the  choice  of  the  future 
Council,  I  should  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  limits  of  this  county, 
for  some  of  the  members ;  it  being  a  fact  perfectly  well  known, 
concerning  the  ministers  and  churches  of  the  county,  that  they  are 
almost  universally  on  one  side  in  the  original  controversy.  And 
this  is  the  point  now  to  be  determined  by  this  reverend  Council.  I 
would  endeavour  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  show  that  it  is  rea- 
sonable and  necessary  that  I  should  be  allowed  this  liberty,  as  im- 
partiality is  to  be  sought  in  the  Council ;  and  in  the  second,  would 
mention  several  circumstances,  which  render  it  highly  expedient. 

"  I  freely  own  that  it  is  a  good  general  rule,  that  Councils,  which 
are  to  judge  of  difficulties  arising  in  particular  churches,  should  be 
constituted  of  neighbouring  churches.  But  to  say,  that  this  is  a 
rule  so  established  by  the  word  of  God,  or  the  reason  and  nature  of 
things,  and  made  so  universal,  that  it  never  will  or  can  admit  of  any 
exception,  and  never,  in  any  case  whatsoever,  ought  to  be  dispens- 
ed with,  is  carrying  the  matter  to. such  an  unreasonable  length,  as 
no  one  of  the  members  of  this  reverend  Council  would  sanction. 
Let  us  suppose  a  case,  which  is  not  impossible,  that  a  whole  neigh- 
bourhood of  ministers  were  nearly  related  to  one  of  two  parties, 
between  whom  a  Council  was  to  judge ;  would  any  one  say,  in  such 
a  case,  that  they,  and  they  only  must  be  the  judges,  because  they 
live  in  the  neighbourhood  ?  Would  any  one  imagine,  that  the  mere 
circumstance  of  vicinity,  or  of  county  limits,  as  fixed  by  the  civil 
power,  ought  to  outweigh  such  an  essential  circumstance  as  con- 
sanguinity ;  however  the  ministers  of  the  neighbourhood  might  bo 
men  of  wisdom  and  great  integrity  ?  Now,  though  perhaps  it  may 
be  disputed,  whether  unity  of  sentiment,  in  matters  of  religion,  has 
an  equal  tendency  to  prejudice  the  mind,  in  favour  of  particular 
persons  and  their  behaviour,  with  consanguinity ;  yet  I  suppose  it 
to  be  a  point  beyond  dispute,  that  it  has  a  powerful  tendency ;  and 
that  diversity  of  sentiment  has  an  equally  powerful  tendency  to  pre- 
judice the  mind,  not  only  against  the  doctrines  which  are  opposite 
to  those  we  embrace,  but  against  the  persons  who  introduce  and 
maintain  them.  In  all  ages  and  nations,  diversity  of  religious  sen- 
timent has  occasioned  uncharitableness  and  censoriousness  in  man- 
kind, one  towards  another ;  and  the  strongest  prejudices,  which 
have  appeared  among  men,  have  been  owing  to  this  cause.  Very 
often  has  this  been  true,  where  the  difference  has  been  in  tilings 
not  fundamental.     Such  is  the  weakness  of  human  nature  on  this 


LIFE 'of    president    EDWARDS.  347 

point,  that  few  men  get  the  mastery  of  this  temptation.  Here  and 
there,  an  eminently  great  man  appears  to  have  conquered  its  influ- 
ence. Yet,  even  among  great  men,  such  instances  are  rare.  How 
evident  is  it,  that  men  of  distinguished  learning  and  talents,  and  of 
eminent  piety,  are  often  powerfully  influenced  by  this  prejudice, 
and  that  insensibly  to  themselves.  And  if  we  examine  the  history 
of  ages  past,  we  shall-  find  abundant  evidence,  that  even  consan- 
guinity itself  does  not  render  us  more  liable  to  powerful  prejudices, 
than  this  very  cause. 

"  The  prejudices,  to  which  we  are  thus  exposed,  are  not  merely 
against  the  persons  of  individuals,  but  against  their  conduct;  espe- 
cially against  that  part  of  their  conduct  which  is  immediately  con- 
nected with  their  opinions,  in  avowing  and  maintaining  them,  and 
in  endeavouring  to  introduce  and  propagate  them.  How  greatly 
have  the  members,  and  especially  the  ministers,  of  the  Church  of 
England,  even  those  among  them  who  are  great  and  good  men, 
been  prejudiced  against  the  persons  and  conduct  of  Dissenters ; 
and  how  have  they  accused  them  of  bigotry,  blind  zeal,  and  per- 
verseness.  And  how  fully  has  our  liability  to  prejudices  of  this 
nature,  been  exemplified  of  late  in  New  England,  in  persons  of 
op}X)site  opinions,  respecting  the  late  extensive  Revival  of  Religion ; 
how  strong  have  been  the  prejudices  occasioned  thereby  against 
the  persons  and  conduct  of  many  individuals.  Especially  is  this 
true,  when  the  controversy  about  the  opposite  rehgious  opinions  is 
in  the  height  of  agitation.  Above  all  is  the  temptadon  great,  widi 
respect  to  the  individual,  who  is  the  first  and  main  occasion  of  the 
controversy,  and  appears  as  the  head  and  spring  of  the  whole  de- 
bate, as  moved  and  maintained  in  the  given  time  and  place  ;  which 
is  precisely  my  case  in  the  existing  controversy. 

"And  the  influence  of  this  cause  to  bias  the  minds  of  men,  has 
been  strikingly  exemphfied,  in  this  very  case,  in  ministers  of  good 
character,  and  such  as  in  other  respects  have  been  very  friendly  to 
me.  Since  this  controversy  has  existed  at  Northampton,  I  have 
had  occasion  to  converse  with  many  gentlemen  in  the  ministry,  on 
both  sides  of  the  question  ;  and  I  find  a  vast  difference,  between 
those  on  one  side  and  those  on  the  other,  in  regard  to  their  charity 
with  respect  to  me  and  my  conduct.  Those  on  one  side  are  more 
apt  to  give  heed  to  reports,  wdiich  they  have  heard  to  my  disadvan- 
tage, and  to  be  enquiring  with  concern  into  such  and  such  parts  of 
my  conduct.  They  receive,  with  hesitation  and  difficulty,  the  ex- 
planations which  I  give,  and  the  reasons  which  I  offer,  and  entertain 
surmises  and  jealousies  of  my  design,  and  of  the  motives  by  which 
I  am  governed.  But  with  the  ministers  of  the  other  side,  1  find 
nothing  of  this  nature. 

"  It  is  very  obvious,  that  the  members  of  this  church  themselves 
arc  perfectly  aware  of  the  tendency  of  religious  opinions  to  bias  the 
minds  of  men  in  this  very  controversy.     When  one  of  the  l^rethren 


348  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

at  a  late  Chiircli  meeting,  spoke  in  my  favour,  on  one  of  the  points 
now  to  be  decided  by  the  Council ;  one  of  the  influential  members,  an 
officer  in  the  church  and  one  of  the  church  Committee  rose,  and  told 
the  church,  that  what  that  brother  had  said  was  the  less  to  be  regarded, 
because  he  had  manifested  himself  to  be  of  my  opinion  with  respect 
to  the  Qualifications  for  communion.  And  the  public  acts  of  thi^ 
people,  show  how  fully  sensible  they  are  of  the  strong  tendency, 
which  sameness  or  contrariety  of  opinion  will  have  to  prejudice 
ministers  and  churches.  To  what  other  cause  but  such  a  conscious- 
ness, shall  we  attribute  the  fact,  that  they  strive  so  laboriously  and 
perseveringly,  to  confine  me  exclusively,  in  the  uhimate  decision  of 
this  controversy,  to  judges  who  are  on  their  side  of  the  question  ; 
and  that  they  have  hired  able  Counsel,  to  plead  in  their  behalf  for 
this  very  purpose.  If  identity,  or  diversity,  of  religious  sentiment 
has  no  tendency  to  bias  the  mind,  why  all  this  anxiety,  and  effort, 
and  cxpence,  and  struggling  to  confine  me  to  judges,  who  differ 
from  me  and  agree  with  themselves? 

*'  As  to  the  neighbouring  ministers,  I  sincerely  profess  a  very 
honourable  esteem  of  them,  and  desire  to  be  thankful  that  I  have 
lived  in  peace  and  friendship  with  them ;  and  I  doubt  not  that  they 
are  gentlemen  of  too  much  judgment  and  candour,  to  regard  it  as 
a  personal  reflection,  when  I  suppose  them,  as  well  as  others,  liable 
to  prejudices  from  this  cause.  I  presume  none  of  us  are  unwilling 
to  own,  that  we  are  the  subjects  of  the  common  infirmities  of  human 
nature ;  and  doubtless  we  have  found  this  the  fact  in  so  many  in- 
stances, that  we  should  in  some  cases  not  think  it  wisdom  to  trust 
our  own  hearts. 

"  This  then  being  so  evidently  the  case,  if  the  Decisive  Council 
are  s;enerally  of  an  opinion  contrary  to  mine,  and  the  same  with 
that  of  my  opposers,  on  the  matter  in  dispute,  they  cannot  be  re- 
garded as  impartial;  and  of  course  I  shall  have  no  fair  chance  for 
justice  from  them;  and  shall  not,  in  debating  and  determining  the 
matter  in  controversy,  stand  on  equal  ground  with  the  other  party. 

"  The  point  then  is  plain,  beyond  all  question,  that  I  ought  not  to 
be  confined  to  such  a  Council. 

"  How  tender  does  the  wisdom  and  justice  of  all  civilized  nations 
teach  them  to  be  towards  every  one,  who  has  a  deeply  interesting 
cause  depending,  with  regard  to  the  impartiality  of  his  judges. 
When  he  has  any  objections  against  any  one,  proposed  as  a  judge, 
how  easily  do  they  admit  them,  if  there  be  the  least  appearance  of 
any  circumstance,  tending  to  bias  and  prejudice  the  mind.  How 
readily,  for  example,  are  such  objections  admitted  against  any  w^ho 
are  nominated  to  be  of  a  Jury  ? 

"  Local  proximity,  I  fully  admit,  ought  ordinarily  to  be  regarded 
as  a  circumstance  of  weight  in  a  Council  who  are  to  be  judges  in  a 
religious  controversy  ;  but  in  no  measure  of  equal  weight  with  the 
essential  qualifications  of  the  judges    themselves.     And  as  to  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  349 

qualifications  of  a  judge,  what  is  so  essential  as  Impartiality  ?  What 
can  be  more  essential  in  a  balance,  which  is  to  determine  the  true 
weight  of  things,  than  that  the  scales  be  even  ? 

"  Thus  I  have  given  my  reasons  why  I  think  the  rules  of  equity 
and  a  regard  to  tlie  common  rights  of  mankind,  do  most  evidently 
require,  that  I  should  be  allowed  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  this 
County,  in  my  choice  of  some  of  the  members  of  the  future  Coun- 
cil. I  now  proced  to  mention  several  circumstances,  which  render 
it  highly  expedient  that  1  should  have  this  liberty. 

"  This  Rev.  Council  cannot  but  be  sensible,  that  it  deeply  con- 
cerns my  reputation  and  my  future  usefuhiess,  as  well  as  the  subsist- 
ence of  my  family,  that  I  should  have  justice  done  me  in  the  re- 
sult of  the  Future  Council;  and  of  course  that  that  Council  should 
be  an  impartial  Council.  The  removal  of  a  minister  from  his  peo- 
ple ordinarily  lays  him  under  great  disadvantages,  and  commonly 
hurts  liis  reputation  though  indeed  he  be  not  to  blame.  There  is 
left  on  the  minds  of  the  world  some  suspicion,  whether  something 
or  other  blame-worthy  or  unhappy  in  him,  his  temper,  or  conduct, 
was  not  the  cause.  People  therefore  are  generally  not  so  willing 
to  employ  such  removed  ministers.  There  is  commonly  a  great 
deal  said  against  them ;  and  how  much  of  it  is  true  and  just,  and 
how  much  unjust  and  false,  the  world  do  not  know,  and  do  not  think 
themselves  obliged  to  be  at  the  trouble  of  enquiring ;  but  rather 
think  it  their  province  to  have  notliing  to  do  with  them.  Hence, 
as  I  think  I  have  been  innocent,  and  conscientious,  and  fair  and 
faithful,  with  my  people  in  this  affair,  according  to  the  best  light 
which  I  enjoy ;  so  it  concerns  me  greatly,  that  I  should  have  full 
justice  done  me,  in  the  result  of  the  Final  Council. 

"  That  some  of  the  members  of  that  Council  should  come  from 
beyond  the  hmits  of  this  County,  deeply  concerns  my  future  useful- 
ness in  another  respect ;  \\z.  That  if  I  am  ever  employed  in  the 
work  of  the  ministry  hereafter,  it  is  not  probable  that  it  will  be  in 
this  part  of  the  country,  or  any  where  in  these  western  parts  of 
New  England ;  and  it  will  have  a  vastly  greater  influence  as  to  my 
reputation,  in  otlier  parts  of  the  country,  farther  eastward  than 
Hampshire,  if  some  ministers  of  note,  who  belong  in  those  parts, 
having  had  full  cognizance  of  those  affairs,  do  recommend  me. 

"  It  is  the  more  expedient  that  the  separation  of  the  minister  and 
people  of  Northampton,  if  it  take  place,  should  take  place  under 
the  direction  of  a  Council,  having  some  of  its  members  from  distant 
places  and  of  chief  note  in  the  country,  as  it  will  be  an  event  oi 
great  and  extensive  influence  on  the  interests  of  rehgion,  and  the 
Church  of  God.  Northampton  having  been  a  place  much  heard 
of,  and  extensively  observed  by  the  church  at  large,  as  to  its  reli- 
gious concerns,  and  the  past 'state  of  things  between  minister  and 
people,  having  been  much  known ;  the  report  of  our  separation 
must  needs  produce  an  extensive  and  great  effect — as  great,  and  on 


350  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

some  accounts  much  greater,  on  places  at  a  distance,  than  on  places 
that  are  near.  People  at  a  distance  have  been  more  ignorant  of 
our  former  imperfections,  and  have  been  ready  to  look  on  North- 
ampton as  a  kind  of  heaven  upon  earth.  The  result  of  the  Final 
Council  will  undoubtedly  be  published  to  the  world,  and  will  be  re- 
garded with  deep  attention  by  many,  not  only  in  New  England,  but 
in  the  other  provinces  of  North  America,  as  well  as  by  some  per- 
haps in  England  and  Scotland.  Hence  surely  it  is  best,  before 
this  unhappy  event  of  a  separation  shall  take  place,  that  some  of 
the  wisest  and  ablest  men  in  the  country,  should  have  an  opportunity 
to  look  into  our  affairs  and  give  us  their  advice,  and  use  their  wisdom 
if  possible  to  prevent  this  calamity,  and  that,  if  it  must  take  place, 
a  just  report  of  it,  with  its  causes  and  circumstances,  may  be  given 
to  the  world  by  men  whose  characters  are  known  and  respected  in 
other  parts  of  the  world.  Both  my  reputation  abroad,  and  the  in- 
terests of  religion  greatly  require  this. 

"It  is  the  more  reasonable  that,  in  the  determination  of  an  affair 
of  such  extensive  influence,  I  should  not  be  confined  to  the  limits 
of  this  particular  neighbourhood,  because,  as  things  are  constituted 
in  this  country,  there  is  no  appeal  from  one  Council  to  another,  no 
appeal  from  a  Presbytery  of  a  vicinity  to  a  Council  or  Synod  from 
larger  limits.  But,  if  the  case  goes  to  the  vicinity,  that  is  the  last 
resort,  and  they  wall  have  as  much  power  in  the  case,  as  the  Gene- 
ral Assembly  of  the  whole  nation  would  have  in  the  like  case,  in 
Scotland. 

"  I  beseech  this  Rev.  Council,  most  deliberately  and  impartially 
to  consider  these  things,  and  give  them  their  due  weight,  as  I  doubt 
not  they  would  govern  themselves  by  those  good  rules  of  equity 
and  charity, — "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself,"  and,  "  Do 
unto  others,  as  thou  wouldst  they  should  do  unto  thee." 

"  I  now  proceed  to  answer  some  Objections. 

"In  reply  to  all  the  arguments  derived  from  the  Platform  of 
Church  Discipline,  as  a  constitution  or  establishment  binding  these 
Churches,  I  would  suggest  the  following  observations : 

"1.  I  know  of  nothing  possessing  the  force  of  a  rule  or  estab- 
lishment to  bind  particular  Churches  of  Christ,  without  an  express 
act  or  consent  of  their  o\m">,  unless  it  be  the  Word  of  God.  On 
the  principles  of  Protestantism,  I  know  not  by  what  rule,  a  Council, 
which  sat  ninety  years  ago,  could  make  a  rule  or  establishment, 
which  could  bind  the  present  churches,  without  any  free  act  of 
theirs,  or  without  making  it  their  own  rule. 

" 2.  The  piesent  church  of  Northampton  never  made  that  plat- 
form their  rule,  or  had  the  least  regard  to  it  in  any  one  public  pro- 
ceeding, since  I  have  been  their  pastor;  and  I  know  so  much  of 
their  present  and  past  state,  that  I  may  be  bold  to  say,  they  have 
never  pretended  to  make  this  rule  a  directory  in  ecclesiastical  mat- 
ters, since  any  one  of  the  present  members  of  the  church  was  a 


LIFE    OF    PllESfDENT    EDWARDS.  851 

cliurch-member.  I  never  heard  it  mentioned  by  any  of  the  church 
on  any  occasion  until  now ;  and  I  verily  believe  that,  until  a  lililo 
while  since,  the  great  body  of  die  members  never  knew  Uiere  was 
any  such  thing  in  existence. 

"  3.  It  is  inconsistent  widi  the  principles  of  die  compilers  of  the 
Platform,  who  were  all  Congregationalists,  as  well  as  inconsistent 
with  the  very  Platform  itself,  that  it  should  be  of  the  nature  of  a 
constitution,  or  establishment  obligatory  on  future  churches,  or  on 
present  churches,  any  farther  dian  by  their  own  free  acts ;  for  the 
compilers  of  that  Platform  plainly  show  it  to  be  their  opinion,  that 
each  particular  church  has,  under  Christ,  all  power  of  discipline 
within  itself,  without  being  bound  by  the  determinations  of  other 
churches ;  and  that  the  government  of  the  Church  is  Congrega- 
tional, and  not  National,  nor  Provincial,  nor  Classical,  and  there- 
fore not  subject  to  the  decisions  and  constitutions  of  national,  pro- 
vincial or  classical  Synods,  unless  by  their  own  free  act. 

"  4.  The  Platform  itself  allows  expressly  of  departing  from  the 
vicinity,  when  the  nature  of  the  case  leads  to  it.  The  words  of 
the  Platform  are,  "  There  should  be  liberty,  without  offence,  to 
make  use  of  other  churches,  as  the  nature  of  the  case,  and  the  ad- 
vantage of  opportunity,  may  lead  thereto." — I  think  I  have  plainly 
shown  already,  that  the  nature  of  this  case  does  lead  to  it,  and  ab- 
solutely requires  it. 

"  As  to  the  Vote  of  this  Church,  in  the  days  of  our  fathers,  thir- 
ty-five years  ago, — That  they  would  be  subject  to  a  Council  of  the 
Churches  of  the  County,  until  some  superiour  Judicature  were  es- 
tablished in  the  Province, — it  may  be  sufficient  here  to  suggest  the 
following  brief  considerations : 

"  1.  No  persons  professing  Protestant  principles  will  maintain, 
that  christians  of  the  present  generation  are  bound,  in  affairs  of  re- 
ligion and  the  worship  of  God,  by  the  determination  of  their  fore- 
fathers, unless  they  have  adopted  the  act  of  their  forefathers,  and 
made  it  in  some  way  or  other  their  own,  by  their  own  act  and  con- 
sent, either  express  or  implicit. 

"  2.  This  appears  still  more  obviously,  in  the  present  case,  from 
the  very  different  circumstances  of  the  County,  in  this  generation, 
and  in  the  last.  This  change  in  the  state  of  things,  shows  diis  act 
to  be  void,  unless  it  has  been  renewed  since.  Had  their  cu'cum- 
stances  been  like  ours,  our  forefadiers,  w^e  have  die  best  reason  to 
believe,  w^ould  never  have  formed  such  a  determination.  We 
have  now  two  associations.  The  churches  are  far  more  numerous 
and  more  dispersed.  And  as  the  state  of  things,  which  was  the 
ground  of  this  act  of  our  ancestors,  has  ceased,  we  must  su])pose 
the  act  itself  to  cease  as  to  any  obligation  on  us,  unless  it  has  been 
renewed. 

"  3.  There  has  been  no  recogniuon  of  this  act  by  us,  either  ex- 
plicit or  implied.     Certainly  there  has  been  no  explicit  recognition. 


352  LIFE    OF   PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Who  can  point  out  any  act  or  vote  of  us,  the  existing  church  mem- 
bers, by  which  we  have  recognized  its  binding  force.  Neither  have 
we  implicitly  consented  to  it.  Since  I  have  been  the  pastor  of 
this  Church,  though  w^e  have  on  ma^y  occasions  had  the  subject 
of  Councils  before  us,  we  have  never,  in  any  one  instance,  paid 
die  least  respect  to  their  act ;  nor  do  I  remember  that  it  has  ever . 
been  once  mentioned  before  the  Church. 

"  4.  We  have  implicitly  renounced  it  in  several  ways.  Our 
proceedings  have  always  been  inconsistent  \\ath  it.  The  Vote  re- 
fers to  a  Council  of  Churches  ;  whereas  we  have  been  connected 
only  with  Councils  of  Ministers.  The  Vote  refers  to  a  Stated 
Council  of  the  Churches  of  tlie  County,  according  to  IVIr.  Stod- 
dard's known  Presbyterian  principles,  and  not  to  Elective  Councils; 
whereas  all  the  Councils  with  which  we  have  been  connected, 
have  been  Elective.  We  have  also  implicitly  renounced  Preshyte- 
rianism,  which  that  Vote  was  intended  to  introduce  ;  and  have 
adopted  Congregationalism. 

"5.  If  it  had  not  been  renounced,  but  made  our  own  act  as 
much  as  we  could  make  it  so,  it  must  be  understood  only  as  a  ge- 
neral rule,  and  could  not  be  of  force  in  extraordinary  cases,  in 
which  it  would  be  contrary  to  reason  and  the  rights  of  mankind  to 
adhere  to  it ;  for  as  far  as  it  is  contrary  to  these,  it  is  contrary  to 
the  law  of  nature,  which  is  the  law  of  God,  and  the  law  of  Christ 
the  great  Head  of  the  Church. 

"  6.  In  this  very  case,  the  Church  themselves  propose  to  re- 
nounce this  act.  The  Vote  speaks  of  a  Council  of  all  the  Churches 
of  tlie  County,  taking  them  as  they  are,  without  election  ;  whereas 
the  Church  have  only  insisted  on  a  small  part  of  these  Churches 
designated  by  election.  But  surely  if  all  of  the  Vote  is  not  bind- 
ing, no  part  of  it  is  binding. 

"  As  to  what  I  wrote  fourteen  years  ago,  in  the  controversy,  con- 
cerning the  settlement  of  Mr.  B ,   at   Springfield,  wherein  1 

say, — That  the  affairs  of  Religion  are  not  confined  to  single 
churches,  properly  belonging  to  the  neighbouring  churches  ; — I 
would  observe  as  follows  : 

"1.  It  would  be  unreasonable  to  understand  me  otherwise  than 
I  really  intended,  viz.  That  this  ought  to  be  regarded  as  a  general 
rule,  and  an  ordinary  point  of  regularity.  I  suppose  that  the  neigh- 
bouring ministers  think  it  a  good  general  rule  as  well  as  I,  and  have 
perhnps,  expressed  themselves  to  that  effect ;  yet  I  have  no  reason 
to  think  there  is  one  of  them,  who  thinks  it  a  rule  that  will  allow 
of  no  dispensation.  Which  of  the  Rev.  Ministers  here  present, 
who  knows  what  the  state  of  things  has  been  of  late  in  Connecti- 
cut, with  regard  to  some  of  the  associations  there,  and  especially 
with  regard  to  one,  would  think  that  every  church  and  every  minis- 
ter within  its  bounds,  in  all  ecclesiastical  affairs  in  which  they  need- 
ed the  help  of  other  churches  and  ministers,  ought  to  be  obliged  in 


LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  353 

every  case  to  make  use  of,  aiul  snljiiiit,  to  tlio  neighboin'ini:^  minis- 
ters, and  them  only.  Yet  tlicir  Associations  and  Consociations  have 
much  stronger  claims  to  be  regarded  as  an  es-lahlishment,  than 
any  thing  of  a  like  nature  among  us. 

"  2.  It  is  not  merely  on  this  occasion,  when  I  myself  am  con- 
cerned and  my  own  interest  touched,  that  I  have  insisted  that  there 
ought  to  be  exceptions  in  extraordinary  cases  from  this  general  rule ; 

for  I  insisted  on  this  in  that  very  controversy  respecting  Mr.  B . 

There  is  abundant  evidence  also,  that  I  expressed  the  same  opin- 
ion long  ago,  before  the  controversy  between  me  and  my  people 
w^as  begun.  Some  of  the  ministers  here  present  are  my  witnesses, 
that  I  expressed  the  same  opinion,  on  occasion  of  the  transactions 
of  some  of  the  associations  in  Connecticut.  And  this  whole 
church  are  my  witnesses  to  the  same  point :  They  know  that  I 
signified  as  much  publicly  in  word  and  deed,  wiien  the  Separate 
Society  in  New-Haven  sent  to  this  Church  to  assist  them  in  Coun- 
cil, by  their  pastor  and  a  messenger.  And  the  Church  themselves 
did,  on  that  occasion,  publicly  consent  to  a  departure  from  this  ge- 
neral rule,  without  any  objection  made  by  even  one  individual ;  and 
accordingly  a  messenger  was  actually  chosen  by  them,  to  go  with 
me  as  a  member  of  the  Council  at  New-Haven. 

"  3.  Suppose  it  could  have  been  made  to  appear,  that,  in  what 
I  wrote  fourteen  years  ago  in  that  controversy,  I  expressed  myself 
in  universal  terms, — That  I  declared  it  to  be  my  opinion,  that  there 
ought  to  be  no  exception  in  no  case  whatever, — and  that  I  could 
not  prove  that  I  had  ever  changed  my  mind  until  now,  when  it 
comes  to  be  my  own  case  ;  yet,  even  in  that  case,  the  question  to 
be  decided  by  this  Council,  as  I  humbly  conceive,  would  be, — not 
what  my  opinion  once  w^as  ;  but — what  is  really  just  and  right  in  its 
own  nature.  The  judgment  is  the  Lord's,  and  the  rules  by  which 
the  judges  are  to  proceed  are  the  Lord's,  and  not  mine,  nor  any 
other  man's.  They  are  to  decide,  according  to  the  rules  of  rea- 
son and  the  word  of  God,  what  are  God's  rules  ;  and  not  by  what 
once  was,  or  now  is,  my  opinion.  If  a  man  had  a  cause  depend- 
ing before  a  civil  tribunal,  and  it  could  be  proved  that,  this  man 
fourteen  years  ago  had  given  it  as  his  opinion,  in  another  man's 
case,  that  such  a  thing  w^as  according  to  law  ;  which  opinion,  if 
now  adopted  as  a  rule  by  the  judges,  would  operate  against  him ; 
I  conceive  that  the  judges  ought  not  to  be  determined,  even  if  he 
expressed  himself  in  an  unqualified  manner,  by  what  he  then  de- 
clared to  be  law^,  in  his  opinion ;  but,  as  they  are  to  judge  for  the 
King  and  country,  they  must  judge  according  to  what  they  them- 
selves find  to  be  law,  which  is  the  rule  they  are  to  go  by. 

"  If  any  .shall  say  that  it  is  but  just,  that  I  should  be  paid  in  my 
own  coin,  that  I  should  be  dealt  with  myself  as  I  have  dealt  Avith 
others ;  I  need  not  inform  this  venerable  Council  that  the  christian 
rule  is,  to  deal  by  another,  not  as  he  hath  dealt  by  me,  or  by  his 

Vol.  I.  '  45 


264  LIFE    or    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

neighbour,  but  as  I  would  that  iio  should  have  dealt  by  me,  and  as 
he  ought  to  Iiave  dealt  by  his  neighbour.  But  if  any  should  insist 
that  this  is  but  a  proper  punishment  for  my  dealing  in  that  manner 
with  Mr.  B— ;  omitting  many  things  that  might  be  said  concern- 
ing the  diflerence  of  the  two  cases,  I  would  only  say,  that  my  crime 
in  that  case,  if  there  was  any,  for  wliich  I  deserve  to  be  punished, 
was  not  doing  or  acting  any  thing  tuJmtever,  in  opposition  to  Mr. 

B — 's  being  setded  by  ministers  from  a  distance.     I  had  no  hand 

at  all  in  opposing  these  ministers,  in  any  thing  they  did  ;  for  all  that 
was  done  of  that  nature,  was  done  when  I  was  not  in  New^  Eng- 
land, and  when  I  w^as  totally  ignorant  of  any  thing  that  was  done 
until  all  w^as  over.  I^ly  crime  Vv'as  m.ercly  defending  what  others 
had  done,  at  their  request.  What  I  \\Tote,  was  at  the  desire  of  my 
honoured  uncle,  Mr.  Williams  of  Hatfield,  and  other  ministers  who 
had  been  concerned,  to  justify  what  they  had  done.  So  that,  if 
what  I  then  wrote,  even  supposing  that  I  had  expressed  the  opin- 
ion that  there  should  be  no  exceptions  to  the  rule,  would  hardly 
justify  this  Council  in  proceeding  with  me,  in  this  case,  on  princi- 
ples, which  otherwise  would  not  be  righteous  ;  it  must  be,  because 
the  Council  esteem  it  a  sufficient  reason  to  depart  from  what  is  just 
and  equitable  in  itself,  in  tlieir  dealings  with  me,  to  do  according  to 
an  opinion  which  I  expressed  many  years  ago,  in  the  vindication 
of  others.  Far  be  it  from  me,  to  entertain  so  low  an  opinion  of 
the  wisdom  and  justice  of  tliis  reverend  Council. 

"  Having  made  these  observations,  there  is  no  need  of  my  saying 
any  thing  further  concerning  a  practical  agreement  of  the  churches 
of  the  County,  to  manage  their  ecclesiastical  affairs  among  them- 
selves. I  would  only  briefly  observe,  that  what  I  say  of  this,  in 
what  I  wrote  relative  to  the  case  of  Mr.  B.,  obviously  had  reference 
to  the  Ordination  of  ministers.  That  was  a  case  of  ordination, 
and  I  do  not  remember  that  1  ever  knew  or  had  heard  any  thing  of 
a  Council  of  ministers  in  this  County,  on  any  other  occasion  but  the 
ordination  of  ministers.  But  had  my  meaning  been  difierent,  the 
preceding  remarks  are  sufficient  to  show,  that  nothing  could  have 
been  inferred  from  it,  which  ought  to  govern  in  the  present  case. 
If  there  has  rarely  been  a  Council  of  Churches  in  the  County,  in 
cases  of  controversy  in  particular  churches  ;  then  the  instances  do 
not  amount  to  an  established  rule  for  all  cases,  both  ordmary  and 
extraordinary.  And  if  the  instances  had  been  ever  so  numerous, 
yet  custom  can  establish  notliing  contrary  to  Christ's  own  rules — ^the 
rules  of  reason,  and  the  rules  of  natural  righteousness  and  equity. 

"  It  is  also  objected,  that  to  allow^  ministers  to  go  out  of  the  Coun- 
ty for  a  Council,  in  cases  like  this,  ^\ill  open  a  door  for  error  which 
cannot  be  closed  ;  and  that  I  assert  the  same  in  what  I  \\Tote  con- 
cerning the  ordination  at  Springfield.  To  this  objection  a  very  brief 
reply  will  be  sufficient. 

"  1 .  What  I  assert  in  the  communication  referred  to  is  this — 


LIFE    OF    PllEijlDENT     KDWAUJDS.  <J55 

"  That  to  allow  one  ])urty  to  elect  all  his  oivn  judges^  will  be  to 
open  a  door  to  error."— And  it  is  very  true  that  when  that  is  done 
tliere  can  be  no  security  to  the  other  party  against  any  injustice,  or 
any  thing  else  that  is  bad.  But  I  never  asserted  that  to  call  an  Im- 
partial Council,  was  the  way  in  which  eidier  truth  or  justice  could 
not  be  defended.  Had  I  done  so,  I  should  obviously  have  asserted 
the  grossest  absurdity. 

"  2.  If  it  had  so  happened  that  half  of  the  ministers  in  the  coun- 
ty had  been  of  my  opinion  on  the  Qualifications  for  communion ; 
according  to  this  argument,  it  would  as  effectually  have  opened  the 
door  to  error,  to  choose  my  part  of  the  Council  from  within  the 
County,  as  it  will  now  to  choose  it  from  widiout ;  and  if  so,  it  would 
have  been,  in  that  case,  a  good  argument  against  my  having  any 
choice  at  all.  And  this  is  in  effect  saying,  that  there  ought  to  be  no 
judges  allowed  in  the  controversy,  except  the  people  themselves, 
who  constitute  one  of  the  parties ;  because,  for  them  to  have  all 
their  judges  of  their  own  choosing,  is  one  and  the  same  thing  as  to 
be  their  ow^n  judges.  And  if  it  had  happened  that  the  churches  in 
the  county  had  been  almost  all  of  my  opinion,  as  now  diey  are  of 
theirs  ;  then  the  argument  would  be  just  as  strong  for  their  going  out 
of  the  county,  as  now  for  confining  me  to  it.  Can  this  Venerable 
Council  lend  thek  sanction  to  a  rule  which  works  such  manifest  in- 
justice? 

"3.  This  rule  will  no  more  defend  truth  than  expose  it.  If  a 
particular  church  is  in  the  right,  and  the  rest  of  the  county  ha])pens 
to  be  in  the  wrong ;  then  diat  church,  in  summoning  a  Council,  re- 
ceives, by  adhering  to  this  rule,  just  as  much  disadvantage,  as  they 
would  receive  advantage,  if  the  reverse  w^ere  the  fact.  And  we  all 
know  that  there  are  as  many  churches,  and  counties,  and  countries, 
wliich  are  erroneous,  as  orthodox— nay,  many  more. 

"  4.  The  objectors,  in  making  this  objection,  implicitly  admit, 
tiiat  those  who  are  on  one  side  in  the  original  controversy,  arc  not 
likely  to  be  impartial,  and  tiicrefore  not  likely  to  do  justice  to  the 
otiier  side.  Otherwise,  how  would  the  cause  of  trutii  be  exposed 
by  a  Council,  though  they  should  all  be  on  my  side,  much  less  by 
one  half  o(  them  being  so.  And  if  their  being  all  on  my  side,  will 
naturally  bias  them  in  favour  of  me  and  my  conduct ;  tiien,  by  pa- 
rity of  reason,  their  being  ail  on  their  side  will  naturally  bias  diem  in 
favour  of  them  and  their  conduct.  If  tiiis  be  so,  it  proves  the  ne- 
cessity of  a  balance  in  the  Council,  to  bring  the  whole,  taken  toge- 
ther, to  an  equilibrium. 

"  I  will  now  take  notice  of  an  objection  which  may  possibly  arise 
in  the  minds  of  some  of  tiie  Council,  viz.  That  if  I  am  allov/ed  to  go 
out  of  die  county,  on  die  ground  that  this  is  an  exaaordinary  case,  it 
will  be  a  bad  precedent,  and  others  will  insist  on  the  like  liberty, 
and  will,  on  some  pretence  or  other,  claim  diat  dieir  case  is  also  ex- 


356  LIFE    OF    PKESiDENT    EDVvAKD^. 

traordinaiy ;  and  thus  it  will   be  difHciilt  to  maintain  any  rule  or 
keep  any  bounds  in  any  case.     To  this  I  would  reply, 

"1.  If  this  be  a  case  of  such  character,  that  righteousness  plainly 
requires  that  I  have  this  liberty,  the  fear  of  others  claiming  the  same 
without  reason,  ought  not  to  prevent  justice  from  being  now  done 
to  me.  It  is  a  very  common  tiling,  because  exceptions  and  pecuhar 
liberties  are  granted  in  extraordinary  cases,  to  demand  them  in 
others  where  they  ought  not  to  be  granted ;  but  surely  this  is  no 
good  reason  for  not  granting  them  in  a  case  where  it  would  plainly 
be  the  grossest  injustice  to  refuse  them.  But,  not  to  enlarge  on 
this  point,  I  observe 

"  2.  That  in  this  case,  as  it  now  stands,  there  can  be  no  jwssible 
danger  of  a  bad  precedent,  in  allowing  me  to  go  out  of  the  county, 
on  the  ground  that  justice  imperiously  requires  it ;  because  I  have 
first  submitted  the  decision  of  this  matter  to  a  Council  of  the  neigh- 
bouring churches,  who  are  to  determine  whether  this  be  a  case, 
which  requires  this  liberty  to  be  granted  or  not.  So  that,  instead 
of  its  being  a  dangerous  precedent,  it  is  a  precedent  which  will  tend 
rather  to  screen  the  churches  from  all  the  inconveniences  feared  ; 
because  it  is  not  an  instance  of  going  abroad  for  a  Council,  in  neglect 
and  contempt  of  the  churches  of  the  neighbourhood,  but  the 
churches  of  the  neighbourhood  ai-e  first  applied  to,  and  they  tliem- 
selves  are  made  the  judges  whether  the  case  is  extraordinary  or 
not.  If  we  could  actually  form  as  strict  and  firm  an  establishment, 
widi  regard  to  a  limitation  of  Councils  to  a  neighbourhood,  as  any 
of  us  could  desire,  I  should  think  no  man  could  desire  a  greater 
strictness  than  this — that  no  minister  or  church  should  depart  from 
such  a  strict  consistory,  even  in  extraordinary  cases,  but  with  the 
approbation  and  by  the  allowance  of  that  consistory.  If  we  wish- 
ed to  contrive  a  method,  which  should  effectually  prevent  the  mis- 
chief of  extraordinary  cases  being  made  precedents  for  ordinary 
ones,  we  could  not  contri\e  one  more  effectual  than  this — That  the 
churches  of  the  neighbourhood  themselves  should  be  the  judges  of 
those  extraordinary  cases.  In  this  way  the  neighbourhood  has  all 
the  opportunity  for  self  preservation,  which  it  can  possibly  desire. 

''  I  ask  the  pardon  of  the  Rev.  Council  for  being  thus  particular 
in  my  argument  on  this  subject :  the  case  being  one,  as  may  easily  be 
seen,  of  vast  consequence  to  me  and  my  family.  I  hope  notwith- 
standing, that  every  thing  which  has  been  said  will  have  its  due 
weight  with  the  Council ;  and  that,  since  I  have  submitted  this  ques- 
tion, so  deeply  interesting  to  myself,  to  judges  who  are  all  of  a  con- 
trary opinion  from  me,  in  the  main  controversy  between  the  two  par- 
ties, between  whom  you  aj-e  to  judge,  that  I  shall  experience  the  happy 
effects  of  your  steady  and  unshaken  integrity,  in  your  righteous  de- 
termination of  this  important  point." 


WHEN  the  aa;ents  for  the  church  had  said  what  thev  tIioii2;lit 


LIFE    OF    rilESIDENT    EDWARDS.  357 

])roper,  in  reply  to  the  preceding  remarks,  Mr.  Edwards  presented 
to  the  Council  the  following  considerations  on  the  question, —  Whe- 
ther the  state  of  things  was  then  ripe,  for  a  Council  being  called  to 
judge,  ivhetherhe  should  be  dismissed  f?'om  his  pastoral  office  or  not  ? 

"  I  suppose  the  state  of  things  not  ripe  for  the  calling  of  a 
Council  to  decide  on  the  question  of  dismission  for  the  following 
reasons : 

"I.  It  is  very  apparent  that  my  people  have  never  yet  given  me 
a  proper  hearing  on  the  great  question,  which  is  tlie  origin  of  all  our 
present  debates  and  difficulties,  and  which  must  be  the  ground  of 
their  rejecting  me  from  being  their  pastor,  if  ever  this  be  done  in  the 
issue  of  the  present  controversy.  I  say  the  ground  of  their  reject- 
ing me — for  if  I  am  removed  from  being  their  pastor,  they  must  re- 
ject me ;  they  must  first  vote  for  my  being  removed.  Though 
this  alone  will  not  dissolve  the  relation  between  me  and  them,  yet, 
as  a  precedent  step,  it  is  indispensably  requisite. 

"  But  if  any  rules  of  reason  or  religion  are  to  be  regarded,  this 
cannot  be  done,  until  they  have  first  given  me  a  fair  hearing  on  that 
point,  which  is  the  cause  of  their  demanding  such  a  dissolution.  In 
the  solemn  transaction  of  my  ordination  and  settlement  as  their  pas- 
tor, I  on  my  part  took  the  charge  of  their  souls  ;  and  they,  as  in  the 
presence  of  God,  solemnly  committed  the  care  of  their  souls  to  me  ; 
and  thus  the  relation  w^iich  now  subsists,  was  established  between 
me  and  them  by  mutual  covenant.  Hence,  if  ever  they  reject  me 
from  being  their  pastor,  and  are  active  in  withdrawing  themselves 
from  my  ministerial  care,  it  must  be  on  one  of  these  two  accounts  ; 
either,  1,  Because  they  suppose  me  obviously  unfit  to  be  a  minister; 
or  2,  Because  they  suppose  that  I  fail  of  performing  some  of  the 
essential  duties  of  a  minister, — such  as  are  made  essential  by  Christ's 
appointment.  The  former  of  these  reasons  has  not  been  insisted 
on.  If  they  suppose  that  I  fail  in  the  latter  respect,  and  that  I  ne- 
glect to  perform  some  of  the  essenfial  duties  of  a  minister ;  and  I  in- 
sist on  my  own  justification,  and  plead  that  what  I  do  is  agreeable 
to  the  word  and  institutions  of  Christ,  and  therefore  my  duty  as  a 
minister  of  Christ;  they  are  bound  to  give  me  a  fair  and  full  hearing, 
before  I  can  be  rejected  by  them,  or  they  released  from  their  sacred 
obligations  to  me  as  my  people.  Especially  is  this  true,  if  the  point, 
on  which  they  insist,  was  never  so  settled  in  the  Church  of  Christ, 
as  to  be  regarded  as  indisputable,  and  still  more,  if  a  very  great 
proportion  of  those,  who  have  been  universally  esteemed  orthodox 
chrisfians  and  divines,  have  without  dispute  been  on  my  side.  In 
such  a  case  as  this,  w^hat  pretence  can  a  people  have  for  bursting 
the  sacred  bonds  of  their  covenant  with  their  pasto]*,  without  hearing 
liim. 

"  If  the  determination  of  no  such  important  })ublic  act  of  theirs 
depended  on  their  judgment  of  the  matter,  but  1  merely  offered  tf» 


358  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

deliver  the  doctrine  for  which  I  insist,  as  part  of  the  Counsel  of  God  ; 
on  this  account  alone,  my  people  would  be  obliged,  on  a  disputable 
point,  to  give  me  an  impartial  hearing.  A  minister  by  his  office  is 
to  be  the  guide  and  instructor  of  his  people.  To  that  end  he  is  to 
study  and  search  the  Scriptures  and  to  teach  the  people,  not  the 
opinions  of  men — of  other  divines  or  of  tlieir  ancestors — ^but  the 
mind  of  Christ.  As  he  is  set  to  enlighten  them,  so  a  part  of  his 
duty  is  to  rectify  their  mistakes,  and,  if  he  sees  them  out  of  the  way 
of  truth  or  duty,  to  be  a  voice  behind  them,  saying,  "  This  is  the  way, 
walk  ye  in  it."  Hence,  if  what  he  offers  to  exhibit  to  them  as 
the  mind  of  Christ,  be  different  from  their  previous  apprehensions, 
unless  it  be  on  some  point  which  is  established  in  the  Church  of 
God  as  fundamental,  surely  they  are  obliged  to  hear  him.  If  not, 
there  is  an  end  at  once  to  all  the  use  and  benefit  of  teachers  in  the 
church  in  these  respects — as  the  means  of  increasing  its  light  and 
knowledge,  and  of  reclaiming  it  from  mistakes  and  errors.  This 
w^ould  be  in  effect  to  establish,  not  the  word  of  Christ,  but  the  opin- 
ion of  the  last  generation  in  each  town  and  church,  as  an  immu- 
table rule  to  all  future  generations  to  tlie  end  of  the  world.  Tlius 
it  would  evidently  be  tlie  duty  of  a  people  to  their  pastor,  in 
such  a  case,  if  no  such  important  act  of  tlieirs  with  respect  to  him, 
as  their  rejecting  him  from  being  tlieir  pastor,  depended  upon  it. 
But  when  they  are  proposing  to  withdraw  themselves  wholly  from 
him  to  cast  off  all  the  bonds  of  their  covenant  with  him,  to 
withhold  his  maintenance,  casting  him  and  liis  family  on  the  wide 
world,  and  to  renounce  ail  the  obligations  and  duties  which  they 
owe  to  him  as  their  pastor;  and  their  doing  this  depends  on 
their  judgment  of  the  doctrine,  which  he  offers  to  preach  to 
them,  as  the  mind  of  Christ ;  for  them  resolutely  and  finally  to 
refuse  so  much  as  to  give  him  a  hearing,  is  one  of  the  most 
flagrant  instances  of  injustice,  m  a  people  towards  dieir  pastor, 
which  perhaps  has  been  heard  of  in  these  parts  of  the  world. 

"  Surely,  the  state  of  things  among  a  people,  cannot  be  regard- 
ed as  ripe  for  such  important  proceedings  as  tliese,  till  they  ai-e  in 
a  capacity  to  act  in  them  understandingly,  and  as  knowing  what 
they  do.  But  it  is  obvious  that  this  cannot  be,  until  they  have  giv- 
en their  pastor  a  fair  hearing ;  nor  can  they  ever  be  regarded  as 
having  prepared  themselves  for  thus  rejecting  their  pastor,  as  hav- 
ing no  farther  concern  with  him  in  a  pastoral  relation,  until  they 
have  first  discharged  the  debt  or  obhgation  due  to  him  as  their  pas- 
tor ;  and  this  cannot  be  done,  until  diey  have  heard  him,  until  they 
have  lieard  what  he  offers  to  teach  them  as  the  mind  and  will  of 
Chi'ist,  have  heard  what  he  has  to  say  for  himself  in  this  matter, 
wherein  they  are  offended  widi  him,  as  supposing  that  he  fails  to 
perform  the  duty  of  a  minister  of  Christ  towards  them. 

"  This  Church,  in  its  first  establishment,  held  the  very  princi- 
ples for  which  I  now  contend  ;  but  Mr.  Stoddard  was  of  a  contra- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  359 

ry  opinion,  and  from  the  pulpit  he  freely  and  abundantly  delivered 
what  he  supposed  to  be  the  mind  and  will  of  God.  And  was  it 
ever  doubted,  whether  the  people  were  obliged  to  give  him  a  hear- 
ing ?  In  the  days  of  j\Ir.  IMather,  the  Church  was  CGngrcgational 
in  its  principles  and  practice.  Mr.  Stoddard  was  a  Presbyterian, 
and  abundantly  preached  his  Presbyterian  principles ;  and  did  any 
body  doubt  of  their  obligation  to  hear  him  ?  Yea,  it  never  entered 
into  the  hearts  of  the  people,  that  any  proceeding  of  theirs,  so 
important  as  their  rejecting  him  from  being  their  minister,  depend- 
ed on  their  judgment  of  his  doctrine. 

"  That  my  people  have  never  given  me  a  fair  hearing  on  the 
point  of  controversy  between  us,  is  exceedingly  apparent. 

"  They  have  never  generally  read  the  work,  which  I  have  pub- 
lished on  the  subject.  This  is  publicly  confessed.  Only  twenty 
copies  have  been  procured.  INIany  of  those  who  might  have  read 
even  these,  have  showed  an  utter  aversion  to  reading  it.  One  of 
my  most  strenuous  opposers  declares,  that  the  people  are  in  no 
way  to  be  informed  of  the  reasons  of  my  opinion,  for  two  years  to 
come ;  w^hile  others  have  asserted,  that  they  are  never  likely  to  be 
generally  informed.  Numerous  witnesses  declare,  that  some  have 
altogether  refused  to  read  it,  and  that  others  have  said,  that  they 
would  not  even  let  the  book  come  into  their  houses.  If  the  Coun- 
cil are  at  a  loss  on  this  point,  or  any  one  should  call  it  in  question,  I 
suppose  there  are  numbers  present,  who  can  say  enough  with  re- 
gard to  it,  to  satisfy  any  reasonable  person. 

'•  From  the  Narrative  which  has  been  given,  the  Council  also 
see  how  stiffly  and  inflexibly  the  Committee,  and  the  people,  have 
ever  declined  hearing  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit, 
when  proposed  from  time  to  time,  before  the  printing  of  my  book, 
and  since  ;  and  how  they  have  been  so  much  engaged  in  the  mat- 
ter, that  they  have  repeatedly  refused  to  have  the  question,  wheth- 
er it  was  reasonable  and  best  that  I  should  preach  upon  the  subject, 
submitted  to  the  neighbouring  ministers,  or  to  any  Council  whatso- 
ever. Before  the  publication  of  my  pamphlet,  they  w^ould  not  con- 
sent that  I  should  preach,  on  the  ground  that  it  was  best  I  should 
publish  ;  and  now  I  have  published,  they  will  not  read. 

"  Finally.  Though  I  have  often  desired  it,  they  have  never 
given  me  an  opportunity  to  state  the  reasons  of  my  opinion,  even  in 
private  conversation. 

"  Thus,  the  great  part  of  my  people  have  refused  to  give  me 
any  hearing  at  all,  or  to  suffer  themselves  to  be  informed  in  any 
w^ay  whatsoever,  of  the  reasons  of  my  opinion.  Nay,  they  have 
industriously  guarded  against  it,  as  what  they  have  so  much  dread- 
ed, that  they  would  by  no  means  allow  of  any  advice,  or  any  thing 
which  they  thoughtmightopenadoor  for  it;  but  have  been  engaged 
to  have  me  hastily  thrust  out,  before  there  should  be  any  farther 
opportunity  for  the  people  to  be  informed,  lest  it  should  make  some 


3<30  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

proselytes  to  my  sentiments,  and  thus  divide  the  j^eople,  and  make 
parties  among  them.  If  this  be  not  a  violent  proceeding  for  a 
Christian  Church  towards  their  pastor,  I  never  expect  to  know 
what  is.  Herein,  they  have  not  only  violated  the  rules  of  chris- 
tian charity  and  gentleness,  and  acted  inconsistently  with  moral 
righteousness,  but  very  inconsistently  with  themselves.  They 
themselves,  from  the  beginning,  have  implicitly  acknowledged,  that 
I  had  a  right  to  be  heard  by  them,  and  that  there  was  a  necessity 
that  the  people  should  in  some  way  or  other  be  informed  of  the 
reasons  of  my  opinion.  If  there  was  no  need  of  this,  then  what 
need  of  their  desiring  me  to  print  my  reasons ;  and  what  need  of 
their  meeting  together  in  July,  to  see  if  tliey  should  wait  any  longer 
for  my  book  ;  and  what  need  of  their  desiring  Col.  Dwight  to  en- 
quire when  the  books  were  likely  to  be  done,  and  to  send  them 
word  ;  and  what  need  of  their  determining,  if  the  books  were  like- 
ly to  come  speedily,  that  they  would  wait  for  them ;  and  what 
need,  after  the  books  came,  of  their  forbearing  to  act  for  about  two 
months  ? 

"  It  may  here  be  said  that,  akhough  the  people  in  general  have 
not  read  my  pamphlet,  yet  most  of  the  leading  men  in  the  Church 
have  read  it.  To  this  I  answer ;  If  I  have  a  right  to  be  heard 
by  some,  I  have  a  right  to  be  heard  by  the  body,  of  the  people. 
What  need  of  any  being  informed,  if  there  be  no  need  of  the  peo- 
ple in  general  being  informed?  If  one  can  be  justified  in  refusing 
to  read  or  hear,  why  not  another ;  and  ^why  may  not  every  one  be 
justified,  in  refusing  to  hear  or  read  a  word.  And  thus,  why  might 
not  the  people  have  thrust  me  out  immediately,  as  soon  as  they 
knew  my  opinion,  witliout  giving  me  any  opportunity  to  print  or 
speak  any  thing  for  myself?  The  controversy  on  this  subject,  is 
between  me  and  the  Church,  and  not  between  me  and  the  leading 
men  of  the  Church ;  and  if  I  have  any  right  to  be  heard  at  all,  it  is 
by  them  with  whom  I  have  this  controversy.  It  is  not  merely  the 
leading  men,  but  all  the  brethren,  who  are  to  have  a  hand  in  the 
act  of  the  Church,  which  must  make  way  for  a  dissolution  of  my 
pastoral  relation  to  them,  if  it  be  dissolved.  They  have  lately,  ex- 
pressly and  deliberately  refused  to  leave  the  government  of  the 
Church  to  the  leading  men,  in  a  public  formal  consideration  of  the 
matter ;  but  w^ould  have  it  in  the  hands  of  the  whole  Society.  If 
others  beside  the  leading  men  are  not  set  aside  as  c}^^ihers  in  actings 
with  regard  to  my  being  turned  away,  they  ought  not  to  be  set  aside 
as  cyphers  in  learning  and  judging. 

"The  grand  reason  continually  urged  and  insisted  on,  why  my 
reasons  should  not  be  heard  from  the  pulpit,  has  been — That  there 
was  danger  of  its  making  parties  in  the  town.  Now  I  beseech  the 
reverend  Council  to  consider,  for  a  moment,  what  sort  of  an  objec- 
tion this  is. — The  very  reason,  why  it  is  thought  just  that  a  person, 
in  a  cause  in  which  he  is  liable  to  suffer,   should   be   allowed  to 


LIFE    OF    PRFSIDENT    EDWARDJi.  3G1 

plead  Ills  own  cause,  is — that  he  may  have  fair  opporluulty,  before 
he  suffers,  to  convince  others  that  his  cause  is  good.  What  a 
strange  reason  then  is  it,  why  a  man  in  such  a  case  should  not  be 
allowed  to  plead  his  own  cause,  and  why  his  plea  should  not  be 
heard, — lest  some  of  those  to  whom  he  offers  his  plea,  should  be 
convinced  that  his  cause  is  good.  So  unreasonable  is  this  opinion, 
that  the  very  end  of  a  man's  pleading  his  cause,  and  the  very  thing 
which  is  the  sole  ground  and  reason  why  it  is  accounted  fair  and 
just,  that  a  man  should  be  allowed  to  plead  his  own  cause,  viz.  a 
fair  opportunity  to  convince  others  that  his  cause  is  good — is  by  the 
people  made  the  main  objection  why  I  should  not  plead  my  own 
cause — viz.  because  if  I  do,  there  will  be  an  opportunity,  and  so 
a  possibility,  of  convincing  some  that  my  cause  is  good. 

"  The  case  would  be  the  same,  if  it  were  a  cause,  on  the  issue 
of  which  my  life  depended,  and  the  people,  as  at  present,  before  a 
hearing,  were  generally  united  to  condemn  me.  In  that  case,  on 
hearing  my  plea  for  myself,  the  people  might  be  divided.  Tliis 
discussion  might  occasion  parties,  and  unhappy  contentions.  This 
is  not  only  possible,  but  often  has  actually  been  the  case,  with  re- 
gard to  the  execution  of  persons  in  a  public  capacity.  How  often 
have  cities  and  nations  been  set  into  a  ferment  on  such  occasions. 
Must  we  therefore  say,  that  the  suspected  person  shall  have  no 
hearing,  because  the  people — the  judges  on  whose  voice  in  die 
case  his  life  depends — are  united  in  condemning  him ;  but  there  is 
danger  of  their  being  divided,  if  he  is  allowed  to  speak  for  himself. 

"  And  besides,  my  people,  in  the  very  making  of  this  objection, 
are  condemned  oat  of  their  own  mouths.  The  objection,  m  the 
very  terms  of  it,  is  an  Implicit  acknowledgment,  that  there  has 
been  as  yet  no  sufficient  trial,  what  the  minds  of  the  people  would 
be,  on  a  fair  and  full  hearing  of  what  I  have  to  say  for  myself — ^yea, 
a  confession  that  they  suspect,  and  that  very  strongly,  that  the  opin- 
ions of  many,  If  I  should  have  a  full  hearing,  would  be  far  other- 
wise than  now.  For,  if  not,  how  would  the  people,  after  hearing 
me,  be  divided  into  parties,  any  more  than  they  are  now?  But  if, 
as  they  thus  confess,  there  has  been  no  sufficient  trial,  what  the 
minds  of  the  people  would  be  after  a  full  hearing,  certainly  there 
ought  to  be  a  sufficient  trial,  and  they^  ought  not  to  strive  to  hinder 
it ;  for  in  striving  to  hinder  it,  they  do  directly  and  avowedly  strive 
to  have  me  condemned  and  turned  out  of  the  ministry,  and  with 
my  family  deprived  of  maintenance,  without  a  fair  and  proper  trial ; 
which  is  certainly  the  most  barefaced  injustice. 

"  But  it  may  be  asked — "  Why  did  not  you  preach  ?  Who  has 
hindered  you  ?  If  you  have  a  right  to  preach,  why  did  you  not  use 
your  right,  without  waidng  for  the  consent  of  the  people  ?" — To  this 
question,  I  have  several  answers. 

''  1.  When,  for  the  sake  of  peace,  I  have  repeatedly  proposed  fo 
the  people  that,  with  their  consent,  I  would  preach  upon  the  sub- 

Vol.  L  46 


362  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ject,  they  have,  as  I  just  observed,  uniformly  refused  it ;  and  have 
also  refused,  from  time  to  time,  even  to  submit  the  point,  whether 
it  was  reasonable  that  I  should  preach  upon  it,  to  the  neighbouring 
ministers.  After  such  refusals,  this  question  should  scarcely  be 
asked,  and  certainly  not  by  my  people. 

"  2.  The  state  of  the  people  has  been  most  obviously  such,  that, 
if  I  had  taken  any  opportunity  on  the  Sabbath,  without  their  pre- 
vious consent,  it  would  have  been  the  occasion  of  tumult  on  that 
holy  day,  to  the  extreme  dishonour  of  Christ,  and  w^ounding  the 
interests  of  religion.  Noise  and  uproar  have  risen  to  such  a  height 
already,  that  I  cannot  think  that  it  was  my  duty,  or  tliat  it  would 
have  become  the  prudence  and  moderation  of  a  minister  of  the 
Gospel.  It  would  have  had  the  appearance  of  great  strenuous- 
ness  ;  and  I  thought  it  better  that  the  people  should  first  be  pre- 
pared by  the  advice  of  a  Council,  which  would  greatly  tend  to 
prevent  the  mischievous  effects. 

"  3.  If  I  had  appointed  Lectures,  there  w^as  not  the  least  pro- 
bability that  the  people  would  have  attended  them.  Of  this  the 
Rev.  Council  will  be  satisfied,  by  considering  the  account  they 
have  had  of  their  conduct. 

"  On  the  whole,  I  tliought  it  the  most  prudent  course  to  wait  for 
a  more  favourable  opportunity. 

"  It  may  be  said.  That  the  people  are  the  more  to  be  justified  in 
rejecting  me,  and  turning  me  out  from  my  office,  widiout  hearing 
me,  because  I  was  settled  on  the  contrary  principles. 

"  I  answer.  That  this  objection  can  be  of  no  force,  unless  they 
mean  by  it,  that  I  settled  on  Mr.  Stoddard's  judgment  as  my  rule. 
If  I  did,  I  did  not  setde  as  a  minister  of  Christ,  but  as  a  minister  of 
IMr.  Stoddard.  Even  if  it  had  been  so,  that  I  had  settled  in  this 
manner,  on  Mr.  Stoddard's  principles,  this  was  one  which  I  found 
among  his  principles,  which  he  expresses  in  one  of  his  works  in 
these  words — "  He,  who  believes  principles  because  our  forefa- 
thers affirm  them,  makes  idols  of  them  ;  and  it  would  be  no  humi- 
lity but  baseness  of  spirit,  for  us  to  judge  ourselves  incapable  of 
examining  principles  which  have  been  handed  down  to  us.  If  we 
are  any  wise  fit  to  open  tlie  mysteries  of  the  Gospel,  we  are  capa- 
ble of  judging  in  these  matters." 

"  It  was  implied  in  my  ordination  vows,  that  I  would  study  the 
Scriptures ;  that  I  would  make  the  word  of  God,  and  not  the  word 
of  any  man,  my  rule  in  teaching  my  people  ;  and  that  I  would  do 
my  utmost  to  know  what  was  the  counsel  of  God,  and  to  declare  it. 
This  was  impHed  in  my  covenant  with  God  and  the  people  at  my 
settlement ;  and  it  was  implied  in  their  covenant  with  God  and  with 
me,  that,  in  my  so  doing,  they  would  diligently  and  impartially  hear 
and  examine  what  I  should  offer  to  them,  as  the  counsel  of  God. 

"  It  is  said.  That  Mr.  Stoddard  would  never  have  consented  to 
my  settling  here,  if  he  had  foreseen  that  I  should  so  differ  from 
him  in  my  principles.     To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  reply,  that  he 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  363 

doubtless  would  have  been  as  much  against  it,  if  he  had  foreseen 
in  me  any  such  departure  from  his  principles,  as  has  actually  taken 
plac3  in  the  church  since  his  death,  with  regard  to  Church  disci- 
pline. I  had  as  much  reason  given  me  by  the  church  in  my  set- 
tlement, to  depend  upon  it,  that  they  would  allow  me  the  same 
power  in  church  government,  which  I  yielded  to  Mr.  Stoddard ; 
as  they  had  to  depend  upon  it,  that  I  would  allow  them  the  same 
open  door  to  the  Lord's  table.  The  church  allowed  Mr.  Stoddard 
a  negative ;  and  never,  so  far  as  I  have  heard  of,  disputed  it,  at 
least  never  in  the  then  existing  generation.  Now  they  greatly  find 
fault  with  me  for  claiming  it,  and  have  departed  to  the  length  of 
Brownism.  They  have  as  properly  departed  from  the  principles 
on  which  they  settled  me,  as  I  have  departed  from  tliose  on  which 
I  accepted  a  settlement. 

"  If  the  objection  should  arise  in  the  minds  of  any  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Rev.  Council, — That,  if  I  should  be  allowed  to  preach 
my  doctrine  to  my  people,  there  might  be  some  danger  of  infecting 
neighbouring  churches ;  I  hope  I  need  not  say  much  in  answer  to 
such  an  objection.  Plain  justice  must  not  be  hindered  and  sup- 
pressed, for  fear  of  some  imagined  accidental  inconveniences. 
The  wiser  Heathen  could  say,  "  fiat  justitia,  ruat  c(elum." — 
Tha  neighboring  ministers  have  as  much  liberty  to  preach  and  defend 
their  principles,  among  their  people,  as  I  desire  to  have  among 
mine,  and  can  do  it  with  far  greater  advantages  than  I  expect  to 
enjoy.  Doubtless  they  will  use  this  liberty,  and  w^ould  take  it  ill  if 
any  one  should  attempt  to  restrain  them.  And  I  trust  they  are 
very  willing  to  do  to  others,  as  they  wish  others  to  do  to  them. 

"  II.  That  the  state  of  things  is  not  ripe  for  calling  the  proposed 
Council,  is  apparent  from  the  frame  and  temper  of  mind  which  my 
people  have  hitherto  been  in,  and  especially  of  late. 

"  I  am  sensible  that  an  Ecclesiastical  Council,  in  their  advice, 
are  not  to  proceed  by  any  uncertain  conjectures  concerning  the  se- 
crets of  men's  hearts.  But  yet,  in  adapting  their  advice  to  the 
state  of  a  people,  they  doubtless  are  to  have  a  regard  to  those 
things  which  are  visible  and  notorious.  What  the  temper  of  the 
minds  of  this  people,  at  least  of  the  governing  part  of  them,  has 
been  hitherto  and  especially  of  late,  has  been  as  manifest,  as  any 
tiling  concerning  the  state  of  a  people  can  be.  It  cannot  be  hid : 
it  must  needs  be  visible  to  all  around  us.  It  is  manifest,  not  only 
from  tlie  customary  conversation  of  the  people  in  private  houses, 
but  from  the  whole  tenor  of  their  public  proceedings — from  the 
methods  which  have  been  taken,  from  the  measures  adopted,  from 
the  proceedings  of  Church  meetings,  and  Precinct  meetings,  and 
their  Committees,  from  the  speeches  which  have  been  publicly 
made,  and  the  acts  which  have  been  publicly  done.  It  would  oc- 
cupy a  great  deal  of  time  to  set  forth  all  the  particulars.  But  this 
is  needless  ;  as  the  Council  has  heard  the  Narrative  of  our  proceed- 
ings up  to  this  day. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAKDS. 


"  The  temper  which  the  people  have  manifested,  1  humbly  con- 
ceive, ought  to  be  the  more  observed  by  the  Rev.  Council,  and  to 
have  the  greater  influence  on  their  determination,  because  I  have 
never  offered  this  people  any  provocation  ;  unless  yielding,  and 
condescending,  and  taking  the  utmost  care  to  avoid  offending  them, 
has  been  a  provocation.  I  have  sought  peace,  and  pursued  it,  and 
have  striven  to  my  utmost  to  avoid  occasions  of  strife.  I  never 
have  clogged  them  in  any  reasonable  proceeding  in  this  afiair, 
though  against  myself.  I  told  them  long  ago,  even  at  the  very  first 
interview  with  the  church, — That,  if  they  insisted  on  calling  a 
Council  immediately,  who  should  have  power  to  finish  our  whole 
controversy,  I  would  not  oppose  or  hinder  it,  though  I  could  not 
advise  to  it.  I  have  yielded  to  them,  from  time  to  time,  in  every 
thing,  wherein  I  could  do  it  with  a  good  conscience.  That  after 
examining  the  subject  by  the  aid  of  tlie  sacred  Scriptures,  in  the 
best  manner  I  am  able,  I  have  adopted,  and  still  hold,  the  senti- 
ments which  I  have  publicly  professed,  with  regard  to  the  Qualifi- 
cations for  full  communion  in  the  Visible  Church ; — and  that  too, 
with  the  fullest  expectation  of  being  driven  from  my  ministerial 
office,  and  stripped  of  a  maintenance  for  my  numerous  family ; — I 
admit.  Whether  in  all  this  I  have  acted  in  the  fear  of  God,  with  a 
good  conscience,  and  in  the  integrity  of  my  heart,  this  Rev.  Coun- 
cil may  judge.  This  one  thing  excepted, — if  it  be  an  exception, — 
I  have  given  my  people  no  sort  of  occasion,  in  any  respect  what- 
soever, for  any  violent  proceeding,  or  the  least  vehemence  ;  unless 
yielding  and  submitting,  for  peace  sake,  be  just  warrant  for  their 
insulting  me  the  more.  For  evidence  of  all  this,  I  appeal  to  the 
Narrative  of  our  proceedings,  which  has  been  read  here  publicly,  in 
the  hearing  of  you  all. 

"  Now  1  think  the  temper  and  frame  of  mind,  which  my  people 
discover,  and  their  violent  manner  of  proceeding  hitherto,  must  lay 
a  bar  in  the  way  of  taking  the  important  step  of  dissolving  the  re- 
lation between  me  and  them  for  the  present ;  and  that  on  two  ac- 
counts : 

*^  1.  Such  a  temper  and  frame  is,  manifestly,  utterly  inconsistent 
with  a  proper  and  just  hearing,  and  considering,  the  reasons  which  I 
have  to  ofTer  for  myself,  in  that  thing  which  is  the  grand  controversy 
between  me  and  them.  So  that  if  it  could  be  proved,  that  they 
had  all  read  my  book  through,  which  it  is  apparent  they  are  far 
from  having  done,  yet  merely  in  this,  they  do  not  discharge  tliem- 
selves.  They  ought  to  give  a  fair  hearing  at  least,  with  some  de- 
gree of  calmness,  candor  and  coohiess  of  consideration  ;  but  from 
facts,  which  are  open  and  public,  it  is  evident  that  they  have  been 
notoriously  far  from  it.  Hearing,  in  a  high  degree  of  fermentation 
of  mind,  manifested  by  continued  outward  irregularity  and  preci- 
pitation of  proceeding,  is  no  fair  hearing,  and  ought  not  to  stand 
for  any  thing,  or  to  be  regarded  as  any  hearing  at  all  by  wise  and 
just  judges.     Hence  it  is  most  plain  that  my  people  are  now  bound 


LIFE    OF    PllESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4G5 

to  give  me  a  fair  hearing,  before  tiiey  can  justly  demand  a  dissolu- 
tion of  my  pastoral  relation ;  and  with  equal  clearness  is  it  mani- 
fest, that  means  must  first  be  used  with  them,  to  bring  them  to  an- 
other temper  of  mind,  before  any  such  demand  can  be  heard  or 
accepted. 

"2.  It  is  in  itself  utterly  unfit  and  unbecoming  in  a  christian 
church,  to  proceed  to  an  affaii'  so  deeply  affecting  tlieir  spiritual 
welfare,  as  the  dismission  of  their  pastor,  in  such  a  temper  of 
mind  :  especially  of  one  w^ho  has  been  so  long  their  pastor,  and 
betw^een  whom  and  them  such  a  state  of  things  has  subsisted  as  be- 
tween me  and  this  people.  The  Aposde  says  to  the  Church  of 
Corinth,  "  Let  all  things  be  done  with  charity  ;" — and  surely  it  is 
unbecoming  churches  of  the  Lamb  of  God,  to  manage  their  reli- 
gious affairs  of  the  greatest  importance,  in  a  ferment  and  tumult ; 
which  ought  to  be  managed  with  great  solemnity,  deep  humiliadon, 
submission  to  the  awful  frowns  of  heaven,  and  humble  dependence 
on  God,  and  with  fervent  prayer  and  supplication.  But  lor  a 
church  to  undertake  such  an  affair,  in  such  a  manner  as  this,  will  be 
most  unbecoming  the  Gospel,  greatly  to  the  dishonour  of  God  and 
religion,  and  eminently  calculated  to  prevent  the  divine  blessing. 

"The  reverend  Council  will  also  perceive,  tliat  the  consequence 
of  my  being  driven  away  in  this  manner  will  be  in  many  respects 
exceedingly  pernicious. 

"1.  It  w^ould  be  a  great  and  most  extensive  injury  to  the  credit 
and  interest  of  religion.  For  the  story  to  be  circulated,  that  the 
people  of  Northampton, — a  people  heretofore  so  often  and  remarka- 
bly distinguished  by  the  divine  favour, — drove  away  their  minister 
in  the  midst  of  so  much  heat  and  contention  ;  I  need  not  say  how 
it  will  w^ound  religion  abroad, 

"  2.  It  will  be  a  great  wrong  to  this  Church  ;  not  only  as  they 
will  thereby  bring  guilt  on  themselves,  but  will  exceedingly  wound 
their  own  reputation  and  interest  in  the  country,  and  render  difficult 
the  future  setdement  of  the  ordinances  of  the  Gospel  among 
diem. 

"  3.  It  will  be  a  great  injmy  to  me. 

"  4.  If  the  people  are  countenanced  in  these  measures  by  a 
Council,  so  far  as  to  advise  to  such  an  issue,  which  die  people  seek 
with  such  a  temper,  and  in  such  a  tumultuous  manner  ;  it  will  in  its 
consequences  be  a  great  injury  to  other  churches  and  ministers,  as 
it  will  directly  encourage  similar  proceedmgs  in  case  of  differences 
betw^een  mmister  and  people.  This  case  is  likely  to  be  very  fa- 
mous ;  the  eyes  of  the  whole  country  are  greatly  drawn  upon  it, 
to  observe  the  management  and  issue  of  it.  It  will  be  likely  to  be 
long  remembered,  and  will  therefore  be  so  much  the  more  likely 
to  be  of  extensive  and  lasting  influence  as  a  precedent. 

"  Hence  I  humbly  conceive  that  there  is  no  ripeness  in  the  pre- 
sent state  of  things,  for  any  hnmediate  measures,  in  order  to  bring 


366  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

about  this  event,  unless  violence  of  spirit  and  of  conduct  be  regard- 
ed as  the  ripeness  of  a  christian  church  for  managing  their  religious 
concerns  of  the  most  solemn  nature,  and  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance. Indeed  this  seems  to  be  the  notion,  which  many  of  the 
church  have  had,  of  such  a  ripeness,  from  their  earnestly  driving 
tlie  matter,  at  the  last  Precinct  meeting,  to  have  me  voted  out  of 
town  before  this  Council  assembled  ;  i.  e.  to  have  it  voted,  that 
the  people  desired  that  I  should  begone, — so  that  the  Council  might 
see  that  they  were  ripe.  But  I  trust  that  this  reverend  Council 
have  greater  wisdom,  than  to  entertain  the  same  notion  of  a  ripe- 
ness for  such  a  proceeding  ;  and  I  humbly  conceive  that  they  will 
see  it  to  be  indispensably  necessary,  that  first  the  utmost  endeavours 
be  used  to  bring  the  people  to  juster  views  and  a  better  temper, 
before  they  advise  to  any  steps  in  order  to  an  immediate  separa- 
tion. And  I  beseech  the  Council  to  use  their  utmost  and  most 
prudent  endeavours,  that,  if  finally  we  are  separated,  we  may  part 
with  one  another  fairly  and  peaceably. 

"  I  also  request  of  this  reverend  Council  that  they  would  do  me 
the  justice  in  their  Result, — not  merely  to  adiise  the  people  dis- 
junctively, either  to  read  my  book,  or  to  hear  my  reasons  from  the 
pulpit ; — ^but  to  give  it  as  their  opinion  that  /  have  a  right  to  preach, 
and  that,  if  I  do  preach,  the  people  are  obliged  to  hear  me.  I  hum- 
bly conceive,  that  this  will  be  no  more  than  the  case  requires,  for 
three  reasons : 

"1.  If  such  disjunctive  advice  be  left,  it  will  not  tend  so  much 
in  any  measure  to  ripen  our  affairs  for  an  issue ;  for  then  indeed 
they  will  neither  hear  me  preach,  nor  be  likely  to  read  my  book. 
It  will  be  said  that  the  number  of  copies  is  small.  The  disincli- 
nation is  great.  It  will  be  supposed  that  the  Council  do  not  wish 
a  very  strict  scrutiny,  whether  they  have  read  it  or  not.  The  whole 
matter  will  be  left  at  loose  ends,  and  in  great  uncertainty.  Thus 
it  will  tend  greatly  to  embarrass  our  affairs,  and  lengthen  out  our 
controversy. 

"  2.  My  people  complain,  many  of  them,  that  on  this  subject 
they  cannot  understand  me.  Now  if,  unawares,  I  have  spoken  to 
them  a  language  they  cannot  understand,  let  me  have  an  opportu- 
nity to  explain  myself.  Surely  it  will  not  be  proceeding  with 
christian  moderation  and  charity — to  say  at  once,  "  You  have  been 
mistaken  in  your  manner  of  pleading  your  cause  ;  you  have  spoken 
to  us  inadvertently,  so  that  we  have  wholly  misapprehended  your 
meaning ;  but  since  you  have  thus  failed  of  making  us  understand 
you,  your  mouth  shall  now  be  stopped,  and  we  will  give  you  no 
farther  opportunity  to  speak  for  yourself." 

'*  3.  I  ought,  before  I  leave  this  people,  to  whom  I  have  so  long 
stood  in  such  a  relarion,  to  have  an  opportunity  given  me,  to  leave 
with  them  a  testimony  for  myself,  in  that  matter  which  proves  so 
great  an  offence  to  them,   not  only  with  those  who  are  in  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  3G7 

Church,  but  with  others,  both  male  and  female,  to  whom  I  have 
stood  in  so  sacred  a  relation,  of  whom  it  can  never  be  expected, 
that  they  should  generally  read  my  pamphlet.  The  laws  of  nature, 
and  the  laws  of  Christ,  require  me  to  love  this  people,  to  whom  I  have 
been  so  related,  and  to  value  their  charity  and  esteem.  I  have 
reason  also  to  think,  that  there  are  many  of  my  spiritual  children, 
who  are  God's  dear  children,  in  this  congregation,  who  now  enter- 
tain hard  thoughts  on  account  of  my  opinion.  Now  I  ought  not  to 
be  driven  from  hence,  without  opportunity  to  exhibit  a  testimony 
for  myself  before  them,  and  so  with  the  people  at  large.  When  I 
have  done  so,  I  demand  nothing  of  them  but  an  impartial  hearing. 
I  desire  not  to  lord  it  over  their  consciences.  They  have  a  right 
to  judge  for  themselves,  and  may  use  what  means  they  please,  to 
see  the  strength  of  arguments  on  the  other  side,  by  reading  books, 
or  conversing  with  ministers  who  differ  from  me  in  judgment. 

"  I  humbly  trust  therefore,  that  this  reverend  Council  will  not 
fail  to  leave  beliind,  in  their  Result,  a  direct  and  full  expi'essian  of 
their  judgment  on  this  important  point. ^^ 

"  After  the  Agents  for  the  Church  had  replied  to  these  re- 
marks, the  Council  adjourned.  The  next  morning,  I  delivered  in 
to  the  Council  the  following  writing  : 

"I  the  subscriber  do  make  the  following  declaration  and  offer : — 
That  if  my  people,  being  so  advised  by  the  Council  of  Churches 
now  sitting,  w411  hear  me  deliver  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from 
the  pulpit,  and  consider  further  of  the  matter  in  controversy  be- 
tween me  and  them  until  the  spring,  when  it  shall  be  comfortable 
travelling,  laying  aside  all  public  agitation  until  then,  and  then  de- 
sire a  Council  of  Churches  in  order  to  bring  our  controversy  to  a 
final  issue ;  and  will  consent,  being  also  so  advised  by  this  Coun- 
cil, that  I  shall  have  an  equal  hand  in  the  choice  of  the  Council  widi 
them,  and  that  I  should  go  out  of  the  county  into  the  other  parts 
of  New-England  for  my  choice  ;  and  this  Council,  on  a  full  hear- 
ing and  thorough  consideration  of  our  case,  can  find  out  no  way  for 
a  composition  or  accommodation,  either  by  satisfying  my  con- 
science in  yielding  some  points  to  the  people,  or  by  making  them 
easy  in  some  things  in  a  compliance  with  me,  or  any  other  way 
which  the  Council  in  their  wisdom  may  devise ;  but  the  people 
shall,  after  all,  declare  their  unwillingness  that  I  should  be  their 
pastor ;  I  will  declare  it  before  the  Council  as  my  desire,  that  the 
people  should  be  left  entirely  at  their  liberty,  as  to  my  continuing 
their  pastor ;  and  will  move  it  to  them  to  gratify  the  people's  de- 
sire, in  dissolving  my  pastoral  relation  to  this  Church, — provided 
the  Precinct  will  first  engage  to  free  me  from  rates, — and  will,  the 
Council  so  advising,  resign  my  pastoral  office. — This  is  that,  to 
which  I  humbly  propose  and  desire  this  reverend  Council  to  ad- 


3v)8  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS- 

vise  this  people  to  consent;  withal  strongly  advising;,  that,  in  the 
mean  time,  quietness  and  peace  be  maintained,  and  jangling  agita- 
tions and  public  proceedings,  tending  to  enkindle  or  uphold  strife, 
be  laid  aside ;  and  that  the  Lord's  Supper  be  restored,  if  the  peo- 
ple can  find  it  in  their  hearts  freely  to  consent  to  it,  on  the  advice 
of  the  Council;  and  that  this  Council  also  endeavour  to  find  out  a 
way,  that  those,  who  are  able  and  willing  to  make  a  profession  of 
godliness,  may  be  admitted  into  the  Church,  in  a  way  consistent 
with  a  good  conscience  in  both  pastor  and  people ;  and  that  all 
parts  of  the  public  service  of  God  be  quietly,  steadily  and  regular- 
ly, upheld  and  attended. 

"Jonathan  Edwards. 
''JVorthampton,Dec.  27,  1749." 

"The  Committee  or  Agents  of  the  Church  were  allowed  some 
time  to  consider  of  this  proposal,  and  were  afterwards  heard  in 
their  objections  against  it. 

"  The  next  day,  Dec.  28,  the  Council  drew  up  and  declared  the 
following  Result." 

[A  blank  was  left  here,  for  the  insertion  of  the  Result  of  Coun- 
cil, but  it  was  not  filled.  I  have  sought  in  vain  for  a  copy  of  the 
Result  of  this  Advisory  Council;  and  have  been  able  to  ascertain, 
only,  that  theyi'ecommended. 

That  there  should  be  a  restoration  of  the  Sacrament  of  the 
Lord's  Supper ; 

That  Pastor  and  People  should  converse  freely  together,  about 
the  point  in  controversy; 

That  there  should  be  no  public  proceedings  of  any  kind  what- 
ever, relative  to  the  point  in  controversy;  and  that  they  also  ex- 
pressed the  opinion, 

That  the  Church  Committee  opposing  ]Mr.  Edwards'  delivering 
his  principles  from  the  pulpit,  was  one  probable  occasion  of  the 
great  uneasiness,  and  dissatisfaction,  which  had  arisen  between  the 
pastor  and  the  people.] 

"  Then  the  Council  adjourned  themselves  to  the  first  Wednesday 
in  February,  1750. 

"The  next  Sabbath,  Dec.  31,  I  publicly  read  the  Result  of  the 
Council  to  the  whole  congregation,  and  declared  a  readiness  on  my 
part,  to  comply  with  that  result ;  and  desired  the  Church  to  take 
the  subject  of  the  restoration  of  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Sup- 
per into  their  consideration  until  the  next  Sabbath,  when  I  propo- 
sed to  put  it  to  vote  in  the  Church,  Whether  the  Lord's  Supper  shall 
be  administered  the  Sabbath  following. 

"  The  next  Monday,  being  Jan.  1.  1750,  the  Precinct  met  again 
according  to  adjournment,  and  having  understood  that  the  Rev. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  3G9 

Peter  Clark  of  Salem  Village,  had  undertaken  to  wTite  an  Answer 
to  my  book  on  Qualifications  for  Communion,  they  determined  to 
write  to  him,  desiring  him  to  expedite  what  he  had  undertaken. 
They  also  chose  a  Committee  to  converse  with  me,  pursuant,  as  they 
supposed,  to  that  clause  of  the  result  of  Council,  wherein  they  ad- 
vise that  the  pastor  and  people  should  converse  freely  together, 
about  the  point  in  controversy.  The  Committee  chosen,  were 
Ebenezer  Pomroy,  Noah  Wright,  Dr.  IMather,  Roger  Clap,  In- 
crease Clark,  Deac.  Cook,  and  Ebenezer  Hunt.  The  Precinct 
meeting  adjourned  themselves  to  Monday,  Feb.  12. 

"Deac.  Cook  came  to  me  that  evening,  and  informed  me  of  the 
appointment  of  this  Committee,  and  of  their  design  of  coming  to 
converse  with  me,  the  Wednesday  following.  I  objected  against  it 
as  a  public  proceeding,  and  so  plainly  contrary  to  the  advice  of  the 
Council  ;  but  told  him  that  I  would  nevertheless  take  the  matter 
into  consideration,  until  the  next  evening,  when  I  would  send  him 
my  thoughts  and  determination  on  the  affair  in  WTiting.  Accord- 
ingly, the  next  evening  I  sent  him  the  following  letter  : 

"  To  Deacon  Noah  Cook,  in  Northampton. 

"On  mature  consideration  I  am  confirmed  in  the  same  mind, 
which  I  expressed  the  last  night,  concerning  the  Committee  chosen 
to  confer  with  me.  It  appears  to  me  altogether  of  the  nature  of  a 
public  proceeding,  with  respect  to  the  present  controversy.  The 
appointment  and  choice  of  the  Committee  was  a  public  proceed- 
ing. The  Committee  are  the  representatives  of  a  public  society. 
And  if  you  come  and  confer  with  me,  as  a  Committee  of  the  Pre- 
cint,  you  therein  act  in  a  public  capacity,  in  the  name  and  behiilf  of 
the  Precinct ;  and  all  from  beginning  to  end  will  be  a  public  pro- 
ceeding, and  so  plainly  contrary  to  the  advice  of  the  Council.  The 
appointed  inter\iew"  of  the  Committee  with  me  cannot  be  under- 
stood otherwise,  than  as  a  meedng  appointed  for  a  public  dispute ; 
for  though  the  whole  parish  will  not  be  actually  present,  yet  they 
will  be  present  by  their  representatives,  and  it  is  to  be  a  debate  or 
discourse  managed  in  behalf  of  the  whole.  The  Committee  are  to 
hear  my  arguments,  in  some  sort,  as  the  ear  of  the  society,  that  the 
whole  may  be  influenced  by  it ;  otherwise  1  do  not  see  hov/  they 
can,  in  hearing,  act  in  behalf  of  the  Precinct ;  and  if  they  do  not  act  in 
behalf  of  the  Precinct,  how  do  they  act  as  a  Committee  for  the  Pre- 
cinct. This  I  think  is  not  a  reasonable  way  of  proceeding,  for  the 
information  of  the  whole  parish,  not  tending  to  light  and  peace  but 
the  contrary,  and  contrary  to  the  express  words  of  tlie  Council's  ad- 
vice, and  disagreeable  to  the  plain  design  of  it — tending  to  super- 
sede and  set  aside  the  thing  at  wliich  they  aimed.  Therefore  I 
must  decline  conferring  with  such  a  body  of  men  together,   cliosen 

Vol.  t.  47 


370  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

as  a  Committee  of  the  Precinct ;  but  stand  ready  at  any  time  to 
confer  with  freedom  and  friendliness  with  each  of  these  brethren, 
or  any  others,  coming  in  a  private  capacity,  and  in  their  own  name 
o;ily. 

"I  am  your  friend  and  servant, 
"  for   Jesus'    sake, 

"Jonathan  Edwards. 
-'  JSm'ihamjJton,  Jan,  2,  1750." 


CHAPTER  XXI I. 

fddjourned  meeting  of  the  Preparatory  Council. — Remarks  of 
J\lr.  Edwards  on  the  question,  Whether  he  ought  not  to  go  out 
of  the  County,  in  the  choice  of  the  Final  Council. — Council  re- 
fuse to  express  their  opinion  on  this  point. — Mr.  Edwards^  Lee- 
tures  on  (Qualifications  for  Communion. — Attempted  interfer- 
ence of  neighbouring  Clergy. — Difficulties  relating  to  choice  of 
Final  Council. —  Choice  of  that  Council,  May  S. — Meeting  and 
Residt  of  that  Council,  June  19. — Protest  of  Minority. 

On  Wednesday,  Feb.  7,  1750,  the  Council  met  again,  and 
the  subject  of  the  pastor's  going  out  of  the  County,  in  the  choice  of 
his  part  of  the  Decisive  Council,  was  again  very  largely  debated 
before  them,  by  the  Pastor,  and  the  Committee  of  the  Church,  and 
also  by  some  private  members  of  the  Church.  jMr.  Edwards' 
remarks  upon  the  subject  were  as  follows  : 

"  If  I  should  attempt  to  prove  that  a  \dcinity  of  churches  have  no 
jurisdiction  over  particular  chm'ches  within  their  bounds,  established 
by  a  univ^ersal,  unalterable  rule,  which  ought  never  to  be  dispensed 
with,  in  any  case  whatever  ;  I  presume  this  Rev.  Council  would 
regard  the  attempt  as  wholly  impertinent — a  needless  burdening 
them  with  proofs  of  what  nobody  would  ever  dispute.  I  shall 
therefore  take  it  for  granted,  unless  it  shall  be  questioned,  that  the 
rule  of  confining  Councils  to  a  vicinity,  is  only  a  general  rule,  from 
which  exceptions  are  to  be  made  in  cases  especially  requirmg 
it.  Hence  the  only  question  is.  Whether  this  be  such  a  case  or 
not? 

"  In  order  to  determine  this  question  with  clearness  and  certainty, 
we  must,  as  I  observed  at  the  session  of  the  Council  in  December, 
previously  ascertain  what  will  be  the  business  of  the  proposed  Fu- 
ture Council.  The  business,  obviously  must  determine  the  quali- 
fications ;  and  if,  on  a  strict  comparison  of  business  and  qualifica- 
tions, it  be  found  that  a  different  Council  is  really  requisite,  from 
that  which  may  be  constituted  of  churches  of  the  vicinity  ;  then  it 
will  follow  that  a  different  Council  must  be  allow  ed,  and  cannot  be 
denied  ;  and  that,  whatever  may  be  said  of  any  customs  of  churches, 
or  of  any  parallel  customs  with  regard  to  civil  tribunals;  the  nature 
of  this  particular  case  must  be  looked  into,  and  that,  and  that  alone, 
must  determine  the  matter.  What  the  nature  of  the  case  requires, 
that  the  law  of  reason  and  justice  requires,  and  that  the  Law  of  God 
requires.  • 


372  '  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  If  I  may  be  allowed  to  recapitulate  very  briefly  some  of  the  re- 
marks then  made,  in  order  to  refresh  the  memories  of  the  Comicil, 
1  observe,  That  the  business  of  the  Future  Council  will  not  be,  to 
decide,  Wheiher  my  opinion,  On  the  Qualifications  for  Commun- 
ion, is  right  or  not  ? — because  we  know  the  opinion  and  practice  of 
every  man,  who  will  be  chosen,  before  he  comes.  Nor  will  it  be, 
Whether  »  shall  remain  the  minister  of  .'"^  oiihamjHon,  if  after  all 
proper  steps  are  taken  to  effect  an  accommodation,  the  people  still 
desire  my  dismission  ? — because,  vdien  that  shall  have  been  done,  I 
will  trouble  no  Council  any  farther,  than  barely  to  give  me  leave  to 
relinquish  my  pastoral  office.     But  their  business  will  be  to  decide, 

1,  Jlliether  they  ought  not  to  make  some  attempts  to  effect  an  accom- 
modation of  our  difficulties  ?  and,  if  this  be  decided  in  the  negative, 

2,  Whether  all  has  been  done  by  both  parties,  ivhich  justice  requires 
to  be  done,  previoifs  to  a  separation?  and,  if  this  be  decided  in  the 
affirmative,  to  state  in  their  result,  3,  Bliat  are  the  grounds  cf  my 
dismission;  how  far  I  am  innocent;  and  hoiv  far  I  may  be  recom- 
mended, as  deserving  future  employment  in  the  ministry.  If  this 
Rev.  Council  will  closely  consider  the  matter,  they  will  easily  see 
that  these  things  must  constitute  their  business. 

"  And  if  this  be  so,  the  question, — What  qualifications  does  this 
business  require  ? — amounts  to  simply  this. — Is  Impartiality,  as  to 
tlie  two  contending  parties,  a  qualification  absolutely  necessary  in 
those  who  are  to  judge  between  them  ? — To  determine  this,  let  each 
of  the  points,  which  must  be  submitted  to  the  Future  Council,  be 
viewed.  If  means  of  accommodation  are  to  be  used,  ought  not 
those,  who  are  to  act  as  mediators,  to  be  in  the  middle  between  the 
parties  to  be  reconciled.  If  they  are  to  judge  with  regard  to 
the  mutual  rights  and  claims  of  the  two  parties,  and  to  decide 
whether  each  has  done  all  that  the  other  may  fairly  require,  pre- 
vious to  a  separation ;  does  not  setthng  points  of  equity,  between 
two  parties  at  variance,  require  even  balances.  And  if  they  are 
to  pronounce  before  the  world,  on  the  conduct  of  the  pastor  in 
this  controversy,  as  well  as  on  his  general  character ;  may  he  not 
justly  demand  tliat  the  tribunal  wiiich  is  to  do  this  shall  be  impar- 
tial ? 

"  If  these  things  are  j^lain,  and  I  cannot  but  think  that  every 
person  of  sober  thought  will  oun  them  to  be  self-evident ;  then 
the  only  things  to  be  determined  are  these  two,  1,  What  consti- 
tutes an  essential  defect  of  impartiality  as  to  the  two  parties  in  this 
case?  2,  Whether  the  defect  can  be  supposed  to  belong  to  a  Coun- 
cil constituted  of  the  cliurches  in  this  vicinity  ? 

"  As  to  the  first  point,  it  must  obviously  be  admitted,  to  be  a 
radical  defect  in  the  impartiality  of  the  Council,  if  the  members  of 
it  are  all  on  one  side,  or  are  all  known  to  side  with  one  of  the  par- 
ties against  the  other,  on  the  main  })oint  in  controversy.  WJiat  can 
be  more  plain  than,  that  a  balance  cannot  be  even,  and  therefore 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  373 

cannot  be  fit  to  adjust  matters  of  equity  between  two  parties,  if  alj 
the  previous  weight  is  in  one  scale.  And  is  it  not  equally  evident 
that  a  Council,  who  are  all  on  one  side  in  the  controversy,  are  not 
in  the  middle  between  the  two  parties,  as  mediators  to  reconcile 
them.  And  since  a  Council  cannot  in  this  case  be  obtained,  that  is 
impartial  as  to  individuals,  because  all  the  members  are  chosen,  and 
chosen  with  reference  to  their  opinions ;  it  is  plain  that  the  consis- 
tory ought  to  be  so  constituted,  that  one  part  may  balance  the  other. 
If  we  cannot  find  a  balance,  which  has  no  previous  weight  in  either 
of  the  scales,  yet  surely  we  should  seek  one  which  has  not  all  the 
weights  in  one  scale,  but  equal  weights  in  both,  that  the  balance  may 
be  even. 

"  I  need  not  remark  again,  that  mankind  in  general,  both  the 
wise  and  unwise,  are  liable  to  the  strongest  prejudices  against  the 
persons  and  conduct  of  those  around  them,  who  differ  from  them 
in  matters  of  religion ;  that  this  is  as  true  with  regard  to  points  not 
fundamental,  as  with  regard  to  those  w^hich  are ;  that  it  is  especial- 
ly true,  when  the  controversy  is  at  the  height  of  agitation ;  that  it 
is  pre-eminently  true  with  regard  to  those,  who  are  the  movers  and 
managers  of  the  controversy  ;  and  that  nothing,  from  age  to  age, 
has  been  found  to  excite  prejudices  equally  strong  with  this. 
These  points  are  too  clear  to  admit  of  denial  or  doubt.  Hence,  if 
the  future  Council  be  all  on  one  side,  as  to  the  main  controversy 
between  me  and  my  people,  it  is  an  apparent  and  sensible  defect  of 
impartiality ;  and  of  course,  it  is  most  unrighteous  to  confine  the 
other  party  to  such  a  Council,  and  oblige  him  to  be  judged  by  them 
and  no  other. 

"  As  to  the  other  question.  Will  a  Council,  taken  wholly  from 
the  County,  have  this  defect  ? — it  is  a  fact  perfectly  known,  that 
the  ministers  and  churches  of  the  County  are  almost  universalh' 
against  me  on  the  point,  which  now  divides  me  and  my  people,  and 
makes  us  two  parties.  Perhaps  there  may  be  one  or  two  ministers 
who  are  partly  of  my  mind ;  but  then  their  churches  are  all  of  a 
contrary  mind,  and  on  the  same  side  with  my  people.  I  suppose 
that  there  is  not  more  than  one  minister  fully  of  my  mind,  with  re- 
spect to  the  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  and  not  one  church 
of  my  mind  with  regard  to  either  of  the  sacraments.  Of  course,  a 
Council  cannot  be  obtained  wholly  from  within  the  County,  with- 
out the  forementioned  essential  defect. 

"  It  having  been  thus  established,  as  I  humbly  conceive,  that  the 
future  Council  cannot  be  qualified  for  the  business  which  will  be 
laid  before  it,  unless  it  is  strictly  impartial ;  that  an  impartial  Coun- 
cil cannot  be  chosen,  unless  I  am  permitted  to  select  from  beyond 
the  limits  of  the  County  of  Hampshire  ;  and  that  to  deny  me  this 
liberty,  would  therefore  be  direct  and  palpable  injustice;  I  shall 
proceed  to  remark  on  some  of  the  objections  which  are  brought 
against  this  measure. 


o74  LIFE    OF    TRESIUENT    EDWARDS. 

"  It  was  urged  at  the  former  sitting  of  the  Council — "  That  if 
there  actually  is  a  jurisdiction  over  particular  churches  and  minis- 
ters, established  in  a  vicinity,  the  reason  alleged  cannot  be  a  suffi- 
cient reason  for  an  exception  ;  and  that,  if  there  is  no  such  juris- 
diction actually  established  by  agreement,  yet  if  there  ought  to  be, 
it  alters  not  the  case.  For,  if  it  ought  to  be  established,  we  may 
fairly  look  upon  it  as  really  established  in  the  law"  of  reason ;  and, 
if  so,  this  case  has  nothing  in  it  to  require  an  exception  from  such 
a  jurisdiction,  any  more  than  a  case  growing  out  of  any  other  error, 
fundamental  or  non-fundamental.  If  a  church  should  complain  of 
its  minister  for  turning  Arminian,  and  all  the  ministers  and  church- 
es of  the  vicinity  were  Calvinists,  it  is  said  he  ought  not  therefore 
to  be  allov/ed  to  go  from  the  vicinity,  to  get  half  of  the  Council  of 
his  own  opinion,  in  order  that  it  might  be  impartial." — In  answer  to 
this  objection,  I  would  observe, 

"  1.  That  in  order  to  judge  of  its  force,  the  business  of  the  fu- 
ture Council  must  be  kept  in  mind.  And  I  hope  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, that  the  business  of  the  Council  will  not  be,  to  try  me  with 
regard  to  my  opinion  respecting  the  quahfications  for  communion, 
to  find  me  guiky  or  not  2;uilty,  or  to  justify  or  condemn  tliat  opinion. 
The  fact,  that  a  difference  of  opinion,  on  this  point,  subsists  between 
the  pastor  and  church,  will  indeed  be  taken  into  consideration,  as 
w^ell  as  the  question,  whether  on  the  whole  it  is  best  that  we 
should  be  separated  :  but  doubtless  they  would  regard  it  as  useless 
and  impertinent,  to  try  me  on  the  question.  Whether  this  opinion  is 
Heresy  or  not  ? — In  such  a  case,  they  would  be  called  to  try  a 
minister  as  a  delinquent ;  to  examine  the  fact ;  and  openly  to  cen- 
sure the  doctrine. 

•  ''  If  this  were  the  business  of  the  Council,  it  might  make  a  great 
difference  as  to  the  manner  in  which  it  ought  to  be  constituted  ;  for 
the  case  of  such  a  minister  would  be  like  the  case  of  a  person  ac- 
cused of  some  crime  for  which  he  was  to  be  tried.  In  such  a  case 
ihe  impartiality  requiske  is  impartiality  as  to  ihefact,  but  not  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  crime.  Thus,  if  a  man  were  accused  of  drunk- 
enness, the  judges  ought  to  be  strictly  impartial  as  to  the  question, 
—  Mliether  he  was  guilty  of  the  Fact?  but  not  as  to  the  question, 
Whether  drunkenness  he  a  Crime  ?  The  crime  they  ought  to  ab- 
hor, and  such  abhorrence  renders  them  not  the  worse  but  the  bet- 
ter judges.  Virtue  of  course  prejudices  men  against  vice;  and  the 
more  virtuous  judges  are,  and  the  more  zealously  opposed  to  vice, 
the  fitter  are  they  to  be  judges  of  vicious  persons.  Hence  in  such 
a  case,  it  would  be  ridiculous  for  the  accused  to  insist  that  half  his 
judges  should  be  men  who  approved  of  drunkenness — and  tliat, 
whether  there  were  any  established  jurisdiction  or  not.  And  it 
would  not  alter  the  case,  whether  it  were  proposed  that  his  judges 
sliould  be  of  the  vicinity,  or  brought  from  some  other  continent. 
From  whatever  places  collected,  they  ought  all  in  strict  justice  te 


LIFE    OF    PRESTftENT    EDWARBS.  375 

be  men,  who  had  an   entire  abhorrence  of  the   crime  of  drunken- 
ness. 

"  The  seeming  force  of  this  objection,  arises  from  a  confusion  of 
thought  in  those  who  urge  it,  in  losing  sight  of  the  real  point  in 
question,  in  forgetting  the  proper  business  of  the  future  Council, 
and  inadvertently  supposing  it  to  be  hke  that  of  judges  who  are 
called  to  try  a  criminal.  The  question  of  Fact,  /»  hetfier  I  hold  a 
given  opinion  ? — will  not  come  up  before  them  :  It  is  admitted  be- 
forehand. Neither  will  the  question,  IMiether  that  opinion  he 
Heresy  ? — ^no  man  pretends  it.  That  opinion  will  not  be  presented 
to  them  as  a  crime  or  fault  to  be  judged  and  punished  ;  but  merely 
as  the  ground  of  an  alleged  difference  of  opinion  between  pastor 
and  people.  It  is  not  on  the  merits  of  the  cause,  i.  e.  of  my  opinion, 
that  they  will  decide,  but  on  the  case  of  difficult}-,  growing  out  of  a 
difference  between  that  opinion  and  the  opinion  of  my  people  ; 
and,  as  was  observed  before,  they  will  be  called  to  act  as  mediators 
between  the  disagreeing  parties,  to  settle  matters  of  equity  between 
them,  and  to  judge  of  the  character  and  conduct  of  the  pastor  with 
regard  to  the  controversy.  And  with  regard  to  all  these  points,  it 
has  been  shown,  that  to  be  on  either  side,  has  a  most  obvious  and 
powerful  tendency  to  bias  the  mind  against  the  other. 

"  That  the  seeming  force  of  this  objection,  in  the  minds  of  those 
who  urge  it,  arises  from  losing  sight  of  the  true  state  of  the  case, 
Bnd  the  proper  business  of  the  Council,  is  obvious  from  the  very 
example  adduced  Dy  way  of  illustration,  viz.  That  in  a  civil  action, 
it  is  no  valid  objection  against  the  justices  of  the  vicinity,  who  have 
an  established  jurisdiction,  that  their  opinion  on  a  given  point  of 
law  is  already  knov.-n  : — because  in  the  present  case,  the  business 
of  the  future  Council  will  not  be,  to  try  the  merits  of  the  cause,  or 
to  judge  whether  my  opinion  be  agreeable  to  the  Law,  that  is,  the 
word  of  God,  or  not.  And  with  respect  to  this  example,  I  would 
further  observe  the  following  things. 

"  1.  If  it  vvcre  really  so,  that  the  proposed  Council  were  to 
judge  the  very  merits  of  m)'  cause,  that  is,  the  soundness  of  my 
opinion,  the  instance  adduced  would  not  be  at  all  parallel,  or  of  any 
force  in  the  present  argument.  Let  the  case  be  put  thus  :  Sup- 
pose a  man  has  done  something  towards  a  given  individual,  which 
many  regard  as  a  breach  of  law,  exposing  him  to  be  disfranchised  ; 
and  the  question  turns  on  a  point  of  law,  which  has  long  been  mat- 
ter of  warm  controversy  among  judges  and  jurists ;  and  suppose 
there  is  no  stated  ti'ibunal,  but  it  is  the  custom  of  the  country,  in 
cases  of  controversy,  for  each  party  to  choose  half  of  the  judges ; 
and  it  is  known  that  there  are  as  many  jurists  on  one  side,  in  the 
controverted  point  of  law,  as  on  the  other ;  and  there  is  no  appeal 
from  the  tribunal  chosen,  but  their  judgment  will  be  final ; — ^AVould 
it  not  be  reasonable  in  this  case,  if  one  party  chose  half  of  the 
judges  favourable  to  his  side  of  the  question,  that  the  other  should 


o70  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

choose  the  other  half  favourable  to  his  side  ;  and  that,  although  all 
the  jurists  of  the  immediate  vicinity  were  opposed  to  him.  If  one 
party  had  actually  chosen  his  half  of  the  judges  who  were  all  on 
his  side,  would  it  not  be  mere  mockery  to  tell  the  other  party  that 
he  also  might  have  the  liberty  of  choosing  half  of  the  judges,  as  well 
as  his  adversary,  but  only  he  must  choose  all  of  them  from  the  side 
which  were  opposed  to  him.  Now  this  is  precisely  my  case. 
Councils  are  elective,  and  to  be  appointed  by  joint  or  mutual  choice, 
according  to  uniform  practice.  This  has  been  the  practice  of  both 
parts  of  this  county.  It  was  pursued  in  the  lower  part  of  the  coun- 
t}',  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Allis ;  and  in  the  upper  part  of  the  county, 
in  the  case  of  j\h*.  Rawson,  in  the  Council  of  May  3,  1737,  of 
which  I  was  the  Scribe,  and  have  the  original  papers  now  by  me, 
as  well  as  in  the  subsequent  Council  convened  at  the  same  place. 
My  people  too,  do  not  pretend  that  any  stated  Consistory  exists,  or 
that  the  Council  is  not  to  be  elective.  They  offer  me  a  choice  of 
one  half  of  the  Council,  but  only  would  confine  me  to  Churches 
and  ministers  of  their  opinion. 

"  2.  In  civil  affairs,  appeals  are  allowed  from  the  justices  of  the 
comity,  to  others,  who  come  from  a  distance,  appointed  without  any 
regard  to  vicinity ;  and  the  determination  of  those  more  remote 
judges  supersedes  and  sets  aside  that  of  the  judges  from  the  vicin- 
ity. Indeed,  many  important  cases  are  carried  directly  to  those 
more  distant  judges,  without  suffering  the  judges  from  the  vicinity 
to  meddle  with  them,  any  further  than  to  refer  them  to  the  judg- 
ment of  the  distant  judges ;  and  that  too,  on  account  of  the  great 
importance  of  the  case.  And  so  it  would  be  here,  in  our  ecclesi- 
astical affairs,  if  we  had  regular  inferior  and  superior  tribunals,  like 
those  of  Scotland. 

"  3.  Difference  of  opinion  on  a  mere  point  of  law,  has  very  little 
tendency  to  prejudice  the  mind  against  the  persons  and  conduct  of 
others,  compared  with  difference  of  opinion  in  matters  of  religion. 
^No  one  will  dispute  the  fact,  that  the  latter  has  in  all  ages  excited 
the  deepest  prejudices  in  mankind,  against  each  other.  But  who 
ever  heard  of  such  prejudices  and  alienations  in  individuals,  in  par- 
ties, and  in  nations,  merely  because  they  differed  in  opinion  on  a 
point  of  law. 

"  4.  Civil  tribunals  are  not  appointed  to  act  the  part  of  media- 
tors betw^een  contenchng  parties ;  except  in  cases  of  arbitration,  in 
which  each  party  has  equal  hberty  of  choice.  Their  office  is  to  see 
that  the  laws  be  executed  ;  and  there  is  not  therefore  the  same  ne- 
cessity that  there  should  be  some  of  the  judges  on  each  side,  as  in 
xhe  present  case. 

"  But  to  return  to  the  objection  itself.  It  is  asked.  If  a  minister 
should  be  complained  of  by  his  people,  for  embracing  Arianism,  or 
any  other  heresv,  or  for  turning  to  another  denomination,  for  exam- 
ple to  the  Church  of  England  ;  and  a  Council  should  be  required  t© 


LIFE    OY    PRESIDENT    EDWATIDS.  o77 

adjust  the  difRculty ;  why  miglit  he  not  in  such  a  case,  as  well  as 
in  the  present,  insist  on  tb.e  hherty  of  going  out  of  the  county,  to 
get  half  of  the  Council  who  embraced  the  same  heresy,  or  who 
belonged  to  the  Church  of  England,  that  they  might  be  impartial  ? 
To  tliis  I  answer, 

"  1.  In  such  a  case,  the  Council  would  not  come  together  to 
consider  the  question.  Whether  the  individual,  if  he  had  embraced 
the  alleged  heresy,  or  had  changed  to  another  denomination,  might 
be  lawfully  continued  as  the  minister  of  a  Congregational  Church  ? 
This  point  is  settled  before  hand.  They  would  come  simply  to 
find.  Whether  the  charge  against  him  was  true,  or  false  ?  Hence  I 
suppose,  that  the  following  will  be  found,  on  the  most  careful  en- 
quiry, to  be  the  reasons,  and  the  only  reasons,  why  he  could  not 
claim  to  have  some  of  the  judges  of  his  ow^n  side. 

"  (1.)  Because,  in  the  case  of  acknowledged  Heresy,  those  who 
are  on  his  side  are  not  fit  to  be  members  of  the  Christian  Church. 
Fundamental  errors  are  scandalous ;  and  the  Church  cannot  there- 
fore, consistently  with  their  own  profession,  call  such,  as  constituent 
members  of  a  Christian  Council,  and  leave  their  ecclesiastical  af- 
fairs with  those  who  embrace  them.  For  they,  who  are  not  duly 
qualified  to  be  members  of  the  Christian  Church,  cannot  be  fit 
members  of  a  Christian  Council,  to  direct  and  manage  the  affairs 
of  the  Christian  Church.     Or, 

"  (2.)  Because  in  the  case  of  turning  to  a  different  denomina- 
tion, that  of  the  Episcopalians,  or  the  Anabaptists,  the  individual  is 
now  statedly  of  a  different  communion.  For,  although  christians  of 
these  denominations  may  occasionally  and  transiently  join  with 
Presbyterians  and  Congregationalists  in  some  parts  of  worship  ;  yet, 
as  to  what  is  stated,  there  is  a  division  openly  estabhshed.  It  is  a 
point  perfectly  settled,  that,  as  to  their  stated  worship,  and  their  ec- 
clesiastical proceedings,  they  must  act  apart.  And  there  would  be 
an  obvious  inconsistency  in  a  Church  employing  those,  who  are  al- 
ready of  a  distinct  sect,  and  have  no  ecclesiastical  connexion  with 
them,  to  order  and  settle  their  ecclesiastical  affairs. 

"  These  I  suppose  to  be  the  only  reasons,  why  it  is  not  proper 
that  a  minister,  who  embraces  heresy,  or  joins  another  denomina- 
tion, cannot  choose  from  his  ov\ti  side  half  of  the  Council;  which  is 
convened,  not  to  judge  of  his  doctrines,  or  to  mediate,  or  do  justice 
between  the  parties,  but  to  investigate  an  alleged  fact,  and  on  find- 
ing it,  to  vacate  the  office  ;  unless,  in  such  a  case  as  that  of  embra- 
cing Popery,  there  might  be  this  additional  reason  against  Papists 
being  allowed  to  sit  on  the  Council, — That  Papists  are  bound  to 
injure,  persecute  and  destroy  the  Protestant  Church,  as  much  as 
in  them  lies ;  and  we  cannot  be  bound  to  entrust  our  affairs  to 
those,  whose  avowed  design  it  is,  before  hand,  to  injure  and  des- 
troy us. 

"  2.  The  reason,  why  a  minister  in  such  a  case  may  not  go  out 

Vol.  I.  48 


378  '     I.IVE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  the  vicinit}',  to  get  half  of  the  Council  of  his  own  side,  is,  not 
the  existence  of  any  established  jurisdiction,  or  of  any  established 
rule  respecting  the  vicinity,  or  the  county,  but  of  a  totally  different 
nature  ;  as  will  appear  from  a  slight  examination.  Suppose  a  min- 
ister settled  over  an  orthodox  Church  to  turn  Arlan,  and  all  the 
Churches  and  ministers  of  the  vicinity  to  be  professed  Arians ; 
it  is  admitted,  not  only  that  the  Church  are  not  bound  to  the  vicin- 
ity, but  that  the  minister  has  no  right  to  choose  from  it,  because  the 
vicinity  are  all  unfit  to  be  of  any  Council.  So  if  he  should  turn 
Episcopalian,  and  all  the  vicinity  are  Episcopalians ;  it  is  a  point 
conceded,  that  the  Church  is  not  limited  to  the  vicinity,  and  that 
the  minister  cannot  choose  a  single  member  of  the  Council  from 
the  vicinity.  Vicinity,  therefore,  makes  no  alteration  in  these 
cases ;  which  demonstrates  the  objection  to  be  wholly  without 
force ;  for  it  plainly  shows,  that  it  is  not  any  established  right  in 
the  vicinity,  which  is  regarded  in  the  cases  alleged.  On  the  con- 
trary, it  is  the  nature  of  the  case  in  itself  considered,  and  that  alone, 
which  governs  in  this  matter,  and  sets  aside  all  considerations  of 
vicinity ;  which  is  the  very  point  that  I  have  asserted  and  urged. 
For  I  have  insisted,  all  along,  that  the  nature  of  this  case,  as  it  is 
in  itself,  must  be  considered;  and  what  that  demands,  must  be  al- 
lowed as  wholly  paramount  to  the  bare  circumstance  of  neighbour- 
hood. So  that  this  objection,  carefully  examined,  oversets  the 
posidon  it  is  brought  to  prove,  and  establishes  and  demonstrates 
the  grand  point  on  which  I  insist. 

"  3.  It  is  the  Natural  Right  of  the  people,  and  their  Liberty  of 
conscience,  and  not  Vicinity,  which  governs  in  the  instances  alle- 
ged. But  in  the  present  case,  as  it  is  not  an  established  jurisdic- 
tion in  the  vicinity,  so  it  is  not  the  rights  of  conscience,  which  should 
confine  me  to  the  county  ;  and  therefore  nothing  at  all.  It  can- 
not be  the  rights  of  conscience,  w"hich  should  confine  me  ;  for  it  is  as 
much  against  the  rights  of  conscience  for  me  to  choose  ministers 
of  my  own  opinion  in  the  county,  as  out  of  it.  The  thing,  which 
invades  the  rights  of  conscience,  if  they  are  invaded  at  all,  is  not 
the  circumstance  of  nearness,  or  remoteness,  but  my  ha\ing  a 
part  of  the  Council  of  my  opinion,  whether  brought  from  the  vi- 
cinity or  elsewhere.  But  it  has  never  been  disputed  or  question- 
ed, that  I  have  a  right  to  choose  half  of  the  ministers  and  churches 
of  my  opinion,  if  I  can  find  so  many  within  the  county.  And  my 
people  have  urged  that  some  of  the  ministers  in  the  county  are  of 
my  opinion,  and  that  I  may  choose  them  as  far  as  they  go  ;  though 
I  must  not  go  out  of  the  county.  Now  let  us  turn  the  tables 
and  suppose  that  all  the  churches  and  ministers  in  the  county 
were  of  my  opinion  ;  would  I  not  have  liberty  to  choose  my  half 
of  the  Council  from  the  vicinity,  any  rights  of  conscience  in  the 
people  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding  ?  Certainly  all,  who  would 
allow  me  any  liberty  of  choice  at  all,  must  admit  this.     So  that  it 


LIFE    OF    PRESlDiCN'T    EDWAKDS.  379 

is  in  effect  granted,  that  it  is  neither  any  right  of  jurisdiction  in  the 
vicinity,  nor  any  right  of  conscience  in  my  people,  which  ought  to 
confine  me  to  the  limits  of  the  county  in  my  choice.  And  what 
then,  I  ask,  beside  these  two  things  can  be  conceived  of,  which 
ought  thus  to  confine  me  ? — I  am  not  aware  of  any  fallacy  in  this 
reasoning,  and  I  wish  it  to  be  examined  to  the  bottom. 

"  4.  If  there  be  any  such  thing  as  an  Established  Jurisdiction  in 
the  churches  of  the  vicinity,  either  by  argument,  or  the  word  of 
God,  or  the  nature  of  things  ;  then  it  will  follow  that  all  our  eccle- 
siastical judicatories  must  be  stated,  and  not  elective.  For  if  there 
be  a  settled  power  or  right  of  jurisdiction,  then  the  subject  of  this 
power,  or  the  body  in  w^hich  it  inheres,  is  also  settled.  If  it  be  set- 
tled at  all,  it  is  settled  some  where,  or  in  some  subject ;  and  that 
subject  of  course  is  not  left  at  loose  ends,  to  be  determined  from 
time  to  time  by  the  choice  of  the  parties  concerned.  But  such  an 
established  jurisdiction  as  this,  has  not  been  pretended  nor  acted 
upon,  either  by  this  church,  or  by  any  of  the  neighbouring  church- 
es or  ministers ;  but  the  churches  and  ministers  of  this  neighbour- 
hood have  proceeded  on  the  contrary  principle,  very  lately  in  various 
instances ;  for  they  have  acted  in  Councils  convoked  by  election 
without  an  objection,  or  even  an  intimation  that  any  established  ju- 
dicatory of  the  neighbourhood  ought  to  have  been  convoked. 
Why  then  should  any  such  establishment  be  first  mentioned  and 
insisted  on  in  my  case;  where,  as  we  have  seen,  it  works  the  gross- 
est injustice  ?  That  usually  it  is  convenient  and  proper  that  Coun- 
cils should  be  of  the  neighbourhood,  I  freely  acknowledge ;  but 
tliat  there  has  been  any  such  uniform  usage,  as  establishes  the  right 
now  for  the  first  time  pretended,  I  utterly  deny ;  and  from  those 
who  assert  it,  I  unhesitatingly  demand  the  evidence.  No  such 
established  jurisdiction, — established  either  by  agreement,  or  cus- 
tom, or  the  law  of  God,  or  the  law  of  reason, — was  ever  main- 
tained, either  in  our  day,  or  the  days  of  our  fathers.  In  the  days 
of  our  predecessors  in  the  ministry  in  this  county,  nothing  like  it 
was  known  ;  for  Mr.  Stoddard,  and  Mr.  Williams  of  Hatfield  for- 
merly went,  when  invited,  to  a  Council  at  Norwich  in  Connecticut, 
and,  if  I  mistake  not,  to  another  Council  at  Lebanon  ;  which  sure- 
ly they  would  not  have  done,  if  they  had  thought  the  law  of  God 
and  nature  setded  such  an  establishment  in  vicinities.  And  if  any 
such  thing  be  now  insisted  on,  in  order  to  limit  me  to  the  vicinity,  it 
will  in  fact  be  a  new  rule,  unheard  of  until  now,  invented  for  my 
case,  to  deprive  me  of  my  plain  right, — in  a  case,  which  has  much 
more  that  is  peculiar  to  require  an  exception  from  such  a  rule,  than 
other  cases  in  which  it  has  never  been  pretended. 

"  If  it  should  be  insisted,  that  the  Council  ought  not  to  be  elec- 
tive at  all ;  but  that  we  should  take  the  churches  as  they  come  ;  or 
that  we  should  take  the  whole  county  ;— though  this  is  a  point  not 
referred  to  this  Council,— I  observe,  that  it  will  be  the  first  instance 


360  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAKDS. 

of  objecting  to  an  election,  where  the  question  has  been  the  dis- 
mission of  a  minister,  certainly  during  the  present  generation,  and. 
as  I  suppose,  since  the  county  was  formed.  In  the  case  of  Mr. 
Allis,  the  Council  was  by  joint  choice,  as  was  that  in  the  case  of 
Mr.  Rowson.  In  the  latter,  of  which  I  was  the  scribe,  the  ques- 
tion was,  Whether  ]\Ir.  R.  was  qualified  for  the  work  of  the  min- 
istry as  to  his  learning,  his  orthodoxy  and  his  morals  ;  the  Council 
w^as  called  by  mutual  election  ;  Mr.  Williams  of  Hatfield,  and  Mr. 
Chauncey,  were  members  ;  and  no  person  thought  of  objecting 
against  the  mode  of  convocation  as  irregular  or  improper.  In  tlie 
second  Council,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Rowson,  the  churches  of  the 
Association  were  indeed  convoked  ;  yet  it  was  by  a  free  mutual 
agreement  on  prudential  considerations  merely,  and  not  with  refe- 
rence to  any  supposed  rule  binding  them  to  it ;  as  I  know  from  a 
particular  and  full  enquiry.  Elective  Councils  and  not  Stated 
ones,  have  hitherto  been  made  use  of  in  all  parts  of  the  county, 
both  in  settling,  and  in  unsettling,  ministers.  Very  latel)^,  Mr. 
Webster  was  settled  in  the  upper  part  of  the  county,  by  an  elective 
Council ;  and  the  election  was  not  confined  to  the  county,  for  only 
two  or  three  were  taken  from  this  county  to  join  others  from  abroad  ; 
although  it  was  known  beforehand  that  it  was  a  matter  of  dispute 
whether  he  ought  to  be  settled.  Hence  most  evidently,  if  it  be 
now^  insisted  on  as  a  rule,  that  the  members  of  a  Council  must  be 
of  the  county  ;  it  will  be  a  new  I'ule  introduced  for  my  sake. 

"  And  if  my  church  should  now  insist  upon  it,  which  they  have 
never  yet  done,  that  we  should  convoke  a  Council  of  all  the  chur- 
ches of  the  county,  without  distinction,  it  would  be  peculiarly  inju- 
rious in  my  case,  not  only  because  they  embrace  the  opposite  opin- 
ion to  mine  in  the  present  controversy,  but  because  it  is  well  known 
that  numbers  of  them  have  manifested  a  particular  dislike  of  me  : — 
some,  on  account  of  the  supposed  rigidness  of  my  Calvinism  ; 
some,  a  dislike  more  directly  personal,  in  consequence  of  my  dis- 
approving of  their  settlement ;  and  some,  in  consequence  of  the 
disputes  which  have  arisen,  respecting  the  late  religious  excitement 
throughout  New-England.  These  dislikes  I  do  not  wish  to  re\ave 
and  establish,  by  being  obliged  to  object  against  them  by  name,  as 
improper  members  of  a  Council  in  my  case.  Still  such  things  may 
most  reasonably  be  considered  in  the  present  affair. 

"  With  regard  to  the  objection, — That  this  Church,  thirty-five 
years  ago,  voted  to  be  subject  to  a  Council  of  the  churches  of  the 
County; — if  it  has  any  seeming  force,  I  desire  that  it  may  be 
brought  to  the  test  of  an  exact  enquiry,  in  order  to  determine 
whether  it  is  now  obligatory  on  the  church  of  the  present  genera- 
tion, or  whether  it  is  null  and  void.  It  is  certainly  one  or  the  other. 
It  is  either  in  force  for  the  existing  pastor  and  members,  or  it  is  not. 
It  is  either  alive,  or  dead.  If  it  be  alive  and  in  force,  then  the 
whole  of  it  is  alive  ;  but  if  it  be  not  alive,  then  it  is  dead  as  to  every 


LIFE    OF    PKESIDENT    EDWARDS.  381 

part  of  it ;  and  we  are  obliged  to  observe  none  of  its  premises,  ex- 
cept as  the  laws  of  God  and  nature,  independently  of  that  vote, 
bind  us  to  observe  them.     Now  the  question, —  Whether  that  vote 
is  dead  or  alive  ? — is  easily  resolved  ;  and  depends  on  the  resolu- 
tion of  another  question,  viz.    Whether,  on  Protestant  principles, 
the  determination  of  ancestors,    as  to  matters  of  religion  and  the 
worship  of  God,  hinds  future  generations,  without  their  consent, 
either  express  or  implied  ? — The  present  members  of  this  Church, 
at  least  nine  out  of  ten,  are  a  new  generation.     As  to  any  express 
confirmation  of  that  vote,  it  is  notorious  that  there  has  been  no  such 
thing.     As  to  any  implied  confirmation  of  it,  if  there  has  been  any, 
it  must  have  been  by  conforming  to  it  in  practice.     But  this,  to  my 
knowledge,  has  not  been  done  by  the  present  church  of  Northamp- 
ton.    Since  I  have  been  their  pastor,  they  have  uniformly,  in  their 
practice,  implicitly  rejected  and  annulled  it ;  and  that  not  merely 
in  circumstantials,  but  in  the  substance  and  main  scope  of  it.     The 
thing  mentioned  in  the  vote  is  a  Council  of   Churches  and  not  of 
Ministers.     The  first  Association  of  Ministers  in  this  county,  was 
formed  some  time  after  my  settlement.     Yet  this  church  never 
convoked  a  Council  of  Churches,  in  this  generation,  until  now. — 
The  main  design  of  that  vote,  too,  was  to  have  a  Stated  Judicatory, 
and  not  an  Elective  Council,  according  to  the  Presbyterian  princi- 
ples of  Mr.  Stoddard  ;  yet  this  main  design  has  never  been  regard- 
ed, but  wholly  counteracted.     So  that  it  is  evident  to  a  demonstra- 
tion, that  this  church  now  has  no  such  constitution,  and  that  the  an- 
cient vote  is  in  fact  dead.     The  neighbouring  ministers  and  church- 
es, also,  have  customarily   neglected  and  counteracted  that  old 
argument  of  some  of  our  forefathers. — If  it  is  now  held  to  bind  this 
church,  it  will  be  the  first  time  during  the  present  generation.     It 
will  be  re\aved  out  of  the  dust  purely  for  my  sake,  after  it  has  been 
long  dead  and  buried;  which  will  be  tantamount  to  making  a  con- 
stitution to  meet  my  individual  case.     If  that  vote  be  really  no  es- 
tabhshment  for  us,  then  I  am  bound  by  no  part  of  it ;  and,  if  so,  no 
argument  ought  to  be  drawn  from  it  with  regard  to  any  thing  eitlier 
less  or  more  pertaining  to  the  present  case. 

"  It  is  objected.  That  the  present  Council  can  have  no  reference 
to  any  supposed  business  of  the  future  Council,  except  that  men- 
tioned in  the  votes  of  the  church — to  judge  whether  pastor  and 
people  shall  be  separated  ; — and  that  they  are  simply  to  determine 
what  sort  of  Council  is  proper  to  do  that  business.  To  this  I  an- 
swer, 

"  1.  The  business,  expressly  mentioned  in  the  Vote,  will  not 
depend  on  judging  the  correctness  of  my  opinion  on  the  Qualifica- 
tions for  communion ;  but  on  judgment  of  the  rights  of  the  peo- 
ple as  to  liberty  of  conscience,  and  of  the  rights  of  the  pastor  as  to 
what  he  can  fairly  demand  of  the  people  ;  and  so  will  consist  in 
settling  points  of  justice  between  the  parties. 


S&2  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"2.  The  business,  expressly  mentioned  in  the  vote,  does  cer- 
tainly imply  what  is  necessarily  connected  with  it,  considering  the 
state  of  the  case ;  and  so  must  therefore  be  considered  by  this 
Council  as  implied  in  that  business.  Considered  thus,  it  includes 
all  the  three  things,  which  w^ere  first  mentioned.  If  a  surgeon  is 
sent  for  to  judge,  whether  a  limb  shall  be  amputated,  the  message 
implies  that  he  is  to  judge.  Whether  amputation  may  not  be  dis- 
pensed with  ;  if  not,  Whether  it  shall  take  place  immediately  or  be 
postponed  ;  and  if  so.  In  what  manner  it  is  to  be  done,  with  the 
least  injury.  In  the  same  manner,  the  expression  in  the  vote  of  the 
church  cannot  be  understood,  to  limit  the  business  of  the  decisive 
Council,  any  further  than  to  their  doing  wiiat  is  proper  for  a  Coun- 
cil to  do,  which  is  called  on  the  business  expressed  in  the  vote. 

"  It  is  objected  that,  if  diversity  of  religious  sentiment,  on  ac- 
count of  the  prejudices  which  it  usually  occasions,  disqualifies  men 
from  being  judges  in  an  Ecclesiastical  controversy,  in  the  case  of 
those  who  differ  from  them,  then  it  also  disqualifies  them  from 
being  judges  in  a  Civil  controversy  ;  and  of  course,  that  the  judges 
of  our  courts  in  New  England,  being  chiefly  Congregationalists, 
would  be  improper  judges  in  any  case  where  either  of  the  parties 
w^as  an  EpiscopaKan,  an  Anabaptist  or  a  Quaker ;  and  that  the  jus- 
tices in  England,  being  all  of  the  Church  of  England,  would  be 
improper  judges  of  Dissenters. 

"  Answer.  If  there  were  no  Judicatories  in  the  nation,  but 
merely  justices  commissioned  to  be  convoked  for  each  cause,  by 
the  election  of  the  parties,  and  there  were  as  many  lawful  justices 
on  one  side  as  on  the  other ;  it  would  obviously  be  most  just  for 
one  party  to  be  allowed  to  chose  as  many  on  his  side,  as  the  other 
on  his ; — especially  if  the  controversy  were  of  a  religious  nature, 
and  the  conduct  to  be  judged  of,  had  reference  to  that  very  ques- 
tion in  which  the  judges  differed  from  each  other.  For  example, 
suppose  the  Test- Act  were  taken  off  in  England,  and  half  of  the 
justices  w^ere  Dissenters,  and  in  all  controversies  the  common  law 
of  the  nation  gave  each  party  the  right  of  choosing  one  half  of  his 
judges;  and  suppose  that  a  controversy  arises  between  an  Episco- 
pahan  and  a  Dissenter,  concerning  the  Dissenter's  turning  Dissen- 
ter, and  writing  in  defence  of  Dissenters,  and  endeavouring  to  pro- 
pagate Dissent,  and  that  the  point  to  be  judged  of  is  the  conduct  of 
the  two  parties  in  the  management  of  this  controversy,  and  the 
Episcopalian  has  chosen  half  of  the  judges,  who  are  on  his  side ; 
would  it  not  be  equitable  that  the  Dissenter  should  choose  the  otlier 
lialf  of  liis  side  :  especially  if  a  part  of  the  business  of  the  judges 
was  to  act  the  part  of  mediators. — I  readily  admit  that,  in  deciding 
religious  controversies,  the  judges  actually  employed  have,  in  point 
of  fact,  been  usually  all  on  one  side  ;  and  the  well-known  effect  has 
been  the  grossest  unrighteousness,  and  the  most  violent  persecution. 
This  has  been  true  in  Romish,  and  Lutheran,  countries,  as  well  as 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  383 

in  England,  and  Scotland,  and  almost  every  where,  as  every  one 
acknowledges. 

"  Two  or  three  of  the  objections,  touched  npon  at  the  former 
sitting  of  the  Council,  deserve  some  additional  comments. 

"  It  was  objected  that,  on  this  plan.  There  can  he  no  defence 
against  error,  because  a  minister  can  find  some  who  will  justify  his 
opinions-;  as  I  am  said  to  have  asserted  in  my  Remarks  on  the 
Springfield  controversy.     To  this  I  reply 

"1.  In  this  objection,  the  actual  state  of  the  present  case  is 
wholly  forgotten  ;  for,  as  has  been  often  observed,  the  Council  will 
not  meet  either  to  justify,  or  to  condemn,  my  opinion,  whether  it  be 
truth  or  error. 

"2.  What  I  assert,  in  my  remarks  on  that  controversy,  is  merely 
this, — That,  if  one  party  is  allowed  to  choose  all  his  own  judges, 
there  can  be  no  defence  against  error.  And  I  say  the  same  now  ; 
and  it  is  very  true,  that  if  one  party  has  all  the  judges  on  his  side, 
there  can  be  no  defence  for  the  other  party,  against  error,  or  injus- 
tice, or  any  thnig  else  that  is  bad,  because  such  a  Council  must  of 
course  be  partial.  What  I  there  assert,  therefore,  instead  of  being 
inconsistent  with  what  I  now  urge,  establishes  my  grand  point,  and 
overthrows  the  very  position  it  is  brought  to  prove,  viz.  That  all  the 
Council  ought  to  be  on  one  side. 

"3.  All  the  force  in  the  objection,  if  it  has  any,  lies — not  against 
my  going  out  of  the  county  for  a  choice,  but — against  my  having 
any  choice  at  all,  that  is,  against  any  elective  Council  whatever. 
For,  if  a  minister  has  any  advantage  in  his  choice  to  defend  himself 
in  error,  it  arises  from  his  having  liberty  to  choose  half  his  judges, 
and  not  from  the  place  w^here  they  are  chosen,  whether  in  or  out 
of  the  County.  The  rule  of  confining  him  and  the  church  to  the 
county  w^here  they  live,  will  no  more  defend  the  truth  than  expose 
it.  It  will  do  one  or  the  other  just  as  the  county  is.  If  the  churches 
of  this  county  had  happened  to  be  of  my  side,  this  rule  would  have 
defended  me  in  my  supposed  error,  and  w^ould  have  disabled  the 
church  from  defending  themselves  just  as  much,  as  going  out  of 
the  county  w'ill  now.  Lideed  the  rule  would  more  generally  ex- 
pose orthodox  churches  than  defend  them,  for  there  are  more  erro- 
neous vicinities  in  the  world  than  orthodox  ones. 

"  It  may  be  objected  that,  by  thus  insisting  on  the  liberty  of  going 
out  of  the  county,  I  cast  a  reflexion  on  the  neighbouring  ministers, 
as  though  they  had  not  honesty  enough  to  do  me  justice.  To  this 
I  answer  that,  if  any  individual  is  in  circumstances,  which  power- 
fully tend  to  prejudice  his  mind  in  favour  of,  or  against,  either  of 
the  parties  in  a  given  case ;  it  is  no  reflexion  on  him  to  object 
against  him,  as  improper  to  be  employed  as  a  judge  in  that  case. 
Thus,  if  a  man  is  nearly  related  to  one  of  the  parties  ;  or  where  a 
town  is  a  party,  and  he  is  an  inhabitant  of  that  town  ;  he  cannot  sit 
as  judge  or  juror  in  such  a  case.     But  there  is  far  more  reason  to 


3S4  LIFE    OF    PRESIDEXT    EDWARDS. 

object  against  all  the  judges  being  wholly  on  one  side,  to  judge  of 
the  conduct  of  two  parties  in  a  religious  controversy,  than  to  object 
against  near  relations ;  as  will  appear  if  we  consider  two  things  : 

"  1.  Men  are  as  prone,  in  religious  differences,  to  favour  their  own 
party,  as  they  are  to  favour  their  near  relations.  This  is  true  all 
the  world  over,  in  every  age,  with  both  learned  and  unlearned,  that 
men  are  friends  to  their  own  party,  and  commend  their  persons  and 
justify  their  conduct.  How  widely  different  are  the  opinions  of  two 
opposite  parties  of  the  same  points  of  conduct.  Thus,  how  diffe- 
rent are  the  opinions  of  Presbyterians  from  those  of  Episcopalians, 
concerning  the  conduct  of  the  Presbyterians  in  the  time  of  the 
Long  Parliament ;  and  so  I  might  adduce  innumerable  other  in- 
stances. 

"  2.  Difference  in  religious  sentiments  excites  one  kind  of  preju- 
dice which  nearness  of  relation  does  not ;  for,  though  the  latter  pre- 
judices us  in  favour  of  those  who  are  related  to  us,  yet  it  does  not 
prejudice  us  against  those  who  are  not  related  to  us ;  whereas  we 
are  not  only  prejudiced  in  favour  of  those  who  agree  with  us  in  sen- 
timent, but  we  are  strongly  prejudiced  against  those  who  differ  from 
us.  And  the  strongest  prejudices  ever  known  in  the  world  have 
arisen  from  this  cause.  Hence  the  question,  with  regard  to  tlie 
neighbouring  ministers  and  churches,  is  not,  whether  they  are  just 
and  upright  men,  but  whether  these  circumstances  naturally  tend 
to  bias  them  in  this  controversy.  If  they  do,  then  it  is  ob\iously 
against  the  plain  rights  of  mankind,  to  oblige  me  to  be  judged  only 
by  them. 

"  It  was  objected,  That,  to  allow  me  to  go  out  of  the  County, 
will  he  a  had  precedent,  and  greatly  expose  the  peace  and  good  or- 
der of  the  County,  in  its  ecclesiastical  affairs. 

"I  desire  this  objection  to  be  thoroughly  examined  ;  and  we  shall 
be  able  to  determine  whether  it  has  any  force  by  resolving  these 
two  questions  :  1,  Whether  the  rule  to  confine  Councils  to  a  vicinity, 
be  so  universal  and  unalterable,  that  it  is  absolutely  without  excep- 
tions, and  ought  never  to  be  departed  from  in  any  case,  ordinary  or 
extraordinary ;  and  if  not ;  then,  2,  Whether  this  case  be  so  far 
an  extraordinary  one  as  to  require  an  exception  from  the  general 
rule. 

"As  to  the  first  of  these  questions,  I  should  affi-ont  this  Rev. 
Council  by  suggesting  that  any  one  of  them  would  affirm  it ;  for  it 
would  contradict  their  own  practice  and  that  of  all  our  churches ; 
as  well  as  the  sentiments  which  they  have  advanced  respecting  the 
Consociations  in  Connecticut. 

"  The  only  remaining  question  is.  Whether  this  case  be  so  far 
extraordinary,  as  to  require  an  exception  from  the  general  rule. 
And  if  the  Council  will  reflect  on  what  has  been  said,  it  will  I  think  be 
plain  to  a  demonstration,  that  the  most  obvious  rules  of  justice  do  abso- 
lutely require  It.     We  are  two  controverting  parties,  and  we  want  a 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EmVAHD^.  385 

council,  because  we  want  judges  to  judge  between  us  ;  and  for  what, 
unless  to  do  justice  between  us.  We  want  a  balance  to  weigh  both 
parties ;  and  is  it  not  essential  that  the  scales  be  even  ?  If  both  parts 
of  the  Council  are  all  on  the  side  of  one  party,  is  it  not  evident  that 
the  scales  are  not  even  ?  Why  then  oblige  me  to  be  weighed  against 
tlie  other  party,  when  their  scale  is  so  much  the  heaviest  before 
we  are  put  into  the  balance.  It  is  the  law^  of  God,  Thou  shalt  have 
a  just  balance;  and  his  strict  injunction,  That,  which  is  altogether 
ju^t,  shalt  thou  follow.  The  prudence  and  justice  of  this  Council 
teaches  them  in  other  respects  not  to  give  one  side  an  advantage 
above  the  other — particularly  not  to  hear  one  side  in  the  absence 
of  the  other ;  to  have  the  same  rules  respecting  evidence  for  both  ; 
and  to  give  each  equal  opportunity  to  plead  his  own  cause.  Now 
if  justice  require,  that  such  an  exact  equality  be  maintained  in  cir- 
cumstantials, how  much  more  does  it  require  that,  in  a  point  so 
essential  as  the  choice  of  the  Tribunal  which  is  to  decide  the  main 
controversy,  there  be  a  perfect  equality,  and  that  neither  part}^  be 
allowed  to  have  all  the  judges  on  his  own  side.  How  highly  my 
people  estimate  the  advantage  of  having  all  the  judges  on  their 
o\\m  side,  is  abundantly  evident  from  their  strenuous  and  persever- 
ing efforts  to  secure  it ;  and  if  it  be  so  great  an  advantage,  why 
sliould  we  not  be  placed  on  the  same  footing  ?  My  people  have 
never  pretended,  that  I  ought  not  to  choose  half  of  the  Council  j 
nor  have  we  submitted  the  question  to  this  Council,  whether  our 
case  shall  be  referred  to  the  whole  county,  without  any  choice  in 
the  case.  I  say,  we  have  not  submitted  this  question,  because  it 
was  never  once  mentioned,  and  I  suppose  never  entered  into  our 
hearts.  I  am  sure  it  did  not  into  mine.  This  point  was  never- 
controverted  bet^veen  us  ;  and  it  is  absurd  to  su])pose,  that  we  sum- 
moned a  Council  of  Churches  to  decide  a  point,  which  we  had 
never  even  once  disputed,  but  had  always  been  agreed  in.  That  I 
should  have  a  choice  in  the  Council,  was  fully  admitted  by  the 
Church;  and  the  point  debated  between  us  was,  Whether  I 
should  go  out  of  the  county  in  my  choice  ?  But  if  I  be  allowed  a 
choice  as  well  as  they,  why  should  I  not  be  allowed  to  choose  those 
who  are  on  my  side,  as  well  as  the  Church  those  who  are  on  their 
side.  To  deny  me  this,  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  pretence  of 
allowing  me  a  choice ;  for  the  pretence  is  an  equality  of  advan- 
tage, or  an  equal  chance  for  justice.  To  allow  me  an  equal  choice, 
is  an  imphcit  acknowledgment  that  I  am  in  justice  entided  to  an 
equal  advantage;  but  to  tie  me  up  to  judges  who  are  of  their  opin- 
ion, is  grossly  inconsistent  with  this  acknowledgment.  To  tell  me 
with  a  great  show  of  fairness,  "  You  shall  stand  as  good  a  chance 
for  justice  as  we  ;  you  shall  choose  one  half  of  the  Council,  and 
w^e  will  choose  the  other ; — but  then  we  will  choose  those  who  are 
on  our  side,  and  you  also  shall  choose  those  who  are  on  our  side, 
and  opposed  to  yourself  on  the  main  point  in  controversy  :"  is  only 
Vol.  I.         *  4S 


oS6  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

mocking  and  insulting  me.  This  Council,  in  their  former  Result; 
intimate,  that  a  part  of  the  business  of  the  future  Council  will  be, 
to  endeavour  to  reconcile  us ;  and,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  case, 
the  Council,  which  comes  with  power  to  separate,  must  have 
power  to  decide,  Whether  the  separation  shall  be  immediate,  or, 
Whether  it  is  not  their  duty  to  act  as  mediators,  and  attempt  a  re- 
conciliation. And  what  is  more  obvious  to  common  sense,  than 
that  a  mediator  should  be  impartial ;  one  in  whom  both  parties  con- 
fide, and  have  an  equal  interest.  If  it  be  lawful  to  compare  little 
diings  with  great  ones,  did  not  the  Most  High  himself,  when  he 
was  pleased  to  appoint  a  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  take 
care  that  he  should  partake  of  both  natures,  to  qualify  him  for  that 
office  ? 

"  And,  besides  the  grounds  already  mentioned,  requiring  an  ex- 
emption from  tlie  ordinary  rules  of  proceeding,  this  case  is  in  other 
respects  extraordinary,  not  merely  in  some  of  its  circumstances, 
but  in  its  very  nature ;  so  much  so,  that  no  such  case,  I  appre- 
hend, has  occurred  in  New-England,  or  even  in  the  Christian 
Church.  The  proposed  Council  will  convene  to  decide  on  a  new 
question — a  question  which  I  suppose  was  never  before  submitted 
to  -m  ecclesiastical  tribunal.  And  certainly,  in  the  decision  of  such 
a  case,  it  cannot  but  be  allowed,  that  a  number  of  the  senior  min- 
isters of  the  country  should  be  engaged. 

*'  The  circumstances  of  the  country  ought  also  to  be  considered  ; 
we  having  no  appeal  from  one  Council  to  another.  Such  a  state 
of  things  makes  a  great  alteration,  as  to  what  is  reasonable  in  many 
particular  cases,  and  requires  some  things  to  be  allowed,  which 
need  not  be  allowed,  if  here,  as  in  Scotland,  we  could  appeal  from 
the  Churches  of  the  Vicinity  to  those  of  the  Province,  and  ulti- 
mately to  the  Assembly  of  the  whole  Nation.  It  is  a  strange  way 
of  arguing,  that,  because  there  ought  to  be  a  regular  estabhshment 
in  the  countr}",  we  ought  therefore  to  bind  ministers  and  Churches 
to  the  same  measures  as  if  there  were  one ;  and  yet  not  allow 
them  the  pri\dleges  which  an  establishment  secures,  and  .which 
alone  can  render  those  measures  tolerable.  If  we  had  a  regular 
establishment,  there  would  be  here,  as  in  Scodand,  no  elective 
Councils.  There  would  have  been  none  of  late  in  Hatfield,  nor 
in  this  town,  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Hawley.  Yet,  as  we  have  no  es- 
tablishment, every  one  allows  the  necessity  of  such  Councils  in  ma- 
ny cases ;  and  the  same  fact  involves  us  in  the  necessity  of  going 
out  of  the  vicinity,  because  we  have  not  the  right  of  appeal. 

"  On  the  whole,  admitting  it  to  be  a  good  general  rule,  That 
Councils  should  be  selected  from  the  neighbourhood,  no  reason,  can 
be  assigned,  why  this  case  should  not  be  exempted  ;  unless  we 
take  the  broad  ground,  that  no  exemptions  from  general  rules  shall 
ever  be  allowed,  however  just,  expedient  and  necessary  in  them- 
selves, for  fear  of  a  bad  precedent.     But  was  this  broad  ground 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  387 

ever  taken,  or  can  it  ever  be  observed  in  human  society  ?  No  such 
uniform  observance  of  general  rules  was  ever  known  in  our  ecclesiasti- 
cal concerns.  It  is  a  general  rule,  that  the  alleged  delinquency  of  a 
private  brother,  ought  first  to  be  tried  by  the  church  ;  yet  the  church 
may  refer  it  directly  to  a  Council,  as  was  lately  done  in  Hatfield,  with 
the  approbation  of  the  Churches,  and  with  no  fear  of  a  bad  prece- 
dent. And  with  regard  to  this  very  point,  to  go  from  the  vicinity 
in  the  choice  of  Councils,  so  far  from  being  a  new  thing,  has  been 
customary,  where  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  case  required 
it,  and  that  not  only  in  this  province,  but  even  in  Connecticut.  The 
aggrieved  party  at  Goshen,  in  their  controversy  with  Mr.  Heatonj 
passed  by  the  Consociation  to  which  Goshen  belongs,  and  sum- 
moned a  Council  from  the  remote  parts  of  Connecticut,  by  the  ad- 
vice of  Col.  WiUiams  of  Wethersfield,  and  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wil- 
liams of  Lebanon.  Mr.  Searl,  also,  neglecting  the  Consociation 
with  which  Sharon  is  connected,  by  the  advice  of  the  best  judges, 
summoned  a  Council,  to  settle  him  at  that  place.  But  what  I  de- 
sire, is,  not  to  go  from  the  vicinity  in  a  neglect  of  the  Churches  of 
the  vicinity,  but  to  select  half  the  Council  from  abroad,  first  asking 
the  leave  and  approbation  of  these  Churches. 

**  As  to  the  danger  of  this  case  being  pleaded  as  a  precedent,  for 
the  same  liberty  in  ordinary  cases ;  the  danger  is  less,  than  perhaps 
in  any  other  case,  because  all  the  world  regard  this  case  as  wholly 
new  and  extraordinary. 

"  And  it  is  a  great  mistake,  that  an  exemption  from  a  general 
rule,  in  a  singular  case  which  imperiously  requires  it,  tends  to  weak- 
en that  general  rule.  The  very  contrary  is  true,  that  to  grant  the 
exemption  strengthens,  and  to  refuse  it  weakens  the  rule ;  for  the 
injustice  which  men  suffer  by  an  over  exact  observance  of  the  rule^ 
is  ascribed  to  the  badness  of  the  rule  itself,  and  thus  we  are  inclin- 
ed to  renounce  it.  The  Ecclesiastical  Constitution  of  Connecticut 
has  of  late  been  evidently  weakened,  by  thus  overstraining  the 
general  rules;  and  to  refuse  reasonable  exemptions,  where  plain 
justice  requires  them,  will  tend  to  deter  the  country  from  ever  com- 
ing into  a  regular  establishment. 

"  If  tlien  the  whole  matter  be  duly  weighed  by  this  reverend 
Council,  I  cannot  but  think  they  will  jlidge,  that  no  ill  consequen- 
ces will  follow  from  granting  me  this  equal  liberty  of  choice,  which 
I  claim  as  a  matter  of  obvious  justice ;  and  that  there  will  be  many 
good  consequences  : — as  there  will  be  opportunity  to  obtain  a  just 
and  impartial  Council,  by  bringing  the  whole  of  the  Consistory  to  a 
proper  balance ;  as  we  shall  be  able  to  employ  a  number  of  the 
senior  mmisters,  and  gentlemen  of  chief  note  in  the  countr)'",  in  de- 
termining this  new  and  extraordinary  afiair;  as  there  will  be  a  pro- 
per Consistory,  to  attempt  a  reconciliation  between  the  parties ; 
and  as  the  proceedings  will  be  better  stated  abroad,  nnd  more  to 
the  satisfnction  of  ihc  world. 


SSS  LIFE    Oi'    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  I  beseech  the  reverend  Council  not  suddenly  to  pass  over  these 
things,  but  to  weigh  them  witli  thorough  deliberation.  I  trust  to 
their  justice,  that  they  will  use  great  care  and  diligence,  that  there 
be  DO  unequal  and  hard  dealing  as  to  the  terms  I  am  bound  to,  in 
the  hearing  and  determining  this  affair  of  such  vast  importance." 


"  After  the  preceding  Remarks  had  been  submitted  by  the 
Pastor ;  the  Committee  of  the  Church,  and  some  of  the  private 
members  of  the  church,  addressed  the  Council  on  the  same  sub- 
ject ;  when,  after  long  consideration,  the  question  being  put,  the 
members  of  the  Council  were  equally  divided  upon  it;  and  the  fol- 
lowing wTiting  was  drawn  up  by  them  and  read  to  the  Pastor  and 
Church  Committee  : — " 

[The  blank  left  in  this  place  for  the  v/riting  is  not  filled  up.]  • 

"  Several  of  the  members  of  the  Council  did  then,  as  christian 
friends,  advise,  that  Pastor  and  People,  should,  in  this  affair,  con- 
descend to  each  other,  each  departing  in  some  degree  from  what 
they  had  insisted  on  ;  that  the  Pastor  should  no  longer  insist  on  go- 
ing out  of  the  county  for  half  of  the  Couiiicil ;  and  that  the  people 
should  not  insist  upon  his  being  confined  wholly  to  the  county,  but 
thatt  ey  should  consent  that  he  should  go  out  for  a  minor  part,  the 
major  part  of  the  Council  being  of  the  county.  This  seemed  to 
be  the  coucurring  sentiment  of  the  members  of  the  Council,  and 
this  reason  was  given  why  it  was  not  voted  in  Council,  that  they 
did  not  look  upon  finding  out  any  such  expedient  for  an  accommo- 
dation. 

"  I  then  manifested  before  the  members  of  the  Council  my  dis^ 
appointment,  in  that  the  Council  had  never  given  their  judgment, 
Whether  it  was  the  duty  of  my  people  to  hear  the  reasons  of  my 
opinion  from  the  pulpit ;  altliough  that  matter  had  been  particu- 
larly debated  before  them.  Upon  which  one  of  them,  \\z.  Mr. 
Partridge,  replied,  That  although  the  Council  had  said  nothing  ex- 
pressly about  that  matter,  yet  there  was  something  in  their  Result, 
which  was  drawn  up  at  the  first  sitting  of  the  Council,  which  was 
supposed  to  be  a  sufficient  intimation  of  the  mind  of  the  Council, 
that  my  people  ought  to  hear  me,  viz.  that  passage,  wherein  they 
speak  of  the  Chureh  Committee  opposing  my  delivering  my  prineiples 
from  the  pulpit,  as  one prohahle  occasion  oj  the  great  uneasiness  and 
dissatisfaction,  ichich  had  arisen  between  the  Pastor  and  the  People, 

"  I  then  made  a  declaration  before  the  members  of  the  Council, 
and  also  in  the  presence  of  the  Committee  of  the  Church,  to  the 
following  purpose:  "I  judge  thatdiere  is  a  great  prospect  of  our 
controversy  issuing  in  a  separation  between  Pastor  and  People ; 
?md,  en  long  and  mature  consideratien,  I  have  determined  tliat  I 


LIFE    ©F    PRESIBENT    EDWARBS.  38^ 

oaiinot  leave  this  people,  wiihout  first  making  trial,  Whether  my 
people  will  hear  me  give  the  reasons  of  my  opinion  from  the  pulpit^ 
imless  I  am  advised  to  the  contrary  by  a  Council ;  being  fully  per- 
suaded, on  the  best  enquiry  I  can  make,  that  a  very  great  part  of 
the  people  have  never  read  my  book,  nor  have  by  any  means  been 
inlbrmed  of  my  reasons,  and  are  not  likely  to  be  informed  in  any 
other  vvay  than  from  the  pulpit.  However  I  am  willing  to  refer 
this  matter  to  this  Council,  as  a  case  of  conscience  to  be  resolved  by 
them,  Whether  Ihave  a  right  to  deliver  my  reasons  from  thepulpit, 
or  not?  and,  if  they  determine  that  I  have  not,  I  can  be  easy  to 
forbear." 

"  On  hearing  this,  the  Council  at  first  talked  of  desiring  to  be  by 
themselves,  to  consider  of  this  matter.  But  it  was  presently  said 
by  some  of  them,  That  it  was  a  matter,  w^hich  was  indisputable,  that 
I  had  a  right,  and  a  right  which  I  ought  not  to  put  out  of  my  hands, 
and  ought  not  to  leave  the  matter  to  any  Council ;  and  so  they  put 
by  the  thoughts  of  entering  into  any  particular  consideration  of  the 
subject.  Upon  which  I  declared,  That  I  judged  that  I  had  a  right 
to  preach  on  the  subject  on  the  Sabbath  ;  but,  that  I  might  do  it 
in  the  way  which  would  least  ofiend,  I  would  first  make  trial  whe- 
ther my  people  would  hear  me  on  Lectures  appointed  for  that  end, 
and  tliat  I  proposed  to  have  my  first  Lecture  the  next  Thursday, 
Feb.  15,  at  2  o'clock,  P.  M. ;  and,  if  I  found  that  my  people  w^ould 
not  hear  me  on  Lecture  days,  I  would  reserve  liberty  to  myself  to 
do  it  on  the  Sabbath.  None  of  the  members  of  the  Council  said 
any  thing  by  way  of  objection  against  any  part  of  this,  which  1  had 
tlius  declared. 

"  The  next  Sabbath,  at  the  conclusion  of  the  afternoon  exercise., 
I  informed  the  Congregation  of  this  which  passed  before  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Council  and  the  Committee  of  the  church,  viz.  of  this 
declai'ation  which  1  then  made;  and  renewed  my  declaration  of 
preaching  Lectures,  and  appointed  the  first  Lecture  to  be  the  next 
Thursday. 

"The  next  day,  Monday,  Feb.  12,  the  Precinct  met  according 
to  adjournment,  and  a  vote  was  passed,  by  a  small  majority,  to 
choose  a  Committee  to  come  to  me,  and  desire  me  not  to  preach 
Lectures  on  tlie  subject  in  controversy,  according  to  my  declara- 
tion and  appointment.  They  proceeded  to  choose  Deacon  Cook, 
Deacon  Pomroy  and  Capt.  John  Lyman  for  this  purpose,  and  then 
adjourned  themselves  to  the  first  Monday  in  March. 

"The  Committee  that  was  chosen,  came  to  me  the  same  day, 
at  evening,  on  their  appointed  errand.  But,  after  considerable  dis^ 
course  with  them,  I  informed  them,  that  I  could  not  think  T  should 
be  in  the  way  of  my  dut}%  without  preaching  my  appointed  Lec- 
tures to  such  as  were  willing  to  hear  me. 

"Accordingly  the  next  Thursday,  Feb.  15, 1  preached  my  first 
J^ecture,  which  was  thinly  attended  by  own  people  ;  but  there  wem 


390  LIFE    OF  PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

present  a  very  great  number  of  strangers ; — I  suppose  much  more 
than  half  the  Congregation  ; — which  was  partly  owing  to  the  fact, 
that  the  County  Court  was  then  sitting.  And  I  would  observe,  by 
the  way,  that  the  justices  of  the  Court  adjourned  themselves  to 
attend  my  Lecture;  which  greatly  provoked  the  Clerk  of  the 
Court,  and  occasioned  his  uttering  himself  very  openly  and  pub- 
liclv  in  some  very  harsh  expressions,  wherein  he  called  me  a  tyrant, 
one'  who  lorded  it  over  God's  heritage,  etc. 

"The  next  Saturday,  Feb.  17,  a  little  before  night,  came  to  me 
Dea.  Cook  and  Dea.  Ponn-oy,  and  told  me,  that  it  was  the  desire 
of  some  of  the  brethren  of  the  church,  that  I  would  stay  the  church 
the  next  day,  to  see  if  the  church  would  not  call  the  ministers  of 
this  Association,  to  advise  them  what  course  to  take  under  their 
present  circumstances.  I  objected.  That  it  was  but  a  little  more 
than  a  week  since  we  had  had  a  Council,  who  were  called  on  this 
very  business,  to  direct  us  how  we  should  conduct  ourselves  for 
the  present ;  and  that  there  was  nothing  remarkable  or  new  in  our 
circumstances,  nothing  but  what  was  visible  to  the  Council  before 
they  went  away.  And  I  told  them  that  I  was  fixed  in  it,  to  have 
no  hand  in  calling  any  more  Councils  in  our  affairs,  unless  I  might 
have  a  choice  with  the  people,  and  might  choose  some  out  of  the 
County,  and  might  have  some  in  the  Council  favouring  my  own 
opinion,  so  that  there  might  be  somewhat  of  a  balance  in  the  Coun- 
cil :  on  which  they  went  away. 

"  On  Monday,  Feb.  19,  Dea.  Cook  and  some  others  w^ent  round 
to  get  subscriptions  to  a  paper,  drawn  up  and  directed  to  the  Min- 
isters ol  this  Association,  setting  forth  to  this  purpose, — That  I  had 
been  applied  to  for  a  Church  meeting,  to  see  if  the  church  would 
not  call  the  Association  together  for  their  advice,  etc.  etc.,  and  that 
I  refused  ;  and  that  I,  at  the  same  time,  declared  that  I  never  would 
have  any  hand  in  calling  any  Council  in  our  affairs,  unless  !  might 
choose  one  half  out  of  the  county,  as  I  had  heretofore  insisted,  and 
therefore  desiring  them  to  come  together  and  give  them  advice. 
To  this  paper  they  obtained  a  considerable  number  of  subscribers, 
so  far  as  I  can  learn  about  fifty ;  and  then  carried  it  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Williams  of  Hadley ;  who  undertook  to  send  to  the  members 
of  the  Association,  and  accordingly  did  send  to  most  of  them.  I 
saw  two  of  the  letters  which  he  sent,  which  were  very  much  to  the 
same  purpose.     The  following  is  a  copy  of  one  of  them : 

"  The  Northampton  people  are  desirous  of  having  some  minis- 
ter preach  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  controversy  to  Mr.  Edwards. 
They  have  brought  an  application  to  this  Association  for  advice,  and 

lodged  it  with ;  and  at  their  desire,  and  atthe  advice  of  some  of 

our  brethren  in  the  ministry,  I  have  written  to  the  ministers,  to  desire 
them  to  meet  at  my  house,  onThursd?y,  early  in  the  morning.  I  hope 
^'Du  will  come,  for  you  can't  easily  thmk  what  posture  things  are  in. 


1.IFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  391 

And  unless  we  do  concert  some  measures,  we  are  in  danger  of  be- 
ing overrun  5  and  Norriiampton  will  proceed  to  extreme  measures, 
being  conducted  by  some  gentlemen  not  over  tender  of  ministers  or 
churches ;  which  may  prove  of  pernicious  consequence  to  us,  and 
all  our  churches.  I  have  the  promise  of  some  gentlemen  to  come, 
and  hope  you  will  not  fail. 

"  From  your  brother,  etc. 

"Chester  Williams. 
'' Hadley,  Feb.  20,  1750." 

"  Six  of  the  ministers  came  together  on  this  notification,  viz.  Mr. 
Partridge  of  East  Hadley,  Mr.  Billings  of  Cold  Spring,  Mr.  Ash- 
ley of  Sunderland,  Mr.  Ashley  of  Deerfield,  My.  Woodbridge  of 
Hatfield,  and  Mr.  Williams  of  Hadley.  That  day,  being  Thurs- 
day, Feb.  22,  I  had  my  second  Lecture  ;  which  was  also  attended 
thinly  by  my  own  people,  but  by  a  great  number  of  strangers :  as 
it  appeared  to  me,  more  than  half  of  the  congregation  being 
strangers. 

"  In  the  evening,  three  of  the  forementioned  ministers  came  to 
my  house,  viz.  Mr.  Partridge,  Mr.  Billings^  and  Mr.  Woodbridge ; 
and  showed  me  the  paper,  which  had  been  lodged  with  Mr.  Wil- 
liams, directed  to  the  Association,  subscribed  by  a  number  of  the 
members  of  this  church ;  and  also  showed  me  a  vote,  which  they 
had  passed  among  themselves — "  That  they  would  proceed  to  give 
some  advice  to  the  people  of  JSorthampton,  as  they  desired.''^  I  in- 
formed them,  that  there  was  a  great  misrepresentation  in  the  paper 
sent  to  them,  in  representing  me  to  have  declared — "  That  I  utter- 
ly refused  to  have  any  hand  in  calling  any  Council,  unless  I  might 
choose  half  of  the  members  out  of  the  county  ;" — whereas  all  that 
I  said  was — "  That  I  would  have  no  hand  in  calling  any  Council,, 
unless  I  might  choose  some  of  the  members  out  of  the  county ;" — 
and  that  I  had  no  thought  of  insisting  on  half,  when  the  Deacons  were 
here  ;  but  all  I  had  thoughts  of,  was  only  choosing  a  minor  part,  agree- 
ably to  the  private  advice  of  the  members  of  the  late  Council.  After 
much  more  conversation  with  them  on  our  affairs,  the  next  morning 
these  gentlemen  returned  to  their  brethren  at  Hadley ;  and  after 
long  consideration,  they  broke  up  and  did  nothing. 

"  March  5,  the  Precinct  met  again,  according  to  adjournments 
This  being  also  the  day  of  the  Town-meeting  for  choosing  town  of- 
ficers, the  Precinct-meeting  was  adjourned  to  the  next  day.  The 
next  day,  they  met,  and  adjourned  themselves  until  half  past  four 
o'clock  P.  M.  That  was  the  day  of  my  fourth  Lecture  on  the 
subject  in  controversy ;  which  being  the  last  I  intended  but  one* 
and  the  Public  Fast  being  appointed  on  the  Thursday  following, 
which  would  put  by  my  last  Lecture  a  week  longer,  I  sent  the  peo- 
ple word  at  this  meeting,  that  if  they  insisted  on  my  calling  a 
Church-meeting,  in  order  to  my  calling  a  decisive  Council,  before 


392  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

my  last  Lecture  was  past,  I  would  warn  one  the  next  Monday  ^ 
though  I  chose,  if  they  were  willing,  that  it  should  be  deferred  un- 
til  after  my  last  Lecture.  Accordingly,  they  consented  that  it  should 
be  so  deferred ;  and  appointed  Deac.  Cook  to  come  to  me,  and 
desire  me  to  call  a  Church-meeting  the  week  after  my  last  Lecture, 
and  then  adjourned  themselves  to  March  22,  at  half  past  4  o'clock,^^ 
the  day  of  my  last  Lecture  ;  when  they  met,  and  adjourned  them- 
selves to  April  2,  1750. 

"  On  the  next  Sabbath,  March  25,  I  warned  a  Church-meeting 
for  the  next  day,  at  1  o'clock,  to  see  if  Pastor  and  People  could 
not  agree  upon  a  Council,  to  advise  us  under  our  difficulties,  and, 
if  they  thought  fit,  to  bring  our  controversy  to  a  speedy  issue. 

"  Accordingly,  the  next  day,  March  26,  the  Church  met,  and, 
at  the  request  of  some  of  the  brethren,  I  desired  that  those  who 
were  of  the  same  principles,  on  which  the  Church  had  proceeded 
in  their  former  practice,  in  the  admission  of  members  to  full  com- 
munion in  the  church,  would  manifest  it  by  holding  up  their  hands ; 
and  it  appeared  that  there  was  a  great  majorit}'  still  of  those  prin- 
ciples. 

"  We  next  proceeded  to  consider  the  business  on  which  a 
Council  should  be  called,  and  I  proposed  the  following  draft  of  a 
vote  for  consideration — "  That  a  Council  be  called,  to  give  us  their 
best  advice  for  a  remedy  from  the  calamities,  arising  from  the  pre- 
sent unsettled  broken  state  of  this  church,  by  reason  of  the  contro- 
versy here  subsisting,  concerning  the  Qualifications  for  full  com- 
munion in  the  church.  And  if,  upon  the  whole  of  what  they  see 
and  find  in  our  circumstances,  they  judge  it  best,  that  Pastor  and 
People  be  immediately  separated,  that  they  proceed  to  dissolve  the 
relation  I  etween  them." 

"  There  was  much  discourse  concerning  this  draft.  It  was  read 
publicly  and  distinctly,  three  or  four  times,  and  it  was  desired  that 
each  particular  passage  of  it  might  be  considered  and  scanned.  It 
was  offered  to  such  as  desired  to  view  and  examine  it,  and  handed 
from  one  to  another.  Some  amendments  were  proposed  ;  but  the 
amendments  did  not  seem  to  be  liked  so  well  as  the  first  draft.  It 
was  then  put  to  vote  ;  and  it  was  questioned  whether  it  was  a  vote. 
Then  it  was  desired  that  all  might  sit  down,  and  hold  up  their  hands 
for  some  considerable  time,  and  then  it  appeared  plainly  to  be  a 
vote,  was  generally  acknowledged  to  be  so,  by  such  as  had  appear- 
ed most  to  oppose  it,  and  was  not  questioned  by  more  than  one  or 
two.  And  one  of  them,  viz.  Major  Pomeroy,  said  it  was  general- 
ly allowed  to  be  a  vote,  and  therefore  intimated  it  to  be  his  mind, 
that  it  should  pass  as  such,  and  that  we  should  therefore  proceed  to 
other  business. 

"  Then  I  declared  to  the  church,  what  I  should  insist  upon  with 
respect  to  the  Council  that  should  be  chosen — viz.  To  choose  half 


LIFK    OF    PllEBIDENT    EDWARDS.  393 

the  members  of  the  Coimf.il ;  and  to  clioose  three  ministers  or 
churches  without  the  bounds  of  tlio  county,  and  should  not  insist 
on  more  than  three,  unless  the  whole  Council  consisted  of  more 
than  fourteen.  I  also  told  them,  that  I  should  insist  on  a  provi- 
sional choice  of  some  others  out  of  the  county,  to  come  in  case  any 
of  the  three  first  pitched  upon  should  fail ;  so  that  I  might  indeed 
have  three  from  otlier  parts  of  tlie  land. 

"  It  was  then  strongly  insisted  on  by  the  Church,  that  I  ought 
not  to  be  allowed  to  choose  any  out  of  the  county  ;  so  that  the 
consideration  of  the  number  to  be  chosen  out  of  the  county,  was 
for  the  present  laid  aside.  And  the  matter  debated  was,  "  Whe- 
ther I  should  be  allowed  to  bring  any  at  all  from  without  the  bounds 
of  the  county  ?"  After  much  talk,  it  was  put  to  vote  in  the  follow- 
ing words  : — "  Whether  or  not  you  do  consent,  that  in  choosing  the 
Council  now  under  consideradon,  I,  in  my  choice,  should  go  out 
of  this  county  for  any  part  of  the  Council  ?  Let  those,  who  do  con- 
sent, manifest  it,  by  holding  up  their  hands." — It  was  not  voted.— 
Upon  which  I  told  the  church,  that  the  business  of  the  meeting  was 
come  to  an  end ;  as  it  was  apparent  that  Pastor  and  People  could 
act  in  nothing  together,  in  calling  a  Council.  After  some  dis- 
course, I  told  them,  that  I  stood  ready  to  yield  to  have  but  two  of 
the  Council  from  abroad,  unless  the  Council  consisted  of  more  than 
ten  ;  but  should  insist  on  three,  if  the  whole  was  more  than  ten,  and 
on  more,  if  the  Council  was  above  fourteen.  It  being  moved  by 
some  of  the  brethren,  that  the  meeting  should  be  adjourned  one 
day,  for  further  consideration ;  it  was  accordingly  adjourned  to 
the  next  day,  at  one  o'clock. 

"  Accordingly  the  next  day  we  met  again ;  and  the  last  subject 
of  consideration,  concerning  my  going  out  of  the  County  for  any 
part  of  the  Council,  was  proposed  again ;  and,  supposing  they  had 
now  had  sufficient  consideration  of  the  matter,  I  vras  about  to  put  it 
to  vote  again.  But  then  it  was  desired  by  some,  that  there  might 
be  a  reconsideration  of  the  first  vote  that  had  passed  the  day  before,  con- 
cerning the  business  of  the  Council;  and  suggested  that,  if  some  alter- 
ation were  made  in  that  vote,  there  was  a  probability  that  the  latter  vote, 
concerning  my  going  out  of  the  county,  would  pass  without  difficulty. 
Then  Major  Pomroy  declared  that  a  number  of  the  brethren  had  met 
together,  and  drawn  up  something  determining  the  business  of  the 
Council :  which  draught  he  read,  which  was  to  this  purpose,  viz., 
"  That  the  Council  should  come,  and  propose  terms  of  accommo- 
dation between  pastor  and  people ;  to  which,  if  the  people  did  not 
consent,  the  Council  should  proceed  immediately  to  dissolve  the 
relation  between  pastor  and  people."  I  objected  much  against  set- 
ting aside  what  had  been  already  voted,  to  make  way  for  any  new 
projections,  as  only  tending  to  open  a  door  for  new  contests  and 
difficulties,  and  greatly  to  entangle  and  lengthen  out  our  affairs  ;  and 
also  because  there  was  nothins;  in  what  had  been  already  voted  but 

Vol.  I.  ^^)0 


394 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


what  was  essential,  what  the  nature  of  things  and  the  state  of  our 
affairs  did  necessarily  require,  and  therefore  what  I  must  insist  up- 
on. And  I  particularly  objected  to  what  Major  Pomroy  proposed, 
as  limiting  the  Council,  without  referring  any  thing  to  their  judg- 
ment or  advice,  and  not  so  much  as  suffering  them  to  act  their  own 
judgment  in  determining,  whether  it  was  best  immediately  to  pro- 
ceed to  separate  between  pastor  and  people.  The  same  things 
were  strongly  objected  by  some  others ;  and  on  the  whole  I  mani- 
fested that  I  should  wholly  decline  putting  it  to  vote  ;  on  which,  af- 
ter much  earnest  talk,  I  put  the  other  matter  to  vote,  viz. — Whether 
I  should  be  allowed  to  go  out  of  tlie  County  for  any  members  of 
the  Council ;  which  again  passed  in  the  negative. 

"  Upon  this  I  informed  the  Church,  that  I  was  not  against  their 
having  farther  time  for  consideration,  if  they  desired  it,  and  farther 
conference  with  them,  or  with  a  Committee  they  might  choose  ; 
but  it  would  not  be  worth  the  while  to  make  any  farther  attempt  to 
act  in  concert,  if  they  were  fixed  and  resolved  in  tliese  two  things  : 
— Not  to  leave  it  to  the  discretion  of  the  Council,  whether  to  sepa- 
rate ;  and.  Not  to  allow  nie  to  choose  any  members  of  the  Council 
out  of  the  County. — Some  of  them  declared  they  were  fixed  in 
these  things ;  upon  which  I  asked,  if  any  had  any  thing  to  object 
against  my  dissohing  the  meeting,  seeing  we  were  come  at  present 
to  a  stop,  as  to  acting  any  thing  together ;  and  told  them  withal  that, 
if  afterwards,  on  further  consideration,  a  church  meeting  was  desir- 
ed to  reconsider  these  matters,  I  would  not  refuse  warning  one. 
On  this  occasion,  there  was  much  earnest  talk  about  the  power  of 
the  Church  to  act  without  me,  and  to  call  a  Council  themselves. 
Finally  some  of  the  brethren  thought  I  had  best  to  dissolve  the 
meeting,  and  accordingly  I  dissolved  it ;  immediately  after  which, 
as  the  people  began  to  move,  in  order  to  go  out  of  the  meedng 
house,  some  individuals  called  out  very  earnestly  to  them  to  stay, 
and  proceed  to  act  widiout  me,  and  see  if  they  could  not  have  Maj. 
Pomroy's  draught,  (aforementioned)  put  to  vote.  I  then  came 
away  ;  and  the  people  that  stayed  behind  differing  among  themselves, 
gradually  dispersed,  and  did  nothing. 

"  The  next  Friday,  March  30,  1750,  I  sent  to  Deacon  Cook  the 
following  declaration. 

[The  blank  intended  for  the  copy  of  the  declaration  is  not  filled 
up.] 

"  The  Monday  following,  being  April  2,  the  Precinct  met  ac- 
cording to  adjournment.  It  was  a  very  thin  meedng  consisting 
of  about  forty-four  persons.  It  was  proposed  by  some,  that 
the  Precinct  should  send  a  Messenger  to  the  Association  of 
the  lower  part  of  the  County,  who  were  to  sit  that  week  at 
Springfield  Mountains,  for  their  advice, — Whether  they  had  best 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  395 

to  consent  to  what  I  insisted  on,  with  regard  to  going  out  of  the 
County,  or  not  ? — and  it  was  put  to  vote  whether  they  should  send 
such  a  messenger ;  but  they  w^ere  not  able  to  determine  whetlier  it 
w^as  a  vote  or  not,  until  they  divided,  when  it  appeared  to  be  voted 
by  a  majority  of  26  against  18.  Accordingly  Major  Pomroy,  Sen- 
ior, and  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley,  were  appointed  a  Committee  to  write 
to  the  Association  in  behalf  of  tlie  Precinct ;  and  Josiah  Pomroy 
was  appointed  the  messenger  to  carry  the  letter,  and  bring  tlie  re- 
turn. The  meeting  was  then  adjourned  until  Tuesday,  April  10. 
Accordingly  this  Committee  wrote  and  sent  to  the  Lower  Associ- 
ation. 

"  On  tliis  occasion,  the  day  before  the  Association  met,  I  sent 
the  following  letter  to  Mr.  Hopkins  of  Springfield. 

[The  blank  left  for  the  copy  of  this  letter  is  not  filled  up.] 

"  The  Association,  on  occasion  of  the  message  sent  to  them,  and 
of  my  letter  to  Mr.  Hopkins,  sent  a  letter  to  me  and  another  to  tlie 
Committee  w^hich  are  as  follows. 

[The  blank  left  for  the  copies  of  these  letters  is  not  filled  up.] 

**  Tuesday,  April  10,  the  Precinct  met  again  according  to  ad- 
journment. It  was  a  thin  meeting  of  about  forty-one  members. 
The  moderator  read  my  declaration,  aforementioned,  sent  to  Deac. 
Cook,  and  also  the  letters  of  the  Low^er  Association  to  me  and  to 
the  Committee  ;  and  after  some  discourse  itw^as  voted  to  desire  me 
to  call  a  Church  meeting  the  next  Monday,  in  order  to  some  far- 
ther attempts  for  an  agreement  of  pastor  and  people  on  some  mea- 
sures for  bringing  these  affairs  to  issue,  or  that  purpose.  Then 
the  meeting  was  adjourned  to  the  next  Tuesday,  A])ril  17. 

"Accordingly  the  next  Sabbath,  April  15,  I  warned  a  meeting 
of  the  church  for  the  next  day  at  3  o'clock,  P.  M.  Agreeably  to 
tliis  warning  the  church  met  on  IMonday,  April  16.  After  the  meet- 
ing was  opened  by  prayer,  Major  Pomroy  read  the  letter,  w^iich 
the  Committee  of  the  Precinct  had  received  from  the  Lower  As- 
sociation of  this  County.  After  this  ensued  some  new  disputes 
concerning  the  reasonableness  of  my  being  allowed  to  go  out  of  the 
county  for  some  of  the  Council,  which  should  have  power  to  issue 
our  controversy.  I  also  read  the  forementioned  declaradon,  which 
I  had  sent  to  Deac.  Cook,  of  March  30.  I  then  told  the  church,  if 
they  had  any  thing  to  propose  concerning  another  Previous  Coun- 
cil, agreeably  to  the  advice  they  had  received,  I  stood  ready  to  hear 
it  and  consider  of  it,  and  told  diem,  if  there  appeared  a  disposition 
to  call  another  Previous  Council  to  determine — JVhether  it  was 
not  reasonable,  that  I  should  he  allowed  to  go  out  of  the  county, 
in  the  choice  of  a  Decisive  Council  f — 1  would  take  the  matter  into 


39^  LIFE    OF    PKESIDENT    EDV/AKDS. 

consideration,  and  would  ask  the  advice  of  my  friends.  But,  from 
what  was  said,  tliere  did  not  appear  to  be  any  prevailing  inclination 
to  it,  but  the  contrary. 

"  Then  it  was  put  to  vote  again — "  JMiether  they  were  willing 
I  should  go  out  of  the  County  for  any  members  of  the  Council, 
which  should  have  power  to  issue  our  controversy  ? — and  the  church 
dividing  upon  it,  there  w^ere  about  one  hundred  and  nine  against  it, 
and  fifty-six  for  it. 

"  After  this,  I  put  it  to  vote, —  Whether  the  Church  were  willing, 
that  another  Previous  Council  should  he  called,  in  some  ivay  mutu- 
ally chosen,  in  order  to  determine  ivhether  1  might  he  allowed  to  go 
out  of  the  County,  for  some  members  of  a  Decisive  Council;  and 
whether  in  that  case  they  did  consent  that  I  should  take  time  to  con- 
sider of  this  matter,  and  ask  advice  of  my  friends^ — and  I  saw"  but 
three  or  four  hands  up  for  it.     So  the  meeting  was  dismissed. 

"The  next  day,  April  17,  1  went  a  journey  down  the  country. 
The  same  day,  after  I  was  gone,  tlie  Precinct  met  again  according 
to  adjournment ;  when  was  read  the  following  Letter  from  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Clark  of  Salem  Village,  directed  to  Major  Pomroy,  to  be 
communicated  to  the  Precinct. 

[The  blank,  left  for  the  copy  of  Mr.  Clark's  Letter,  is  not  filled 
up.  In  it  he  doubtless  declined  complying  with  tlie  request  of  the 
Precinct  to  answer  Mr.  Edward's  Treatise  on  the  Quahfications  for 
communion.] 

"  At  this  meeting  it  was  determined.  That  the  brethren  of  the 
church  should  be  called  together  by  the  warning  of  the  Deacons  the 
next  Friday ;  and  the  Precinct  meeting  was  adjourned  to  Wednes- 
day, May  2. 

"Accordingly,  on  Friday,  April  20,  there  was  a  meeting  of  many 
brethren  of  the  church,  in  the  meeting-house,  in  my  absence.  Maj. 
Pomroy  was  chosen  Moderator  of  the  meeting  ;  and  then  they  pro- 
ceeded to  take  into  consideration  the  propriety  and  expediency  of 
the  brethren  proceeding  to  act  separately,  i.  e.  without  their  pastor, 
in  calling  a  Council.  After  some  discourse,  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley 
offered  some  proposals  in  writing,  which,  for  substance,  were, — 
That  a  numher  of  gentlemen,  not  exceeding  seven,  ministers  or  lay- 
men, or  both,  shoidd  he  mutually  chosen  from  any  part  of  the  coun- 
try, to  come,  not  as  sent  by  their  churches,  or  as  an  Ecclesiastical 
Council,  but  as  a  number  of  advisers,  to  see  if  they  could  devise 
some  ivay,  in  ivhich  the  Pastor  and  Church  might  consist  together, 
notwithstanding  their  difference  in  opinion.  And  to  know  the 
minds  of  the  meeting,  a  vote  was  proposed  by  some ;  but  others 
objected,  and  thought  it  better  for  the  church  to  choose  a  Commit- 
tee to  consider  oCthe  proposals,  and,  if  they  saw  needful,  to  amend 
it  and  present  it  to  the  pastor,  and  see  if  he  would  agree  to  it,  and. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  397 

if  he  did,  tlien  to  present  it  for  their  approbation.  Upon  this  it  was 
objected,  since  the  proposal  took  its  rise  from  the  church,  that  it 
w^as  improper  that  they  should  present  it  to  the  pastor  for  his  ap- 
probf.tion,  before  it  was  known  whether  the  church  would  consent 
to  it  or  not,  if  the  pastor  should.  Hence  it  was  urged  that  a  vote 
should  be  put,  whether  the  church  would  consent  to  it  or  the  sub- 
stance of  it.  The  vote  accordingly  was  put,  and  it  passed  in  the 
affirmative  by  a  great  majority,  as  the  moderator  declared,  and  then 
the  brethren  present  chose  a  Committee,  viz.  Maj.  Pomroy,  Col. 
Dwight,  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley,  Dea.  Pomroy  and  Ebenezer  Hunt,  to 
consider  what  circumstantial  alterations  might  be  made  in  the  pro- 
posal ;  and  then  the  meeting  was  adjourned  to  the  next  Friday. 
The  Committee  met ;  but  could  not  agree  as  to  their  business  for 
w^hich  they  were  appointed  ;  whether  it  w^as  to  consider  of  the  pro- 
posal not  only  as  to  circumstantials  but  also  as  to  the  substance  ;  and 
three  of  the  Committee  thought  it  not  best  for  the  church  to  act 
any  further  on  the  aforesaid  proposal,  but  that  it  w^as  better  for  the 
church  to  comply  w^ith  what  the  Pastor  had  insisted  on,  of  choos- 
ing some  of  the  members  of  the  Council  without  the  limits  of  the 
county. 

"  Friday,  April  27,  the  brethren  met  again  according  to  their  ad- 
journment, and  voted,  by  a  great  majority,  to  comply  with  what  I 
had  insisted  on,  as  to  choosing  some  members  of  the  Council  with- 
out the  bounds  of  the  county,  and  appointed  Dea.  Pomroy  to  come 
to  me  to  desire  me  to  call  a  church  meeting  to  prosecute  that  affair. 
Accordingly  the  next  Sabbath  I  warned  a  church  meeting,  to  be 
the  next  Thursday,  May  3,  at  three  o'clock,  in  order  to  another 
trial,  whether  Pastor  and  People  could  not  agree  on  measures 
tending  to  bring  our  controversy  to  an  issue. 

"Wednesday,  May  2,  the  Precinct  met  again  according  to  ad- 
journment and  adjourned  themselves  further  to  the  next  day,  at  tlie 
meeting-house,  to  be  held  there  after  the  church  meeting. 

"  Thursday,  May  3,  the  church  met  according  to  my  appoint- 
ment, and  the  former  vote  respecting  the  business  of  the  Council, 
wdiich  passed  at  the  church  meeting,  March  26,  w^as  read.  Then 
I  proposed  that  a  vote  should  be  put  again,  respecting  my  going  out 
of  the  county  for  two  ministers  or  churches  of  tlie  Council ;  and  it 
was  insisted  that  there  should  be  a  saving  clause  added,  intimating 
that  it  was  not  proposed  that  this  vote  should  be  used  as  a  prece- 
dent for  the  future.  Then  I  put  the  vote  to  the  brethren  thus, 
"  Do  you  consent  that,  in  choosing  the  Council  to  transact  the  fore- 
mentioned  business,  I  in  my  choice  should  choose  two  ministers  or 
churches  without  the  bounds  of  this  county,  not  intending  that  this 
shall  hereafter  have  the  force  of  a  precedent?" — It  passed  in  the 
Affirmative.  Then  I  desired  that  I  might  make  a  provisional  choice 
of  two  more,  who  might  be  applied  to,  in  case  those  I  might  first 
choose  should  fail,  or  could  not  be  obtained.     This  also  was  voted. 


398  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  Then  it  was  proposed,  Whether  the  Council  should  be  a  Coun- 
cil of  Ministers  or  Churches  ;  and  it  was  determined  by  a  vote,  that 
it  should  be  a  Council  of  Churches.  And  then  with  respect  to  the 
number  of  Churches  of  which  the  Council  should  consist,  it  was 
v'oted  that  it  should  consist  of  ten  churches. 

"  Then  we  proceeded  to  a  nomination  and  choice  of  particular 
ministers  and  churches,  of  which  the  Council  should  consist.  I  first 
proposed  Mr.  Billings  and  the  church  of  Cold  Spring,  which  were 
voted.  Then  it  was  moved  that  a  Committee  of  the  brethren 
should  be  chosen  to  go  aside,  to  consider  whom  to  nominate  to  tlie 
church  to  be  chosen  on  their  part.  Accordingly  a  committee  was 
chosen,  viz.  Maj.  Pomroy,  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley,  Lieut.  Wright, 
Dea.  Pomroy,  and  Dea.  Cook ;  and  after  they  returned,  we  went 
on  with  the  choice.  On  the  whole,  of  those  whom  I  nominated 
were  chosen  the  following  Ministers,  with  their  churches : 

"  Within  the  County. 

Rev.  Mr.  Reynolds  of  Enfield,  ^ 

Rev.  Mr.  Billings  of  Cold  Spring,      >  with  their  churches ; 

Rev.  Mr.  Abercrombie  of  Pelham,  ) 
and  provisionally,  in  case  either  of  these  should  fail,  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Woodbridge  of  South  Hadley,  and  his  church. 

"  Without  the  County. 
Rev.  Mr.  Foxcroft  of  Boston  >  ^^  ,    -^  churches  • 

Rev.  Mr.  Parkman  of  Westborough,  \  .     ' 

and  provisionally,  in  case  of  the  failure  of  these, 

Rev.  Mr.  Wigglesworth  of  Ipswich  Hamlet,  )  with  their 
Rev.  Mr.  Hobby  of  Reading,  \  churches. 

"  By  the  nomination  of  the  Committee,  were  chosen  on  the  part 
of  the  church. 

Rev.  INIr.  Woodbridge  of  Hatfield,  "^ 

Rev.  Mr.  Breck  of  Springfield, 

Rev.  Mr.  Hubbard  of  Sheffield, 

Rev.  Mr.  Williams  of  Hadley, 

Rev.  Mr.  Ashley  of  Sunderland, 
and  for  a  reserve,  in  case  of  failure  of  either  of  these, 

Rev.  Mr.  Williams  of  Long  Meadow,  >  ^j^^  ^^^  churches; 

Rev.  Mr.  Leavitt  ot  bomers,  ) 

"Then  it  w^as  voted,  That  the  day  for  the  opening  of  the  Coun- 
cil should  be  the  19th  of  June  next. 

"  Then  the  brethren  proceeded  to  choose  a  Committee,  to  be 
their  agents,  to  represent  them,  and  manage  their  cause  before  the 
Council;  and  the  persons  chosen  were  Major  Pomroy,  Lieut. 
Wright,  and  Mr.  Joseph  Hawley. 

'*  Then  the  church  meeting  was  dismissed,  and  the  Precinct 
.meeting  was  opened,  who  determined  to  defray  the  charge  of  en- 


I 


witli  their  churches; 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  399 

tertaining  the  Council;  and  desired  the  Committee  of  the  church 
to  procure  some  person,  either  a  minister  or  a  layman,  to  act  as  an 
advocate  for  the  brethren  and  plead  their  cause  before  the  Council." 

Tlius  far  the  Journal  of  Mr.  Edwards. 

"  Accordingly,"  observes  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  the  churches  were  ap- 
plied to  and  the  Council  was  convened  on  the  19th  of  June.  Nine 
churches  were  represented  by  their  pastors  and  delegates  :  one  of 
those  selected  by  Mr.  Edwards,  that  of  Cold  Spring,  did  not  see 
fit  to  join  the  Council ;  but  the  minister  of  that  church,  being  at 
Northampton,  was  desired  by  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  church  to  sit 
in  council  and  act,  which  he  did.  Yet,  as  there  was  no  delegate 
from  that  church,  the  council  was  not  full ;  and  there  was  a  ma- 
jority of  one  in  the  council  opposed  to  Mr.  Edwards.  After 
they  had  made  some  fruitless  attempts  for  a  composition  between 
the  pastor  and  church,  they  passed  a  resolution,  by  a  majority  of 
one  voice  only,  to  the  following  purpose  :  "  That  it  is  expedient 
that  the  pastoral  relation  between  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  church  be 
immediately  dissolved,  if  the  people  still  persist  in  desiring  it." 
And  it  being  publicly  put  to  the  people,  "Whether  they  still  insisted 
on  Mr.  Edwards's  dismission  from  the  pastoral  office  over  them  ?" 
a  great  majority,  (above  two  hundred  against  twenty,)  voted  for 
his  dismission."  Accordingly  on  tlie  22d  of  June  the  Council  came 
to  the  following  result ; 

"  The  Result  of  a  Council  of  nine  Churches,  met  at  Northampton, 

June  22,  1750;  with  a  Protest  against  the  same,  by  a  number 

of  the  said  Council. 

"  At  a  Council  of  nine  Churches,  viz. 

"  The  church  in  Enfield,  Rev.  Peter  Reynolds,  pastor ;  Mr. 
Edward  Collins,  delegate. 

"Sheffield,  Jonathan  Hubbard,  pastor;  Mr.  Danid  Kellogg, 
delegate. 

"  Sutton,  David  Hall,  pastor ;  Mr.  Jonathan  Hall,  delegate. 

"  Reading,  William  Hobby,  pastor ;  Mr.  Samuel  Bancroft,  de- 
legate. 

"  The  first  church  in  Springfield,  Robert  Breck,  pastor ;  Mr. 
Thomas  Stebbins,  delegate. 

"  Sunderland,  Joseph  Ashley,  pastor ;  Mr.  Samuel  Montague, 
delegate. 

"  Hatfield,  Timothy  Woodbridge,  pastor ;  Oliver  Partridge, 
Esq.  delegate. 

"  The  first  church  in  Hadley,  Chester  Williams,  pastor ;  Mr. 
Enos  Nash,  delegate. 

"  Pelham,  Robert  Abercrombie,  pastor ;  Mr.  Matthew  Gray, 
delegate. 

"  Convened  at  the  call  of  the  first  church  in  Northampton,  to- 


4(X)  LIFE    OF    PRUSIDENT    EDWARDS. 

gether  with  the  elder  of  the  church  in  Cold  Spring,*  added  by  the 
consent  of  both  the  pastor  and  church  of  Northampton,  m  order 
to  advise  to  a  remedy  from  the  calamities,  arising  from  the  unset- 
tled broken  state  of  the  first  church  in  Northampton,  by  reason  of 
a  controversy  subsisting  about  the  qualifications  for  full  communion 
in  the  church. 

"  The  Rev.  Mr.  Hubbard  w^as  chosen  Moderator,  and  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Williams,  Scribe. 

"The  Council,  after  seeking  the  Divine  presence  and  direction,  had 
the  matter  in  controversy  laid  before  them,  and  finding  the  sentiments 
of  the  pastor  and  church,  concerning  the  qualifications  necessary  for 
full  communion,  to  be  diametrically  opposite  to  each  other ;  the 
pastor  insisting  upon  it  as  necessary  to  the  admission  of  members 
to  full  communion,  that  they  should  make  a  profession  of  sanctify- 
ing grace;  whereas  the  brethren  are  of  opinion,  that  tlie  Lord's 
Supper  is  a  converting  ordinance,  and  consequently  that  persons, 
if  they  have  a  competency  of  knowledge,  and  are  of  a  blameless 
life,  may  be  admitted  to  the  Lord's  table,  although  they  make  no 
such  profession  :  And  also  finding  that,  by  reason  of  this  diversity 
of  sentiment,  the  doors  of  the  church  have  been  shut  for  some 
years,  so  that  there  has  been  no  admission  :  And  not  being  able  to 
find  out  any  method,  wherein  the  pastor  and  brethren  can  unite, 
consistent  with  their  own  sentiments,  in  admitting  members  to  full 
communion  :  The  Council  did  then,  according  to  the  desire  of  the 
church,  expressed  in  their  letters-missive,  proceed  to  consider  of 
the  expediency  of  dissolving  the  relation  betw^een  pastor  and  peo- 
ple ;  and,  after  hearing  the  church  upon  it,  and  mature  delibera- 
tion of  the  case,  the  questions  were  put  to  the  members  of  the 
Council  severally ; 

"  1,  Whether  it  be  the  opinion  of  this  Council,  that  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Edwards,  persisting  in  his  principles,  and  the  church  in  theirs  in 
opposition  to  his,  and  insisting  on  a  separation,  it  is  necessary  that 
the  relation  between  pastor  and  people  be  dissolved  ?  Resolved  in 
the  affirmative. 

"2.  Whether  it  be  expedient  that  this  relation  be  immediately 
dissolved?  Passed  in  the  affirmative. 

"  However,  we  take  notice,  that  notwithsthanding  the  unhappy 
dispute  which  has  arisen,  and  so  long  subsisted,  between  the  pastor 
and  church  of  Northampton,  upon  the  point  before  mentioned,  that 
we  have  had  no  other  objection,  against  him,  but  what  relates  to 
his  sentiments  upon  the  point  aforesaid,  laid  before  us :  And  al- 
though we  have  heard  of  some  stories  spread  abroad,  reflecting 
upon  Mr.  Edwards'  sincerity  with  regard  to  the  change  of  his  sen- 
timents about  the  qualifications  for  full  communion ;  yet  we  have 


*  The  Rev.  Mr.  Billing. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  401 

received  full  satisfaction,  that  they  are  false  and  groundless :  And 
although  we  do  not  all  of  us  agree  with  Mr.  Edwards  in  our  senti- 
ments upon  the  point,  yet  we  have  abundant  reason  to  believe,  that 
he  took  much  pains  to  get  light  in  that  matter ;  and  that  he  is  up- 
rightly following  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience,  and  with  great 
pleasure  reflect  upon  the  christian  spirit  and  temper  he  has  discov- 
ered, in  the  unhappy  controversy  subsisting  among  them ;  aud 
think  ourselves  bound  to  testify  our  full  charity  tow^ards  him,  and 
recommend  him  to  any  church  or  people  agreeing  with  him  in  sen- 
timents, as  a  person  eminently  quahfied  for  tlie  work  of  the  Gospel 
ministry. 

"  And  we  would  recommend  it  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  and 
the  first  church  in  Northampton,  to  take  proper  notice  of  the  heavy 
frown  of  Divine  Providence,  in  suffering  them  to  be  reduced  to 
such  a  state  as  to  render  a  separation  necessary,  after  they  have 
lived  so  long  and  amicably  together,  and  been  mutual  blessings  and 
comforts  to  each  other. 

*'  And  now,  recommending  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  and  the 
church  in  Northampton,  to  the  grace  of  God,  we  subscribe, 

"Jonathan  Hubbard,  Moderator, 

"  In  the  name  of  the  Council. 

*^  JVorthamptoTii  June  22,  1750. 

"  A  true  copy,  examined  by 

Chester  Williams,  Scribe. 

The  vote  on  this  result  stood  as  follows  : 

AFFIRMATIVE. 

Pastors. — Jonathan  Hubbard,  Robert  Breck,  Joseph  Ashley, 
Timothy  Woodbridge,  Chester  Williams. 

Delegates. — Daniel  Kellogg,  Thomas  Stebbins,  Samuel  Mon- 
tague, Oliver  Partridge,  Enos  Nash. 

NEGATIVE. 

Factors, — Peter  Reynolds,  David  Hall,  William  Hobby,  Robert 
Abercrombie,  Jonathan  Billing. 

Delegates. — Edward  Collins,  Jonathan  Hall,  Samuel  Bancroft, 
Matthew^  Gray. 

"  The  dissenting  part  of  the  Council  entered  their  protest  against 
tliis  proceeding,  judging  that  it  w^as  too  much  in  a  hurry,  consider- 
ing the  past  conduct  and  present  temper  of  the  people.  And  some 
part  of  the  Council,  who  were  for  the  separation,  expressed  them= 
selves  surprised  at  the  uncommon  zeal  manifested  by  the  people, 
in  their  voting  for  a  dismission  ;  which  evidenced  to  them,  and  all 

Vol.  L  51 


402  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

discerning  spectators,  that  they  were  far  from  a  temper  of  mind, 
becoming  such  a  solemn  and  awful  transaction,  considered  in  all 
its  circumstances." 

The  following  is  the  Protest  of  the  minority  of  the  Council. 

"  PROTEST. 

"  We  cannot  agree  to  the  dismission  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards, 
at  least  for  the  present,  for  the  following  reasons  :  previous  to  which 
we  observe,  that,  though  we  presume  not  to  infringe  the  rights  of 
others'  consciences,  yet  we  beg  leave  to  enjoy  our  own ;  and  be- 
ing sought  to  for  ad\dce  in  the  Council  at  Northampton,  we  are 
constrained  to  say  to  the  church,  that, 

"  1st.  We  disapprove  of  the  separation  of  the  Rev.  IMr.  Edwards 
from  his  people ;  because  that,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing,  there  is 
no  just  cause  therefor ;  his  sentiments  being,  as  we  apprehend, 
perfectly  harmonious  with  the  mind  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
strictly  conformable  with  the  practice  of  the  Apostles,  and  tliat  of 
the  Reformed  Church  in  general  through  the  v.orld  : 

"  2d.  On  the  supposition,  that  Mr.  Edwards  was  in  the  \\Tong 
in  the  present  controversy,  yet  there  is,  as  we  apprehend,  no  pro- 
portion between  the  importance  of  tlie  controversy,  and  that  of  his 
dismission : 

"  3d.  That  it  appears  to  us,  that  there  have  been  no  proper  es- 
says, in  the  way  of  fair  reasoning  with  or  before  the  parties,  to  con- 
vince either  of  them  of  the  truth  or  falseness  of  their  principles ; 
which,  love  to  the  truth  itself  and  their  souls  requires : 

"  4th.  Because  the  church,  or  at  least  its  committee,  while  they 
offer  us  reasons  for  separating  them  from  their  pastor,  yet  will  not 
suffer  us  so  to  enter  into  the  grounds  of  those  reasons,  as  to  offer 
to  them  that  light  Avhich  the  word  of  God  affords :  which  we  es- 
teem an  imposition  upon  our  consciences,  and  which  doth  but  tend 
to  keep  them  in  the  dark. 

"  These,  brethren,  are  some  of  the  reasons,  for  which  we  can 
by  no  means  approve  of  a  separation,  at  least  at  present.  But  if 
such  separation  should  eventually  come  on,  we  bear  a  free  and 
cheerful  testimony  in  favour  of  our  dearly  beloved  brother,  your 
once  dearly  beloved  pastor,  though  now  esteemed  your  enemy,  be- 
cause, as  we  apprehend,  he  has  told  you  the  truth.  He  needs  not, 
indeed,  any  recommendation  of  ours,  which  is  more  properly  a 
commendation  of  ourselves  than  of  him.  Nor  need  we  say  much 
to  others,  for  that  his  praise  is  in  most  of  our  churches  through  the 
land  :  yet  we  are  constrained  to  say  to  the  world,  that  God  has 
furnished  him  with  those  ministerial  gifts  and  graces,  by  which  he 
has  hitherto  shone  as  a  burning  and  shining  light.  And  though  his 
people  in  general  cease  to  rejoice  in  his  light ;  yet  we  hope  and 
trust  others  may  rejoice  in  it,  for  a  long  season.  So,  wishing  tiiat 
the  dear  people  of  God  in  this  place,  may  take  the  point  in  contro- 


LIFE     or    PRESIDENT    KDWARDS.  403 

versy  into  a  meek,  calm,  serious  and  prayerful,  consideration ;  and 
that  so,  peace,  with  truth  and  holiness,  may  greatly  prevail  in  this 
place ; 

"  We  subscribe, 

"  Yours  in  the  bonds  of  the  Gospel, 

Jonathan  Hale,  David  Hall, 

Matthew  Gray,  William  Hobby, 

Samuel  Bancroft,  Edv/ard  Billing, 


Robert  Abercrombie. 


'' JVorthampon,  June  22d,  1750." 


*  N.  B.  This  copy,  though  not  attested  by  the  Scribe,  who  is  at 
an  hundred  miles  distance,  is  yet,  by  a  careful  comparing  of  it  with 
the  original,  which  is  now  in  my  hands,  attested  by  me. 

"William  Hobby." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

Result  of  Council,  and  Protest,  read. — Farewell  Sermon. — Post- 
script  of  Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie. — Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. — 
Letter  to  Mr.  M''  CuUoch. — Marriage  of  two  of  his  daughters. 
— Forbidden  to  preach  at  Korthampton. — Exemplary  conduct 
of  Mr.  Edwards. — Proceedings  of  his  Friends. —  Council. — 
Proceedings  of  Church. — Letter  of  Mr.  Hawley. 

On  Friday  afternoon,  June  22d,  1750,  the  Result  of  the  Coun- 
cil, and  the  Protest  of  the  Minority,  were  publicly  read  to  the  peo- 
ple, assembled  in  the  church.  On  the  next  Sabbath  but  one,  July 
1st,  Mr.  Edwards  delivered  to  them  his  Farewell  Sermon  ; 
which  was  soon  afterwards  published,  at  the  request  of  some  of  the 
hearers.  This  Sermon,  with  the  facts  stated  in  the  Preface,  is  too 
intimately  connected  with  some  of  the  most  important  events  of  his 
life,  and  too  illustrative  of  his  character,  not  to  be  inserted  in  this 
volume  ;*  and  should  be  read  at  this  point  of  the  author's  history. 
It  has  been  extensively  and  deservedly  styled,  "  the  best  Farewell 
Sermon,  that  was  ever  written ;"  and  has  been  the  source,  from 
which  subsequent  discourses,  on  occasions  and  in  circumstances 
generally  similar,  have,  to  a  great  extent,  been  substantially  de- 
rived. Had  it  been  written  hi  the  case  of  an  indifferent  person, 
instead  of  his  o\vn,  it  could  not  have  discovered  less  of  passion,  or 
of  irritation,  or  have  breathed  a  more  calm  and  excellent  spirit. 
Instead  of  indicating  anger  under  a  sense  of  multiplied  injuries,  it 
appears  in  every  sentence,  to  have  been  dictated  by  meekness  and 
forgiveness.  Instead  of  manifesting  the  signs  of  alienation  towards 
his  persecutors  and  enemies,  the  \\Titer  appears  throughout,  to  de- 
sire their  subsequent  prosperity,  as  an  ecclesiastical  community,  and 
their  individual  acquittal  and  acceptance  on  their  final  trial.  At 
the  same  time,  it  presents  an  exhibition  of  the  scenes  of  the  Last 
Judgment,  singularly  solemn  and  awful.  Few  indeed  are  the  com- 
positions, which  furnish  so  many,  or  so  unequivocal,  marks  of  un- 
common excellence  in  their  author ;  and  very  few  are  so  well 
adapted  to  be  practically  useful  to  churches  and  congregations. 

The  following  Postscript  to  the  letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie, f  of  April 
2,  1750,  and  the  letters  to  Mr.  Erskine  and  Mr.  M'Culloch,  all 
written  immediately  after  the  separation  of  Mr.  Edwards  from  his 

*  See  Farewell  Sermon,  at  the  close  of  the  Life. 
•hEor  the  Letter  itself,  see  p.  287. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  405 

people,  exhibit  also,  in  a  very  striking  manner,  the  calm  and  tran- 
quil slate  of  his  mind  at  the  time  when  they  were  written, 

*'P.  S.  July  9,  1750.  Having  had  no  leisure  to  finish  the  pre- 
paration of  my  letters  to  Scotland,  before  this  time,  by  reason  of 
the  extraordinary  troubles,  hurries  and  confusions,  of  my  unusual 
circumstances,  I  can  now  inform  you,  that  the  controversy  between 
me  and  my  people,  which  I  mentioned  in  the  beginning  of  my  let- 
ter, has  issued  in  a  separation.  An  Ecclesiastical  Council  w^as 
called  on  the  affair,  who  sat  here  the  week  before  last,  and  by  a 
majority  of  one  voice  determined  an  immediate  separation  to  be 
necessary ;  and  accordingly  my  pastoral  relation  to  my  people  was 
dissolved,  on  June  22d.  If  I  can  procure  the  printed  accounts 
from  Boston  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Council,  I  will  give  orders 
to  my  friend  there,  to  enclose  them  with  this  letter,  and  direct  them 
to  you. — I  desire  your  prayers,  that  I  may  take  a  suitable  notice  of 
the  frowns  of  heaven  on  me  and  this  people,  between  whom  there 
once  existed  so  great  an  union,  in  bringing  to  pass  such  a  separa- 
tion between  us  ;  that  these  troubles  may  be  sanctified  to  me  ;  that 
God  would  overrule  the  event  for  his  own  glory,  (in  which  doubt- 
less many  adversaries  will  rejoice  and  triumph  ;)  tliat  he  would  open 
a  door  for  my  future  usefulness,  provide  for  me  and  my  numerous 
family,  and  take  a  fatherly  care  of  us  in  our  present  unsettled,  un- 
certain circumstances,  being  cast  on  the  wide  world.         J.  E." 

"  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Erskine. 

^^  JVorthampton,  July  5,  1750. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Brothepw, 

"  I  now  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  three  letters  from  you  since 
I  last  wrote  to  you;  one  of  Sept.  12  ;  another  of  Sept.  20  ;  another 
of  Dec.  22;  all  of  the  year  1749.  The  two  first  1  received  in 
the  winter,  with  Mr.  Glass'  Notes  on  Scripture  Texts,  Ridgeley 
on  Original  Sin,  Wheatley's  Schools  of  the  Prophets,  Davidson's 
Sermon  occasioned  by  the  death  of  Mr.  Harrison,  and  Mr.  M'- 
Kaile's  Sermon.  Your  letter  written  in  December,  I  received  a 
little  w^hile  ago.  I  have  greatly  regretted  the  want  of  opportunity 
to  answer  you,  till  now  :  but  such  have  been  my  extraordinary  cir- 
cumstances, the  multitude  of  distracting  troubles  and  hurries  that  I 
have  been  involved  in,  (w^hich  I  cannot  easily  represent  to  you,) 
that  I  have  had  no  leisure.  I  have  been  very  uneasy  in  neglecting 
to  write  to  my  correspondents  in  Scotland ;  and  about  two  months 
ago  I  set  myself  to  the  business;  but  was  soon  broken  off;  and  have 
not  been  able  to  return  to  it  again,  till  now.  And  now,  my  dear  Sir,  I 
thank  you  for  your  letters  and  presents.  The  books  you  sent  me, 
were  entertaining  to  me,  and  some  of  them  will  be  of  advantage  to 
me,  if  God  should  give  me  opportunity  to  prosecute  the  studies  I 


406  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

had  begun  on  the  Arminlan  Controversy.  There  were  various 
things  pleasing  to  me  in  Glass'  Notes,  tending  to  give  some  new 
light  into  the  sense  of  Scripture.  He  seems  to  be  a  man  of  ability  ; 
though  I  cannot  fall  in  with  all  his  singularities. 

"  The  account  you  say  Mr.  Davidson  gave  of  the  absurdities  of 
the  Moravians,  are  not  very  surprising  to  me  :  I  have  seen,  here 
in  America,  so  much  of  the  tendency  and  issue  of  such  kind  of 
notions,  and  such  sort  of  religion,  as  are  in  vogue  among  them,  and 
among  others  in  many  respects  like  them,  that  I  expect  no  other 
than  that  sin,  folly,  absurdity,  and  things  to  the  last  degree  re- 
proachful to  Christianity,  will  forever  be  the  consequence  of  such 
things.  It  seems  to  me,  that  enough  and  enough  of  this  kind  has 
lately  appeared,  greatly  to  aw^aken  the  attention  of  christian  divines, 
and  make  them  suspect  that  the  devil's  de\dces  in  the  various  coun- 
terfeits of  vital,  experimental  religion,  have  not  been  sufficiently 
attended  to,  and  the  exact  distinctions  between  the  saving  opera- 
tions of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  its  false  appearances,  not  sufficiently 
observed.  There  is  something  now  in  the  press  in  Boston,  largely 
handling  the  subject.  I  have  had  opportunity  to  read  the  MS. 
and,  in  my  humble  opinion,  it  has  a  tendency  to  give  as  much  light  in 
this  matter,  as  any  thing  that  ever  I  saw.  It  was  written  by  Mr.  Bel- 
lamy, minister  of  Bethlehem,  in  Connecticut ;  the  minister  whom 
Mr.  Brainerd  sometimes  speaks  of  as  his  peculiarly  dear  and  inti- 
mate friend,  (as  possibly  you  may  have  observed,  in  reading  his 
Life.)  He  was  of  about  Mr.  Brainerd's  age  ;  and  it  might  have 
been  well,  if  he  had  had  more  years  over  his  head.  But  as  he  is 
one  of  the  most  intimate  friends  that  I  have  in  tlie  world,  and  one 
that  I  have  much  acquaintance  with,  I  can  say  this  of  him  ;  that  he 
is  one  of  very  great  experience  in  religion,  as  to  what  has  passed 
between  God  and  his  own  soul ;  one  of  very  good  natural  abilities, 
of  closeness  of  thought,  of  extraordinary  diligence  in  his  studies, 
and  earnest  care  exactly  to  know  the  truth  in  these  matters.  He 
has  long  applied  his  mind  to  the  subject  he  has  wTote  upon,  and 
used  all  possible  helps,  of  conversation  and  reading.  And  though 
his  style  is  not  such  as  is  like  to  please  the  polite  world  ;  yet  if  his 
youth,  and  the  obscurity  of  his  original,  and  the  place  that  he  lives 
in,  etc.,  do  not  prevent  his  being  much  taken  notice  of,  I  am  per- 
suaded his  book  might  serve  to  give  the  church  of  God  considera- 
ble light  as  to  the  nature  of  true  religion,  and  many  important  doc- 
trines of  Christianity.  From  the  knowledge  I  have  of  him,  I  am 
fully  satisfied  that  his  aim  in  this  publication  is  not  his  ovvn  fame  and 
reputation  in  the  world  ;  but  the  glory  of  God  and  the  advancement 
of  the  kingdom  of  his  Redeemer. 

"  I  suspect  the  follies  of  some  of  the  Seceders,  which  you  men- 
tion in  both  your  letters  of  Sept.  20,  and  Dec.  22,  arise  in  conside- 
rable measure,  from  the  same  cause  with  the  follies  of  the  Mora- 
vians, and  the  followers  of  the  Wesleys,  and  many  extravagant 


LIFK    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  407 

people  in  America,  viz.  false  religion,  counterfeit  conversions,  and 
the  want  of  a  genuine  renovation  of  the  spirit  of  their  minds.  I  say 
as  to  many  of  them,  not  to  condemn  all  in  the  gross.  The  spirit 
seems  to  be  exactly  the  same  with  what  appears  in  many,  wiio  ap- 
parently, by  their  own  account,  have  had  a  false  conversion.  I  am 
a  great  enemy  to  censoriousness,  and  have  opposed  it  very  much 
in  my  preaching  and  wiitings.  But  yet  I  think  we  should  avoid 
that  bastard,  mischievous  charity,  by  which  Satan  keeps  men  asleep, 
and  hides  their  eyes  from  those  snares,  and  crafty  works  of  his, 
which  it  is  of  the  utmost  consequence  to  the  church  of  God  to  dis- 
cern and  be  aware  of;  and  by  which,  for  want  of  their  being  dis- 
covered, the  devil  has  often  had  his  greatest  advantages  against  the 
interest  of  religion.  The  Scriptures  often  lead  us  to  judge  of  true 
religion,  and  the  gracious  sincerity  of  professors,  by  the  genius,  the 
temper  and  spirit,  of  their  religion  :  Jam.  iii.  17.  Eph.  v.  9.  Gal. 
V.  19,  25.  1  Col.  xiii.  4,  etc.  Rom.  viii.  9.  1  John  iv.  16.  John 
xiii.  35.  1  John  ii.  10.  1  John  iii.  14  and  18,  19,  and  23,  24. 
chap.  iv.  7.  v.  12,  13,  and  very  many  other  places.  I  have  been 
greatly  grieved  at  a  spirit  of  censoriousness ;  but  yet  I  heartily  \vish 
that  some  sorts  of  charity  were  utterly  abolished. 

"  The  accounts  you  give  of  Archbishop  Herring,  of  the  moderate, 
generous,  truly  catholic  and  christian  principles  appearing  in  him, 
and  some  other  of  the  dignified  clergy,  and  other  persons  of  dis- 
tinction in  the  Church  of  England,  are  very  agreeable.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  these  things  are  forerunners  of  something  good  and  great 
to  be  brought  to  pass  for  the  church  of  God. 

"  I  have  seen  some  accounts  in  our  public  prints,  published  here 
in  America,  of  those  conversions  and  baptisms  in  the  Russian  em- 
pire, which  you  mention  in  your  last  letter  ;  and  should  be  glad  of 
further  information  about  that  matter.  We  have  had  published 
here,  an  extract  of  a  letter,  written  by  Dr.  Doddridge  to  Mr.  Pear- 
sail  of  Taunton,  in  Somersetshire,  and  transmitted  by  him  to  Bos- 
ton, in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Prince  ;  giving  a  surprising  account  of  a  very 
w^onderful  person,  a  German  by  nation,  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel 
to  the  Jews,  lately  in  London ;  w^hom  he,  (Dr.  Doddridge,)  saw 
and  conversed  with,  and  heard  preach  (or  rather  repeat)  a  sermon 
there  ;  who  had  had  great  success  in  preaching  to  those  miserable 
people  in  Germany,  Poland,  Holland,  Lithuania,  Hungary,  and 
other  parts  ;  God  having  so  blessed  his  labours  that,  in  the  various 
parts,  through  which  he  had  travelled,  he  had  been  the  instrument 
of  the  conversion  of  about  six  hundred  Jews  ;  many  of  whom  are 
expressing  their  great  concern  to  bring  others  of  their  brethren  to 
the  knowdedge  of  the  great  and  blessed  Redeemer,  and  beseech- 
ing him  to  instruct  their  children,  that  they  may  preach  Christ  also. 
Lshould  be  glad,  if  you  hear  any  thing  further  of  the  affair,  to  be 
informed  of  it  by  you.  I  think  such  things  may  well  be  improved 
to  animate  and  encourage  those  who  have  engaged  in  the  Concert 


408  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

for  Prayer,  for  the  Reviving  of  Religion.  I  rejoice  to  hear  what 
you  write  of  some  appearances  of  awakening  in  Mr.  Gillies'  church 
in  Glasgow,  and  if  it  continues  should  be  glad  to  be  informed. 

"I  am  very  glad  to  hear  of  w^hat  Mr.  McLaurin  informs  me  of  the 
encouragements  likely  to  be  given  from  Scotland  to  New  Jersey  Col- 
lege ;  a  very  hopeful  society ;  and  I  believe  what  is  done  for  that 
Seminary  is  doing  good  in  an  eminent  manner.  Mr.  McLaurin 
tells  me  of  some  prospect  of  your  being  removed  to  a  congregation 
in  Edinburgh,  which  I  am  pleased  with,  because  I  hope  there  you 
will  act  in  a  larger  sphere,  and  will  have  more  opportunity  to  exert 
the  disposition  that  appears  in  you,  to  promote  good  public  designs 
for  Zion's  prosperity. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  concern  you  manifest  for  me  under  my 
difficulties  and  troubles,  by  reason  of  the  controversy  between  me 
and  my  people,  about  the  terms  of  christian  communion. 

"  This  controversy  has  now  had  that  issue  which  I  expected ;  it 
has  ended  in  a  separation  between  me  and  my  people.  Many 
things  have  appeared,  that  have  been  exceedingly  unhappy  and 
uncomfortable  in  the  course  of  this  controversy.  The  great  power 
of  prejudices  from  education,  established  custom,  and  the  traditions 
of  ancestors  and  certain  admired  teachers,  and  the  exceedingly  un- 
happy influence  of  bigotry,  has  remarkably  appeared  in  the  ma- 
nagement of  this  affair.  The  spirit,  that  has  actuated  and  engaged 
my  people  in  this  matter,  is  evidently  the  same,  that  has  appeared  in 
your  own  people  in  their  opposition  to  winter  communions,  but  only 
risen  to  a  much  higher  degree  ;  and  some  of  the  arguments,  that 
have  been  greatly  insisted  on  here,  have  been  very  much  of  the 
same  sort  with  some  of  those  urged  by  your  people  in  your  affair. 
There  have  been  many  things  said  and  done,  during  our  contro- 
versy, that  I  shall  not  now  declare.  But  would  only  say,  in  the 
general,  that  there  has  been  that  prejudice,  and  spirit  of  jealousy, 
and  increasing  engagedness  of  spirit  and  fixedness  of  resolution,  to 
gain  the  point  in  view,  viz.  my  dismission  from  my  pastoral  office 
over  them,  upheld  and  cherished  by  a  persuasion  that  herein  they 
only  stood  for  the  truth  and  did  their  duty,  that  it  has  been  an  ex- 
ceedingly difficult  thing  for  me  to  say  or  do  any  thing  at  all,  in 
order  to  their  being  enlightened,  or  brought  to  a  more  calm  and  se- 
date consideration  of  things,  without  its  being  misinterpreted,  and 
turned  to  an  occasion  of  increasing  jealousy  and  prejudice  ;  even 
those  things  wherein  I  have  yielded  most,  and  done  most  to  gratify 
the  people,  and  assuage  their  spirits,  and  win  their  charity.  I  have 
often  declared  to  the  people,  and  gave  it  to  them  under  my  hand, 
that  if,  after  all  proper  means  used  and  regular  steps  taken,  they 
continued  averse  to  remaining  under  my  ministry,  I  had  no  inclina- 
tion to  do  any  thing,  as  attempting  to  oblige  them  to  it.  But  I 
looked  on  myself  bound  in  conscience,  before  I  left  them,  (as  I  was 
afraid  they  were  in  the  way  to  ruin,)  to  do  my  endeavour,  that  pro- 


LIFE    05"    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  409 

per  means  should  be  used  to  bring  them  to  a  suitable  temper,  and  so 
to  a  capacit}^  of  proceeding  considerately  and  with  their  eyes  open  ; 
properly,  and  calmly,  and  prayerfully  examining  the  point  in  con- 
troversy, and  also  weighing  the  consequences  of  things.  To  this 
end  I  have  insisted  much  on  an  impartial  Council,  in  which  should 
be  some  of  the  elderly  ministers  of  tlie  land,  to  look  fully  into  our 
state,  and  view  it  with  ail  its  circumstances,  with  full  liberty  to  give 
both  me  and  them  such  advice  as  they  should  think  requisite  and  pro- 
per. And  therefore  I  insisted,  that  the  Council  should  not  wholly 
consist  of  ministers  and  churches,  that  were  professedly  against  me. 
in  the  point  in  coiitroversy ;  and  that  it  should  not  consist  wholly  of 
ministers  and  churches  of  this  neighbourhood,  who  were  almost  al- 
together in  opposition  to  me ;  but  that  some  should  be  brought 
from  abroad.  This  I  also  insisted  on,  as  I  thought  it  most  likely 
an  impartial  Council  would  do  me  justice,  in  the  pubhc  representa- 
tion they  w^ould  make  of  our  affairs,  in  their  result.  The  people 
insisted  that  the  Council  should  be  wholly  of  the  neighbourhood  : 
undoubtedly  because  they  supposed  themselves  most  sure,  that  their 
judgment  and  advice  would  be  favourable  and  agreeable  to  them. 
I  stood  the  more  against  it,  because  in  this  country  we  have  no  such 
thing  as  appeals  from  one  Council  to  another,  from  a  lesser  to  a 
larger;  and  also,  because  the  neighbouring  ministers  w-ere  all 
youngerly  men.  These  things  were  long  the  subject  matter  of  un- 
comfortable troubles  and  contests.  Many  were  the  proposals  I 
made.  At  last  they  complied  with  this  proposal,  (after  great  and 
long  continued  opposition  to  it,)  viz.  That  I  should  nominate  two 
churches  to  be  of  the  Council,  who  w^ere  not  within  the  bounds  of 
this  county.  And  so  it  was  agreed  that  a  Council  of  ten  churches 
should  be  called,  mutually  chosen  ;  and  that  two  of  my  half  should 
be  called  from  abroad.  I  might  have  observed  before,  that  there 
was  a  great  and  long  dispute  about  the  business  of  the  Council,  or  what 
should  be  left  to  them  :  and  particularly,  whether  it  should  be  left 
to  them,  or  they  should  have  liberty,  to  give  us  what  advice  they 
pleased  for  a  remedy  from  our  calamities.  This  I  insisted  on,  not 
that  I  desired  that  v.e  should  bind  ourselves  beforehand  to  stand  to 
their  advice,  let  it  be  wiiat  it  would ;  but  I  thought  it  absurd  to  tie 
up  and  limit  the  Council,  that  they  should  not  exercise  their  own 
judgment,  and  give  us  their  advice,  according  to  their  own  mind. 
The  people  were  willing  the  Council  should  make  proposals  for  an 
accommodation  ;  but  that,  if  they  did  not  like  them,  the  Council 
should  be  obliged  immediately  to  separate  us,  and  would  not  have 
them  have  any  liberty  to  advise  to  wait  longer,  or  use  any 
further  means  for  light,  or  to  take  any  further  or  other  course  for  a 
remedy  from  our  calamities.  At  last  a  vote  was  passed  in  these 
w^ords, — "  That  a  Council  should  be  called  to  give  us  their  last  ad- 
vice, for  a  remedy  from  the  calamities  arising  from  the  present  un- 
settled, broken  state  of  the  church,  by  reason  of  the  controversy 
Vol.  T.  5^ 


410  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARD?. 

here  subsisting,  concerning  the  Qualifications  for  full  communion 
in  tlie  church  :  and,  if  upon  the  whole  of  what  they  see  and  find  in 
our  circumstances,  they  judge  h  best  that  pastor  and  people  be  imme- 
diately separated,  that  they  proceed  to  dissolve  the  relation  between 
them."  Accordingly  a  Council  was  agreed  upon,  to  meet  here  on 
this  business,  on  June  19th.  I  nominated  two  out  of  this  county, 
of  which  Mr.  Foxcroft's  church  in  Boston  was  one.  But  otliers 
were  nominated  provisionally,  in  case  these  should  fail.  Those  that 
came,  Vvcre  Mr.  Hall's  church  of  Sutton  and  Mr.  Hobby's  church 
in  Reading.  One  of  the  churches  that  I  nominated  within  the 
count}',  refused  to  send  a  delegate,  viz.  Mr.  Billing's  church  of 
Cold  Spring.  However  Mr.  Billing  himself,  (though  with  some 
difficulty,)  v.^as  admitted  into  the  Council.  The  people,  in  mana- 
ging this  affair  on  their  side,  have  made  chief  use  of  a  young  gen- 
tleman of  liberal  education  and  notable  abilities,  and  a  fluent  spea- 
kerj  of  about  seven  or  eight  and  twenty  years  of  age,  my  grandfa- 
ther Stoddard's  grandson,  being  my  mother's  sister's  son,  a  man  of 
lax  principles  in  religion,  falling  in,  in  some  essential  things,  with 
Arminians,  and  is  very  open  and  bold  in  it.  He  was  improved  as 
one  of  the  agents  for  the  church,  and  was  their  chief  spokesman 
before  the  Council.  He  very  strenuously  urged  before  the  Coun- 
cil the  necessit}'  of  an  immediate  separation ;  and  I,  knowing  the 
church,  the  most  of  them,  to  be  inflexibly  bent  on  this  event,  informed 
the  Council  that  I  should  not  enter  into  the  dispute,  but  should  refer 
the  matter  wholly  to  the  Council's  judgment;  I  signified,  that  I  had 
no  desire  to  leave  my  people,  on  any  other  consideration,  than  their 
aversion  to  my  being  their  minister  any  longer ;  but,  they  continu- 
ing so  averse,  had  no  inclination  or  desire  that  they  should  be  com- 
pelled ;  but  yet  should  refer  myself  to  their  advice.  When  the 
church  was  convened,  in  order  to  the  Council's  knowing  their  minds 
with  respect  to  my  continuance,  about  twenty-three  appeared  for  it, 
others  staid  away,  choosing  not  to  act  either  way  ;  but  the  genera- 
lity of  the  church,  which  consists  of  about  230  male  members,  vo- 
ted for  my  dismission.  My  dismission  was  carried  in  the  Council 
by  a  majority  of  one  voice.  The  ministers  were  equally  divided  ;  but 
of  the  delegates,  one  more  was  for  it  than  against  it,  and  it  so  hap- 
pened that  all  those  of  the  Council,  who  came  from  the  churches  of  the 
people's  choosing,  voted  for  my  dismission  ;  but  all  those  who  came 
from  the  churches  that  I  chose,  were  against  it,  and  there  happening 
to  be  one  fewer  of  these  than  of  the  other,  by  the  church  of  Cold 
Spring  not  sending  a  delegate,  (which  was  through  that  people's 
prejudice  against  my  opinion,)  the  vote  was  carried  that  way,  by  the 
vote  of  one  delegate.  However,  on  the  22d  of  the  last  month,  the 
relation  between  me  and  this  people  was  dissolved.  1  suppose  that 
the  result  of  the  Council,  and  the  protestation  of  some  of  [the 
members  are  printed  in  Boston  by  this  time.  I  shall  endeavour  to 
procure  one  of  ihe  printed  accounts,  to  be  sent  with  this  letter  to 


XIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EBWARDS.  41 J 

you,  together  with  one  of  my  books,  on  the  point  that  has  been  in 
controversy  between  me  and  my  people.  Two  of  the  members  of 
tlie  Council,  who  dissented  from  the  result,  yet  did  not  sign  the 
protestation,  vdz.  Mr.  Reynolds  and  his  delegate,  which  I  suppose 
was  owing  to  Mr.  Reynolds'  extraordinarily  cautious  and  timorous 
temper.  The  last  sabbath  I  preached  my  farewell  sermon.  Many 
in  the  congregation  seemed  to  be  much  affected,  and  some  are  ex- 
ceedingly grieved.  Some  few,  I  believe,  have  some  relentings  of 
heart,  that  voted  me  away.  But  there  is  no  great  probability  that 
the  leading  part  of  the  church  will  ever  change.  Beside  their  own 
fixedness  of  resoludon,  there  are  many  in  the  neighbouring  towns 
to  support  their  resolution ;  both  in  the  ministry  and  civil  magistracy ; 
without  whose  influence  I  believe  the  people  never  would  have 
been  so  violent  as  they  have  been. 

"  I  desire  tliat  such  a  time  of  awful  changes,  dark  clouds,  and 
great  frowns  of  heaven  on  me  and  my  people,  may  be  a  time  of 
serious  consideration,  thorough  self-reflection  and  examination,  and 
deep  humiliation  with  me.  I  desire  your  fe indent  prayers  for  me, 
and  for  those  who  have  heretofore  been  my  people.  I  know  not  what 
will  become  of  them.  There  seems  to  be  the  utmost  danger,  that 
the  younger  generation  will  be  carried  away  with  Arminianism,  as 
with  a  flood.  The  young  gentleman  I  spoke  of,  is  high  in  their 
esteem,  and  is  become  the  most  leading  man  in  the  town  ;  and  is 
very  bold  in  declaiming  and  disputing  for  his  opinions ;  and  we 
have  none  able  to  confront  and  withstand  him  in  dispute  ;  and  some 
of  the  young  people  already  show  a  disposition  to  fall  in  with  his 
notions.  And  it  is  not  likely  that  the  people  will  obtain  paiy  young 
gendeman  of  Calvinistic  sentiments,  to  settle  with  them  in  the 
ministry,  who  will  have  courage  and  ability  to  make  head  agamst 
him.  And  as  to  the  older  people,  there  never  appeared  so  great 
an  indifference  among  them,  about  things  of  this  nature.  They 
will  at  present  be  much  more  likely  to  be  thorough  in  their  care  to 
settle  a  minister  of  principles  contrary  to  mine,  as  to  terms  of  com- 
munion, than  to  settle  one  that  is  sound  in  die  doctrines  of  grace. 
The  great  concern  of  the  leading  part  of  the  town,  at  present,  v\ill 
probably  be,  to  come  off  with  flying  colours,  in  the  issue  of  the  con- 
troversy they  have  had  with  rae,  and  of  what  they  have  done  in  it ; 
for  which  they  know  many  condemn  them. 

"  An  end  is  put,  for  the  present,  by  these  troubles,  to  the  stu- 
dies I  was  before  engaged  in,  and  my  design  in  wTiting  against  Ar- 
minianism. I  had  made  considerable  preparation,  and  was  deeply 
engaged  in  the  prosecution  of  this  design,  before  I  was  rent  off  from 
it  by  these  difliculties,  and  if  ever  God  should  give  me  opportunity, 
I  would  again  resume  that  affiiir.  But  I  am  now,  as  it  were,  thrown 
upon  the  wide  ocean  of  the  world,  and  know  not  what  will  become 
of  me,  and  my  numerous  and  chargeable  family.     Nor  have  I  any 


412  LIFE    OF    I'KESTDENT    EDWAJlDS. 

particular  door  in  view,  that  I  depend  upon  to  be  opened  for  my 
future  serviceableness.  Most  places  in  New-England,  that  want  a 
minister,  would  not  be  forward  to  invite  one  v.ith  so  chargeable  a 
family,  nor  one  so  far  advanced  in  years— being  46  the  5th  day 
of  last  October.  I  am  fitted  for  no  other  business  but  study.  I 
should  make  a  poor  hand  at  getting  a  living  by  any  secular  employ- 
ment. We  are  in  the  hands  of  God ;  and  I  bless  him,  I  am  not 
anxious  concerning  his  disposal  of  us.  I  hope  I  shall  not  distrust 
him,  nor  be  unwilling  to  submit  to  his  will.  And  I  have  cause  of 
thankfulness,  that  there  seems  also  to  be  such  a  disposition  in  my 
family.  You  are  pleased,  dear  Sir,  very  kindly  to  ask  me,  whe- 
ther I  could  sign  the  Westminster  Confession  of  Faith,  and  submit 
to  the  Presbyterian  form  of  Church  Government ;  and  to  offer  to 
use  your  influence  to  procure  a  call  for  me,  to  some  congregation 
in  Scotland.  1  should  be  very  ungrateful,  if  I  were  not  thankful 
for  such  kindness  and  friendship.  As  to  my  subscribing  to  the 
substance  of  the  Westminster  Confession,  there  would  be  no  difii- 
culty ;  and  as  to  the  Presbyterian  Government,  I  have  long  been 
perfectly  out  of  conceit  of  our  unsettled,  independent,  confused 
way  of  church  government  in  this  land  ;  and  the  Presbyterian  way 
has  ever  appeared  to  me  most  agreeable  to  the  word  of  God,  and 
the  reason  and  nature  of  things ;  though  I  cannot  say  that  I  think,  that 
the  Presbyterian  government  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  is  so  perfect, 
that  it  cannot,  in  some  respects,  be  mended.  But  as  to  my  removing, 
with  my  numerous  family,  over  the  Atlantic,  it  is,  I  acknowledge,  at- 
tended with  many  difhculties,  that  I  shrink  at.  Among  other  things, 
this  is  very  considerable,  that  it  would  be  on  uncertainties,  whether 
my  gifts  and  administrations  would  suit  any  congregation,  that  should 
send  for  me  without  trial ;  and  so  great  a  thing,  as  such  a  removal, 
had  need  to  be  on  some  certainty  as  to  that  matter.  If  the  expec- 
tations of  a  congregation  were  so  great,  and  they  were  so  confident 
of  my  qualifications,  as  to  call  me  at  a  venture,  ha\ing  never  seen 
nor  heard  me ;  their  disappointment  might  possibly  be  so  much  the 
greater,  and  they  the  more  uneasy,  after  acquaintance  and  trial.  My 
own  countiy  is  not  50  dear  to  me,  but  that,  if  there  were  an  evident 
prospect  of  being  more  serviceable  to  Zion's  interests  elsewhere, 
I  could  forsake  it.  And  I  think  my  wife  is  fully  of  this  dispo- 
sition. 

"  I  forgot  to  mention,  that,  in  this  evil  time  in  Northampton, 
there  are  some  of  the  young  i)eople  under  awakenings  ;  and  I  hope 
two  or  three  have  lately  been  converted  :  two  very  lately,  besides 
two  or  three  hopefully  brought  home  the  last  year. 

"  My  wife  and  family  join  vvith  me  in  most  respectful  and  cordial 
salutations  to  you,  and  your  consort ;  and  we  desire  the  prayers  of 
you  both  for  us,  under  our  present  circumstances.  My  youngest 
child  but  one  has  long  been  in  a  very  infirm,  afflicted  and  decagons;, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


413 


State  with  the  rickets,  and  some  other  disorders.     I  desire  your 
prayers  for  it. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"Your  most  affectionate  and  obliged 
"  Friend  and  brother, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

"P.  S.  For  accounts  of  the  state  of  religion  in  America,  and 
3ome  reasons  of  my  conduct  in  this  controversy  with  my  people,  I 
must  refer  you  to  my  letters  to  Mr.  Robe,  and  Mr.  M'Laurin." 

"  To  die  Rev.  Mr.  M'Culloch." 

^^  jSCorthampton,  July  6,  1750. 

*'  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  It  is  now  long,  since  I  have  received  a  letter  from  you  :  the 
last  was  dated  March  10,  1749.  However,  you  having  heretofore 
manifested  that  our  correspondence  was  not  unacceptable  to  you,  I 
would  not  omit  to  do  my  part  towards  the  continuance  of  it.  Per- 
haps one  reason  of  your  neglecting  to  write,  may  be  the  failing  of 
such  agreeable  matter  for  correspondence,  as  we  had  some  years 
ago,  when  religion  was  flourishing  in  Scotland  and  America,  and 
w^e  had  joyful  information  to  give  each  other,  of  things  pertaining 
to  tlie  City  of  our  God.  It  is  indeed  now  a  sorrowful  time,  on  tliis 
side  of  the  ocean.  Iniquity  abounds,  and  the  love  ol  many  waxes 
cold.  IMultitudes  of  fair  and  high  professors,  in  one  place  and  ano- 
ther, have  sadly  backslidden ;  sinners  are  desperately  hardened ; 
experimental  religion  is  more  than  ever  out  of  credit,  Vvith  the  far 
greater  part;  and  the  doctrines  of  grace,  and  those  principles  in  reh- 
gion  that  do  chiefly  concern  the  povv  er  of  godliness,  are  far  more  than 
ever  discarded.  Arminianism,  and  Pelagianism,  have  made  a 
strange  progress  vrithin  a  few  years.  The  Church  of  England,  in 
'New-England,  is,  I  suppose,  treble  of  what  it  was  seven  years  ago. 
Many  professors  are  gone  off  to  great  lengths  in  enthusiams  ^  and 
extravagance,  in  their  notions  and  practices.  Great  contentions, 
separations  and  confusions,  in  our  religious  state,  prevail  in  many 
parts  of  the  land.  Some  of  our  main  pillars  are  broken ;  one  of 
which  was  Mr.  V/ebb  of  Boston,  who  died  in  the  latter  part  of  last 
April.  Much  of  the  glory  of  the  town  of  Boston  is  gone  with  him  ; 
and  if  the  bereavements  of  that  town  should  be  added  to,  by  the 
death  of  tv/o  or  three  more  of  their  remaining  elder  ministers,  that 
place  would  be  in  a  very  sorrov/ful  state  indeed,  like  a  city  whose 
walls  are  broken  down,  and  like  a  large  flock  without  a  shepherd, 
encompassed  with  wolves,  and  many  in  the  midst  of  it. 

"  These  are  the  dark  things  that  appear.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
there  are  some  things  that  have  a  different  aspect.  There  have  in 
some  places  appeared  revivals  of  religion.     Some  litde  revi\ings 


414  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS,' 

Iiave  been  in  some  places  towards  Boston.  There  has  been  some 
reformation,  not  long  since,  in  one  of  our  Colleges.  And  by  what 
I  hear,  there  has  been  much  more  of  this  nature  in  some  other 
parts  of  British  America,  than  in  New-England :  sometliing 
considerable  in  several  towns  on  Long  Island ;  and  also  in  some 
other  parts  of  the  province  of  New- York,  near  Bedford  river; 
something  in  several  parts  of  New-Jersey,  particularly  through  the 
labours  of  ]Mr.  Greenman,  a  young  gentleman  educated  by  the 
charitable  expenses  of  the  pious  and  eminent  Mr.  David  Brainerd, 
mentioned  in  his  life  ;  which  I  think  I  sent  to  you  the  last  summer. 
And  since  I  last  wrote  to  Scotland,  I  have  had  accounts  of  the  pre- 
vailing of  a  religious  concern  in  some  parts  of  Virginia. 

"  And  I  must  not  forget  to  inform  you,  that,  although  I  think  it 
has  of  late  been  the  darkest  time  in  Northampton,  that  ever  was 
since  the  tovvn  stood,  yet  there  have  been  some  overturnings  on  the 
minds  of  some  of  the  young  people  here,  and  two  or  three  instan- 
ces of  hopeful  conversion  the  last  summer,  and  as  many  very 
lately. 

"  When  I  speak  of  its  being  a  dark  time  here,  I  have  a  special 
reference  to  the  great  controversy  that  has  subsisted  here,  for 
about  a  year  and  a  half,  between  me  and  my  people,  about  the 
forms  of  communion  in  the  ^^sible  church ;  which  has  even  at 
iength  issued  in  a  separation  between  me  and  my  people ;  for  a 
more  particular  account  of  which,  I  must  refer  you  to  my  letters  to 
Mr.  Robe  and  Mr.  Erskine. — Besides,  I  shall  endeavour  to  pro- 
cure the  printed  copies  of  the  Result  of  the  Council,  that  sat  here 
the  week  before  last,  with  the  Protestation  of  some  of  the  members, 
that  these  may  be  sent  to  you  with  this  letter,  together  with  one  of 
my  books,  published  on  the  point  in  debate  between  me  and  my 
people  ;  of  which  I  crave  your  acceptance. 

"  I  am  now  separated  from  the  people,  between  whom  and  me 
there  was  once  the  greatest  union.  Remarkable  is  the  Providence 
of  God  in  this  matter.  In  this  event,  we  have  a  striking  instance 
of  the  instability  and  uncertainty  of  all  things  here  below.  The 
dispensation  is  indeed  awful  in  many  respects,  calling  for  serious 
reflection,  and  deep  humiliation,  in  me  and  my  people.  The  ene- 
my, far  and  near,  will  now  triumph ;  but  God  can  overrule  all  for 
his  own  glory.  I  have  now  nothing  visible  to  depend  upon  for 
my  future  usefulness,  or  the  subsistence  of  my  numerous  family. 
But  I  hope  we  have  an  all-sufficient,  faithful,  covenant  God,  to  de- 
pend upon.  I  desire  that  I  may  ever  submit  to  him,  walk  humbly 
before  him,  and  put  my  trust  wholly  in  him.  I  desire,  dear  Sir, 
your  prayers  for  us,  under  our  present  circumstances. 
"  I  am,  Sir,  your  respectful 

"  and  affectionate  friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

"  P.  S.  My  wife  and  family  jom  with  me,  in  cordial  salutations 
to  you  and  vours." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARjDS.  415 

On  the  11th  of  June,  Mr.  Edwards  married  his  eldest  daughter, 
Sarah,  to  Elihtj  Parsons,  Esquire,  and  on  the  8th  of  November, 
his  fourth  daughter,  Mary,  to  Timothy  Dwight,  Esquire,  both  of 
Northampton. 

After  iVIr.  Edwards  was  dismissed  from  his  people,  several 
months  elapsed,  before  he  received  any  proposals  of  settlement. 
During  this  interval,  the  Committee  of  the  Church  found  it  very 
difficult  to  procure  a  regular  supply  of  the  pulpit.  When  no  other 
preacher  could  be  procured,  Mr.  Edwards  u  as  for  a  time  applied 
to  by  the  Committee,  to  preach  for  them  ;  but  always  with  appa- 
rent reluctance,  and  only  for  the  given  Sabbath.  He  alludes  to 
these  circumstances,  in  the  following  letter  ;  in  which  the  reader 
will  find,  that  he  was  a  decided  advocate  for  the  celebration  of  the 
Lord's  Supper,  every  Lord's  day. 

Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. 

^^  JVorthampton,  JVov.  15,  1750. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Some  time  in  July  last  I  WTOte  to  you,  and  ordered  one  of  my 
books,  on  the  Qualifications  for  Connnunion  in  the  Church,  to  be 
sent  to  you  from  Boston,  with  the  letter.  In  my  letter,  I  informed 
you  of  what  had  come  to  pass,  in  the  issue  of  the  late  controversy 
between  me  and  my  people,  in  the  dissolution  of  my  pastoral  rela- 
tion to  them  ;  and  ordered  the  printed  Result  of  the  Ecclesiastical 
Council,  that  sat  on  our  affairs,  and  the  Protest  against  the  said  Re- 
sult, to  be  put  up  whh  the  letter ;  and  also,  at  the  same  time,  sent 
letters  to  my  other  correspondents  in  Scotland,  with  the  books,  etc. 
I  have  as  yet  had  no  call  to  any  stated  business  elsewhere  in  the 
ministry ;  although,  of  late,  there  has  been  some  prospect  of  my 
having  invitations  to  one  or  two  places.  The  people  of  Northamp- 
ton are  hitherto  destitute  of  a  minister.  They  have  exerted  them- 
selves very  much,  to  obtain  some  candidate  to  come  and  preach  to 
them  on  probation,  and  have  sent  to  many  different  places ;  biit 
have  hitherto  been  disappointed,  and  seem  to  be  very  much  non- 
plussed. But  the  major  part  of  them  seem  to  continue  without  any 
relenting,  or  misgi\ing  of  heart,  concerning  what  has  been  done : 
at  least  the  major  part  of  the  leading  men  in  the  congregation. 
But  there  is  a  number,  whose  hearts  are  broken  at  what  has  come 
to  pass ;  and  I  believe  are  more  deeply  affected,  than  ever  they 
were  at  any  temporal  bereavement.  It  is  thus  with  one  of  the 
principal  men  in  the  parish,  viz.  Col.  Dwight ;  and  another  of  our 
principal  men,  viz.  Dr.  Mather,  adheres  very  much  to  me ;  and 
there  are  more  women  of  this  sort,  than  men,  and  I  doubt  not  but 
there  is  a  number,  who  in  their  hearts  are  with  me,  who  durst  not 
appear,  by  reason  of  the  great  resolution,  and  high  hand,  with  which 
things  are  carried  in  the  opposition,  by  the  prevailing  part.     Such 


416  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

is  the  state  of  things  among  us,  that  a  person  cannot  appear  on  my 
side,  without  greatly  exposing  himself  to  the  resentments  of  his 
friends  and  neighbours,  and  being  the  object  of  much  odium.  The 
committee,  that  have  the  care  of  supplying  the  pulpit,  have  asked 
me  to  preach,  the  greater  part  of  the  time  since  my  dismission,  v4ien 
I  have  been  at  home  ;  but  it  has  seemed  to  be  with  much  reluc- 
tance that  they  have  come  to  me,  and  only  because  they  could  not 
get  the  pulpit  supplied  otherwise ;  and  they  have  asked  me  only 
from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath.  In  the  mean  time,  they  have  taken 
much  pains,  to  get  somebody  else  to  preach  to  them. 

"  Since  I  wrote  to  you  in  July  last,  I  received  your  letter,  dated 
the  30th  of  April  last,  vvith  your  generous  and  acceptable  presents  of 
Fraser's  Treatise  of  Justifying  Faith,  Mr.  Crawford's  Manual  against 
Infidelity,  Mr.  Randal's  Letters  on  Frequent  Communicating,  Mr, 
Blair's  Sermon  before  the  Society  for  propagating  Christian  Know- 
ledge, with  an  Account  of  the  Society,  and  the  Bishop  of  London's 
Letters  to  the  cities  of  London  and  Westminster.  The  view,  the 
last  mentioned  gives  of  the  wickedness  of  those  cities,  is  very  af- 
fecting ;  and  the  patience  of  God  towards  such  cities,  so  full  of 
wickedness,  so  heinous  and  horrid  in  its  kinds,  and  attended  with 
such  aggravations,  is  very  astonishing.  That  those  cities,  and  the 
nation,  and  indeed  Christendom  in  general,  are  come  to  such  a  pass 
as  they  are,  seems  to  me  to  argue  that  some  very  remarkable  dis- 
pensation of  Divine  Providence  is  nigh,  either  of  mercy,  or  of 
judgment,  or  perhaps  both  :  of  mercy  to  an  elect  number,  and  great 
WTath  and  vengeance  towards  others ;  and  that  those  very  things, 
you  take  notice  of,  in  Isa.  lix.  are  approaching,  appears  to  me  very 
probable.  However,  I  cannot  but  think,  that,  at  such  a  day,  all 
such  as  truly  love  Zion,  and  lament  the  wickedness  that  prevails 
in  the  earth,  are  very  loudly  called  upon  to  united  and  eai'nest 
prayer  to  God,  to  arise  and  plead  his  own  cause,  that  he  w^ould 
make  bare  his  arm,  tliat  that  may  bring  salvation ;  that  now,  when 
the  enemy  comes  in  as  a  flood,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  may  lift  up  a 
standard  against  him.  When  the  Church  of  Christ  is  like  the  ship, 
wherein  Christ  and  his  disciples  were,  when  it  was  tossed  with  a 
dreadful  tempest,  and  even  covered  with  waves,  and  Christ  was 
asleep ;  certainly  it  becomes  christians,  (though  not  with  doubting 
and  unbelief,)  to  call  on  their  Redeemer,  that  he  would  awake  out 
of  sleep,  and  rebuke  the  winds  and  waves. 

"  There  are  some  things,  that  afford  a  degree  of  comfort  and 
hope,  in  this  dark  day,  respecting  the  state  of  Zion.  I  cannot  but 
rejoice  at  some  things  which  I  have  seen,  that  have  been  lately 
published  in  England,  and  the  reception  they  have  met  with  in  so 
corrupt  a  time  and  nation.  Some  things  of  Dr.  Doddridge's,  (who 
seems  to  have  his  heart  truly  engaged  for  the  interests  of  religion,) 
particularly  his  Rise  and  Progress,  and  Col.  Gardiner's  Life,  and 
also  Mr.  Hervey's  IMeditations.     And  I  confess  it  is  a  thing,  tliat 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


41T 


gives  me  much  hope,  that  there  are  so  many  on  this  side  the  ocean 
united  in  the  concert  for  prayer,  proposed  from  Scotland  ;  of  which 
I  may  give  a  more  particular  account  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  M'Laurin, 
which  I  intend  shall  be  sent  witii  this.  I  had  lately  a  letter  from 
Governour  Belcher,  and  in  the  postscript  he  sent  me  the  following 
extract  of  a  letter,  he  had  lately  received  from  Dr.  Doddridge. 
"  Nor  did  I  ever  know  a  finer  class  of  young  preachers,  for  its  num- 
ber, than  that  which  God  has  given  me  this  year,  to  send  out  into 
the  churches.  Yet  are  not  all  the  supplies,  here  as  elsewhere,  ade- 
quate to  their  necessities  ;  for  many  congregations,  in  various  parts 
of  England,  remain  vacant;  but  I  hope  God  will  prosper  the  schemes 
we  are  forming  for  their  assistance.  I  bless  God,  that,  in  these 
middle  parts  of  our  island,  peace  and  truth  prevail  in  sweet  har- 
mony ;  and  I  think  God  is  reviving  our  cause,  or  rather  his  own, 
sensibly,  though  in  a  gentle  and  almost  unobserved  manner." 

"  This,  which  the  Doctor  speaks  of,  I  hope  is  a  revival  of  religion  ; 
though  many  things  in  many  places,  have  been  boasted  of  as  glori- 
ous revivals,  which  have  been  but  counterparts  of  religion,  so  it  has 
been  with  many  things  that  were  intermingled  with  and  followed 
our  late  happy  revival.  There  have  been  in  New  England,  within 
these  eight  years  past,  many  hundreds,  if  not  thousands,  of  instances, 
very  much  like  that  of  the  boy  at  Tiptry  Heath,  mentioned  by  Mr. 
Davidson,  as  you  give  account  in  your  letter.  We  ought  not  only 
to  praise  God  for  every  thing,  that  appears  favourable  to  the  interests 
of  religion,  and  to  pray  earnestly  for  a  general  re\dval,  but  also  to 
use  means  that  are  proper  in  order  to  it :  and  one  proper  means 
must  be  allowed  to  be,  a  due  administration  of  Christ's  ordinances  : 
one  instance  of  which  is  that,  which  you  and  Mr.  Randal  have  lately 
been  striving  for;  viz.  a  restoring  the  primitive  practice  of  frequent 
communicating.  I  should  much  wonder,  (had  it  not  been  for  what 
I  have  myself  lately  seen  of  the  force  of  bigotry,  and  prejudice, 
arising  from  education  and  custom,)  how  such  arguments  and  per- 
suasions, as  Mr.  Randal  uses,  could  be  withstood ;  but  however  they 
may  be  resisted  for  the  present,  yet  I  hope  those  who  have  begun 
will  continue  to  plead  the  cause  of  Christ's  institutions ;  and  what- 
ever opposition  is  made,  I  should  think  it  would  be  best  for  them  to 
plead  nothing  at  all  short  of  Christ's  institutions,  \iz.  the  administra- 
tion of  the  Lord's  Supper  every  Lord's  day — it  must  come  to  that 
at  last ;  and  why  should  Christ's  ministers  and  people,  by  resting 
in  a  partial  reformation,  lay  a  foundation  for  a  new  struggle,  and  an 
uncomfortable  labour  and  conflict,  in  some  future  generation,  in  or- 
der to  a  full  restoration  of  the  primitive  practice. 

"  I  should  be  greatly  gratified,  dear  Sir,  by  the  continuance  of 
your  correspondence,  and  by  being  informed  by  you  of  the  state  of 
things,  relating  to  the  interests  of  religion  in  Europe,  and  especially 
in  Great  Britain ;  and  particularly  whether  the  affair  of  a  compre- 
hension is  like  to  go  on,  or  whether  the  Test  act  is  like  to  be  taken 

Vol.  L  53 


418  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

off,  or  if  there  be  any  thing  else  done,  or  published,  in  England  or 
Scotland,  that  remarkably  affects  the  interests  of  religion. 

"  I  have,  with  this  letter,  sent  Mr.  Bellamy's  True  Religion  De- 
lineated, with  a  sermon  of  mine  at  Mr.  Strong's  ordination ;  of 
which  I  ask  your  acceptance,  as  a  small  testimony  of  gratitude  for 
your  numerous  favours  to  me.  I  ask  a  constant  remembrance  in 
your  prayers,  that  I  may  have  the  presence  of  God  under  my 
unusual  trials,  and  that  I  may  make  a  good  improvement  of 
all  God's  dealings  with  me.  My  wife  joins  with  me  in  most 
cordial  salutations  to  you  and  Mrs.  Erskine. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 

"  friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 
"  Mr.  Erskine." 

"At  length,"  observes  Dr.  Hopkins,  "a  great  uneasiness  was 
manifested,  by  many  of  the  people  of  Northampton,  that  Mr.  Ed- 
wards should  preach  there  at  all.  Upon  which,  the  Committee  for 
supplying  the  pulpit,  called  the  town  together,  to  know  their  minds 
with  respect  to  that  matter;  w^hen  they  voted;  That  it  was  not 
agreeable  to  their  minds  that  he  should  preach  among  them.  Ac- 
cordingly, while  Mr.  Edwards  was  in  the  towTi,  and  they  had  no 
other  minister  to  preach  to  them,  they  carried  on  public  worship 
among  themselves,  and  without  any  preaching,  rather  than  invite 
him.* 

"Every  one  must  be  sensible,"  observes  Dr.  Hopkins,  who  w^as  liim- 
self  an  occasional  eye-\\itness  of  these  scenes,  "  that  this  was  a  great 
trial  to  Mr.  Edwards.  He  had  been  nearly  twenty-four  years  among 
that  people ;  and  his  labours  had  been,  to  all  appearance,  from  time  to 
time  greatly  blessed  among  them :  and  a  great  number  looked  on  him 
as  their  spiritual  father,  who  had  been  the  happy  instrument  of 
turning  them  from  darkness  to  light,  and  plucking  them  as  brands 
out  of  the  burning.  And  they  had  frcm  time  to  time  professed 
that  they  looked  upon  it  as  one  of  their  greatest  privileges  to  have 
such  a  minister,  and  manifested  their  great  love  and  esteem  of  him, 
to  such  a  degree,  that,  (as  St.  Paul  says  of  the  Galatians,)  "  if  it  had 
been  possible,  they  would  have  plucked  out  their  owti  eyes,  and 
given  them  to  him."  And  they  had  a  great  interest  in  his  affec- 
tion :  he  had  borne  them  on  his  heart,  and  carried  them  in  his 
bosom  for  many  years ;  exercising  a  tender  concern  and  love  for 
them  :  for  their  good  he  was  ahvays  writing,  contriving,  labouring ; 
for  them  he  had  poured  out  ten  thousand  fervent  prayers ;  in  their 


*  This  vote  appears  to  have  hcen  passed  in  the  latter  part  of  November,  a  few 
weeks  only  before  Mr.  Edwards  received  proposals  of  settlement,  which  he  ul- 
timately accepted. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  41 D 

good  he  had  rejoiced  as  one  that  iindeth  great  spoil ;  and  they 
were  dear  to  him  above  any  other  people  under  heaven. — Now  to 
have  this  people  turn  against  him,  and  thrust  him  out  from  among 
them,  stopping  their  ears,  and  running  upon  him  with  furious  zeal, 
not  allowing  him  to  defend  himself  by  giving  him  a  fair  hearing ; 
and  even  refusing  so  much  as  to  hear  him  preach;  many  of  them 
surmising  and  publicly  speaking  many  ill  things  as  to  his  ends  and 
designs  !  surely  this  must  come  very  near  to  him,  and  try  his  spirit. 
The  words  of  the  psalmist  seem  applicable  to  this  case,  "  It  was  not 
an  enemy  that  reproached  me,  then  I  could  have  borne  it ;  neither 
was  it  he  that  hated  me,  that  did  magnify  himself  against  me,  then 
I  would  have  hid  myself  from  him.  But  it  was  thou — my  guide 
and  mine  acquaintance.  We  took  sweet  counsel  together,  and 
walked  unto  the  house  of  God  in  company." 

"  Let  us  therefore  now  behold  the  man  ! — The  calm  sedateness 
of  his  mind ;  his  meekness  and  humility  in  great  and  violent  oppo- 
sition, and  injurious  treatment ;  his  resolution  and  steady  conduct 
through  all  this  dark  and  terrible  storm,  were  truly  wonderful,  and 
cannot  be  set  in  so  beautiful  and  affecting  a  light  by  any  descrip- 
tion, as  they  appeared  in  to  his  friends,  who  were  eye-witnesses. 

"  Mr.  Edwards  had  a  numerous  and  chargeable  family,  and 
little  or  no  income,  exclusive  of  his  salary ;  and,  considering  how 
far  he  w^as  advanced  in  years  ;  the  general  disposition  of  people, 
who  want  a  minister,  to  prefer  a  young  man,  who  has  never  been 
settled,  to  one  who  has  been  dismissed  from  his  people ;  and  what 
misrepresentations  were  made  of  his  principles  through  the  country ; 
it  looked  to  him  not  at  all  probable,  that  he  should  ever  have  oppor- 
tunity to  be  settled  again  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  if  he  was  dis- 
missed from  Northampton :  and  he  was  not  inclined,  or  able,  to 
take  any  other  course,  or  go  into  any  other  busmess  to  get  a  living : 
so  that  beggary  as  well  as  disgrace  stared  him  full  in  the  face,  if  he 
persisted  in  his  principles.  When  he  was  fixed  in  his  principles, 
and  before  they  were  publicly  known,  he  told  some  of  his  friends, 
that,  if  he  discovered  and  persisted  in  them,  it  would  most  likely 
issue  in  his  dismission  and  disgrace;  and  the  ruin  of  himself 
and  family,  as  to  their  temporal  interests.  He  therefore  first 
sat  down  and  counted  the  cost,  and  deliberately  took  up  the 
cross,  w^hen  it  was  set  before  him  in  its  full  weight  and  mag- 
nitude ;  and  in  direct  opposition  to  all  worldly  views  and  mo- 
tives. And  therefore  his  conduct,  in  these  circumstances,  was 
a  remarkable  exercise  and  discovery  of  his  conscientiousness; 
and  of  his  readiness  to  deny  himself,  and  to  forsake  all  that  he  had,  to 
follow  Christ.— A  man  must  have  a  considerable  degree  of  the 
spirit  of  a  martyr,  to  go  on  with  the  steadfastness  and  resolution  with 
which  he  did.  He  ventured  wherever  truth  and  duty  appeared  to 
lead  him,  unmoved  at  the  threatening  dangers  on  every  side. 


420  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

"  However,  God  did  not  forsake  him.  As  he  gave  him  those 
inward  supports,  by  v/hich  he  w^as  able  in  patience  to  possess  his 
soul,  and  courageously  row  on  in  the  storm,  in  the  face  of  boister- 
ous winds  beating  hard  upon  him,  and  in  the  midst  of  gaping  weaves 
threatening  to  swallow  him  up  ;  so  he  soon  appeared  for  him  in  his 
providence,  even  beyond  all  his  expectations.  His  correspondents, 
and  other  friends,  in  Scotland  hearing  of  his  dismission,  and  fearing 
it  might  be  the  means  of  bringing  him  into  worldly  straits,  gene- 
rously contributed  a  considerable  sum,  and  sent  it  over  to  him. 

"  And  God  did  not  leave  him,  without  tender  and  valuable 
friends  at  Northampton.  For  a  small  number  of  his  people,  who 
opposed  his  dismission  from  the  begnniing,  and  some,  who  acted  on 
neither  side,  but  after  his  dismission  adhered  to  him,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  their  great  esteem  and  love  of  IMr.  Edwards,  were  willing, 
and  thought  themselves  able,  to  maintain  him  :  and  insisted  upon  it, 
that  it  was  his  duty  to  stay  among  them,  as  a  distinct  and  separate 
congregation,  from  the  body  of  the  town  who  had  rejected  him. 

"  Mr.  Edwards  could  not  see  it  to  be  his  duty  to  remain  among 
them,  as  this  would  probably  be  a  means  of  perpetimting  an  unhap- 
py division  in  the  town ;  and  there  was  to  him  no  prospect  of  doing 
the  good  there,  which  would  counterbalance  the  evi\.  However, 
that  he  might  do  all  he  could  to  satisfy  his  tender  and  afflicted 
friends ;  he  consented  to  ask  the  advice  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Coun- 
cil. Accordingly  a  Council  was  called,  and  met  at  Northampton 
on  the  15th  of  May  1751. — The  town  on  this  occasion  was  put  into 
a  great  tumult.  They,  who  were  active  in  the  dismission  of  Mr. 
Edwards,  supposed,  though  without  any  good  ground,  that  he  was 
contriving  with  his  friends,  again  to  introduce  himself  at  Northamp- 
ton." A  meeting  of  the  church  was  summoned,  and  a  Commit- 
tee of  the  church  appointed;  who,  in  the  name  of  the  church, 
drew  up  a  Remonstrance  against  the  proceedings  of  the  Council, 
and  laid  it  before  that  body.  The  character  of  this  instrument 
may  be  learned,  from  the  subsequent  confession  of  one  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  the  church  that  signed  it,  who  was  principally  concerned  in 
drawing  it  up,  and  very  active  in  bringing  the  church  to  accept  of  it,  and 
to  vote  that  it  should  be  presented  to  the  Council.  To  use  his  own  lan- 
guage, it  was  "  every  where  interlarded  with  unchristian  bitterness,  and 
"  sarcastical  and  unmannerly  insinuations.  It  contained  divers  di- 
"  rect,  grievous  and  criminal  charges  and  allegations  against  Mr. 
"  Edwards,  w^hich,  I  have  since  good  reason  to  suppose,  were  all 
"  founded  on  jealous  and  uncharitable  mistakes,  and  so  were  real- 
"  ly  gross  slanders ;  also  many  heavy  and  reproachful  charges  upon 
"  divers  of  Mr.  Edwards'  adherents,  and  some  severe  censures  of 
"  them  all  indiscriminately ;  all  of  which,  if  not  wholly  false  and 
"  groundless,  yet  w^ere  altogether  unnecessary,  and  therefore  highly 
"  criminal.     Indeed  I  am  fully  convinced  that  the  whole  of  that 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  421 

"  composure,  excepting  tlie  small  part  of  it  relating  to  the  expedi- 
*'  ency  of  Mr.  Edwards'  resettlement  at  Northampton,  w^as  total]/ 
"unchristian, — a  scandalous,  abusive,  injurious  hbel  against  Mr. 
"  Edwards  and  his  particular  friends,  especially  the  former,  and 
"  highly  provoking  and  detestable  in  the  sight  of  God ;  for  w^hich  I 
"  am  heartily  sorry  and  ashamed  ;  and  pray  I  may  remember  it, 
"  with  deep  abasement  and  penitence,  all  my  days." 

After  this  Remonstrance  of  the  church  had  been  read  before  the 
Council,  they  immediately  invited  the  Committee,  by  whom  it  was 
signed,  to  come  forward,  and  prove  the  numerous  allegations  and 
insinuations,  which  it  contained;  "but  they  refused  to  appear  and 
support  any  of  their  charges,  or  so  much  as  to  give  the  gentlemen 
of  the  Council  any  opportunity  to  confer  with  them,  about  the  affair 
depending,  though  it  w^as  diligently  sought ;"  and  though,  by  pre- 
senting the  Remonstrance,  they  had  virtually  given  the  Council 
jurisdiction,  as  to  the  charges  it  contained,  yet  they  utterly  refused 
to  acknowledge  them  to  be  an  Ecclesiastical  Council.  The  Coun- 
cil then  invited  the  Church,  as  a  body,  to  a  friendly  conference,  to 
see  if  some  measures  could  not  be  devised  for  the  removal  of  the 
difficulties,  in  which  the  ecclesiastical  affairs  of  the  town  were  in- 
volved ;  but,  although  this  was  earnestly  and  repeatedly  moved  for, 
on  the  part  of  the  Council,  it  was  repeatedly  and  finally  denied  on 
the  part  of  the  church. 

"  The  Council  having  heard  what  Mr.  Edwards,  and  those  who 
adhered  to  him,  had  to  say ;  advised,  agreeably  to  the  judgment  of 
Mr.  Edwards,  that  he  should  leave  Northampton,  and  accept  of 
the  imdtations,  which  he  had  received,  to  take  charge  of  the  Indian 
Mission,  as  well  as  of  the  church  and  congregation,  at  Stockbridge  : 
of  which  a  more  particular  account  will  be  given  further  on. 

As  a  proper  close  to  this  melancholy  story,  and  to  confirm  and 
illustrate  what  has  been  related,  the  following  Letter  from  Joseph 
Hawley,  Esq.  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hall  of  Sutton,  published  in  a 
weekly  newspaper  in  Boston,  May  19th,  1760,  is  here  inserted. 
The  reader,  who  has  perused  the  preceding  pages,  will  not  need  to 
be  informed,  that  this  gentleman,  though  certainly  less  violent,  and 
far  less  malignant,  than  some  of  his  associates,  was  not  only  very 
active  in  the  transactions  of  this  whole  affair,  but  a  principal  leader 
in  it,  and  the  man,  on  whose  counsels  and  conduct  the  opponents  of 
Mr.  Edwards  especially  relied.  He  was  a  near  kinsman  of  Mr. 
Edwards,  and  a  lawyer  of  distinguished  talents  and  eloquence.* 

"  To  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hall,  of  Sutton. 

'' JVorthampton,  May  9,  1760. 
"  Rev.  Sir, 

"  I  have  often  wished,  that  every  member  of  the  two  Ecclesias- 

*  The  father  of  Mr.  Hawley  married  Rebeckah,  the  tiftli  daughter  of  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Stoddard,  the  sister  of  Mr.  Edwards'  mother. 


422  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

tical  Councils,  that  formerly  sat  in  Northampton,  upon  the  unhappy 
differences,  between  our  former  most  worthy  and  Rev.  Pastor,  Mr. 
Jonathan    Edwards,   and   the   church  here,   whereof  you  were  a 
member ;  I  say,  Sir,  I  have  often  wished,  every  one  of  them  truly 
knew  my  real  sense  of  my  own  conduct  in  the  affair,  that  the  one 
and  the  other  of  the  said  Councils  are  privy  to.     As  I  have  long 
apprehended  it  to  be  my  duty,  not  only  to  humble  myself  before 
God,  for  what  was  unchristian  and  sinful  in  my  conduct  before  the 
said  Councils,  but  also  to  confess  my  faults  to  them,  and  take  shame 
to  myself  before  them ;  so  I  have  often  studied  with  myself,  in 
what  manner  it  was  practicable  for  me  to  do  it.     When  I  under- 
stood that  you.   Sir,  and  IMr.  Eaton,  were  to  be  at  Cold-Spring  at 
the  time  of  the  late  council,  I  resolved  to  improve  the  opportunity, 
fully  to  open  my  mind  there  to  you  and  him  thereon ;  and  thought 
that  probably  some  method  might  be  then  thought  of,  in  which  my 
reflections  on  myself,  touching  the  matters  above  hinted  at,  might 
be  communicated  to  most,  if  not  all,  the  gentlemen  aforesaid,  who 
did  not  reside  in  this  county.     But  you  know.  Sir,  how  difficult  it 
was  for  us  to  converse  together  by  ourselves,  when  at  Cold-Spring, 
without  giving  umbrage  to  that  people  ;  I  therefore  proposed  wri- 
ting to  you  upon  the  matters,  which  I  had  then  opportunity  only 
most  summarily  to  suggest ;  which  you.   Sir,  signified  would  be 
agreeable  to  you.     I  therefore  now  undertake  what  I  then  propo- 
sed, in  which  I  humbly  ask  the  divine  aid  ;  and  that  I  may  be 
made  most  freely  willing,  fully  to  confess  my  sin  and  guilt  to  you 
and  the  world,  in  those  instances,  which  I  have  reason  to  suppose 
fell  under  your  notice,  as  tliey  were  public  and  notorious  transac- 
tions, and  on  account  whereof,  therefore,  you.  Sir,  and  all  otliers 
who  had  knowledge  thereof,   had  just  cause  to  be  offended  at  me. 
"  And  in  the  first  place.  Sir,   I  apprehend  that,  with  the  church 
and  people  of  Northampton,  I  sinned   and  erred  exceedingly,  in 
consenting  and  labouring,  that  there  should  be  so  early  a  dismission 
of  Mr.  Edwards  from  his  pastoral  relation  to  us,    even  upon  the 
supposition  that  he  was  really  in  a  mistake  in  the  disputed  point : 
not  only  because  the  dispute  was  upon  matters  so  very  disputable  in 
themselves,  and  at  the  greatest  remove  from  fundamental,  but  be- 
cause Mr.  Edwards  so  long  had  approved  himself  a  most  faithful 
and  painful  pastor  to  the  said  church.     He  also  changed  his  senti- 
ments, in  that  point,  wholly  from  a  tender  regard  to  what  appeared 
to  him  to  be  truth  ;  and  had  made  known  his  sentiments  with  great 
moderation,   and  upon   great  deliberation,  against  all  worldly  mo- 
tives, from  mere  fidelity  to  his  great  Master,  and  a  tender  re- 
gard to  the  souls  of  his  flock,  as  we  had  the  highest  reason  to 
judge.     These  considerations  now  seem  to  me  sufficient ;    and 
would,  (if  we  had  been  of  a  right  spirit)  have  greatly  endear- 
ed hihi  to  his  people,    and  made  us  to  the  last  degree,  reluc- 
tant to  ])art  with  him,  and  disposed  us  to  the  exercise  of  the  great- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDEXT    EDWARDS.  423 

est  candour,  gentleness  and  moderation.  How  much  of  the  reverse 
whereof  appeared  in  us,  I  need  not  tell  you,  Sir,  who  were  an  eye 
witness  of  our  temper  and  conduct. 

•'  And,  although  it  does  not  become  me  to  pronounce  decisively, 
on  a  point  so  disputable,  as  was  then  in  dispute  ;  yet  I  beg  leave  to 
say,  that  I  really  apprehend,  that  it  is  of  the  highest  moment  to  the 
body  of  this  church,  and  to  me  in  particular,  most  solicitously  to 
enquire,  w^hether,  like  the  Pharisees  and  lawyers  in  John  Baptist's 
time,  we  did  not  reject  the  counsel  of  God  against  ourselves,  in  re- 
jecting Mr.  Edwards,  and  his  doctrine,  which  was  the  ground  of  his 
dismission.  And  I  humbly  conceive,  that  it  highly  imports  us  all  of 
this  church,  most  seriously  and  impartially  to  examine  what  that 
most  w^orthy  and  able  divine  published,  about  that  time,  in  support 
of  the  same,  w^hereby  he  being  dead  yet  speaketh.  But  there  were 
three  things.  Sir,  especially  in  my  own  particular  conduct  before  the 
first  council,  which  have  been  justly  matter  of  great  grief  and  much 
trouble  to  me,  almost  ever  since,  viz. 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  confess.  Sir,  that  I  acted  very  immodestly 
and  abusively  to  you,  as  well  as  injuriously  to  the  church  and  my- 
self, when  with  much  zeal  and  unbecoming  assurance,  I  moved  the 
council  that  they  would  interpose  to  silence  and  stop  you,  in  an  ad- 
dress you  were  making  one  morning  to  the  people,  w^herein  you 
were,  if  I  do  not  forget,  briefly  exhorting  tliem  to  a  tender  remem- 
brance of  the  former  affection  and  harmony,  that  had  long  subsisted 
between  them  and  their  Rev.  Pastor,  and  the  great  comfort  and 
profit,  which  they  apprehended  that  they  had  received  from  his 
ministry ;  for  which.  Sir,  I  heartily  ask  your  forgiveness ;  and  I 
think,  that  we  ought,  instead  of  opposing  an  exhortation  of  that  na- 
ture, to  have  received  it  with  all  thankfulness. 

"  Another  particular  of  my  conduct  before  that  council,  w^hich  I 
now  apprehend  w^as  criminal,  and  was  owing  to  the  want  of  that 
tender  affection,  and  reverend  respect  and  esteem  for  Mr.  Edw  ards, 
which  he  had  highly  merited  of  me,  w^as  my  strenuously  op- 
posing the  adjournment  of  the  matters  submitted  to  that  council 
for  about  two  months;  for  which  I  declare  myself  unfeignedly 
sorry ;  and  I  with  shame  remember,  that  I  did  it  in  a  peremptory, 
decisive,  vehement,  and  very  immodest  manner. 

"  But,  Sir,  the  most  criminal  part  of  my  conduct  at  that  time,  that 
I  am  conscious  of,  was  my  exhibiting  to  that  Council  a  set  of  argu- 
ments in  WTiting,  the  drift  w^hereof  was  to  prove  the  reasonableness 
and  necessity  of  Mr.  Edwards'  dismission,  in  case  no  accommoda- 
tion was  then  effected  ^vith  mutual  consent ;  which  wTiting,  by  clear 
implication,  contained  some  severe,  uncharitable,  and,  if  I  remem- 
ber right,  groundless  and  slanderous  imputations  on  Mr.  Edwards, 
expressed  in  bitter  language.  And  although  the  original  draft 
thereof  was  not  done  by  me,  yet  I  foolishly  and  sinfully  consented  to 
copy  it ;  and,  as  agent  for  the  Church,  to  read  it,  and  deliver  it  to 


424  LTFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  Council ;  which  I  could  never  have  done,  if  I  had  not  had  a 
wicked  relish  for  perverse  things :  which  conduct  of  mine  I  confess 
was  very  sinful,  and  highly  provoking  to  God ;  for  which  I  am 
ashamed,  confounded,  and  have  nothing  to  answer. 

"As  to  the  Church's  Remonstrance,  as  it  was  called,  which  their 
Committee  preferred  to  the  last  of  the  said  Councils,  (to  all  which 
I  was  consenting,  and  in  the  composing  whereof  I  was  very  active, 
as  also  in  bringing  the  church  to  their  vote  upon  it;)  I  would,  in 
tlie  first  place,  only  observe,  that  I  do  not  remember  any  thing,  in 
that  small  part  of  it,  which  was  plainly  discursive  of  the  expediency 
of  Mr.  Edwards'  re-settlement  here,  aspastor  toapartof  the  church, 
which  was  very  exceptionable.  But  as  to  all  the  residue,  which 
was  much  the  greatest  part  thereof,  (and  I  am  not  certain  that  any 
part  was  wholly  free,)  it  was  every  where  interlarded  with  unchris- 
tian bitterness,  sarcastical,  and  unmannerly  insinuations.  It  con- 
tained divers  direct,  grievous,  and  criminal  charges  and  allegations 
against  Mr.  Edwards,  w^hich,  I  have  since  good  reason  to  suppose, 
were  all  founded  on  jealous  and  uncharitable  mistakes,  and  so,  were 
really  gross  slanders ;  also  many  he?Lvy  and  reproachful  charges 
upon  divers  of  Mr.  Edwards'  adherents,  and  some  severe  censures 
of  them  all  indiscriminately ;  all  of  which,  if  not  wholly  false  and 
groundless,  were  altogether  unnecessary,  and  therefore  highly  cri- 
minal. Indeed,  I  am  fully  convinced,  that  the  whole  of  that  com- 
posure, excepting  the  small  part  tliereof  above  mentioned,  was  to- 
tally unchristian,  a  scandalous,  abusive,  injurious  libel,  against  Mr. 
Edwards  and  his  particular  friends,  especially  the  former,  and  highly 
provoking  and  detestable  in  the  sight  of  God ;  for  which  I  am  hear- 
tily sorry  and  ashamed  ;  and  pray  that  I  may  remember  it  with  deep 
abasement,  and  penitence  all  my  days.  Nor  do  I  now  think,  that 
the  Church's  conduct  in  refusing  to  appear,  and  attend  before  that 
Council,  to  support  the  charges  and  allegations  in  the  said  Remon- 
strance against  i\Ir.  Edwards  and  the  said  brethren,  which  they  de- 
manded, was  ever  vindicated,  by  all  the  subtle  answers  that  were 
given  to  the  said  demand ;  nor  do  I  think  that  our  conduct 
in  that  instance  was  capable  of  a  defence.  For  it  appears  to 
me,  that,  by  making  such  charges  against  them  before  the  said 
Council,  we  necessarily  so  far  gave  that  Council  jurisdiction  ; 
and  I  own  with  sorrow  and  regret,  that  I  zealously  endeavoured, 
that  the  Church  should  perseveringly  refuse  to  appear  before 
the  said  Council,  for  the  purpose  aforesaid  ;  which  I  humbly 
pray  God  to  forgive. 

"  Another  part  of  my  conduct.  Sir,  of  wiiich  I  have  long  re- 
pented, and  for  which  I  hereby  declare  my  hearty  sorrow,  was 
my  obstinate  opposition  to  the  last  Council's  having  any  confer- 
ence with  the  Church  ;  which  the  said  Council  earnestly  and 
repeatedly  moved  for,  and  which  the  Church,  as  you  know, 
finally  denied.     I  think  it  discovered  a  great  deal  of  pride  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  425 

vain  sufficiency  in  the  church,  and  showed  them  to  be  very  opinion- 
ative,  especially  the  chief  sticklers,  one  of  whom  I  was,  and  think 
it  was  running  a  most  presumptuous  risk,  and  acting  the  part  of 
proud  scorners,  for  us  to  refuse  hearing,  and  candidly  and  seriously 
considering,  what  that  council  could  say  or  oppose  to  us ;  among 
whom,  there  were  divers  justly  in  great  reputation  for  grace  and 
wisdom. 

"  In  these  instances.  Sir,  of  my  conduct,  and  in  others,  (to  which 
you  were  not  privy,)  in  the  course  of  that  most  melancholy  conten- 
tion with  Mr.  Edwards,  I  now  see  that  I  was  very  much  influenced 
by  vast  pride,  self-sufficiency,  ambition,  and  vanity.  I  appear  to 
myself  vile,  and  doubtless  much  more  so  to  others,  who  are  more 
impartial ;  and  do,  in  the  review  thereof,  abhor  myself,  and  repent 
sorely  :  and  if  my  own  heart  condemns  me,  it  behoves  me  solemnly 
to  remember,  that  God  is  greater  and  knoweth  all  things.  1  hereby 
own.  Sir,  that  such  treatment  of  Mr.  Edwards,  wherein  I  was  so 
deeply  concerned  and  active,  was  particularly  and  very  aggra- 
vatedly  sinful  and  ungrateful  in  me,  because  I  was  not  only  un- 
der the  common  obligations  of  each  individual  of  the  society  to 
him,  as  a  most  able,  diligent  and  faithful  pastor ;  but  I  had  also  re- 
ceived many  instances  of  his  tenderness,  goodness  and  generosity, 
to  me  as  a  young  kinsman,  whom  he  was  disposed  to  treat  in  a 
most  friendly  manner. 

*'  Indeed,  Sir,  I  must  own,  that,  by  my  conduct  in  consulting  and 
acting  against  Mr.  Edwards,  within  the  time  of  o.ir  most  unhappy 
disputes  with  him,  and  especially  in  and  about  that  abominable 
"  Remonstrance,"  I  have  so  far  symbolized  with  Balaam,  Ahitophel 
and  Judas,  that  I  am  confounded  and  filled  with  terror,  often- 
times, when  I  attend  to  the  most  painful  similitude.  And  I 
freely  confess,  that,  on  account  of  my  conduct  above  mentioned,  I 
have  the  greatest  reason  to  tremble  at  those  most  solemn  and 
awful  words  of  our  Saviour,  Matt,  xviii.  6,  Whoso  shall  offend  one 
of  these  little  ones,  which  believe  in  me,  it  were  better  for  him  that  a 
mill-stone  were  hanged  about  his  neck,  and  that  he  were  drowned 
in  the  depth  of  the  sea;  and  those  in  Luke  x.  16,  He  that  despiseth 
you,  despiseth  me  ;  and  he  that  despiseth  me,  despiseth  him  that  sent 
me ;  and  I  am  most  sorely  sensible  that  nothing  but  that  infinite 
grace  and  mercy,  which  saved  some  of  the  betrayers  and  murder- 
ers of  our  blessed  Lord,  and  the  persecutors  of  his  martyrs,  can 
pardon  me ;  in  which  alone  I  hope  for  pardon,  for  the  sake  of 
Christ,  whose  blood,  blessed  be  God,  cleanseth  from  all  sin.  On 
the  whole.  Sir,  I  am  convinced,  that  I  have  the  greatest  reason  to 
say  as  David,  "  Have  mercy  upon  me,  O  God,  according  to  thy 
loving  kindness,  according  to  the  multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies, 
blot  out  my  transgressions ;  wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine  iniquity, 
and  cleanse  me  from  my  sin ;  for  I  acknowledge  my  trans- 
gressions, and  my  sin  is  ever  before  me.     Hide  thy  face  fi:om 

Vol.  I.  54 


426  1.1FE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

my  sins,  and  blot  out  all  mine  iniquities;  create  in  me  a  cleaa 
heart,  O  God,  and  renew  a  right  spirit  within  me ;  cast  me 
not  away  from  thy  presence,  and  take  not  thy  holy  Spirit  from  me  : 
restore  unto  me  the  joy  of  thy  salvation,  and  uphold  me  with  thy  free 
Spirit."     (Ps.  H.  1—3,  9—12.) 

"  And  1  lumibly  apprehend,  that  it  greatly  concerns  the  church 
of  Northampton  most  seriously  to  examine.  Whether  the  many  hard 
speeches,  spoken  by  many  particular  members  against  their  former 
pastor,  some  of  which  the  church  really  countenanced,  (and  especial- 
ly those  spoken  by  the  church  as  a  body,  in  that  moSt  vile  "  Remon- 
strance,") are  not  so  odious  and  ungodly,  as  to  be  utterly  in- 
capable of  defence  ;  whether  the  said  church  were  not  guilty 
of  a  great  sin,  in  being  so  willing  and  disposed,  for  so  slight 
a  cause,  to  part  with  so  faithful  and  godly  a  minister  as  Mr. 
Edwards  was  ;  and  whether  ever  God  will  hold  us  guiltless,  till 
we  cry  to  hin:i  for  Christ's  sake  to  pardon  and  save  us  from  that 
judgment,  which  such  ungodly  deeds  deserve.  And  I  most  hear- 
tily wish  and  pray,  that  the  town  and  church  of  Northampton 
would  seriously  and  carefully  examine.  Whether  they  have  not 
abundant  cause  to  judge,  that  they  are  now  lying  under  great 
guilt  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  and  whether  those  of  us,  who  were  con- 
cerned in  that  most  awful  contention  with  Mr.  Edwards,  can  ever 
more  reasonably  expect  God's  favour  and  blessing,  till  our  eyes 
are  opened,  and  we  become  thoroughly  convinced  that  we  have 
greatly  provoked  the  Most  High,  and  have  been  injurious  to 
one  of  the  best  of  men  ;  and  until  we  shall  be  thoroughly  con- 
vinced, tliat  we  have  dreadfully  persecuted  Christ,  by  persecut- 
ing and  vexing  that  just  man,  and  servant  of  Christ;  until  we 
shall  be  humble  as  in  the  dust  on  account  of  it,  and  till  we 
openly,  in  full  terms,  and  without  baulking  the  matter,  confess 
the  same  before  the  world,  and  most  humbly  and  earnestly  seek 
forgiveness  of  God,  and  do  what  we  can  to  honour  the  memory 
of  Mr.  Edwards,  and  clear  it  of  all  the  aspersions  which  we 
unjustly  cast  upon  him  ;  since  God  has  been  pleased  to  put  it 
beyond  our  power  to  ask  his  forgiveness.  Such  terms,  I  am 
persuaded,  the  great  and  righteous  God  will  hold  us  to,  and  that  it 
will  be  vain  for  us  to  hope  to  escape  with  impunity  in  any  other 
way.  This  I  am  convinced  of  with  regard  to  myself,  and  this 
way  I  most  solemnly  propose  to  take  myself,  (if  God  in  his  mercy 
shall  give  me  opportunity)  that  so,  by  making  free  confession 
to  God  and  man  of  my  sin  and  guilt,  and  publicly  taking  shame  to 
myself,  I  may  give  glory  to  the  God  of  Israel,  and  do  what  in 
me  lies  to  clear  the  memory  of  that  venerable  man  from  the 
wrongs  and  mjuries,  I  was  so  active  in  bringing  on  his  reputatioh 
and  character  ;  and  I  thank  God,  that  he"  has  been  pleased  to 
spare  my  life  to  this  time,  and  am  sorry  that  I  have  delayed  th^ 
affair  so  long. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT  EDWARDS.  427 

"  Although  I  made  the  substance  of  ahnost  all  the  foregoing  re- 
jections in  writing,  but  not  exactly  in  the  same  manner,  to  Mr.  Ed- 
w^ards  and  the  brethren  who  adhered  to  him,  in  Mr.  Edwards'  life, 
and  before  he  removed  from  Stockbridge,  and  I  have  reason  to 
belive  that  he,  from  his  great  candour  and  charity,  heartily  forgave 
me  and  prayed  for  me:  yet,  because  that  was  not  generally 
known,  I  look  on  myself  obliged  to  take  further  steps ;  for  while  I 
kept  silence  my  hones  waxed  old,  he.  For  all  these  my  great  sins 
therefore,  in  the  first  place,  I  humbly  and  most  earnestly  ask  ior- 
giveness  of  God ;  in  the  next  place,  of  the  relatives  and  neai' 
friends  of  Mr.  Edwards.  I  also  ask  the  forgiveness  of  all  those, 
who  were  called  Mr.  Edwards'  adherents ;  and  of  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  ecclesiastical  councils  above  mentioned ;  and  lastly  of 
all  christian  people,  who  have  had  any  knowledge  of  these  matters. 

"  I  have  no  desire,  Sir,  that  you  should  make  any  secret  of  this 
letter ;  but  that  you  would  communicate  the  same  to  whom  you 
shall  judge  proper  :  and  I  purpose,  if  God  shall  give  me  opportuni- 
ty, to  procure  it  to  be  pubhshed  in  some  one  of  the  pubHc  news- 
papers ;  for  I  cannot  devise  any  other  way  of  making  known  my 
sentiments  of  the  foregoing  matters  to  all,  who  ought  to  be  ac- 
quainted therewith,  and  therefore  I  think  I  ought  to  do  it,  whatever 
remarks  I  may  forsee  will  be  made  thereon.  Probably,  w^hen  it 
comes  out,  some  of  my  acquaintance  will  pronounce  me  quite  over- 
run with  vapours ;  others  will  be  furnished  v^ith  matter  for  mirth 
and  pleasantry;  others  will  cursorily  pass  it  over,  as  relating  to 
matters  quite  stale ;  but  some,  I  am  persuaded,  will  rejoice  to  see 
me  brought  to  a  sense  of  my  sin  and  duty ;  and  I  myself  shall  be 
conscious,  that  I  have  done  something  of  what  the  nature  of  the 
case  admits,  towards  undoing  what  is,  and  long  has  been,  to  my 
greatest  remorse  and  trouble,  that  it  was  ever  done. 

"  Sir,  I  desire  that  none  would  entertain  a  thought,  from  my 
having  spoken  respectfully  of  ^h^  Edwards,  that  I  am  disaffected 
to  our  present  pastor ;  for  the  very  reverse  is  true  ;  and  I  have  a 
reverend  esteem,  real  value,  and  hearty  affection  for  him,  and  bless 
God,  that  he  has,  notwithstanding  all  our  former  unworthiness,  given 
us  one  to  succeed  Mr.  Edwards,  who,  as  I  have  reason  to  hope,  is 
truly  faithful. 

"  I  conclude  this  long  letter,  by  heartily  desiring  your  prayers, 
that  my  repentance  of  my  sins  above  mentioned  may  be  unfeigned 
and  genuine,  and  such  as  God  in  infinite  mercy,  for  Christ's  sake, 
will  accept ;  and  I  beg  leave  to  subscribe  myself, 

'*  Sir,  your  real,  though  very  unworthy  friend, 
"  and  obedient  servant, 

"  Joseph  Hawlky." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

Review  of  the  Dismission  of  Mr.  Edwards. —  Causes. —  Conduct 
of  the  Parties. — Designs  of  Providence. 

The  lacts  €Oftnected  with  the  dismission  of  Mr.  Edwards  from 
Northampton,  so  far  as  they  have  come  within  my  knowledge,  have 
now  been  detailed.  An  event  so  singular,  so  unhappy  in  itself, 
and  so  important  in  its  consequences,  and  in  its  connection  with 
the  ecclesiastical  history  of  New-England,  deserves  no  ordinary- 
attention.  In  examining  its  bearing  on  the  character  of  Air.  Ed- 
wards, we  are  compelled  to  consider  the  Causes  which  led  to  it, 
and  the  Conduct  of  the  various  parties  concerned.    - 

In  reviewing  the  Causes,  which  led  to  this  melancholy  event,  it 
cannot  fail  to  strike  the  reader,  that,  agreeably  to  the  confession  of 
his  most  violent  opposers  and  most  bitter  enemies,  no  solitary  in- 
stance of  misconduct,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Edwards,  is  to  be  enu- 
merated among  those  causes.  No  allegation  of  imprudence,  or 
impropriety,  in  him  or  his  family,  no  mention  of  any  unfaithfulness, 
or  neglect  of  duty, — of  any  fault,  either  of  commission  or  of 
omission,  is  to  be  found  in  any  of  the  documents  connected  with  the 
whole  series  of  transactions,  from  the  beginning  to  the  close.  The 
only  charges  brought  against  him,  were, — that  he  had  changed  his 
opinion,  with  regard  to  the  Scriptural  Qualifications  for  admission 
to  the  Church  ;  that  he  was  very  pertinacious  in  adhering  to  his 
new  opinions ;  and  that,  in  this  way,  he  gave  his  people  a  great 
deal  of  trouble.  When  we  remember  the  great  and  general  ex- 
citement, prevailing  for  so  long  a  time  in  the  town,  the  acrimony  of 
feeling,  and  the  severity  of  censure,  so  extensively  manifested ; 
no  higher  proof  than  this  can  be  furnished,  of  uncommon  purity 
and  excellence,  on  the  part  of  an  individual  or  his  family. 

Among  the  Causes,  which  led  to  this  separation,  may  be  men- 
tioned the  ibilowing  :  the  Existing  State  of  the  Church  at  that  pe- 
riod ;  the  attempt  to  maintain   purity  of  Discipline,   m  the  case  of 

some  of  its  younger  members ;  the  personal  hostility  of  the 

fc  y  ;  and  above  all,  the  conscientious  scruples  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
as  to  the  admission  of  unconverted  members  into  the  christian 
Church.  All  these,  if  v/e  mistake  not,  so  far  as  Mr.  Edwards  had 
anv^  connection  with  them,  will  be  found  highly  honourable  to  his 
character. 

The  Existing  State  of  the  Church  of  Northampton,  dttii-Stime^ 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  429 

deserves  our  notice.  It  was,  and  had  long  been,  very  large  ;  em- 
bracing almost  all  the  married  aduhs  of  the  congregation,  as  well  as 
a  considerable  proportion  of  the  youths  of  both  sexes.  This  state 
of  things,  considered  in  itself  merely,  and  without  reference  to  the 
particular  character  or  condition  of  any  given  body  of  christians,  is 
now,  and  always  hitherto  has  been,  a  suspicious  circumstance,  as  to 
the  prevalence  of  vital  rehgion,  in  any  church  of  Christ.  Where  a 
church  includes  the  great  body  of  a  congregation,  it  must  have  been 
for  a  considerable  period,  and  still  is,  the  fashion,  to  belong  to  it ; 
and,  not  to  belong  to  it,  involves,  of  course,  a  species  of  public  dis- 
grace. In  such  circumstances,  very  strong  inducements  are  held 
out  to  irreligious  men,  to  persuade  themselves,  in  some  way  or 
other,  that  they  have  become  christians,  and  so  to  attach  themselves 
to  the  christian  church. 

In  national  churches,  and  in  those  sects  or  denominations,  which 
erect  no  effectual  barrier  against  the  incursions  of  an  unconverted 
world,  we  find  the  mass  of  the  population,  and  among  these,  of 
course,  a  vast  multitude  of  the  ungodly,  uniting  themselves  to  the 
visible  family  of  Christ,  and,  by  their  numbers  and  their  influence, 
giving  to  that  section  of  it  to  which  they  belong,  as  a  body,  their 
own  worldly  character. 

In  churches,  which  aim  at  a  more  exact  conformity  to  the  scrip- 
tural rules,  in  preventing  the  admission  of  unrenewed  persons  into 
.their  number,  there  is,  in  the  state  of  things  we  have  mentioned,  a 
constant  danger  from  this  source.  There  is  so,  with  regard  to  the 
admission  of  unworthy  members.  Such  churches  become  thus  large, 
in  consequence  of  powerful  revivals  of  religion.  A  revival  of  reli- 
gion is  a  season  of  high  excitement  in  the  body  of  a  congregation, 
even  when  nothing  moves  them  but  the  truth  of  God,  applied  di- 
rectly to  the  conscience  ;  but  especially  is  this  true,  when,  in  addi- 
tion to  this,  artificial  means  are  employed,  as  they  sometimes  un- 
happily are,  to  rouse  the  feelings  of  the  church,  and  the  passions  of 
the  people  at  large.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  when  the  immedi- 
ate presence  and  direct  influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit  are  generally 
felt,  and  universally  acknowledged,  when  convictions  of  sin  are 
wrought,  with  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  power,  in  almost  every  un- 
renewed mind,  when  every  such  mind  is  conscious  of  anxiety  and 
alarm,  as  to  its  final  welfare,  and  when  great  numbers  are  really 
pressing  into  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  those,  who  have  long  wished  to 
be  in  the  church,  because  it  is  fashionable  and  reputable  to  be 
there,  and  because,  when  there,  they  hope  to  feel  a  sense  of  saiety, 
having  heard  from  those  around  them  the  feelings  and  the  language 
of  Zion,  easily  persuade  themselves,  that  the  same  change  has 
passed  on  them,  which  others,  already  acknowledged  to  be  chris- 
tians, have  experienced,  and  therefore  offer  themselves  as  candi- 
dates for  admission  to  the  church.  In  deciding  on  the  question, 
whether  they  shall  be  admitted,  both  the  church  and  the  minister 


430  LIFE    ©P    PRESIDENT    EDWARBs. 

are  in  more  than  ordinary  danger  of  deciding  wrong.  The  feel- 
ings of  both  are  powerfully  excited,  and  of  course  their  minds  are 
less  likely  to  make  up  a  judgment,  founded  merely  on  evidence. 
Both  are  conscious,  that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  present  in  the  midst  of 
them,  carrying  on  his  own  appropriate  work  of  conviction  and  con- 
version, with  divine  power  and  glory.  Both  have  a  lively  compas- 
sion for  impenitent  sinners ;  both  wish  the  enlargement  of  the 
church ;  and  the  minister,  perhaps,  is  fondly  anticipating  the  time, 
when  he  can  speak  of  the  scores^  if  not  of  the  hundreds,  oF  his  spi- 
ritual children.  The  individuals  examined,  speak  a  common  lan- 
guage, and  tell  a  common  story — a  story  sometimes  learned  by- 
rote.  Of  a  change,  all  are  conscious ;  and  it  is  a  change  in  their 
views  and  feelings,  on  the  subject  of  religion.  They  do  not  discri- 
minate, with  regard  to  themselves,  or  one  another;  and  the  appa- 
rent difference  among  them  is  usually  not  so  great,  as  to  enable 
others  to  make  any  satisfactory  discrimination.  All  indulge  hope 
concerning  themselves,  and  each  has  already  satisfied  numbers  of 
his  own  conversion.  All  also,  during  the  months,  or  perhaps  weeks, 
that  have  elapsed,  since  this  hope  was  cherished,  have  broken  off 
their  external  sins ;  and  none  have  had  a  sufficient  length  of  trial 
to  decide,  whether  they  have  gained  a  decisive  victory  over  the 
sins  of  the  heart.  The  time  for  admission  is  come  ;  all  believe  that 
they  have  resolved  to  lead  a  life  of  religion ;  and  no  very  satisfac- 
tory reason  can  be  given,  why  one  should  be  taken,  and  another 
left.  In  these  circumstances,  when  ardent  zeal,  and  lively  hope, 
and  tender  compassion,  are  to  sit  as  umpires ;  it  is  not  surprising 
that,  even  in  such  churches,  multitudes  of  unrenewed  men  should 
succeed  in  their  application  for  admission. 

But  tlie  danger  is  at  least  equally  great,  with  regard  to  the  gene- 
ral state  of  religion  in  such  churches.  As  the  church  embraces 
the  body  of  the  congregation,  it  is  the  stronger  party,  and  can  cany 
its  own  measures,  vvidiout  opposition.  Strong  in  itself,  in  its  own 
numbers,  wisdom,  wealth  and  resources,  it  loses  its  sense  of  depen- 
dence, not  only  on  the  aid  of  the  congregation,  but  on  the  care  and 
protection  of  its  Head.  The  members  of  such  a  church  cease  to 
fear  the  gaze  of  the  surrounding  world,  and  gradually  lose  the 
watchfulness  and  circumspection,  which  the  dread  of  that  gaze  usu- 
ally inspires.  This  is  true  even  of  those,  who  are  thought  to  fur- 
nish evidence  of  their  own  piety. 

What  shall  we  say  then,  of  the  multitude,  who  have  been  thus 
im<  roperly  admitted  ?  When  their  ardour  has  once  abated,  they 
have  nodiing  left,  to  lead  them  even  to  an  external  conformity  to 
the  rules  of  the  Gospel,  except  a  regard  to  reputadon,  a  fear  of 
ecclesiastical  censure,  or  of  the  loss  of  that  mistaken  hope,  which 
they  cherish  of  their  own  safety.  The  consequence  is,  that,  find- 
ing no  enjoyment  in  religion,  they  re^irquish  the  performance  of 
one  external  duty  after  anotlier,  and  allow  themselves  in  the  prac- 


LJtlkE    OB    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS,  431 

tice  of  one  and  another  secret  sin,  until  their  lives  are  as  really,  if 
not  as  obviously,  worldly  and  irreligious,  as  they  were  before  their 
annexation  to  the  church.  Such  men,  when  constituting  a  nume- 
rous body  in  a  given  church,  unite  for  common  defence,  and  keep 
each  other  in  countenance.  By  their  numbers,  their  example  and 
their  influence,  they  diffuse  a  spirit  of  worldly-mind edness  through 
the  whole  body,  oppose  every  measure  designed  for  its  reforma- 
tion, and  effectually  prevent  the  discipline  of  the  church. 

All  this  must  have  been  emphatically  realized  in  the  Church  of 
Northampton.  The  two  principal  safeguards,  against  the  admis- 
sion of  irreligious  men  into  the  church,  are,  the  dread  of  making  an 
unsound  profession  of  religion,  on  the  part  of  the  candidate,  grow- 
ing out  of  the  firm  conviction  in  his  mind,  that  such  a  profession  in- 
volves very  great  guilt  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  leading  of  course  to 
thorough  self-examination ;  and  an  established  rule  on  the  part  oi' 
the  church,  that  none  shall  be  received,  who  do  not,  when  examin- 
ed, furnish  satisfactory  evidence  of  conversion.  These  two  safe- 
guards had  now  been  removed  from  the  Church  of  Northampton, 
for  forty-five  years ;  and  this,  under  the  express  sanction,  and  by 
the  immediate  agency,  of  so  wise  and  good  a  man  as  Mr.  Stoddard  ; 
and  the  people  had  been  taught  to  beheve,  that,  although  piety  was 
necessary  for  salvation,  it  was  not  necessary  for  Church-member- 
ship ;  but  that  communion  at  the  Lord's  Supper  was  at  once  the 
duty  and  the  privilege,  of  unconverted  men,  as  such,  and  the  most 
probable  means  of  their  conversion.  Such  had  been  the  actual 
practice  of  the  church,  during  this  long  period  ;  and  five  revivals 
of  religion,  (those  in  1712  and  1718,  that  in  1727,  and  those  in 
1734,  and  1749, — the  first,  and  the  last  two,  of  uncommon  extent 
and  power,)  dining  which  almost  all  the  existing  members  of  the 
church  had  made  a  profession  of  religion,  had  occurred  since  the 
practice  was  introduced.  The  faithful  labours  of  Mr.  Stoddard 
and  Mr.  Edwards,  during  this  long  period,  had  indeed  been  effi- 
cacious, in  preventing  many  of  the  evils  which  might  otherwise 
have  been  introduced.  But,  if  it  is  so  difficult  to  prevent  many 
false  professions,  in  powerful  revivals  of  religion,  even  in  those 
churches  w4iere  the  candidate  is  most  faithfully  examined,  and 
most  abundantly  cautioned,  respecting  the  danger  and  guilt  of  a 
false  profession,  and  solemnly  warned  to  examine  himself  with  the 
utmost  care,  because  the  chief  and  ultimate  responsibility  rests  on 
himself;  how  impossible  must  it  have  been  to  prevent  them  here, 
where  the  whole  body  of  anxious  enquirers  were  told,  under  the 
sanction  of  a  name  so  much  venerated,  that  it  was  their  duty  and 
their  privilege,  to  make  an  immediate  profession  of  religion,  and,  if 
unconverted,  that  it  would  be  the  most  probable  means  of  their  con- 
version ?  No  one,  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  Church,  or  with 
the  nature  of  man,  will  hesitate  to  say,  that  such  a  church  must  have  em- 
ijodied  within  its  pale,  an  unhappy  proportion  of  hypocrisy,  worldlv- 


432  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    BBWARDS). 

mindedness  and  irreligion ;  or  will  be  surprized  to  find  its  members,  oa 
the  tirst  plausible  occasion,  uniting  as  a  body  in  opposing  the  preva- 
lence of  truth,  and  the  welfare  of  real  religion. 

For  this  state  of  things  in  the  church,  Mr.  Edwards  was  not  re- 
sponsible. It  had  been  introduced  in  1704,  twenty-three  years 
before  his  settlement,  by  Mr.  Stoddard,  his  grandfather,  whose  col- 
league he  was  in  the  ministry,  after  a  public  controversy  with  Dr. 
Mather  of  Boston  ;  in  which,  in  the  view  of  the  churches  in  Hamp- 
shire, he  had  come  off  victorious.  The  father  of  Mr.  Edwards,  at 
East  Windsor,  had  indeed  pursued  a  different  course  ;  but  all  the 
churches  in  that  large  and  populous  county,  except  two,  and  all 
the  ministers  except  three,  sided  with  Mr.  Stoddard.  The  subject, 
except  in  this  instance,  had  not  been  made  a  matter  of  controversy 
or  of  discussion  ;  and  the  Treatise  of  Dr.  Mather  was  far  less  sa- 
tisfactory and  definitive,  than  might  well  have  been  wished  from 
one,  who  was  indeed  the  champion  of  the  truth.  It  is  not  surprising, 
therefore,  that  Mr.  Edwards,  being  settled  under  the  auspices 
of  Mr.  Stoddard,  having  never  examined  the  subject  for  himself, 
and  having  nothing  to  call  his  attendon  directly  to  the  lawfulness  or 
unlawfulness  of  the  practice,  should  have  entered  upon  it  of  course, 
and  have  pursued  it,  until  something  should  occur  to  convince  him, 
that  it  was  altogether  unscriptural.  But,  while  he  thus  acceded 
to  the  existing  state  of  things,  he  did  every  thing  probably,  which 
any  one  man  could  have  done,  to  promote  the  piety,  the  purity 
and  the  salvation,  of  the  church  and  congregation  at  Northampton. 

The  united  attempt  of  Mr.  Edwards  and  the  church  to  main- 
tain purity  of  Discipline,  was  another  of  the  causes,  which  led  to 
his  separation  from  his  people.  The  offence,  of  which  some  of 
the  younger  members  of  the  church  were  accused, — that  of  exten- 
sively circulating  books  of  an  impure  and  grossly  licentious  charac- 
ter, among  persons  of  their  own  age,  of  both  sexes,  for  the  purpose 
of  promoting  licentiousness  of  conversation  and  conduct, — deserved, 
if  ever  an  offence  deserved,  and,  in  any  ordinary  circumstances, 
would  have  received,  the  unqualified  censure  of  any  Christian 
church.  A  complaint  being  made  to  Mr.  Edwards,  as  the  mode- 
rator of  the  church,  against  those  individuals,  and  supported  by  ap- 
parently satisfactory  evidence ;  it  was  of  course  his  duty  to  lay  it 
before  the  church.  This  he  did,  v^dthout  naming  the  individuals  ; 
and  the  church,  shocked  at  the  grossness  of  this  conduct,  yielded 
to  their  own  first  convictions  of  duty,  and  unanimously  voted,  that  the 
offence  charged  ought  to  be  investigated,  and,  if  proved,  ought  to 
be  followed  by  the  Discipline  of  the  Church.  With  the  like  una- 
nimity, they  appointed  ^Ir,  Edwards  and  several  of  their  number  a 
Committee,  to  pursue  the  investigation.  The  manner,  in  which 
Mr.  Edwards  invited  the  young  people  to  meet  the  Committee, 
without  disdnguishing  the  witnesses  from  the  accused,  whedier  a 
matter  of  inadvertence  on  his  part,  or  not,  was  the  very  manner,  i« 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  433 

which  most  other  persons  would  probably  have  given  the  invitation  ; 
and,  so  fai^  as  I  can  see,  was  the  only  manner,  which  propriety 
coald  have  justified.  An  accusation  had  been  made  against  certain 
inaividuals,  sustained,  in  the  view  of  Mr.  Edwards,  by  evidence 
sufficient  to  justify  him,  in  communicating  the  fact  to  the  church. 
He  did  so,  without  naming  the  parties  accused.  The  church,  in- 
stead of  calling  for  their  names,  voted  that  the  Committee  should 
investigate  the  case ;  and,  if  the  evidence  appeared  to  support  it, 
should  lay  it  before  the  church.  With  such  a  vote  to  guide  him, 
it  would  have  been  wholly  incorrect  in  Mr.  Edwards,  as  chairman 
of  the  Committee,  to  have  publicly  mentioned  the  names  of  the 
persons  accused;  for  the  Committee  did  not  know  but  that  they 
were  innocent ;  and,  if  they  were  innocent,  to  have  named  them 
in  this  manner,  would  have  been,  to  fix  a  most  unjust  stigma  upon 
their  characters.  As,  therefore,  both  the  accused  and  the  witnesses 
must  be  present  before  the  Committee  ;  justice,  as  well  as  kind- 
ness, demanded,  that  they  should  be  named  without  discrimina- 
tion. 

We  have  seen,  that  the  individuals  thus  named  were  very  nu- 
merous ;  that  some  one  or  more  of  them  belonged  to  almost  every 
influential  family,  in  the  church,  and  in  the  towm ;  that  the  great 
body  of  the  members  of  the  church,  who  had  just  voted  at  once 
to  investigate  the  charge,  and,  if  found  true,  to  punish  the  offenders, 
on  hearing  the  names  of  their  own  children  or  relatives  mentioned, 
(though  they  did  not  know  but  they  were  summoned  merely  as 
witnesses,)  immediately  changed  their  minds,  and  determined  if 
possible  to  stop  the  enquiry ;  and  that  they  encouraged  the  young 
people,  in  openly  contemning  the  authority  of  I\Ir.  Edwards  and 
the  Church.  How  different  was  the  conduct  even  of  a  heathen, 
who,  on  discovering  his  son  to  have  been  guilty  of  an  offence, 
which  the  law^s  of  his  country  punished  with  deatli,  could  himself, 
when  sitting  as  judge,  utter  the  fatal  order,  "I,  lictor,  liga  ad  palum," 
from  that  of  these  professed  disciples  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ; 
who  first  voted  the  offence  to  deserve  the  discipline  of  the  church, 
and  then,  from  an  apprehension  that  their  own  sons  might  be  among 
those  accused  of  committing  it,  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  prevent 
the  investigation,  which  might  establish  their  guilt.  They  first  vo- 
ted that  the  honour  of  Christ,  and  the  purity  of  his  church,  demand- 
ed the  investigation ;  and  then  w^ould  not  suffer  it  to  proceed,  be- 
cause tlieir  own  sons  might  be  found  among  the  guilty.  Such  w^as 
the  conduct  of  a  sufficient  number  of  a  church,  consisting  of  more 
than  seven  hundred  members,  to  put  a  stop  to  a  case  of  christian 
discipline,  which  they  had  unanimously  resolved  to  pursue :  Math. 
X.  37,  "  He  that  loveth  son  or  daughter  more  than  me  is  not  worthy 
of  me." 

The  personal  hostility  of  the family,   residing  originally  in 

an  adjoining  town,  was  another  cause  of  exciting  opposition    to 

Vol.  I.  55 


434  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Mr.  Edwards,  among  the  people  of  Northampton.  This  hostility 
originated,  during  the  revival  of  religion  in  1734.  At  that  time, 
there  was  a  prevailing  tendency,  in  the  county,  and  the  province, 
towards  Arminianism;  and  the  individual,  with  whom  this  hostility 
commenced,  appears  to  have  been  strongly  biassed  in  its  favour. 
When  Mr.  Edwards  came  forward  publicly  to  oppose  it,  par- 
ticularly in  his  discourses  on  Justification,  with  so  much  talent 
and  success  ;  he  thought  proper  to  interfere,  and  in  a  sense  to  de- 
mand, that  Mr.  Edwards  should  desist  from  the  undertaking.  His 
failure  to  comply  with  this  demand  occasioned  a  violent  hostility  ; 
which,  being  only  rendered  rancourous  by  the  publication  of  these 
discourses,  and  by  the  firmness  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  doing  what  he 
believed  to  be  his  own  duty,  was  at  length  communicated  to  vari- 
ous members  of  the  family  of  a  superior  character,  residing  in  more 
distant  parts  of  the  country.  For  the  fourteen  years  following  that 
revival,  the  individual  in  question,  a  near  relative  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
often  too  visiting  Northampton,  and  always  riding  by  his  house,  re- 
fused except  in  three  instances  to  enter  his  door;  though  Mr.  Ed- 
wards regularly  called  on  him  and  his  family,  and,  according  to  his 
own  statement  in  a  subsequent  letter,  did  all  in  his  power  to  win 
his  kindness.  Probably  nothing  could  more  effectually  have  rivet- 
ted  this  hostility,  and  rendered  the  breach  irremediable,  than  die 
attempt  made  by  Mr.  Edwards  to  change  the  views  of  the  church 
at  Northampton,  and  of  the  country  at  large,  as  to  the  qualifications 
for  christian  communion,  in  direct  opposition  to  the  sentiments  of 
Mr.  Stoddard.  When  the  difficulties  in  the  church  had  fairly 
commenced,  this  gentieman  came  often  to  Northampton,  to  advise 
with  the  leaders  of  the  opposition,  and  threw  his  w^hole  influence 
into  that  scale.  His  brother,  also,  residing  at  a  distance,  warmly 
espoused  the  same  cause,  and  continued,  as  long  as  he  resided  in 
the  country,  tiie  confidential  friend  and  adviser  of  Mr.  Edwards' 
enemies.  When  that  brother  went  abroad,  he  himself  discharged 
the  same  office,  with  great  zeal  and  fidelity,  regularly  helping  for- 
ward the  spirit  of  disaffection  and  hostility,  until  the  separation  was 
effected. 

But  the  prime  cause  of  this  unhappy  event,  and  that,  without 
which  it  would  not  have  taken  place,  w^as  the  change  in  Mr.  Ed- 
wards' views,  respecting  the  qualifications  for  communion  at  the 
Lord's  Supper.  Having  been  educated  in  a  church,  in  which  a 
stricter  practice  had  prevailed,  he  had  some  degree  of  hesitation 
about  the  correctness  of  the  other  mode,  even  at  the  time  of  his 
ordination.  But  he  never  had  examined  the  subject ;  the  contro- 
versy respecting  it  was  over,  and  it  had  long  ceased  to  be  a  sub- 
ject of  discussion  in  the  country;  the  clergy  and  their  churches  had 
taken  their  sides,  and  great  numbers  of  both  throughout  New- 
England,  and  almost  all  in  the  immediate  vicinity,  had  adopted  the 
lax  method;  other  churches  were  becoming  more  and  more  fa- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  435 

vourable  to  it;  his  own  colleague  and  grandfather,  the  man,  whom 
from  his  infancy  he  had  been  taught  to  regard  with  the  highest  ve- 
neration, the  man,  every  w^here  known  as  "  the  venerable  Stod- 
dard," the  man  of  wisdom,  and  piety,  and  of  commanding  influ- 
ence, not  only  at  Northampton,  but  throughout  the  province,  had 
been  its  champion ;  no  very  able  w^ork,  on  the  other  side  of  the 
question,  had  then  been  WTitten;  many  arguments  of  great  plausi- 
bility could  certainly  be  adduced  in  its  favour  ;  and  many  clergy- 
men, of  sound  understanding  and  unquestioned  piety,  had  been 
convinced  by  these  arguments,  that  this  was  the  mode  of  admission 
pointed  out  in  the  w^ord  of  God  :  in  these  circumstances,  it  is  not 
surprizing  that  a  young  man  of  twenty-three  should  conclude,  that 
the  practice  was  probably  right,  and  adopt  it  of  course. 

The  change,  in  JNIr.  Edwards'  views  on  this  subject,  did  not  take 
place  suddenly,  but  was  the  result  of  time  and  circumstances,  and 
the  effect  of  long  and  laborious  investigation.  In  the  revival  of 
1734,  a  considerable  number  of  those,  who  became  communi- 
cants, appear  to  have  discov^ered,  ultimately,  no  evidence  of  the 
christian  character,  and  no  interest  in  religion.  They  were  mem- 
bers of  the  christian  church,  without  one  characteristic  to  qualify 
them  for  belonging  to  it.  This  fact,  unquestionably,  led  Mr.  Ed- 
wards to  doubt  the  propriety  of  their  admission.  His  doubts  must 
have  been  greatly  strengthened,  in  the  subsequent  revival  of  1740; 
when  a  still  larger  number  of  the  same  description  appear  to  have 
been  admitted;  and,  especially,  when  he  saw  them,  in  1744,  uni- 
ting their  whole  strength  and  influence  to  prevent  the  w^holesome 
discipline  of  the  church,  and  drawing  after  them  great  numbers  of 
a  better  character.  These  events  of  providence  must  have  set  in 
a  striking  light  the  absurdity,  and  the  danger,  of  unsanctified  pro- 
fessions. 

The  more  Mr.  Edwards  examined  the  subject,  the  more  were 
his  convictions  strengthened,  that  the  prevailing  mode  of  admission 
was  irrational  and  unscriptural.  As  he  knew  that  the  question  was 
a  practical  one,  one  on  w hich  he  must  act,  when  his  mind  was  ful- 
ly made  up,  and  that  his  acting  against  the  lax  mode  of  admission, 
(to  which  his  conscience  would  of  course  constrain  him,  if  he  was 
ultimately  convinced  that  it  was  unlawful,)  would  be  followed  with 
important  consequences,  not  only  to  himself  and  his  family,  but  to 
the  people  of  Nortiiampton,  and  to  the  whole  church  of  the  Pro- 
vince ;  he  read,  with  care,  every  treatise  he  could  find,  in  favour  of 
the  lax  mode  of  admission,  and  endeavoured  to  allow^  ev^ery  argu- 
ment on  that  side  its  full  w^eight ;  that,  if  at  length  compelled  to 
take  the  oflier  side,  he  might  certainly  know  that  it  was  the  side  of 
truth,  and  that  no  argument  could  shake  it. 

It  should  here  be  remembered,  that,  while  Mr.  Edwards  was 
thus  carefully  and  conscientiously  examining  this  subject,  he  per- 
fectly knew,  that  he  could  not  openly  take  the  side  of  strict  com- 


430  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

nuinion,  without  imminent  hazard  of  sacrificing  the  comfort  and 
hopes  of  himself  and  his  family.  The  cnurch  and  people  of  North- 
ampton, with  scarcely  a  dissenting  voice,  were  most  bigotedly  at- 
tached to  the  other  mode :  some  of  them,  because  they  believed  it 
the  scriptural  mode,  and  conscientiously  regarded  the  sacrament 
as  a  converting  ordinance;  others,  because  it  was  the  lax  mode, 
and  of  course  grateful  to  a  mind  governed  by  lax  principles  ;  and 
all,  because  it  had  been  introduced  and  defended  by  Mr.  Stoddard, 
and  had  now  been  practised  for  nearly  half  a  century.  If  he  es- 
poused the  stricter  mode,  he  must  come  out  publicly  in  its  defence, 
and  of  course  in  direct  opposition,  to  his  grandfather.  The 
churches  and  clergy  of  the  county,  with  scarcely  a  dissenting  voice, 
w^ere  absolutely  determined  to  maintain  that  mode,  and  would,  in 
that  case,  be  decidedly  opposed  to  him.  The  minister  of  Spring- 
field had  not  forgotten  the  opposition,  made  by  him  to  his  own  set- 
tlement.    Four  others  of  the  clergy  were  connected  with  the 

family,  and  accustomed  to  act  with  them  of  course.  Numbers 
of  the  clergy,  were  either  openly  or  covertly  Ai'minian  in  senti- 
ment ;  and,  in  consequence  of  the  successful  attacks  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards on  their  own  system  of  faith  and  practice,  were  by  no  means 
to  be  regarded  as  his  friends.  He  was  past  forty-five  years  of  age  ; 
he  w^as  almost  wholly  without  property ;  and  he  had  eight  children 
all  dependent  on  his  salary  for  their  support.  That  salary  w^as 
the  largest  salary  paid  by  any  country  congregation  in  New-Eng- 
land. If  he  came  out  openly  on  this  side,  he  well  knew  that  his 
church  and  people,  in  a  body,  would  turn  against  him,  and  demand 
his  dismission ;  and  that  the  clergy  and  churches  ,  of  the  county, 
who  would  in  all  probability  be  the  umpires  in  case  of  any  contro- 
versy, would,  with  scarce  an  exception,  side  with  his  people. 
Rare  indeed  is  the  instance,  in  which  any  individual  has  entered 
on  the  investigation  of  a  difficult  point  in  casuistry,  with  so  many 
motives  to  bias  his  judgment.  Yet  Mr.  Edwards,  in  examining 
the  arguments  on  both  sides,  seems  from  the  beginning  to  have 
risen  above  every  personal  consideration,  and  to  have  been  guided 
only  by  his  conscience.  At  every  step  of  his  progress  towards 
the  ultimate  result,  he  saw  these  accumulated  evils  before  him ; 
and,  when  his  mind  at  length  decided,  that  he  could  never  more, 
with  a  clear  conscience,  receive  any  one  into  the  church,  upon 
the  lax  plan  of  admission ;  he  threw^  himself  on  the  care  and  pro- 
tection of  a  faithful  God  with  the  very  trust  and  courage  of  a 
martyr. 

Having  thus  found,  that  a  minute  survey  of  the  causes,  which 
led  to  the  dismission  of  Mr.  Edwards,  only  serves  to  exhibit  his 
evangelical  integrity,  and  the  general  excellence  of  his  christian 
character,  in  a  clearer  and  stronger  light ;  we  will  now  review  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  '137 

conduct  of  the  various  parties,  connected  with  this  unhappy  contro- 
versy, from  its  commencement  to  its  close. 

The  time  and  manner,  adopted  by  Mr.  Edwards,  for  making  his 
sentiments  known,  are  worthy  of  our  observation.  Several  )'ears 
before  the  uUimate  crisis,  his  mind  was  so  far  setded  as  to  the  sub- 
ject of  his  enquiry,  that  he  found,  unless  he  could  obtain  more 
light  with  regard  to  it,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him  to  receive 
any  one  into  the  church,  according  to  the  existing  mode  of  admis- 
sion. At  this  time,  he  "  freely  and  openly  expressed  this  opinion, 
before  several  of  the  people ;  which  occasioned  it  to  be  talked  ot 
among  many  in  the  town,  and  in  various  parts  of  the  land."  In 
the  w^ork  on  Religious  Affections,  also,  he  intentionally  gave  very 
explicit  intimations  of  his  views  of  Visible  Christians,  and  of  the 
nature  of  a  Christian  Profession  ;  particularly,  in  die  following  re- 
marks :  "  A  Profession  of  Chrisdanity  implies  a  profession  of  all, 
that  belongs  to  the  essence  of  Christianity. — The  })rofession  must  be 
of  the  thing  professed.  For  a  man  to  profess  Christianity,  is  for  him 
to  declare  that  he  has  it;  and  therefore,  so  much  as  belongs  to  a 
true  definition  of  a  thing,  so  much  is  essential  to  a  true  declaration 
of  that  thing.  If  we  take  only  a  part  of  Christianity,  and  leave  out 
an  essential  part ;  what  we  take  is  not  Christianity,  because  some- 
thing oftlie  essence  of  it  is  wanting.  So  if  we  profess  only  a  part, 
and  leave  out  an  essential  part ;  what  we  profess  is  not  Christianity. 
Thus,  in  order  to  a  profession  of  Christianity,  we  must  profess,  that 
we  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Messiah, — and  that  Jesus  made  satis- 
faction for  our  sins,  and  other  essential  doctrines  of  the  Gospel ; 
because  a  belief  of  these  things  is  essential  to  chrisdanity.  But 
other  things  are  as  essential  to  rehgion,  as  an  orthodox  belief; 
wdiich,  of  course,  it  is  as  necessary  that  we  should  profess,  in  order 
to  our  being  truly  said  to  profess  chrisdanity.  Thus,  it  is  essential 
to  chrisdanity,  that  we  repent  of  our  sins,  that  we  be  convinced  of 
our  own  sinfulness,  that  we  are  sensible  we  have  justly  exposed 
ourselves  to  the  wrath  of  God,  that  our  hearts  renounce  all  sin,  that 
we  do  with  our  whole  hearts  embrace  Christ  as  our  only  Saviour, 
that  we  love  him  above  all,  that  we  are  willing  for  his  sake  to  for- 
sake all  that  we  have,  and  that  w^e  give  up  ourselves  to  be  endrely 
and  forever  his.  These  things  as  truly  belong  to  the  essence  of 
chrisdanity,  as  the  belief  of  any  of  the  doctrines  of  the  Gospel ; 
and  therefore,  the  profession  of  them  as  much  belongs  to  a  chris- 
tian profession. — And,  as  to  those  diings,  w^hich  chrisdans  should 
express  in  their  profession, — ^they  ought  to  express  their  repentance 
of  sin — their  convicdon,  that  God  would  be  just  in  their  damnadon 
— their  faith  in  Christ,  and  reliance  on  him  as  their  Saviour,  and 
joyfully  receiving  his  Gospel — their  rehance  on  his  righteousness 
and  strength,  and  their  devodon  to  him  as  their  only  Lord  and 
Saviour — that  they  give  up  themselves  entirely  to  Chitst,  and  to 
God  through  him — their  willingness  of  heart  to  embrace  religion, 


438  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

with  all  its  difficulties,  and  to  walk,  in  a  way  of  obedience  to  God, 
universally,  and  perseveringly — and  that  all  their  hearts  and  souls 
are  in  those  engagements  to  be  the  Lord's,  and  forever  to  serve 
him. — Hence,  to  entitle  men  to  full  esteem  and  charity  as  sincere 
professors  of  Christianity,  there  must,  according  to  the  rules  of 
Christ  and  his  apostles,  be  a  visibly  holy  life,  and  a  profession, 
either  expressing,  or  plainly  implying,  the  things  which  have  been 
mentioned."''*  Plainly,  no  reader  of  the  preceding  passages  could 
be  at  a  loss,  as  to  the  views,  which  the  writer  then  entertained,  as 
to  the  nature  of  a  christian  profession. 

These  declarations,  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Edwards,  were  all  that 
he  ought  to  have  made,  before  he  was  called  to  act ;  and  it  so  hap- 
pened, in  the  providence  of  God,  that,  from  the  case  of  discipline 
in  1744,  to  December,  1748,  not  a  solitary  individual  offered  him- 
self, as  a  candidate  for  admission  to  the  church.  The  church,  as  a 
body,  by  their  conduct  on  that  occasion,  there  is  too  much  reason 
to  believe,  had,  in  a  very  dreadful  manner,  grieved  the  Holy  Spi- 
rit ;  and,  as  a  necessary  consequence,  though  Mr.  Edwards  preach- 
ed ^^^th  the  same  faithfulness  and  power  as  in  1727,  in  1734,  and 
in  1740,  and  as  he  had  preached  at  Leicester  and  Enfield,  where 
God  had  signally  acknowledged  and  blessed  his  labours,  the  work 
of  conviction  and  conversion  w^as,  during  this  long  interval,  wholly 
unknown.  When,  however,  the  first  candidate  for  admission  to 
the  church  presented  himself,  Mr.  Edwards,  with  entire  openness 
and  frankness,  informed  the  Committee  of  the  Church,  that  it  was 
impossible  for  him,  with  a  clear  conscience,  to  receive  him,  without 
a  profession  of  personal  religion.  At  the  same  time,  he  proposed 
to  deliver  the  reasons  of  his  opinion  from  the  pulpit ;  but  to  this,  the 
Committee  wholly  refused  their  consent. 

The  Treatise  on  the  Qualifications  for  Communion,  on  various 
accounts,  here  deserves  our  notice.  It  was  ^mtten  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, for  the  perusal  of  his  people,  because  they  would  not  allow 
him  to  preach  on  the  subject.  It  was  prepared  with  a  full  convic- 
tion, that,  as  to  the  people  of  Northampton,  it  would  be  prepared 
in  vain ;  with  a  conviction  that  most  of  those,  who  would  not  hear 
him  preach  to  them  on  the  subject  from  the  desk,  w^ould  not  read 
it  from  the  press,  and  that  those  of  them,  who  did  read  it,  could 
not  read  it  with  calmness  and  candour.  It  was  prepared  with  un- 
exampled rapidity — only  nine  or  ten  weeks  ha\ing  elapsed,  from 
the  time  it  was  commenced,  till  it  was  in  the  printer's  hands — and 
this  too,  in  addition  to  all  tlie  ordinary  duties  of  an  extensive  parish, 
and  all  the  multifarious  demands  of  a  parochial  contest.  Yet, 
it  is  merely  a  work  of  calm,  logical  reasoning,  without  a  solitary  re- 
mark indicative  of  excitement,  or  feeling,  in  the  author,  or  the 
slightest  intimation,  in  any  part  of  it,  that  it  was  written  in  the  heat 

=^  See  vol.  V.  pp.  279—281. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  439 

of  a  personal  controversy.  No  mind  could  act  thus,  in  circumstan- 
ces like  these,  which  had  not  learned,  in  a  degree  unusual,  if  not 
singular,  the  duty  of  trusting  in  die  all-sufficiency  of  God,  and  of 
yielding  a  holy  and  unreserved  submission  to  his  will. 

The  offer  made  by  Mr.  Edwards  to  his  people,  April  13th,  1749, 
just  before  this  Treatise  was  ready  for  the  press,  while  it  indicates 
in  a  very  striking  manner,  the  candour,  integrity  and  disinterested- 
ness, of  his  mind,  also  shows  the  exact  ground  which  he  took  at  the 
opening  of  the  controversy: — "I,  the  subscriber,  do  hereby  signify 
and  declare,  that,  if  my  people  will  wait  till  the  book  I  am  prepar- 
ing, relative  to  the  admission  of  members  into  the  church,  is  pub- 
lished, IwiU  resign  the  ministry  over  this  church,  if  the  church  desires 
it,  after  they  have  had  opportunity  pretty  generally  to  read  my  said 
book,  and  they  have  asked  advice  of  a  Council  mutually  chosen,  and 
followed  their  advice,  with  regard  to  the  regular  steps  to  be  taken  pre- 
vious to  their  vote  :  Provided  none  of  the  brethren  be  permitted  to 
vote,  but  such  as  have  either  read  it,  or  heard  from  the  pulpit  what 
I  have  to  say,  in  defence  of  the  doctrine  which  is  the  subject  of  it; 
and  that  a  regular  Council  do  approve  of  my  thus  resigning  my 
pastoral  office  over  this  church."  Mr.  Edwards  well  knew,  that, 
at  the  time  of  his  ordination,  the  Church  at  Northampton  had  been 
committed  to  his  especial  care  ;  that  he  had  then  received  a  most 
solemn  charge  to  "  feed  the  flock  of  God,  over  which  the  Holy 
Ghost  had  made  him  an  overseer ;"  that  he  was  direcdy  responsi- 
ble to  Christ,  for  the  manner  in  which  he  discharged  this  duty,  and 
that  he  could  not  voluntarily  rehnquish  his  charge,  except  for  rea- 
sons of  the  most  weighty  character.  He  could  not,  therefore,  think 
of  resigning  it,  without  using  every  lawful  means  in  his  power,  to 
bring  them  acquainted  with  what  he  fully  believed  to  be  taught  in 
the  word  God,  relative  to  a  subject,  which  was  most  indmately  con- 
nected with  the  purity  and  prosperity  of  that  church,  and  of  the 
whole  Church  of  Christ.  This,  he  at  once  claimed  as  his  right, 
and  insisted  on  as  his  duty.  If  he  consented  to  a  separation,  be- 
fore he  had  had  such  an  opportunity  of  declaring  to  them  the  truth  of 
God  on  this  subject,  he  knew  not  how  to  jusdfy  himself,  before  the 
judgment-seat  of  Christ.  At  the  same  time,  he  offered  voluntarily 
to  resign  his  office,  after  he  had  had  this  opportunity,  if  they  were 
not  satisfied,  that  his  views  of  the  subject  were  scriptural ;  provided 
a  regular  Ecclesiastical  Council  should  sanction  such  resignation. 
No  offer  could  be  more  fair  than  this.  It  left  the  ukimate  decision 
of  the  question  to  the  people  themselves,  after  they  had  read,  or 
heard,  what  he  had  to  offer  with  regard  to  it.  This  proves,  con- 
clusively, that,  in  opposing  for  a  while  their  violent  measures,  in 
endeavouring  to  procure  his  dismission,  he  aimed  simply  to  sadsfy 
the  demands  of  his  own  conscience,  and  to  prevent  liis  people 
from  committing,  what  he  regarded  as  a  most  aggravated  sin, 
that  of  rejecdng  him  as  their  minister,  without  giving  him  any  op- 


440  LIFE    OF    PIlESIDE.sT    EDWARDS. 

portiinity  to  lay  before  them  what  God  had  taiiglu  them,  respecting 
the  subject  in  question. 

The  refusal  of  the  people  to  suffer  Mr.  Edwards  to  preach  to  them, 
on  the  Qualifications  for  Communion,  was  a  sin  of  no  ordinary  mag- 
nitude.    The  strict  mode  of  admission  was  the  primitive  mode,  in 
all  the  New  England  churches.     It  was  so  in  the  Church  of  North- 
ampton, and   had  prevailed  in  that  church   for    forty-four   years. 
The  lax  method  had  been  publicly  condemned  by  tlie  General  Sy- 
nod of  Massachusetts,  in  1679,  as  a  great  and  public  sin,  which 
provoked  the  judgments  of  heaven,  and  which  must  be  repented  of, 
and  put  away,  if  those  judgments   were  to  be  averted.     Of  this 
Synod  Mr.    Stoddard  was   a  member,    and  had  himself  joined  in 
this  very  vote.     It  had  been  introduced  into  the  Church  of  North- 
ampton, without  any  vote  of  the  church,  or  alteration  of  their  ori- 
ginal Platform,   by  Mr.  Stoddard's  forming  a  short  profession,  for 
the  candidates  for   admission,  agreeably  to  his  own  views,  and  the 
church  submitting,  though  not  without  uneasiness,  to  his  authority. 
The  great  body  of  wise  and  good  men,  in  the  church  at  large,  and 
in  New  England,  had  been,  and  sull  were,  in  favour  of  the  primi- 
tive mode  ;  and  the  great  majority  of  the  ministers  and  churches  in 
New  England  sdll  adhered  to  it.     Many  arguments,  and  those  of 
great  apparent  force,  could  certainly  be    alleged   from  the   word 
of  God,  in  favour  of  that   mode,    and    against   the    other.     Mr. 
Edwards  was  their  pastor,  and  spiritual  watchman  and  guide,  set 
over  them  by  divine  appointment,  to  teach  them  the  truth  of  God, 
and  to  guard  diem  against  error.     He  was  required  by  Him,  whose 
commission  he  bore,  to  declare  to  them  the  whole  counsel  of  God, 
and  to  maintain  the  Discipline  of  the  Church  in  its  purity.     They 
had  seen  his  preaching  honoured  of  God,   far  beyond  that  of 
any  other  clergyman  in  America.     They  acknowledged  him  to  be, 
and  boasted  of  him  as  being,  a  preacher  of  singular  talents  and  wis- 
dom ;  one.  whose  reasoning  powers  were  of  the  highest  order,  and 
who  shed  uncommon  light  on  the  sacred  scriptures.     Such  already 
was  his  character,  throughout  the  Colonies,  as  well  as  throughout 
England  and  Scotland.     As  their  minister,  it  was,  beyond  all  con- 
troversy, his  plain  right,  and  obvious  duty,  to  preach  to  them  his 
own  views  of  truth,  on  that  subject,  and  on  every  other;  and  it  was 
as  certainly  their  duty  to  hear  what  he  preached,  and  to  examine, 
with  docility  and  prayer,  whether  he  did  not  tell  them  the  truth. 
Waiving  the  direct  assertion  of  this  right,  he  came  and  distinctly 
offered  to  preach  to  them  on  the  subject.     He  told  them,  that  he 
had  examined  it  with  the  utmost  care  and  attention,  giving  the  ar- 
guments in   favour  of  the  prevailing  mode  all  the  weight  and  con- 
sideration wdiich  he  honestly  could  ;  that,  as  the  result  of  this  ex- 
amination, his  conscience  would  not  suffer   him  to  proceed  in  that 
mode  any  longer,  and  that  he  wished  to  lay  before  them,  from  the 
word  of  God,  those  arguments  by  which  his  own  mind  had  been 


Lli'E    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  441 

convinced.  This  proposal  they  rejected,  in  the  most  direct  and 
explicit  manner,  and  that  in  numerous  instances.  They  did  so,  in 
the  Committee  of  the  Church,  when  Mr.  Edwards  first  proposed 
it  ;*  in  the  Precinct  meeting  ;f  in  the  meeting  of  the  Church ; J 
and  in  every  subsequent  meeting  of  each  of  these  bodies,  when  the 
subject  was  proposed.  Mr.  Edwards  also  urged  them  repeatedly, 
and  by  every  consideration  of  duty,  to  submit,  the  question  to  the 
neighbouring  ministers,  all  but  one  of  whom  were  on  their  side, 
Whether  he  had  not  a  right  to  preach  on  the  point  in  controversy, 
and  whether  it  was  not  reasonable  that  they  should  hear  him  ;  but 
they  refused.  He  then  told  them,  that  they  might  employ  any 
ministers  they  chose,  to  preach  in  his  pulpit  on  the  other  side,  and 
in  answer  to  his  arguments ;  but  they  still  refused.^  Nay,  they 
would  not  even  give  him  an  opportunity  to  state  the  reasons  of  his 
opinion,  in  private  conversation. 

The  reason  they  assigned,  w^hy  they  would  not  suffer  him  to 
preach,  unfolds  the  actual  state  of  their  minds.  It  was,  because 
they  feared,  that  his  preaching  would  make  parties  in  the  toivn.  In 
other  words,  the  great  body  of  the  people  were  now  united  against 
Mr.  Edwards;  the  leaders  of  the  opposition  were  resolved  on  his 
dismission ;  and  they  were  afraid,  if  he  •  should  preach  his  senti- 
ments, that  he  would  convince  a  large  number  of  them  that  he  was 
right,  and  thus,  by  making  a  party  in  his  own  favour,  defeat  the 
measure  on  which  they  had  resolved.  This  was  the  same  as  to 
acknowdedge,  that  the  people  at  large  had  not  examined  the  ques- 
tion, and  that,  if  they  were  to  hear  the  discourses  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
so  many  of  them  would  probably  be  led,  by  the  force  of  argument, 
to  embrace  his  side  of  the  question  in  dispute,  as  to  hazard  the  suc- 
cess of  their  measures.  Thus,  when  it  was  pre-eminently  their 
duty  to  hear  the  counsel  of  God,  on  a  great  pracdcal  question, 
deeply  interesting  to  their  welfare  as  a  church,  they  deliberately,  and 
repeatedly  refused  to  hear  it,  when  brought  to  them  by  the  man,whom 
God  had  appointed  to  declare  it  to  them  ;  and  for  the  express  reason, 
that  they  feared  his  arguments  might  convince  great  numbers  of 
them,  that  they  were  in  the  wrong.  This  was,  as  a  church  and 
people,  deliberately  to  reject  the  counsel  of  God,  and  to  declare,  that 
they  had  made  up  their  minds  without  examination,  and  would  pur- 
sue their  own  course,  whether  God  approved  of  it,  or  not. 

The  same  spirit  was  exhibited,  vAxh.  regard  to  the  Treatise  on 
the  Scriptural  Qualifications  for  Communion.  The  ardour,  mani- 
fested on  the  part  of  numbers,  to  have  it  printed,  did  not  arise 
from  a  desire  to  read  it,  and  examine  its  arguments,  but  from  a 
wish  to  remove  the  objection,  raised  against  proceeding  to  ultimate 
measures,  that  the  people  had  had  no  opportunity  to  hear  Mr.  Ed- 
wards' sentiments.     When  the  work  was  published,  the  reading  of 

*  Feb.  1749.         t  Oct.  19.         %  Oct.  22.         ^  Nov.  3. 

Vol.  L  56 


442  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

it  was  discouraged ;  and  when  numbers  of  those  who  read  it  were 
convinced  of  the  soundness  of  the  arguments,  the  town,  without 
generally  reading  it,  held  repeated  meetings,  and  by  vote  applied  to 
two  different  clergymen  to  answer  it. 

The  next  proposal  of  Mr.  Edwards*  to  the  church,  that  a  Coun- 
cil, mutually  chosen,  should  be  called,  to  consider  of  the  subsisting 
controversy  between  pastor  and  people,  and  give  their  advice,  as  to 
what  course  should  be  taken  to  bring  it  to  an  issue,  and  what  should 
be  done  to  promote  the  church's  peace  and  prosperity ;  was  so 
precisely  diat,  which  justice  and  the  platform  of  the  churches  re- 
quired, that  the  Committee  of  the  church,  with  only  one  dissentient, 
made  a  report,  advising  its  acceptance.  The  church  refused  to 
comply,  on  the  ground,  that  they  might  be  ensnared  and  caught ; 
as  such  a  Council  might  recommend  some  adjustment  of  the  exist- 
ing difficulties,  to  which  the  church  would  not  agree,  and  as  they 
might  also  advise  to  the  admission  of  those  individuals,  who  were 
willing  to  make  a  full  profession  of  religion. 

The  plan,  adopted  and  pursued  from  the  commencement  to  the 
close  of  the  controversy,  of  bringing  every  measure  primarily  be- 
fore the  Precinct  meeting,f  of  deliberating  and  resolving  upon  it 
there,  and  then  of  recommending  to  the  church  to  adopt  it;  was  a 
specimen  of  craft  and  management,  worthy  of  a  poHtical  cabal.  In 
the  Precinct  meeting,  they  could  pursue  their  own  measures  with- 
out interruption ;  for  IMr.  Edwards  could  not  be  present.  Here, 
they  could  make  any  representation,  and  employ  aiiy  means  of  ex- 
citement ;  for  they  had  the  whole  Town  to  work  upon.  Here, 
men  of  all  characters  could  meet,  and  vote  what  should  be  done  in 
a  church  of  Christ ;  and  then,  retiring  and  separating,  could  find 
that  their  measures  were  voted  over  again,  when  those  of  their 
number,  who  were  members  of  that  church,  had  assembled  by 
themseh^es. 

The  controversy,  respecting  the  choice  of  a  Council,  exliibits 
the  parties  in  a  similar  light.  A  Mutual  Council  is,  ex  vi  termini, 
a  Council,  in  the  choice  of  which,  each  of  two  contending  parties 
stands  on  an  equal  footing,  or  has  an  equal  advantage.  It  is  a 
Council,  mutually  chosen:  either  by  both  parties  agreeing  upon  all 
the  members,  or  by  each  choosing  half  of  the  members.  But  if 
each  may  choose  half  of  the  members,  each  may  certainly  say,  w^ho 
they  shall  be.  Any  attempt  to  restrict  the  choice  of  one  party,  is  there- 
fore a  direct  invasion  of  his  right,  a  gross  perversion  of  justice,  and 
a  complete  subversion  of  the  principles,  on  which  the  government  of 
the  churches  in  Massachusetts  was  founded. 


*  Nov.  13,  1749. 

t  The  inhabitants  of  a  Town,  of  all  classes,  when  met  to  deliberate  and  de- 
cide on  parochial  affairs,  constituted  what,  at  that  time,  was  called  in  the  pro- 
vince, a  Precinct  Meetins:. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  443 

Mr.  Edwards,  dierefore,  iiad  a  perfect  right  to  select  his  own 
half  of  the  Council;  and  justice  to  himself  and  his  family  demand- 
ed it.  Had  he  originally  asserted  this  right,  and  perse\  ered  in  the 
assertion,  no  ultimate  measure  could  have  heen  adopted,  but  by  a 
Council  fairly  chosen,  and  equally  balanced.  For  the  sake  of 
peace,  he  unfortunately  relinquished  a  part  of  this  claim,  in  the  out- 
set ;  and  then,  both  the  Precinct  and  the  Church  were  determined, 
that  he  should  relinquish  the  remainder.  Under  the  pretence,  that 
the  Platform  recommended  Councils  to  be  taken,  generally,  from 
churches  in  the  vicinity,  they  insisted,  that  the  choice  of  both  par- 
ties should  be  confined  to  the  county  of  Hampshire.  This  was  a 
mere  pretence ;  for  neither  the  church  of  Northampton,  nor  any 
other  churcli,  in  the  county  or  out  of  it,  had  ever  adhered  to  this 
recommendation ;  and  that  church  had  even  been  represented  in 
the  Councils  of  other  provinces.  The  church  perfectly  knew,  that 
only  one  church  in  the  vicinity,  and  only  two  churches  and  three 
ministers  in  the  county,  sided  with  Mr.  Edwards,  that  the  subject 
in  controversy  had  excited  sharp  contention,  that  many  of  the  min- 
isters and  churches  of  the  county  had  warmly  disapproved  of  the 
course,  pursued  by  Mr.  Edwards,  in  advocating  the  cause  of  strict 
admission,  that  three  of  the  ministers  of  the  county  w  ere  connected 
with  the family,*  and  that  one  of  themf  was  personally  oppo- 
sed to  him,  from  his  having  publicly  defended  the  proceedings  of 
tlie  Council,  which  refused  to  ordain  him.  They  perfectly  knew, 
therefore,  that,  if  the  Council  were  taken  exclusively  from  the 
county,  ahiiost  every  individual  in  it  would  be  on  their  side,  and 
opposed  to  Mr.  Edwards,  on  the  very  question  in  dispute. 
This  was  the  reason,  why  they  contended  so  earnestly,  for  a  Coun- 
cil exclusively  from  the  county.  Probably  no  example  of  injustice, 
as  to  the  choice  of  umpires,  more  palpable  and  shameless,  is  to  be 
found  on  the  records  of  controversy.  They  were  resolved  to  have 
no  Council,  unless  one,  whose  decision  they  could  know  before- 
hand would  be  in  their  favour. 

The  course  of  conduct  pursued  by  the  first  Council,  as  to  the 
points  submitted  to  them,  is  scarcely  less  deserving  of  censure. 
One  of  these  points  was,  whether  Mr.  Edwards  had  not  a  right  to 
go  out  of  the  county,  in  selecting  his  part  of  the  Council ;  another, 
whether  he  had  not  a  right  to  preach  on  the  qualifications  for  com- 
nmnion,  and  whether  it  was  not  reasonable  that  the  people  should 
hear  liim.  The  members  of  the  Council,  in  conversation  with  the 
parties,  acknowledged  freely,  that  these  were  rights,  which  Mr. 
Edw^ards  could  indisputably  challenge  ;  but  utterly  neglected  to  say 
so  in  their  Result.     Their  private  conversadons,  they  well  knew, 

'■"  Two  of  tlu^e,  and  the  brother  of  the  third,  were  actually  selected  by  the 
Church,  for  the  Decisive  Council. 

♦ 
t  This  gentleman  was  also  selected  for  the  Decisive  Council. 


444  LIFE    OF    PliESlDENT    EDWARDS. 

Mr.  Edwards  could  make  no  use  of;  but  their  Official  Award,  in 
their  Result,  would  have  ^iven  him  a  very  great  advantage.  This 
neglect  could  not  have  been  an  oversight ;  because  Mr.  Edwards 
urged  it  upon  them,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  as  what  he  had  a 
perfect  right  to  demand  of  them  as  umpires,  that  they  should  offi- 
cially decide  these  questions.  Their  failure  to  do  it,  therefore,  was  - 
unquestionably  owing,  either  to  their  disagreement  with  Mr.  Ed- 
wards on  the  main  question,  or  to  their  unwillingness  to  offend  the 
people  of  Northampton ;  and,  in  either  case,  was  w^holly  inconsis- 
tent with  evangelical  integrity."^  They  had  accepted  the  office  of 
umpires,  and  had  heard  the  cause  ;  and  then,  they  would  not  give 
an  award  in  favour  of  one  of  the  parties,  when,  in  conversation, 
they  freely  owned,  before  both,  that  he  was  in  the  right.  Proba- 
bly no  similar  example  can  be  found,  in  the  annals  of  Arbitration. 

When  Mr.  Edwards,  from  a  determination  not  to  call  a  Defini- 
tive Council,  until  he  had  done  what  lay  in  his  power  to  convince 
the  people  of  their  error,  had  commenced  a  series  of  Lectures,  on 
the  point  in  controversy,  the  same  spirit  w  as  still  manifested ;  for, 
though  the  Lectures  were  w^ell  attended,  more  than  half  of  the  audi- 
ence were  from  abroad,  a  large  proportion  of  the  church  and  peo- 
ple refusing  to  be  present. 

With  the  constitution  of  the  Final  Council,  the  individual  already 
referred  to,  as  personally  hostile  to  Mr.  Edwards,  and  as  tlie  friend 
and  counsellour  of  his  enemies,  could  scarcely  have  been  better 
satisfied,  had  he  selected  them  himself;  for  one  of  the  five  was  his 
near  kinsman,  another  his  own  minister,  another  the  brother  of  his 
brother-in-law,  and  the  fourth  and  fifth,  the  two  most  decided  op- 
posers  of  Mr.  Edwards  among  them  all :  one,  in  consequence  of 
his  having  defended  the  course  pursued  by  the  Council,  which  re- 
fused to  ordain  him;  and  the  other,  from  violent  hostility  to  the 
system  of  doctrines,  of  which  Mr.  Edwards  had  been  a  most  suc- 
cessful champion.  Each  of  these  gentlemen,  also,  was  a  warm 
advocate  of  the  lax  mode  of  admission  ;  and  several  of  them  deci- 
dedly hostile  to  revivals  of  religion,  and  to  the  doctrines  of  grace. 
Their  delegates  appear  to  have  been  men,  who  would  act  with  their 
ministers.  The  church  of  Cold  Spring,  one  of  those  selected  by 
Mr.  Edwards,  refused  to  send  its  messenger ;  and,  though  the  pas- 
tor of  that  church  sat  and  acted  with  the  Council,  the  umpires  cho- 
sen by  Mr.  Edwards  were  still  in  the  minority,  on  every  vote. 
This  was  in  direct  opposition  to  the  mutual  understanding  and  agree- 
ment of  the  parties.  In  the  ultimate  arrangement  of  Mr.  Edw^ards 
and  the  people,  when  the  final  Council  was  chosen,  it  was  expli- 
citly understood,  that  neither  party  should  have  advantage  of  the 
other  in  point  of  numbers  ;  and  when  Mr.  Edwards  insisted  on  this 


'^  These  remarks   refer,  of  course,   only   to    those,   who   were   in   tlie   ma- 
jority. 


LIFE    OF    PRE61UENT    EDWARDS.  445 

understanding,  and  declared  that,  according  to  the  agreement  of 
the  parties,  he  was  not  bound  to  proceed  with  such  a  disparity,  the 
majorit)^  refused  to  postpone  the  case  until  it  could  be  remedied. 
This  was  doing  the  very  injustice,  at  which  the  church  had  long 
aimed  in  vain. 

Soon  after  Mr.  Edwards  w^as  dismissed,  the  church  and  people 
voted,  that  he  should  not  be  allowed  to  preach  in  their  pulpit ;  and 
actually  closed  it  against  him,  even  when  they  had  no  one  else  to 
preach.  They  preferred  being  without  the  preaching  of  the  gos- 
pel, to  hearing  Mr.  Edwards.  And  of  the  conduct  of  the  church, 
when,  at  the  request  of  his  friends  in  Northampton,  but  wholly  in 
opposition  to  his  own  opinion,  a  Council  of  ministers  had  been  con- 
vened, to  advise  them  as  to  their  duty,  the  letter  of  Mr.  Hawley 
is  an  exposure,  which  needs  no  farther  comment. 

But  W'C  are  also  to  regard  this  melancholy  event,  as  brought 
about  under  the  direct  appointment  of  an  All-wise  Providence ; 
and,  in  its  immediate  and  remote  effects,  w^e  may  discover  the  ends, 
which  it  was  designed  to  answer.  Among  these,  may  be  mention- 
ed the  following : 

It  showed,  in  a  striking  light,  the  instability  of  all  things,  that  de- 
pend on  man.  No  people  had  manifested  more  pride  in  their  min- 
ister, or  expressed  a  stronger  attachment  towards  him ;  yet,  for 
merely  performing  his  duty,  in  a  case  where  conscience,  and  the 
word  of  God,  plainly  allowed  him  no  alternative,  they  turned  against 
him,  and  resolved,  in  a  body,  to  drive  him  from  his  office. 

The  question  in  controversy,  between  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  peo- 
ple, was  one  of  vital  importance  to  the  purity  and  prosperity  of  the 
Christian  Church.  Wherever  the  lax  method  of  admission  has 
prevailed,  all  distinction  between  the  church  and  the  world  has 
soon  ceased,  and  both  have  been  blended  together.  This  question 
had  never  been  thoroughly  examined ;  and  it  needed  some  mind 
of  uncommon  powders,  to  exhibit  the  truth  with  regard  to  it,  in  a 
light  too  strong  to  be  ultimately  resisted.  The  controversy  at 
Northampton  compelled  Mr.  Edwards  to  examine  it,  with  the  ut- 
most care ;  and  the  result  of  his  labours  has  rendered  all  farther 
investigation  needless.  At  the  same  time,  his  character,  and  the 
peculiar  circumstances  in  which  he  was  placed,  gave  to  his  investi- 
gations a  degree  of  fairness  and  candour,  rarely  witnessed  in  works 
of  controversy. 

The  dismission  of  Mr.  Edwards  was  an  event  of  so  singular  an 
aspect,  as  to  rivet  the  attention  of  the  whole  American  Church, 
and,  of  course,  to  rivet  that  attention  to  the  question  in  controversy 
between  him  and  his  people.  It  was  necessary,  not  only  that  the 
subject  should  be  ably  treated,  by  «ome  powerful  advocate  of  truth, 
but  that  the  Treatise  should  be  extensively  read.  This  result  w  as 
thus  effectually  secured,  at  the  time.     And  the  fact,  that  Mr.  Ed- 


44G  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

wards,  a  man  whose  character  and  writings  have  been  so  deeply 
interesting  to  the  church  at  large,  was  on  this  ground,  and  in  such 
a  manner,  dismissed  from  his  people,  has  had  great  influence,  from 
that  time  to  this,  in  drawing  the  attention  of  christians  to  this  sub- 
ject, on  botli  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

This  however,  was  not  enough.  It  was  necessary,  also,  that  the 
genuine  consequences  of  this  mode  of  admission,  its  legitimate  ef- 
fects on  the  character  of  the  church  of  Christ,  should  be  fully  de- 
veloped ;  and  no  where,  probably,  could  this  have  been  done,  in  a 
manner  so  clear  and  striking,  and  with  such  convincing  power,  as 
in  the  church  of  Northampton.  That  church  was  preeminently 
"a  city  set  upon  a  hill."  Mr.  Stoddard,  during  an  uncommonly 
successful  ministry,  had  drawn  the  attention  of  American  christians 
towards  it,  for  fifty-seven  years.  He  had  also  been  advantageously 
known,  in  the  mother  country.  Mr.  Edwards  had  been  their 
minister,  for  twenty-three  years.  In  the  respect  paid  to  him,  as  a 
profound  theological  writer,  he  had  had  no  competitor  from  the 
tirst  establishment  of  the  colonies,  and,  even  then,  could  scarcely 
find  one  in  England  or  Scotland.  He  had  also  as  high  a  reputa- 
tion for  elevated  and  fervent  piety,  as  for  superiority  of  talents. 
During  the  preceding  eighty  years,  the  church  had  been  favoured 
with  more  numerous  and  more  powerful  revivals  of  religion,  than 
any  church  in  Christendom.  The  accounts  of  several  of  these 
revivals  had  circulated  extensively,  wherever  the  English  language 
was  spoken.  The  great  body  of  the  church  had  been  gathered, 
under  the  ministry  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Their  union,  as  minister 
and  people,  had  been  eminently  prosperous  and  happy  5  so  much 
so,  that,  had  the  voice  of  Prophecy  announced  such  an  event,  as 
about  to  take  place  somewhere  in  New-England,  probably  North- 
ampton would  have  been  last  selected,  as  the  place,  where  the 
prediction  could  have  been  fulfilled.  The  truth  of  God,  during 
the  preceding  eighty  years,  but  especially  during  the  preceding  twen- 
ty-seven, had  been  preached  with  great  power  and  faithfulness,  par- 
ticularly the  absolute  necessity  of  a  change  of  heart  to  salvation  ;  and 
the  church  was  united  in  receiving  the  doctrines  of  grace.  Botli 
Mr.  Stoddard,  and  Mr.  Edwards  also,  while  they  received  com- 
municants without  demanding  evidenjce  of  their  piety,  did  every 
thing  else,  v/hich  they  could  do,  to  promote  their  piety,  and  that 
of  the  church  at  large.  Never  probably  was  there  a  more  advan- 
tageous opportunity,  to  exhibit  the  genuine  influence  of  the  lax 
mode  of  admission,  on  the  piety  and  purity  of  a  church,  when,  too, 
the  most  powerful  causes  were  in  operation,  to  prevent  and  coun- 
teract that  influence,  than  in  the  church  of  Northampton.  When, 
therefore,  the  christians  of  America  beheld  the  members  of  that 
church  unifing  in  one  body  against  their  once  loved  and  venerated 
minister,  whose  labours  had  been  so  much  honoured  of  God  and 
man,  resolving  at  all  hazards  to  drive  him  from  them,  refusing  con- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  447 

tinually  to  hear  him  declare,  from  the  desk,  what  the  Holy  Spirit 
had  taught  respecting  the  suhjeet  in  controversy,  refusing  to  read  it 
when  he  had  declared  it  from  the  press,  and  even  refusing  him  an 
opportunity,  to  explain  his  views  concerning  it  in  private  friendly 
conversation ;  when  they  saw  them  circulating  "  gross,  scandalous 
and  injurious,  slanders,  against  Mr.  Edwards  and  liis  particular 
friends,"*  descending  to  the  arts  of  political  chicanery  to  eifect 
their  purpose, f  endeavouring  in  every  possible  way  to  deprive  him 
of  a  kno\\Ti  acknowledged  right  in  the  choice  of  the  Council,  and, 
after  his  dismission,  not  suffering  him  to  preach  to  them,  even  when 
they  could  procure  no  one  else  ;  they  had  the  highest  practical  evi- 
dence of  the  tendency  of  the  lax  mode  of  admission,  to  corrupt 
the  purity,  and  destroy  the  peace  and  prosperity,  of  the  church  of 
Christ.  So  ^^olent  was  the  shock  given  to  the  feelings  of  men,  by 
this  strange  and  surprising  occurrence,  that  it  produced  at  the  time, 
and  has  ever  since  produced,  a  powerful  reaction  against  that  mode 
of  admission,  as  well  as  against  every  species  of  lax  theology  in 
principle  and  practice.  Probably  no  one  event,  of  apparently  ma- 
lignant aspect,  ever  did  so  much,  towards  reforming  the  churches 
of  New-England. 

Many  difficult  subjects  of  theology,  also,  needed,  at  that  time,  to 
be  thoroughly  examined  and  illustrated ;  and  to  tliis  end,  some 
individual  of  expanded  \'iews  and  profound  penetration,  as  well 
as  of  correct  faith  and  elevated  piety,  was  to  be  found,  who 
could  give  tlie  strength  of  his  talents  and  his  time  to  these  investiga- 
tions. The  providence  of  God  had  selected  Mr.  Edwards  for  this  im- 
portant office ;  but  so  numerous  and  engrossing  were  the  duties  of  the 
ministry  at  Northampton,  that,  had  he  remained  there,  he  could  not 
have  fulfilled  it,  but  in  part.  To  give  him  abundant  opportunity 
and  advantage  for  the  work  assigned  him,  he  was  taken  from  that 
busy  field,  at  the  best  time  of  fife,  when  his  powers  had  gained  their 
greatest  energy,  when  the  field  of  thought  and  enquiry  had  been 
already  extensively  surveyed,  and  when  the  labours  of  the  pulpit 
w^ere  fully  provided  for  and  anticipated ;  and  was  transferred  to 
the  retirement  and  leisure  of  a  remote  frontier  village.  There  he 
prepared,  witliin  a  little  period,  four  of  the  ablest  and  most  valua- 
ble works,  which  the  Church  of  Christ  has  in  its  possession. 

It  is  wortliy  of  our  observation,  also,  that  the  consequences  of  Mr. 
Stoddard's  error  fell  with  all  their  weight  on  his  own  grandsoiiy 
and  his  numerous  family.  To  this  one  cause,  they  might  attribute 
the  heaviest  trial  and  calamity  of  life.  Tliis  is  very  often,  if  not 
usually,  the  course  of  God's  pro\idence. 

Previous  to  this  event,  Mr.  Edwards'  life  had  been  eminently 

*  Letter  of  Mr.  Hawley. 

t  Particularly  in  the  Precinct  meeting  deciding-^  previously,  on  the  measures 
to  be  adopted  by  the  Church. 


448  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

prosperous.  He  had  been  eligibly  settled,  and  had  numerous  and 
respectable  friends,  and  a  promising  family.  He  had  been  greatly 
assisted  of  God  in  the  discovery  of  truth,  and  had  acquired  high 
reputation,  and  very  extensive  influence.  It  appears,  however,  to 
be  the  lot  of  the  children  of  God,  to  suffer  afflictions;  and  from 
this  species  of  discipline,  even  those  of  distinguished  piety  are  not 
exempt.  This  affliction  was  most  severe.  Where  a  minister  and 
his  people  are  united  in  love,  no  earthly  connection,  if  we  except 
that  of  marriage  and  those  subsisting  between  the  nearest  relations 
by  blood,  is  so  near  and  intimate.  This  connection  had  subsisted 
long,  and  had  been  of  the  happiest  character.  Yet,  with  no  fault 
on  his  part  to  justify  alienation  on  theirs,  when  he  merely  obeyed 
the  dictates  of  his  conscience,  and  the  express  command  of  God  ; 
he  found  those,  w^ho  had  long  manifested  the  highest  esteem  and 
affection  for  him,  and  had  publicly  acknowledged  him  as  their  spi- 
ritual father,  uniting  against  him  in  one  body,  "  wickedly  slandering 
him,"*  rejecting  every  proposal  of  accommodation,  paying  no  regard 
to  his  feelings,  or  the  distress  brought  on  him  and  his  family,  and 
resorting  to  low  management,  and  to  gross  injustice,  to  drive  him 
from  the  midst  of  them.  All  this,  however,  was  the  appointment 
of  God;  and  he  received  the  chastisement  of  his  heavenly  Father, 
with  such  exemplary  submission,  that  it  would  seem  to  have  been 
sent  upon  him,  only  to  reveal  more  fully,  the  excellence  of  his 
character. 

On  the  w^hole,  it  is  evident,  that,  while  the  dismission  of  Mr. 
Edwards  was,  in  itself  considered,  an  event  greatly  to  be  regretted, 
it  was  at  the  same  time,  in  every  part  of  it,  most  honourable  to 
himself,  and  proved,  in  its  ultimate  consequences,  an  essential 
blessing  to  the  Church  of  God. 

*^iMr.  Havvley's  Letter. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Proposals  from  Stockbridge,  and  from  the  Commissioners. —  T'^isit 
to  Stockbridge. — Indian  Mission. — Housatonnucks. — Mohawks. 
— Dissensions  of  English  inhabitants. — Mr.  HoUis^  munificence. 
— Letter  to  Mr.  Hobby. — Reply  oj  Rev.  Solomon  Williams. — 
Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. — Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie. — First  Letter 
to  Mr.  Mollis. — Removal  to  Stockbridge. — Letter  to  Hon.  Mr. 
Hubbard. — Petition  to  General  Court. 

Early  In  December,  1750,  Mr.  Edwards  received  proposals, 
from  the  church  and  congregation  in  Stockbridge,  to  become  their 
Minister ;  and  about  the  same  time,  similar  proposals  from  the 
Commissioners,  at  Boston,  of  the  "  Society  in  London,  for 
Propagating  THE  Gospel  in  New  England,  and  the  parts  ad- 
jacent," to  become  the  Missionary  of  the  Housatonnucks,  or  River 
Indians,  a  tribe  at  that  time  located  in  Stockbridge  and  its  imme- 
diate vicinity.  Before  deciding  on  these  proposals,  he  went  to 
Stockbridge,  in  the  beginning  of  January,  1751,  and  continued  there 
during  the  remainder  of  the  winter,  and  the  early  part  of  the  spring, 
preacliing  both  to  the  English  inhabitants,  and,  by  the  aid  of  an  inter- 
preter, to  the  Indians.  Soon  after  his  return,  he  accepted  of  the 
invitation  both  of  the  Commissioners,  and  of  the  people  of  Stock- 
bridge. 

The  Indian  Mission  at  Stockbridge  commenced  in  1735  ;  when 
the  Rev.  John  Sergeant  was  ordained  their  Missionary.  He  con- 
tinued to  reside  there  until  his  death,  July  27th,  1749.  His  Indian 
congregation,  originally  about  fifty  in  number,  gradually  increased, 
by  accessions  from  the  neighbouring  settlements  on  the  Housaton- 
nuck  River,  to  the  number  of  two  hundred  and  fifty — the  actual 
number  in  1751.  Mr.  Sergeant  devoted  much  of  his  time  to  the 
study  of  their  language ;  (the  Moheekanneew ;*)  yet,  at  the  close 
of  his  life,  he  had  not  made  such  progress,  that  he  could  preach  in 
it,  or  even  pray  in  it,  except  by  a  form.  He  ultimately  regretted 
the  time  and  labour  thus  lost,  and  expressed  the  conviction,  that  it 
would  be  far  better  for  his  successor  not  to  learn  the  language,  but 
to  preach  by  an  interpreter,  and  toteach  the  children  of  the  Indians 
the  English  language,   by  the  aid  of  schoolmasters.     Very  little 


*The  common  language  of  all  the  Indians  in  New  England,  New-York,  New 
Jersey,  Pennsylvania  and  Delaware,  except   the  Iroquois. 

Vol.  I.  57 


^."JO  LIFE    OF    PRLSfOKNT    EDWARDS. 

success  appears  to  have  attended  his  labours,  either  among  the  In- 
dians or  the  English  congregation. 

A  school  was  established,  for  the  instruction  of  the  Indian  chil- 
dren, at  the  commencement  of  the  mission,  and  placed  under  the 
care  of  Timothy  VVoodbridge,  Esq.  one  of  the  original  settlers  of 
Stockbridge,  and  characterized  by  Mr.  Edwards,  as  "  a  man  of 
very  good  abilities,  of  a  manly,  honest  and  generous  disposition,  and 
as  having,  by  his  upright  conduct  and  agreeable  manners,  secured 
the  affections  and  confidence  of  the  Indians."  He  was  supported 
by  the  government  of  the  Province,  and  devoted  himself  faithfully  to 
the  business  of  instructing  the  Indian  children ;  yet  for  a  long  pe- 
riod, like  Mr.  Sergeant,  he  had  to  lament  the  that  so  little  success 
attended  his  labours.  This  was  owing  to  various  causes.  The  In- 
dians lived  in  a  village  by  themselves,  at  a  small  distance  from  the 
English  settlement.  Their  children  lived  at  home  with  their  parents, 
and  not  in  a  boarding  school ;  and  of  course  made  little  or  no  pro- 
gress in  the  English  language  ;  and  they  had  no  books  in  their  own. 
The  English  traders  sold  large  quantities  of  ardent  spirits  to  the 
Indians,  and  in  this  way  constantly  counteracted  the  efforts,  made  to 
do  them  good.  There  w^re  also  unfortunate  dissensions  among 
the  people  of  Stockbridge.  The  settlement  of  the  town  was 
begun,  with  a  direct  reference  to  the  intellectual  and  moral  im- 
provement of  the  Indians,  in  the  immediate  vicinity.  The  lands 
of  the  Indians,  comprizing  a  very  extensive  tract,  were  secured  to 
them  ;  and  important  privileges  were  granted  to  the  families  of  the 
original  settlers,  by  the  Provincial  Legislature,  with  reference  to  this 
very  object.  Unfortunately,  one  of  the  most  wealthy  of  those  set- 
tlers* appears  to  have  removed  to  Stockbridge,  with  the  design  of 
amassing  a  still  larger  fortune,  by  his  intercourse  with  the  Indian 
setdement.  With  this  view,  he  formed  a  large  trading  establish- 
ment in  the  neighbourhood.  From  his  wealth  and  his  locality, 
affairs  of  some  moment,  relating  to  the  Indians  at  Stockbridge,  were 
on  various  occasions,  entrusted  to  his  management ;  in  one  of  which 
Mr.  Woodbridge  regarded  him  as  doing  so  great  and  palpable  an 
injury,  both  to  the  ludians  and  the  province,  that,  taking  it  in  con- 
nection with  the  general  tenor  of  his  conduct,  he  felt  himself  bound 
to  prevent,-  as  far  as  lay  in  his  power,  all  intercourse  between  him 
and  the  Indian  settlement,  as  well  as  all  influence  which  he  might 
attempt  to  exert,  over  the  aflairs  of  the  Indians.  In  return,  he  en- 
deavoured, in  the  first  instance,  to  prevent  the  Indians  from  sending 
their  children  to  the  school,  and  to  render  those  parents  who  actu- 
ally sent  them,  dissatisfied  with  Mr.  Woodbridge  ;  and  at  length  to 
procure  the  dismission  of  that  gentleman  from  his  appointment. 
This  controversy  was  of  long  continuance,  and  affected  the  whole 

^  This  Individual  was  an  elder  branch  of  the family,  already  alluded 

to  in  the  account  of  Mr.  Edwards'  dismission. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    LDWARDS.  451 

settlement.  The  result  was,  that,  although  he  amassed  considera- 
ble wealth,  he  entirely  lost  the  confidence  of  the  Indians  ;  and  so 
completely  alienated  the  minds  of  the  English  inhabitants,  tliat  every 
family  in  the  place,  his  own  excepted,  sided  with  his  antagonist. 
This  controversy,  for  a  long  time,  had  a  most  inauspicious  effect  on 
the  school  of  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  on  the  mission  of  ^Ir.  Ser- 
geant. 

In  1739,  Mr.  Sergeant,  despairing  of  any  considerable  success 
under  the  existing  plan  of  instruction,  attempted  the  establishment 
of  an  Indian  boarding-school,  to  be  kept  at  the  expense  of  the 
English.  He  proposed,  that  the  children  should  live  in  the  fami- 
ly of  their  instructor,  and  learn  the  English  language,  and  that  their 
time  should  be  divided  between  work  and  study,  under  different 
masters.  For  some  time,  he  made  but  little  progress  in  raising 
funds  for  this  purpose,  but  at  length  was  aided  in  his  design,  by  the 
benevolence  of  the  Rev.  Isaac  Mollis,  a  clergyman  near  London, 
who  most  generously  offered  to  defray  the  expense  of  the  board, 
clothing  and  instruction,  of  twelve  Indian  cliildren.^'  At  this  time, 
no  boarding  house  was  built ;  and,  for  a  long  period,  TNlr.  Sergeant 
found  it  impossible,  to  procure  a  person,  duly  qualified,  to  take 
charge  of  the  school.  To  begin  the  work,  however,  Mr.  Sergeant 
hu:ed  as  a  temporary  teacher,  until  a  competent  one  could  be  pro- 
cured, a  Capt.  Martin  Kellogg,  an  illiterate  man,  originally  a 
farmer,  and  subsequently  a  soldier,  about  sixty  years  of  age, 
very  lame  withal,  and  wholly  unaccustomed  to  the  business  of  in- 
struction. His  sister,  Mrs.  Ashley,  the  v.ife  of  a  Capt.  Ashley  of 
Suffield,  w^ho  had  been  taken  prisoner,  when  a  child,  by  the  Iro- 
quois, and  perfectly  understood  their  language,  was  the  interpreter 
of  the  English  at  Stockbridge ;  and  her  brother  having  come  to  re- 
side there,  in  consequence  of  having  no  regular  business,  w-as  em- 
ployed temporarily  by  Mr.  Sergeant,  for  the  want  of  a  better  in- 
structor, because  he  was  on  the  spot.  A  school  had  just  been 
commenced  under  his  auspices,  (not  however  as  a  boarding  school, 
as  no  house  could  be  procured  for  the  purpose,)  when  the  French 
war  of  1744  broke  it  up  ;  and  Capt.  Kellogg,  that  he  might  con- 


*  In  the  spring  of  1732,  Mr.  Holas  remitted  £100,  stg.  to  the  Rev.  Dr.  Col- 
man,  for  the  histruction  of  Indian  children.  In  1754,  having  seen  tlie  printed 
account  of  the  Ordination  of  Messrs.  Parker^  Hiimdule  and  Hec^mtje,  and  their 
mission  to  the  Indian  tribes  on  tire  Eastern  and  Wtsltrn  borders  of  New  Eng- 
land ;  he  olFered  Dr.  C.  £20,  slg. per  annum^forersr,  for  the  support  of  a  fourth 
missionary  ;  but  Dr.  C.  dissuaded  him  from  Fuch  an  appropriation.  In  Nov. 
1736,  Dr.  C.  received  from  Mr.  H.  £56,stg.  for  the  education  of  twelve  Indian 
boys  at  Housalonnuck,  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Sergeant ;  in  Aug.  1738,  £343, 
currency  ;  and  in  May,  1740,  £447,  9s.  currency,  for  the  same  object.  After 
this  he  appropriated,  at  first,  £50,  stg.  annually^  for  the  support  and  instruction 
of  twelve  Indian  boys,  and  subsequently  £120,  stg.  annually,  for  the  support 
and  Instruction  of  twenty-four  Indian  boys,  at  the  same  place.— 6ee  a  pamph- 
Iti.  published  by  Dr.  Colman  in  1743. 


452  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

tinue  to  receive  the  money  of  Mr.  Hollis,  carried  several  of  the  In- 
dian boys  to  Newington  in  Connecticut,  where  he  had  previously 
resided. 

After  the  close  of  the  war,  in  1748,  Mr.  Sergeant  began  the 
erection  of  a  house  for  a  boarding  school.  He  also  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  nation  of  the  Mohawks,  then  residing  on  the  Mohawk  River, 
about  forty  miles  west  of  Albany,  inviting  them  to  bring  their  chil- 
dren to  Stockbridge,  for  instruction.  But  he  did  not  live  to  see 
either  of  these  designs  accomplished.  At  his  death,  in  1749,  seve- 
ral Indian  boys  were  left  in  the  hands  of  Capt.  Kellogg,  who,  in  the 
autumn  of  1750,  not  having  heard  from  Mr.  Hollis  for  a  considera- 
ble period,  and  supposing  him  to  be  dead,  dismissed  them  for  a 
time,  and  gave  up  his  attempt  to  form  a  school. 

In  consequence  of  the  letter  of  Mr.  Sergeant  to  the  Mohawk  tribe, 
which  had  been  accompanied  by  a  very  kind  invitation  from  the 
Housatonnuck  Indians,  offering  them  a  portion  of  their  lands,  for  a 
place  of  settlement,  if  they  would  come  and  reside  in  Stockbridge, 
about  twenty  of  them,  old  and  young,  came  to  that  place,  in  1750, 
a  short  time  before  the  removal  of  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  family. 
The  Provincial  Legislature,  learning  this  fact,  made  provision  for 
the  support  and  maintenance  of  the  children,  and  Capt.  Kellogg, 
unfortunately,  w  as  employed  as  the  instructor.  He  never  establish- 
ed a  regular  school,  however,  but  taught  die  boys  occasionally,  and 
incidentally,  and  employed  them  chiefly  in  cultivating  his  own  lands. 
He  was  then  65  years  of  age. 

Near  the  close  of  Mr.  Sergeant's  Hfe,  the  school  for  the  Housa- 
tonnuck children,  under  Mr.  Woodbridge,  became  much  more 
flourishing.  His  salary  was  increased,  the  number  of  his  pupils 
augmented,  and  himself  left  to  act  with  less  restraint.  The  Indians 
also  became  less  inclined  to  intemperance.     The  influence  of  the 

family  was  likewise  extinct:  the  English  inhabitants  having,  to  a 

man,  taken  the  opposite  side  in  the  controversy ;  and  the  Indians 
regarding  Mr.  Woodbridge  as  their  best  friend,  and  his  opponent  as 
their  worst  enemy.  Mr.  Woodbridge  was  also,  at  this  period,  able 
to  avail  himself  of  the  assistance  of  a  young  Housatonnuck,  educa- 
ted by  himself,  of  the  name  of  John  JVomvanonjjequunnonnt,  a 
man  of  uncommon  talents  and  attainments,  as  well  as  of  sincere 
piety ;  who  appears  to  have  been  raised  up  by  Providence,  that  he 
might  become  the  interpreter  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  preaching  to  his 
countrymen. 

Mr.  Hollis,  having  heard  of  the  arrival  of  the  IMohawks  at  Stock- 
bridge,  and  supposing  that  a  regular  boarding  school  was  establish- 
ed under  the  care  of  Capt.  Kellogg,  wrote  to  him  to  increase  the 
number  of  the  children  to  twenty-four,  who  were  to  be  maintained 
and  instructed  at  his  expense.  During  the  winter  of  1750-51,  the 
number  of  Mohawks,  who  came  to  reside  at  Stockbridge,  was  in- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  45b 

creased  to  about  ninety  ;  among  whom  were  Hendrick,  and  JVicho- 
las,  and  several  others  of  their  chiefs. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  at  Stockbridge,  and  such  the  state 
of  the  Indian  IMission,  and  of  the  Indian  schools,  when  Mr.  Ed- 
wards w^as  invited  to  remove  to  that  place.     The family  at 

first  exerted  their  whole  influence,  to  prevent  his  receiving  an  invi- 
tation from  the  people  of  Stockbridge  :  but,  finding  that  the  church 
and  parish,  (themselves  excepted,)  were  unanimous  in  giving  the 
imitation,  and  very  anxious  that  he  should  accept  it,  that  there 
was  no  chance  of  producing  a  change  in  the  minds  of  the  Commis- 
sioners in  Boston,  and  that  continued  opposition  must  terminate  in 
their  own  utter  discomfiture  ;  they  changed  their  course,  and  pro- 
fessed to  be  highly  gratified  that  he  was  coming  among  them. 

After  his  return  to  Northampton,  in  the  spring  of  1751,  Mr 
Edw^ards,  before  coming  to  a  final  decision,  paid  a  visit  to  his  Ex 
cellency  Sir  William  Pepperell,  at  Kittery,  to  learn  the  actual  views 
of  the  government,  with  regard  to  the  Indian  establishment  at 
Stockbridge ;  and  having  received  satisfactory  assurances  on  this 
subject,  he  soon  after  announced  to  the  people  of  Stockbridge,  and 
to  the  Commissioners  in  Boston,  his  acceptance  of  their  respective 
invitations.  In  the  third  week  of  June,  he  went  again  to  Stock- 
bridge,  and  remained  there  during  the  greater  part  of  the  ensuing 
month.  Soon  after  his  arrival,  he  addressed  the  following  let- 
ter to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hobby,  one  of  the  minority  in  the  Council, 
w^hich  had  decided  on  his  dismission,  in  consequence  of  an  occur- 
rence, W'hich  it  is  proper  briefly  to  detail.  Immediately  after  the 
Protest  of  the  ]\Iinority,  against  the  Result  of  Council,  was  publish- 
ed, four  of  the  clergymen  in  the  majority  prepared  a  pamphlet  at- 
tacking the  Protest,  entitled,  "  An  account  of  the  conduct  of  the 
Council  which  dismissed  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards  from  the  pastoral 
care  of  tlie  first  church  at  Northampton."  This  drew,  from  Mr. 
Hobby,  "  A  Vindication  of  the  Protest  against  the  Result  of  the 
Northampton  Council ;"  which  called  forth,  from  the  same  gentle- 
men, "  A  Letter  to  the  Rev.  Mv.  Hobby,  in  answer  to  his  Vindi- 
cation," etc.  This  Letter  contained  so  gross  and  palpable  a  mis- 
statement, relative  to  the  actual  point  in  controversy  between  Mr. 
Edwards  and  his  people,  and  to  the  nature  of  the  profession,  which 
he  insisted  on  from  those,  who  w^ere  to  be  received  to  the  commun- 
ion of  the  church ;  that  Mr.  Edwards  felt  himself  called  upon  to 
contradict  it  from  the  press,  wdiich  he  did  in  the  subsequent  Letter. 

"To  the  Rev.  William  Hobby. 

"  Stockbridge,  June,  1751. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  think  myself  obliged,  in  the  most  public  manner  I  am  able,  to 
correct  a  great  and  very  injurious  misrepresentation,  made  publicly 


454  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

concerning  nie,  in  a  late  pamphlet,  entitled,  "A  Letter  to  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Hobby,  in  answer  to  his  Vindication  of  the  Protest  against  the 
Result  of  an  Ecclesiastical  Council  met  at  Northampton,  etc.  by 
the  Rev.  Messrs.  Robert  Breck,  Joseph  Ashley,  Timothy  Wood- 
bridge  and  Chester  Williams." 

"  These  gentlemen,  who  were  members  of  the  Council,  which 
dissolved  the  relation  between  me  and  the  church  at  Northampton, 
in  professing  to  give  an  account,  in  this  pamphlet,  of  what  declara- 
tions both  the  church  and  I  made,  before  that  Council,  of  our  prin- 
ciples, say,  "  that  Mr.  Edwards  declared,  that  he  could  not  in  con- 
science be  active,  in  admitting  any  into  the  church,  unless  they  first 
made  a  profession.  That  they  were  indeed  sanctified  :" 
Whereas  I  declared  the  reverse  of  this,  openly,  and  publicly,  and 
very  particularly,  before  that  Council,  in  the  meeting-house,  a  great 
multitude  being  present ;  for  this  reason,  because,  I  had  heard  that 
such  reports  had  been  spread  abroad  of  my  opinion,  I  carefully 
commented  on  them,  and  expressly  denied  and  contradicted  them, 
and  told  the  Council  that  there  was  no  truth  in  such  reports.  I  dis- 
tinctly informed  them,  also,  that  I  did  not  insist  that. persons  should 
say  that  they  were  converted,  or  were  christians  ;  that  this  was  not 
w^hat  1  had  intended  by  a  person  making  a  profession  of  godhness ; 
and  that  I  should  not  think  it  became  persons  to  come,  and  make 
such  a  profession  as  this.  But  I  told  them  that  what  I  insisted  on, 
as  a  proper  profession  of  godliness  on  the  part  of  any  person,  was 
this  : — either  his  professing  the  great  things  in  which  godliness  con- 
sists; or  that,  in  his  own  full  belief,  he  saw  such  things  in  his  heart, 
which,  though  he  might  think  them  not  to  be  godliness,  yet  were 
truly  such  things,  as  the  Scriptures  represent  as  the  essentials  of 
true  piety. — I  added  that,  in  the  latter  case,  if  he  did  this  seriously 
and  understandingly,  I  should  think  he  ought  to  be  accepted  ; 
though,  at  the  same  time,  he  should  very  much  doubt  of  his  being 
converted ;  yea,  if  he  should,  through  melancholy  or  any  tempta- 
tion, determine  against  himself,  and  say  he  did  not  think  that  he 
was  converted  ;  if  his  own  scruples  did  not  hinder  him,  I  should 
think  he  ought  to  be  accepted,  and  should  be  ready  to  admit  him. 

[Mr.  Edwards  here  subjoined  the  testimonies  of  several  respec- 
table witnesses  to  the  point  in  question.] 

"  But,  because  I  wished  to  take  the  utmost  possible  care,  that 
what  I  said  might  be  w^ell  observed  and  understood  by  the  Council, 
and  this  false  report  sufficiently  corrected,  I  sent  the  same  tiling  in 
to  the  Council  in  wTiting.  I  also  sent  in  an  extract  from  a  letter,  which 
1  had  previously  WTitten  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Clark  of  Salem  Village,  in 
the  following  words,  \iz. 

"  It  does  not  belong  to  the  controversy  betw^een  me  and  my  peo- 
ple, how  particular,  or  large,  the  profession  should  be,  that  is  re- 
quired.    I  should  not  choose  to  be  confined  to  exact  limits,  as  to 


LrFE    OF    PHF.SinF.NT    FDWAKDS.  455 

that  affair.  But  rather  than  contend,  I  should  content  myself  with 
a  few  words,  briefly  expressing  the  cardinal  virtues,  or  acts,  implied 
in  a  hearty  compliance  with  the  covenant  of  grace  ;  the  profession 
being  made,  (as  should  appear  by  enquiry  into  the  person's  doctrinal 
knowledge,)  understandingly ;  if  there  were  an  external  conversa- 
tion agreeable  thereto.  Yea,  I  should  think,  that  such  a  person, 
solemnly  making  such  a  profession,  had  a  right  to  be  received,  as 
the  object  of  a  public  charity,  however  he  himself  might  scruple  his 
own  conversion,  on  account  of  his  not  remembering  the  time, 
or  not  knowing  the  method,  of  his  conversion,  or  finding  so  much  re- 
maining sin,  etc.  And,  (if  his  own  scruples  did  not  hinder,)  I 
should  think  a  minister,  or  a  church,  had  no  right  to  debar  such  a 
professor,  though  he  should  say  he  did  not  think  himself  converted. 
For  I  call  that  a  profession  of  godhness,  ^\iiich  is  a  profession  of  the 
great  things  wherein  godliness  consists,  and  not  a  profession  by  an 
individual,  of  his  own  opinion  of  his  good  estate. 
''Northampton,  May  7,  1750." 

"  This  writing  was  handed  round,  and  particularly  taken  notice 
of  in  the  Council,  and  read  by  the  members.  Such  abundant 
care  did  I  take,  that  the  Council  might  fully  understand,  that  I  by  no 
means  insisted,  that  a  man  should  profess  that  he  was  sanctified  or 
converted  ;  and  that  T  was  so  far  from  insisting  on  it,  that  I  disliked 
such  a  kind  of  profession,  and  such  terms  of  commmiion.  Yet 
now  some  of  the  gendemen,  who  were  members  of  that  Council, 
declare  to  the  world  from  the  press,  that  I  declared  this  very  thing 
to  the  Council,  that  /  could  not  in  conscience  admit  persons,  unless 
they  first  made  a  profession  that  they  were  indeed  sanctified.  It 
may  be  said  that,  although  I  produce  testimonies  to  the  contrary, 
yet  there  are  four  that  write  in  this  declaration,  vrhich  is  sufficient 
to  balance  all  my  testimonies.  To  this  I  reply,  that  the  extract 
from  my  letter  to  Mr.  Clark  of  Salem  Village,  which  was  laid  in 
before  this  Council,  wherein  the  contrary  was  expressly  declared, 
was  in  writing ;  and  they  cannot,  and  do  not  deny,  that  this  ex- 
tract, in  these  very  words,  w^as  laid  before  them.  And  if  they 
should  deny  that  I  ever  wrote  such  a  letter,  the  original  is  in  iJr. 
Clark's  hands  ;  which  will  speak  for  itself,  if  they  deny  that  I  have 
truly  represented  it. 

"That  they  should  make  such  a  declaration,  as  they  have  done, 
is  the  more  remarkable,  because  this  my  extract  from  that  letter 
was  printed,  long  before,  in  the  Preface  to  my  Farew^ell  Sermon, 
as  a  designed  refutation  of  such  kinds  of  reports  of  my  opinion,  and 
was  referred  to,  to  the  same  purpose,  in  the  printed  Result  of  the 
Council  wdiich  sat  at  Northampton,  which  these  gendemen  (p.  18) 
confess  that  they  had  seen.  And  these  things  from  the  press  w^ere 
very  much  known,  and  taken  notice  of,  in  that  part  of  the  country 
where  these  ministers  live,  long  before.     So  that,  if  it  were  possi- 


45(>  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ble  for  me  to  defend  myself  from  such  injurious  representations,  and 
reports,  and  assertions  on  the  part  of  those  gentlemen,  as  are  here 
made,  one  would  think  it  was  most  effectually  done.  Yet,  notwith- 
standing all  this,  they  now  boldly  assert  to  the  world,  that  I  declar- 
ed that,  which,  instead  of  declaring,  I,  at  the  time,  expressly,  care- 
fully and  publicly  denied,  and  also  declared  the  very  reverse  of  it, 
by  word  of  mouth,  in  their  hearing,  and  in  WTiting  addressed  to 
themselves,  and  afterwards  from  the  press,  before  the  world.  If  I 
had  perfectly  held  my  peace,  and  made  no  declaration  of  any  kind 
on  the  subject,  and  they  had  then  published  to  the  world  that  I  de- 
clared this,  which  they  have  asserted,  it  would  indeed  have  been 
strange ;  but  still,  it  would  have  been  far  less  surprising  and  injuri- 
ous than  now,  since  I  have,  with  so  much  pains,  declared  the  con- 
trary, and  taken  so  much  care,  that  they  should  have  full  notice  of 
my  denying  and  abhorring  the  thing,  which  they  say  I  asserted  and 
insisted  on. 

"I  am  your  friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

In  the  course  of  the  spring,  the  Reply  of  the  Rev.  Solomon  Wil- 
liams, of  Lebanon,  Connecticut,  to  the  Treatise  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
on  the  Qualifications  for  Communion,  issued  from  the  press. ^  The 
task  of  preparing  this  work  was  not,  originally,  of  the  author's  own 
seeking.  As  has  been  already  mentioned,  his  half-brother,  at  the 
request  of  some  of  the  opposers  of  ]Mr.  Edwards  in  Northampton, 
began,  in  1749,  to  collect  materials  for  this  reply.  In  this  work, 
he  had  proceeded  some  distance,  we  know  not  how  far,  when  the 
necessity  of  his  embarking  for  England  compelled  him  to  relin- 
quish it;  and  he  placed  his  papers  in  the  hands  of  his  brother,  in 
whose  name  the  work  appeared.  What  its  character  would  have 
been,  had  he  completed  it  himself,  cannot  now  be  known ;  but,  af- 
ter reading  it,  as  it  actually  came  forth  from  the  hands  of  the  two 
brothers,  the  friends  of  the  lax  mode  of  admission,  conscious  as  they 
were  of  danger  to  their  cause,  from  the  Enquiry  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
must  have  felt,  if  they  did  not  say,  "  JVon  tali  auxilio,  nee  defensori- 
bus  istis,  tempus  eget.^^  That  the  author,  though  he  styled  his 
work  an  Answer  to  the  Treatise  of  Mr.  Edwards,  perceived  it  to 
be  no  easy  task  to  furnish  a  real  answer  to  his  arguments,  is  obvious 
from  the  fact,  that  he  continually  misrepresents  its  design,  and  the 
nature  of  the  question  in  controversy.     He  often  asserts  it  to  be  the 


*  The  title  of  this  pamphlet  is,  "  The  True  State  of  the  Question  concerning 
the  Qualifications  necessary  to  lawful  Communion  in  the  Christian  Sacra- 
ments ;  being  an  Answer  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Jonathan  Edwards'  Book,  entitled, 
An  Humble  Enquiry  into  the  Rules  of  the  Word  of  God^  concerning  the  Qua/iji- 
calions  requisite  to  a  complete  standing,  and  full  Communion,  in  the  Visible 
Christian  Church  ;  by  Solomon  Williams,  A.  M."     Boston,  1751. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4o7 

professed  and  declared  design  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  writing  die 
"  Humble  Enquiry,"  to  oppose  Mr.  Stoddard,  when  Mr.  Edwards 
declared,  in  the  Preface,  that,  in  consequence  of  the  necessity  he 
was  laid  under,  of  opposing  what  his  grandfather  had  strenuously 
maintained,  he  had  engaged  in  preparing  it,  with  the  greatest  reluc- 
tance that  he  ever  undertook  any  public  service  in  his  life.  The 
main  question,  which  Mr.  Edwards  had  discussed  in  the  "  Humble 
Enquiry,"  w^as,  M'Tiether  candidates  for  admission  to  the  Church, 
ought  to  make  a  Credible  Profession  of  Piety?  This  was  the  ques- 
tion in  debate,  between  him  and  his  people.  They  insisted,  with 
Mr.  Stoddard,  that  the  Lord's  Supper  was  a  converting  ordinance, 
that  unconverted  men,  as  such,  had  a  right  to  partake  of  it,  and  of 
course,  that  a  credible  profession  of  piety  w^as  not  necessary  to 
church-membership.  On  this  point,  Mr.  Edwards  differed  from 
them ;  and  he  wrote  the  "  Himible  Enquiry,"  to  convince  tliem, 
riiat  their  opinion  was  erroneous.  As  to  the  evidence,  necessary  to 
render  a  profession  credible,  he  expressly  states  it  to  be  "  some  out- 
ward manifestation,  that  ordinarily  renders  the  thing  probable ;" 
and  again,  he  says,  "  Not  a  certainty,  but  a  profession  and  visibility 
of  these  things,  must  be  the  rule  of  the  church's  proceeding." — 
Mr.  Williams,  on  the  conti-ary,  continually  represents  the  main 
question  in  controversy  to  be.  What  Degree  of  evidence,  the  church 
must  have,  of  the  piety  of  those,  she  receives  as  members?  He  says, 
Mr.  Edwards  demands  the  highest  evidence,  which  a  man  can  give, 
of  sincerity  ;  and  that  he  himself  insists  only  on  the  lowest  evidence, 
the  nature  of  the  thing  will  admit;  as  though  both  regarded  actual 
piety,  as  necessary  to  such  a  profession.  He  then  represents  Mr. 
Edwards,  as  requiring  so  high  a  degree  of  evidence  of  the  candi- 
date's piety,  as  shall  render  the  church  certain  of  it,  and  enable 
them  to  come  to  an  absolute  and  peremptory  determination,  that  he 
is  a  truly  godly  person  ;  and  that  his  principles  suppose  men  to  be 
Searchers  of  each  others'  hearts. 

All  this  is  in  direct  contrariety  to  the  often  repeated  statements 
of  the  principles,  for  which  Mr.  Edwards  contended  ;  and,  as  every 
intelligent  reader  of  the  "  Enquiry"  and  "  Answer"  must  ultimately 
be  aware  of  this,  and  must  perceive  that  Mr.  Williams  palpably  avoid- 
ed the  main  point  in  controversy,  and  discussed  no  point,  but  a  sub- 
ordinate one,  on  w^iich  he  could  make  out  no  difference  between 
himself  and  Mr.  Edwards,  except  by  mis-stating  the  plainly  declared 
sentiments  of  the  latter;  it  is  difficult  to  explain,  why  he  should 
have  pursued  such  a  course,  when  he  had  so  acute  an  antagonist  to 
expose  the  obliquity  of  the  proceeding,  except  on  the  supposition, 
that,  having  publicly  announced  his  design  of  answering  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, he  found  on  trial,  that  he  was  not  equal  to  the  task,  and  pur- 
sued this  course,  to  deceive  the  spectators  of  the  contest.  No  one, 
who  has  courage  to  meet  a  real  antas^onist,  will  occupy  himself 

Vol.  1.  ,        58        " 


458  LIFJi    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

with  H  man  of  straw.     What  notice  Mr.  Edw^ards  took  of  this  Re- 
ply, will  be  stated  on  a  subsequent  page. 

While  at  Stockb ridge,  he  addressed  the  following  letter  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Erskine. 

"  Stockbridge,  June  28,  1751. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  brother, 

^^  1  have  lately  received  the  "  Treatise  on  the  Restoration  of  the 
Jews,"  and  a  pamphlet  endtled  "  A  Serious  Address  to  the  Church 
of  Scotland,"  and  a  "  Sermon  on  the  Qualifications  of  the  Teach- 
ers of  Christianity,"  preached  by  you  before  the  Sjniod,  with  Glass's 
Notes  on  Scripture  Texts,  No.  5.  These  pamphlets  were  inclos- 
ed in  a  WTapper,  superscribed  by  your  hand.  There  was  also  in  the 
packet,  a  brief  advertisement  concerning  one  of  the  pamphlets, 
WTitten  in  your  hand,  though  without  any  date  or  name,  or  any  let- 
ter in  the  packet.  But  yet,  I  conclude  these  pamphlets  were  sent 
by  you,  and  accordingly  I  now  thank  you  for  them.  Your  dis- 
course on  the  Qualifications  of  Teachers  of  Christianity,  is  a  very 
acceptable  present.  Glass's  Notes  on  Scripture  Texts  contain  some 
things  that  are  very  curious,  and  discover  close  study,  and  a  criti- 
cal genius.  The  "  Treatise  on  the  Restoration  of  the  Jews,"  if 
WTitten  by  a  christian  divine,  is  a  strange  and  unaccountable  thing ; 
by  reason  of  there  being  nothing  at  all  said,  or  hinted,  about  the 
Jews'  conversion  to  the  Christian  faith,  or  so  much  as  one  mention 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  his  supporting  that  the  prophecies  of  Ezekiel 
are  to  be  literally  fulfilled,  in  the  building  of  such  a  temple  and  city  as 
is  there  described,  and  the  springing  of  such  a  river  from  the 
threshold  of  the  temple,  and  its  running  into  the  east  sea,  and  the  Jews 
offering  sacrifices,  and  observing  other  rites  spoken  of  in  Ezekiel ; 
and  that  the  IMessiah  is  yet  to  come,  and  to  reign  in  Jerusalem  as 
a  temporal  prince,  etc.  And  I  am  wholly  at  a  loss,  as  to  the  au- 
thor's.real  design,  whether  it  was,  to  promote  Judaism,  or  Deism, 
or  only  to  amuse  his  readers. 

"Since  I  received  these  pamphlets,!  have  received  letters  from  all 
my  other  correspondents  in  Scotland ;  but  none  from  you.  Mr. 
]M'Laurin  speaks  of  your  wTiting,  or  designing  to  WTite  ;  but  sug- 
gests that  possibly  your  letter  would  not  arrive  so  soon  as  the  rest ; 
so  that  I  hope  I  shall  yet,  ere  long,  receive  a  letter  from  you.  The 
letters,  I  have  received  from  my  other  correspondents,  make  men- 
tion of  a  great  revival  of  religion  in  Guelderland,  and  My,  M'Lau- 
rin  has  sent  me  printed  accounts  of  it,  published,  as  I  understand, 
by  Mr.  Gillies,  his  son-in-law,  being  extracts  of  letters  from  Hol- 
land. I  had  some  notice  of  it  before,  in  a  letter  from  ]\lr.  Daven- 
port, w^ho,  for  the  most  part,  resides  in  New-Jersey.  The  account 
he  wrote,  was  brought  over  from  Holland,by  a  young  Dutch  minister, 
whose  name  is  John  Frielinghausen,  born  in  New-Jersey,  second 
son  to  an  eminent  Dutch  minister  there.     His  elder  brother  is  set- 


LIVE     OF     PRESIDENT    EDWARlJS.  "459 

tied  at  Albany,  and  by  all  accounts,  is  an  able  and  faithful  minister. 
This  second  son  has  been  in  Holland  two  years,  I  suppose  to  per- 
fect his  education  in  one  of  their  Universities,  where  his  brother  at 
Albany  had  his  education.  He  came  over  hito  America  the  last 
summer,  having  just  been  married  and  ordained  in  Koiiand,  in  or- 
der to  take  the  pastoral  charge  of  some  of  the  places,  that  had  been 
under  his  father's  care. 

"The  accounts,  Mr.  Davenport  gives  from  him,  are  not  so  particu- 
lar, as  those  that  are  published  by  Mr.  Gillies,  But  there  is  one 
material  and  important  circumstance,  which  he  mentions,  not  taken 
notice  of  in  the  accounts  from  Scotland,  viz.  that  the  Stadtholder 
was  much  pleased  with  the  work. 

"  At  the  same  time,  that  we  rejoice  in  that  glorious  work,  and 
praise  God  for  it,  it  concerns  us  carefully  to  pray,  that  God's  min- 
isters and  people  there  may  be  directed  in  such  a  state  of  things, 
wherein  wisdom  and  great  discretion  are  so  exceedingly  needed, 
and  great  care  and  skill,  to  distinguish  between  true  and  false  reli- 
gion ;  between  those  inward  experiences,  which  are  from  the  saving 
influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  those  that  are  from  Satan,  trans- 
forming himself  into  an  angel  of  light.  Without  this,  it  may  be  ex- 
pected, that  the  great  deceiver  will  gradually  insinuate  himself; 
acting  under  disguise,  he  will  pretend  to  be  a  zealous  assistant  in 
building  the  temple,  yea,  the  chief  architect,  when  his  real  design 
will  be,  to  bring  all  to  the  ground,  and  to  build  Babel,  instead  of 
the  temple  of  God,  finally  to  the  great  reproach  and  grief  of  aJl 
true  friends  of  religion,  and  the  haughty  triumph  of  its  adversaries. 
If  I  may  be  allowed  my  conjecture  in  this  affair,  there  lies  the  great- 
est dan2;er  of  the  people  in  Guelderland,  who  are  concerned  in  this 
work.  I  wish  they  had  all  the  benefit  of  the  late  experience  of 
this  part  of  the  Church  of  God,  here  in  America.  Mr.  M'Laurin 
informs  me,  dear  Sir,  that  you  have  a  correspondence  in  the  Ne- 
therlands ;  and,  as  you  know  something  of  the  calamities  we  have 
suffered  from  this  quarter,  I  wish  you  would  give  them  some  kind 
admonitions.  They  will  need  all  the  warnings  that  can  be  given 
them.  For  the  temptation  to  religious  people,  in  such  a  state  of 
things,  to  countenance  the  glaring,  shining  counterparts  of  religion, 
without  distinguishing  them  from  the  reality,  what  is  true  and  gen- 
uine, is  so  strong,  that  they  are  very  hardly  indeed  restrained  from 
it.  They  will  at  last  find  the  consequences  not  to  be  good,  of  an 
abundant  declaring  and  proclaiming  their  experience,  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  before  all  companies,  if  they  get  into  that  way,  as  they 
will  be  very  likely  to  do,  without  special  caution  in  their  guides. 
I  am  not  so  much  concerned  about  any  danger,  the  interest  of  the 
revival  of  religion  in  Guelderland  may  be  in,  IVom  violent  open  oppo- 
sition, as  from  the  secret,  subtle,  undiscerned  guile  of  the  Old  Ser- 
pent. I  perceive,  pious  ministers  in  the  Netherlands  are  concern- 
ed to  obtain  attestations  to  the  good  abiding  effect  of  the  awakenings 


460  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

in  Scotland  and  America.  I  think  it  is  fit  tbey  should  know  the 
very  truth  of  the  case,  and  that  things  should  be  represented,  nei- 
ther better  nor  worse  than  they  are.  If  they  should  be  represent- 
ed worse,  that  would  give  encouragement  to  unreasonable  oppo- 
sers ;  if  better,  that  might  prevent  a  most  necessary  caution,  of  the 
true  friends  of  the  awakening.  There  are,  undoubtedly,  very  ma- 
ny instances  in  New-England,  in  the  whole,  of  the  perseverance  of 
such,  as  were  thought  to  have  received  the  saving  benefits  of  the 
late  revival  of  religion  ;  and  of  their  continuing  to  walk  in  new^ness 
of  life,  and  as  becomes  saints ;  instances,  which  are  incontestible, 
and  which,  men  must  be  most  obstinately  blind  not  to  see ;  but  I 
believe  the  proportion  here  is  not  so  great  as  in  ScoUand.  1  can- 
not say,  that  the  greater  part  of  supposed  converts,  give  reason,  by 
their  conversation,  to  suppose  that  they  are  true  converts.  The 
pro})ortion  may,  perhaps,  be  more  truly  represented,  by  the  propor- 
tion of  the  blossoms  on  a  tree,  which  abide  and  come  to  mature 
fruit,  to  the   whole  number   of  blossoms  in  the  spring. 

"  In  the  forementioned  letter,  which  1  lately  received  from  Mr. 
Davenport,  he  mentions  some  degrees  of  awakening,  in  some  pla- 
ces of  New-Jersey.  The  following  are  extracts  from  his  letter. 
"  I  returned  last  month  from  Cape  May,  where  I  had  been  labour- 
ing some  time,  with  little  or  no  success,  as  to  the  unregenerate ; 
except  somewhat  encouraging,  the  last  day  of  my  preaching  among 
them.  Yet,  blessed  be  God,  I  hear  of  the  success  of  several  min- 
isters in  the  Jerseys,  and  the  re\ival  of  religion  in  some  places ; 
though  it  is  very  dull  times  in  most.  Mr.  Reed,  of  Boundbrook,  has, 
I  hear,  some  encouragement,  by  reason  of  a  few  in  that  place 
being  under  conviction.  ]\Ir.  Kennedy,  who  is  likely  to  settle  at 
Baskingridge,  I  hear,  has  still  more  encouragement;  and  Mr. 
John  Frielinghausen  more  yet,  among  the  Dutch.  He  is  the  se- 
cond son  of  the  Mr.  Frielinghausen,  mentioned  in  your  narrative, 
who  died  a  few  years  ago.  This  second  son  came  over  from  Hol- 
land, where  he  had  been  two  years,  and  w  as  ordained  a  litde  before 
he  came  over,  the  last  summer.  Pious  ministers  among  the  Dutch, 
this  way,  I  tliink  increase  faster  of  late,  than  among  other  people. 
I  was  at  the  house  of  such  an  one,  Mr.  Varbryk,  as  I  came  along 
in  this  journey ;  who  was  ordained  last  fall,  about  five  miles  beyond 
Dobbs'  Ferry,  in  New-York  government.  Mr.  William  Tennent 
told  me,  that  Mr.  John  Light,  a  pious  young  Dutch  minister  in 
New-Jersey,  was  translating  the  accounts  from  Holland  into  English. 
Mr.  Brainerd  has  had  some  special  success  lately,  through  mercy ; 
so  that  nine  or  ten  Indians  appear  to  be  under  conviction,  as  he 
tells  me ;  and  about  twelve  of  the  white  people  near  them,  that 
used  to  be  stupid  like  the  very  heathen ;  and  many  others  more 
thoughtful  and  serious.  Mr.  Sacket  has  lately  been  favoured  widi 
peculiar  success,  in  reducing  a  number  drawn  away  and  infected 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  401 

by  the  Separatists ;  and  some  endeavours  I  have  used  since  that, 
and  with  him,  have,  I  trust,  not  been  altogether  in  vain.  The  good 
Lord  grant,  that  false  religion  may  cease,  and  true  religion  prevail 
through  the  earth !"  This  letter  of  Mr.  Davenport  was  dated 
April  26,  1751. 

"  The  Dutch  people  in  the  provinces  of  New-York  and  New- 
Jersey,  have  been  famed  for  being  generally  exceedingly  ignorant, 
stupid  and  profane,  litde  better  than  the  savages  of  our  American 
deserts.     But  it  is  remarkable,  that  things  should  now  begin  to  ap- 
pear more  hopeful  among  them,  about  the  same  time  that  religion 
is  reviving  among  the  Dutch  in  their  mother  country  ;  and  certainly, 
the  revivals  of  religion  which  have  very  lately  appeared,  especially 
among  the  Dutch  in  Europe,  do  verify  God's  holy  word,  which  not 
only  gives  such  great  encouragement  to  those,  who  have  engaged 
in  the  Concert  for  United  Prayer,  begun  in  Scotland,  to  go  for- 
ward, but  binds  it  strongly  upon  them  so  to  do ;  and  shows  that  it  will 
be  an  aggravated  fault,  if,  after  God  does  such  glorious  things,  so  soon 
after  we  have  begun  in  an  extraordinary  manner  to  ask  them,  we 
should  grow  cold  and  slack,  and  begin  to  faint.     And  I  think  what 
God  has  now  done,  may  well  cause  those,  who  seemed  at  first, 
with  some  zeal,  to  engage  in  the  affair,  but  have  grown  careless 
about  it,  and  have  left  off,  to  reflect  on  themselves  with  blushing  and 
confusion.     What  if  you,  dear  Sir,  and  odier  ministers  in  Scotland, 
who  have  been  engaged  in  this  affair,  should  now^  take  occasion  to 
inform  ministers  in  the  Netherlands  of  it,  and  move  them  to  come 
into  it,  and  join  with  us,  in  our  united  and  extraordinary  prayers, 
for  an  universal  revival  of  religion  ? 

"  As  to  my  present  circumstances,  I  came  the  last  week  to  this 
place,  having  undertaken  the  business  of  a  missionary  to  the  Indians 
here ;  having  been  chosen  the  pastor  of  this  church,  and  chosen 
missionary  by  the  Commissioners  for  Indian  affairs  in  Boston.  My 
instalment  is  appointed  to  be  on  the  second  Thursday  in  the  next 
month.*  I  don't  expect  to  get  ready  to  remove  my  family,  till 
winter.  But  I  must  refer  you,  dear  Sir,  to  my  letters  to  Mr. 
M'Laurin  and  Mr.  Robe,  for  a  more  full  account  of  my  circumstan- 
ces, and  of  the  things  which  have  passed  relating  to  them.  I  have, 
with  this,  sent  you  the  Gazette,  containing  the  Result  of  the  late 
Council  at  Northampton,  and  intend  to  order  one  of  my  Farewell 
Sermons  to  be  put  up  for  you.  My  family  were  in  their  usual 
state  of  health  when  I  left  them,  excepting  my  youngest  child,  w^ho 
had  something  like  an  intermitdng  fever. 

"  Please  to  present  my  cordial  respects,  and  christian  love,  to 
your  dear  consort,  and  remember  me  in  your  prayers,  with  regard  to 


♦=  This  part  of  the  letter  must  have  been  written  in  3u]y^  as  the  installation 
took  place  in  August. 


462  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

the  trials  and  changes  I  am  called  to  pass  through,  and  the  new 
important  business  I  have  undertaken. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most 

"  united  and  obliged  friend  and  brother, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

From  Mr.  Gillespie  he  received,  about  this  period,  a  letter  most 
grateful  to  his  own  feelings,  expressing  a  lively  and  affectionate 
sympathy  in  his  afflictions,  as  well  as  surprize  and  astonishment  at 
the  conduct  of  the  people  of  Northampton.  ]Mr.  Edwards,  in  his 
reply,  communicates  a  series  of  facts  respecting  them,  which  not 
only  were  adapted,  at  the  time,  to  remove  these  impressions  of  his 
friend ;  but  will  be  found,  also,  to  contain  a  most  important  and 
salutary  lesson  of  instruction,  to  every  clergyman,  and  every  church. 
The  solemn  caution  of  the  Apostle,  in  1  Cor.  iii.  10 — 15,  to  every 
minister,  to  take  care  how  he  builds  up  the  temple  of  God,  of 
which  Jesus  Christ  is  the  foundation — a  caution,  which  refers  not 
only  to  the  nature  of  the  doctrines  which  he  teaches;  but,  also,  and 
even  more  especially,  (as  will  be  obvious  from  verses  16  and  17,) 
to  the  character  of  the  members  whom  he  adds  to  the  church  of 
Christ,  which  is  the  temple  of  God  ; — is  here  enforced  most  solemn- 
ly, by  arguments  derived  from  experience. 

"  To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gillespie,  Carnock. 

^^  Stockhridge,  July  1,  1751. 

"  Rev.  and  very  dear  Sir, 

•'  I  am  very  greatly  obliged  to  you,  for  your  most  kind,  affection- 
ate, comfortable,  and  profitable  letter  of  Feb.  2,  1751.  I  thank 
you,  dear  Sir,  for  your  sympathy  with  me,  under  my  troubles,  so 
amply  testified,  and  the  many  suitable  and  proper  considerations, 
you  suggest  to  me,  for  my  comfort  and  improvement.  May  God 
enable  me  to  make  a  right  improvement  of  them. 

"  It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at,  dear  Sir,  that  you  are  shocked  and 
surprized,  at  what  has  happened  between  me  and  the  people  of  Nortli- 
ampton.  It  is  surprizing  to  all  impartial  and  considerate  persons 
that  live  near,  and  have  the  greatest  advantage  to  know  the  circum- 
stances of  the  affair,  and  the  things  that  preceded  the  event,  and 
made  way  for  it.  But  no  wonder,  if  it  be  much  more  so,  to  stran- 
gers at  a  distance.  I  doubt  not,  but  that  God  intends  his  own  glory, 
and  the  safety  and  prosperity  of  Zion,  and  the  advancement  of  the 
interests  of  religion,  in  the  issue  of  this  event. 

"  But  it  is  best,  that  the  true  state  of  the  case  should  be  known, 
and  that  it  should  be  viewed  as  it  is,  in  order  to  receiving  tliat  instruc- 
tion which  divine  Providence  holds  forth  in  it,  and  in  order  to  pro- 
per reflections  and  right  improvement. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  463 

"As  there  is  a  difference  among  particular  persons,  as  to  their 
natural  temper,  so  there  is  some  difference  of  this  kind  to  be  ob- 
served in  different  countries,  and  also  in  different  cities  and  towns. 
The  people  of  Northampton  have,  ever  since  I  can  remember,  been 
famed  for  a  high  spirited  people,  and  of  a  difficult  and  turbulent 
temper.  However,  though  in  some  respects  they  have  been  a  stiff- 
necked  people,  yet  God  has  been  pleased,  in  times  past,  to  bestow 
many  distinguishing  favours  upon  them.  The  town  has  stood  now 
near  one  hundred  years.  Their  first  minister,  Mr.  Eleazar  Ma- 
ther, brother  to  Dr.  Increase  Mather  of  Boston,  and  Mr.  Sam- 
uel Mather  of  Dublin,  Ireland  ;  w^as  a  very  eminent  man  of  God. 
After  him  came  Mr.  Stoddard,  my  grandfather,  a  very  great 
man,  of  strong  powers  of  mind,  of  great  grace  and  great  author- 
ity, of  a  masterly  countenance,  speech  and  behaviour.  He  had 
much  success  in  his  ministry ;  there  being  many  seasons  in  his 
day,  of  general  awakening  among  his  people.  He  continued  in 
the  ministry,  at  Northampton,  about  sixty  years.  But  God  was 
pleased,  in  some  respects,  especially,  to  manifest  his  power  in 
the  weakness  of  his  successor;  there  having  been  a  more  re- 
markable awakening,  since  his  death,  than  ever  had  been  till 
then,  in  that  town:  although  since  that,  also,  a  greater  declen- 
sion, and  more  awful  departures  from  God,  in  some  respects, 
than  ever  before  ;  and  so  the  last  minister  has  had  more  to  humble 
him,  than  either  of  his  predecessors.  May  the  effect  be  answera- 
ble to  God's  just  expectatations. 

"  The  people  have,  from  the  beginning,  been  well  instructed  ; 
having  had  a  name,  for  a  long  time,  for  a  very  knowing  people  ;  and 
many  have  appeared  among  them,  persons  of  good  abilities ;  and 
many,  born  in  the  town,  have  been  promoted  to  places  of  public 
trust:  they  have  been  a  people  distinguished  on  this  account. 
These  things  have  been  manifestly  abused  to  nourish  the  pride  of 
their  natural  temper,  which  had  made  them  more  difficult  and  un- 
manageable. There  w^ere  some  mighty  contests  and  controversies 
among  them,  in  Mr.  Stoddard's  day ;  which  were  managed  with 
great  heat  and  violence  :  some  great  quarrels  in  the  Church,  where- 
in Mr.  Stoddard,  great  as  his  authority  was,  knew  not  what  to  do 
with  them.  In  one  ecclesiastial  controversy  in  Mr.  Stoddard's  day, 
wherein  the  church  was  divided  into  two  pardes,  the  heat  of  spiiit 
was  raised  to  such  a  degree,  that  it  came  to  hard  blows.  A  mem- 
ber of  one  party  met  the  head  of  the  opposite  party,  and  assaulted 
him,  and  beat  him  unmercifully.  In  latter  times,  the  people  have 
had  more  to  feed  their  pride.  They  have  grown  a  much  greater 
and  more  wealthy  people  than  formerly,  and  are  become  more 
extensively  famous  in  the  world,  as  a  people  that  have  ex- 
celled in  gifts  and  grace,  andhad  God  extraordinarily  among  them  ; 
which  has  insensibly  engendered  and  nourished  spiritual  pride,  that 


464  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

grand  inlet  of  the  devil  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  avenue  of  all  man- 
ner of  mischief  among  a  professing  people.  Spiritual  pride  is  a 
most  monstrous  thing.  If  it  be  not  discerned,  and  vigourously  op- 
posed, in  the  beginning,  it  very  often  soon  raises  persons  above  their 
teachers,  and  supposed  spiritual  fathers,  and  sets  them  out  of  the 
reach  of  all  rule  and  instruction,  as  I  have  seen  in  innumerable  in- 
stances. And  there  is  this  inconvenience,  attending  the  publishing 
of  Narratives  of  a  work  of  God  among  a  people,  (such  is  the  cor- 
ruption, that  is  in  the  hearts  of  men,  and  even  of  good  men,)  that 
there  is  great  danger  of  their  making  it  an  occasion  of  spiritual  pride. 
There  is  great  reason  to  think  that  the  Northampton  people  have 
provoked  God  greatly  against  them,  by  trusting  in  their  privileges 
and  attainments.  And  the  consequences  may  well  be  a  warning  to 
all  God's  people,  far  and  near,  that  hear  of  them. 

"Another  thing,  w  liich  probably  has  contributed  in  some  measure  to 
the  unhappiness  of  the  people's  manners,  was,  that  ]Mr.  Stoddard, 
though  an  eminently  holy  man,  was  naturally  of  a  dogmatical  temper; 
and  the  people  being  brought  up  under  him,  and  with  a  high  vene- 
ration for  him,  were  naturally  led  to  imitate  him.  Especially  their 
officers  and  leading  men,  seemed  to  think  it  an  excellency,  to  be 
like  him  in  this  respect. 

"  It  has  been  a  very  great  wound  to  the  Church  of  Northamp- 
ton, that  there  has  been  for  forty  or  fifty  years,  a  sort  of  settled  di- 
vision of  the  people  into  tw^o  parties,  somewhat  like  the  Court  and 
Country  party,  in  England,  (if  I  may  compare  small  things  with 
great.)  There  have  been  some  of  the  chief  men  in  the  town,  of 
chief  authority  and  wealth,  that  have  been  great  proprietors  of 
their  lands,  who  have  had  one  party  with  them.  And  the  other 
party,  which  has  commonly  been  the  greatest,  have  been  of  those, 
who  have  been  jealous  of  them,  apt  to  envy  them,  and  afraid 
of  their  having  too  much  powder  and  influence  in  town  and  church. 
This  has  been  a  foundation  of  innumerable  contentions  among 
the  people,  from  time  to  time,  which  have  been  exceedingly  griev- 
ous to  me,  and  by  which  doubtless  God  has  been  dreadfully  pro- 
voked, and  his  Spirit  grieved  and  quenched,  and  much  confusion 
and  many  evil  works  have  been  introduced. 

"  Another  thing,  that  evidently  has  contributed  to  our  calamities, 
is,  that  the  people  had  got  so  established  in  certain  wrong  notions 
and  ways  in  religion,  which  I  found  them  in,  and  could  never 
beat  them  out  of.  Particularly ;  it  was  too  much  their  method 
to  lay  almost  all  the  stress  of  their  hopes  in  religion,  on  the 
particular  shape  and  method  of  their  first  work  ;  i.  e.  the  first 
work  of  the  Spirit  of  God  on  their  hearts,  in  their  conviction 
and  conversion ;  and  to  look  but  little  at  the  abiding  sense  and 
temper  of  their  hearts,  and  the  course  of  their  exercises,  and 
trials  of  grace,  for  evidences  of  their  good  estate.  Nor  had  they 
learned,    and  many  of  them  never  could  be  made  to  learn,  to  dis- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    ED\VAPa>S.  40'^ 

tinguish  between  impressions  on  the  imagination,  and  lively  spiritual 
experience,  and  when  1  came  among  them,  I  found  it  to  be  too 
much  a  custom  among  them  without  discretion,  or  distinction  of 
occasions,  places,  or  companies,  to  declare  and  publish  their  ouii 
experiences  ;  and  oftentimes  to  do  it  in  a  light  manner,  without  any 
air  of  solemnity.  This  custom  has  not  a  little  contributed  to  spirit- 
ual pride  and  many  other  evils.  When  I  first  settled  among  the 
people,  being  young  and  of  little  experience,  I  was  not  thoroughly 
aware  of  the  ill  consequences  of  such  a  custom,  and  so  allowed  or 
at  least  did  not  testify  against  it,  as  I  ought  to  have  done. 

"  And  here  I  desire  it  may  be  observed,  that  I  would  be  far  from 
so  laying  all  the  blame  of  the  sorrowful  things,  that  have  come  to 
pass,  to  the  people,  as  to  suppose  that  I  have  no  cause  of  self-re- 
flection and  humiliation  before  God,  on  this  occasion.  I  am  sen- 
sible that  it  becomes  me  to  look  on  what  has  lately  happened,  as  an 
awful  frown  of  heaven  on  me,  as  well  as  on  the  people.  God 
knows  the  sinfulness  of  my  heart,  and  the  great  and  sinful  deficien- 
cies and  offences,  which  I  have  been  guilty  of,  in  the  course  of 
my  ministry  at  Northampton.  I  desire  diat  God  would  discover 
them  to  me  more  and  more,  and  that  now  he  would  effectually 
humble  me,  and  mortify  my  pride  and  self-confidence,  and  empty 
me  entirely  of  myself,  and  make  me  to  know  how  that  I  deserve  to 
be  cast  away,  as  an  abominable  branch  and  as  a  vessel  wherein  is 
no  pleasure  ;  and,  if  it  may  consist  with  his  holy  will,  that  he  would 
sanctify  me,  and  make  me  a  vessel  more  meet  for  my  Master's 
use  ;  and  yet  improve  me  as  an  instrument  of  his  glory,  and  the 
good  of  the  souls  of  mankind. 

"  One  thing,  that  has  contributed  to  bring  things  to  such  a  pass 
at  Northampton,  was  my  youth,  and  w^ant  of  more  judgment  and 
experience,  in  the  time  of  that  extraordinary  awakening,  about  six- 
teen years  ago.^  Instead  of  a  youth,  there  was  want  of  a  giant, 
in  judgment  and  discretion,  among  a  people  in  such  an  extraordi- 
nary state  of  things.  In  some  respects,  doubdess,  my  confidence 
in  myself  was  a  great  injury  to  me ;  but  in  other  respects  my  diffi- 
dence of  myself  injured  me.  It  was  such,  that  I  durst  not  act  my 
own  judgment,  and  had  no  strength  to  oppose  received  notions,  and 
established  customs,  and  to  testify  boldly  against  some  glaring  false 
appearances,  and  counterfeits  of  religion,  till  it  was  too  late.  And 
by  this  means,  as  well  as  others,  many  things  got  foofing,  w^hich 
have  proved  a  dreadful  source  of  spiritual  pride,  and  other  things 
that  are  exceedingly  contrary  to  true  Christianity.  If  I  had  had  more 
experience,  and  ripeness  of  judgment  and  courage,  I  should  have 
guided  my  people  in  a  better  manner,  and  should  have  guarded 
them  better  firom  Satan's  devices,  and  prevented  the  spiritual  cala- 


*  In  1 734-35. 

Vol.  I.  59 


466  l^IFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

iiiity  of  many  souls,  and  perhaps  the  eternal  ruin  of  some  of  them ; 
and  have  done  what  would  have  tended  to  lengthen  out  the  tranquil- 
ity of  the  town. 

"  However,  doubtless  at  that  time,  there  w^as  a  very  glorious  work 
of  God  wrought  in  Northampton,  and  there  were  numerous  instan- 
ces of  saving  conversion ;  diough  undoubtedly  many  were  deceived, 
and  deceived  others ;  and  the  number  of  true  converts  was  not  so 
great  as  was  then  imagined.  Many  may  be  ready,  from  tilings  that  are 
lately  come  to  pass,  to  determine,  that  all  Northampton  religion  is 
come  to  nothing ;  and  that  all  the  famed  awakenings,  and  revivals 
of  religion  in  that  place,  prove  to  be  nothing  but  strange  tides  of  a 
melancholy  and  whimsical  humour.  But  they  would  draw  no 
such  conclusion,  if  they  exactly  knew  the  true  state  of  the  case, 
and  would  judge  of  it  with  full  calmness  and  impartiality  of  mind. 

"  There  are  many  things  to  be  considered  in  the  case  of  North- 
ampton : 

"  1.  That  many  of  those,  who  have  been  most  violently  engaged^ 
and  have  chiefly  led  and  excited  others  in  it,  though  they  have 
been  leading  men  m  the  town,  and  have  been  esteemed  considera- 
ble for  their  knowledge,  estate  and  age,  and  have  been  professors 
of  religion,  yet  have  not  been  the  most  famed  for  piety. 

"2.  The  leading  men,  who  have  been  the  most  engaged  in 
this  matter,  who  have  taken  vast  pains  to  stir  up  others  that  are  in- 
feriour,  have  had  this  great  advantage  in  their  hands,  that  the  con- 
troversy was  a  religious  controversy ;  that  that,  which  I  opposed,  was 
what  they  always  had  supposed  to  be  a  part  of  divine  truth,  a  pre- 
cious and  important  doctrine  of  the  word  of  God ;  and,  that  the 
cause  of  my  opposers  was  the  cause  of  God.  This  has  led  the 
more  ignorant,  and  less  considerate  people,  to  look  on  their  zeal 
against  me  as  virtue,  and  to  christen  even  their  passions  and  bitter- 
ness in  such  a  cause  with  sanctified  names,  and  to  let  them  loose, 
and  prosecute  the  views  of  their  bitterness  and  violence  without  a 
check  of  conscience. 

"  3.  They  have  also  had  the  great  advantage  of  the  vast  venera- 
tion, the  people  had  for  Mr.  Stoddard's  memory ;  which  was  such, 
thftt  many  looked  on  him,  almost  as  a  sort  of  deity.  They  were  all, 
(z.  e.  except  the  young  people,)  born  and  brought  up  under  his 
ministry,-  and  had  been  used  from  their  infancy  to  esteem  his  sayings 
all  as  oracles.  And  he,  they  knew,  maintained  that  doctrine  which 
I  oppose,  with  great  positiveness  and  zeal,  and  opposed  the  contra- 
ry, which  I  maintain,  as  an  exceedingly  pernicious  doctrine.  Un- 
der these  circumstances,  I  naturally  appear  as  a  dangerous  opposer 
of  the  cause  of  God,  and  my  teaching  and  insisting  on  the  doctrine, 
which  Mr.  Stoddard  opposed,  appears  to  them  a  sort  of  horrid  pro- 
faneness. 

"  4.  Crafty  designing  men  have  abundantly  filled  the  ears  of  the 
more  ignorant  with  suggestions,  that  my  opinion  tends  to  overthrow 


LlfiL    0¥     PRESIDENT     EDWARDS.  4(37 

all  religion,  and  to  ruin  the  present  and  future  generations,  and 
to  make  all  heathens,  shutting  them  out  of  the  Church  of  Christ. 

*'  5.  Not  only  many  of  the  leading  men  of  Northampton  have 
used  their  utmost  endeavours,  to  engage  the  minds  of  the  common 
people  in  this  controversy,  but  they  have  also  been  put  forward,  by 
the  neighbouring  ministers  all  round.  My  opposers  have  also  been 
assisted  and  edged  on  by  some  at  a  great  distance,  persons  of  note  ; 
and  some  great  men  in  civil  authority  have  had  a  great  hand  in  it. 

"  6.  It  is  to  be  considered,  that  the  contrary  opinion  to  mine, 
had  not  only  long  been  established  in  Northampton,  without  so 
much  as  one  opposer  to  it ;  but  it  had  also  been  fully  and  quietly 
established,  for  a  long  time,  in  all  the  neighbouring  churches  and 
congregations,  and  in  all  the  country  round,  even  to  a  great  dis- 
tance ;  so  that  my  opinion,  when  first  broached,  appeared  to  the 
people  exceedingly  singular.  Their  views  being  very  narrow,  it 
appeared  to  them,  that  all  the  world,  almost,  was  against  me.  And 
my  most  crafty  opposers  improved  this  advantage,  and  abundantly 
represented  me  as  all  alone  in  my  opinion. 

"7.  Many  of  the  people,  who  at  length  came  to  have  dieir  spi- 
rits much  raised,  and  were  brought  to  join  in  violent  measures,  yet 
came  slowly  into  it,  after  being  long  pracdsed  with,  and  indefati- 
gable endeavours  used,  to  engage  and  influence  them. 

"  8.  There  are  about  twenty  heads  of  families,  besides  others, 
women  and  young  people,  who  ever  appeared  openly  against 
the  proceedings  of  the  town,  and  many  others  have  appeared 
friendly  to  me.  And  there  is  not  a  litde  reason  to  think,  that  there 
are  many  more,  especially  women  and  youths,  that  would  appear 
so,  if  they  dare.  For  a  person,  by  appearing  my  friend  at  North- 
ampton, even  so  much  so  as  openly  to  discountenance  my  being  turned 
out  of  the  pulpit,  exposes  himself  to  the  immediate  persecution  of  his 
neighbours,  and  perhaps  of  his  nearest  friends.  I  mean,  he  falls 
under  their  great  resentment,  loses  all  their  friendship,  and  is  every 
where  the  object  of  reproach. 

"  9.  It  is  to  be  considered,  that  these  things  have  happened  when 
God  is  greatly  withdrawn,  and  religion  was  very  low,  not  only  at 
Northampton,  but  all  over  New-England. 

"10.  I  believe  the  devil  is  greatly  alarmed,  by  the  opposition 
made  to  the  lax  doctiine  of  admission  to  the  christian  church,  and 
to  the  corresponding  practice,  which  had  been  so  long  established 
at  Northampton,  and  so  extensively  in  the  country  ;  in  which  he 
found  his  account,  and  hoped  for  more  important  consequences,  and 
more  agreeable  to  him.  And  God,  for  wise  ends,  has  suffered 
him  to  exert  himself,  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  in  opposition ; 
as  God  ordinarily  does,  when  truth  is  in  the  birth. 

"But  I  am  drawn  out  to  an  unexpected  length,  in  my  observations 
on  these  things,  and  have  not  left  myself  room,  nor  time,  for  some 


•16b  LlFi:    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Oilier  tilings,  that  I  would  willingly  write,  and  must  therefore  refer 
you  to  my  letters  to  my  other  correspondents  in  Scotland  ;  particu- 
larly, Mr.  M'Laurin,  Mr.  Robe,  Mr.  M'Culloch,  and  IMr.  Erskine. 
To  some  of  them,  I  have  sent  a  particular  account  of  my  present 
circumstances,  and  of  things  w^hich  have  lately  passed,  relating  to 
them.  I  would  only  say  in  general,  that  I  have  had  a  call  to  set- 
tle in  Stockbridge,  a  place  in  the  western  borders  of  New-England, 
next  to  the  province  of  New- York,  about  thirty-six  miles  from  Al- 
bany, and  about  forty  miles  from  Northampton,  the  place  where 
Mr.  Sergeant  was  minister  and  missionary  to  the  Indians.  I  am 
both  called  by  the  chm'ch  here,  constituted  partly  of  Indians  and 
partly  of  English,  and  am  appointed  missionary  to  the  Indians,  by 
the  Commissioners  of  Indian  affairs,  in  Boston  ;  agreeably  to  what 
you  suggest  in  your  letter,  as  though  you  had  been  able  to  foresee 
future  events,  when  you  say, — "  Perhaps  you  are  to  be  employed  > 
where  the  Gospel  has  been  little  understood,  or  attended  to."  I  sup- 
pose this  place  w^ill,  for  the  future,  be  the  place  of  my  ordinary 
abode,  though  it  will  be  some  months  before  I  can  remove  my  fa- 
mily. I  have  no  leisure,  at  present,  to  WTite  on  the  subject  you 
speak  of,  viz.  impressions,  and  supposed  immediate  revelations, 
though  I  own  the  vast  importance  of  the  subject.  I  had  begun  to 
write  something  against  the  Arminians,  before  the  late  controversy ; 
and  now  lately,  Mr.  Williams  has  written  a  book,  in  answer  to  mine 
on  that  subject ;  wdiich  I  think  myself  obliged  to  answer,  if  God 
give  me  opportunity. 

"  I  have  much  to  teach  me  to  behave  like  a  pilgrim  and  stran- 
ger in  the  earth.  But  in  the  midst  of  troubles  and  difficulties,  1 
receive  many  mercies.  Partiularly,  I  have  great  reason,  with  abun- 
dant thankfubess,  to  take  notice  of  the  great  kindness  of  my  friends 
in  Scotland.  Blessed  be  God,  who  never  forsakes  those,  that  trust 
in  him ;  and  never  wants  instruments,  for  the  conveyance  of  his 
goodness  and  liberality  to  those,  who  suffer  in  his  cause  ! 

"  I  shall  take  care,  that  there  be  conveyed,  with  this  letter,  to 
you,  one  of  my  Farewell  Sermons,  and  the  Result  of  the  Council, 
that  sat  at  Northampton  the  last  May.  Remember  me,  dear  Sir, 
at  the  throne  of  grace,  with  regard  to  all  my  trials ;  and  with  re- 
gard to  my  new^  circumstances,  and  the  important  semce  I  have 
undertaken  in  this  place — and  please,  in  your  next,  to  inform  me, 
what  family  you  have,  and  of  their  state. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most 

"  affectionate  friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  following  letter  of  Mr.  Edwards  to  the  Rev.  Isaac  Hollis, 
tlie  patron  of  one  of  the  Indian  schools  at  Stockbridge,  will  explain 
some  of  the  difficulties,  to  which  they  were  subjected. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4(39 

"  To  Mr.  HoUis. 

"  Stockbridge,  July  2,  1751. 

"  Rev.  and  honoured  Sir, 

"  Having  seen  your  late  letter  to  Mr.  Prince  of  Boston,  and 
another  to  Capt.  Kellogg,  received  this  summer,  and  having  lately 
been  appointed  Missionary  to  the  Indians  in  this  place,  I  thought 
myself  obliged  to  take  the  first  opportunity  to  write  to  you,  who 
have  exerted  yourself,  in  so  extraordinary  a  manner,  to  promote 
our  interests  here,  to  serve  which  I  am  now  devoted;  partly  to  of- 
fer you  my  thanks  for  what  you  have  done,  and  have  lately  offered 
to  do,  with  so  fervent  and  enlarged  a  heart,  and  bountiful  a  hand, 
for  the  advancement  and  enlargement  of  Christ's  kingdom  of  grace 
among  this  poor  people,  and  tlie  eternal  welfare  of  their  souls; 
which  may  well  excite  the  joy  and  admiration  of  all  good  christians, 
the  thanks  of  all  who  make  the  interests  of  Zion  their  own,  and 
especially  of  him  who  has  the  souls  of  the  Indians  committed  to  his 
own  more  immediate  care. 

"  I  write,  also,  partly  to  inform  you  of  what  I  have  had  opportu- 
nity to  observe,  of  the  state  of  things  here,  relating  to  the  affair  of 
the  instruction  of  the  Indians,  which  you  have  a  right  to  know;  it 
being  an  affair  in  which  you  have  been  pleased  so  greatly  to  inter- 
est yourself,  and  which  depends  so  much  on  the  effects  of  your 
most  generous  christian  beneficence.  I  have  had  considerable  op- 
portunity to  observe  the  state  of  things  ;  for  though  it  is  but  about 
a  month  since  I  came  here,  after  I  had  undertaken  the  work  of  the 
ministry  here,  as  the  stated  Missionary,  yet  I  had  been  here  before, 
two  months  in  the  winter,  and  then  spent  much  time  with  the  In- 
dians, particularly  with  the  Mohawks  under  the  care  of  Capt. 
Kellogg. 

"There  are  here  two  schools  for  the  instruction  of  Indian  child- 
ren :  one  under  the  care  of  Mr.  Timothy  Woodbridge,  which  be- 
gan soon  after  Mr.  Sergeant  began  to  preach  to  these  Indians, — this 
school  consists  wholly  of  the  \)Y0^er  Housatonnuck  Indians ;  the  other, 
under  the  care  of  Capt.  Kellogg,  which  he  began  \\4th  the  Housa- 
tonnucks,  on  the  plan  which  Mr.  Sergeant  projected ;  but,  in  the 
changeable  unsettled  state,  in  which  things  have  been  since  Mr. 
Sergeant's  death,  it  has  been  altered  from  that  form,  and  the  Hou- 
satonnuck  boys  have  left  it,  and  it  now  consists  wholly  of  Mohawk 
children,  which  have  been  brought  down  hither  by  their  parents, 
from  their  own  proper  country,  about  eighty  miles,  to  this  end,  that 
they  might  be  taught  to  read,  and  write,  and  be  instructed  in  the 
christian  religion. 

"  There  are  some  things,  which  give  a  hopeful  prospect  with  re- 
gard to  these  Mohawk  Indians  ;  particularly  the  forward  inclination 
of  the  children  and  their  aptness  to  learn.  But  that,  which  has 
evidently  been  the  greatest  defect  from  the  beginning  in  the  metliod 


470  LIFE    UF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

of  instruction  here,  k,  that  no  more  proper  and  effectual  mea- 
sures have  been  taken,  to  bring  the  children  that  are  here, 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  English  tongue.  For  want  of  this, 
;ill  the  labour  and  cost,  which  have  been  expended  in  schools 
here,  for  about  fourteen  years,  have  been  consequently  to  but 
little  effect  or  benefit.  When  the  children  are  taught  to  read, 
many  of  them,  for  want  of  the  English  language  know  nothing  of 
what  they  read  ;  their  books  being  all  in  English.  They  merely 
learn  to  make  such  and  such  sounds,  on  the  sight  of  such  and  such 
marks,  but  know  not  the  meaning  of  the  words,  and  so  have  neither 
profit  nor  pleasure  in  reading,  and  will  therefore  be  apt  soon  to 
lose  even  what  they  have  learned,  having  no  benefit  or  entertain- 
ment in  the  use  of  it. 

"  It  is  on  many  other  accounts  of  great  importance,  that  they 
should  be  brought  to  know  the  English  language.  This  would 
greatly  tend  to  forward  their  instruction ;  their  o^\ti  barbarous  lan- 
guages being  exceedingly  barren,  and  very  unfit  to  express  moral 
and  divine  things.  It  would  likewise  open  their  minds,  and,  by 
means  of  their  acquaintance  and  conversation  with  the  English, 
would  tend  to  advance  them  in  knowledge  and  civihzation.  Some 
pains  has  been  taken  to  teach  the  children  the  EngUsh  tongue,  but 
nothing  very  considerable  has  been  accomphshed.  And  I  can 
think  of  but  two  ways  in  which  it  can  be  effected  : — either  by  intro- 
ducing a  number  of  English  children  into  the  schools,  to  learn  witli 
them,  and  be  their  mates ;  or  by  distributing  the  Indian  children  into 
English  famihes,  to  live  there  a  year  or  two,  where  they  must  be 
allowed  to  speak  the  English  and  nothing  else,  and  then  return  into 
the  Indian  schools,  to  perfect  them  in  reading  and  writing,  and  the 
knowledge  of  the  principles  of  religion,  and  all  other  useful  knowl- 
edge. The  latter,  if  their  parents  can  be  persuaded  to  consent  to 
it,  as  probably  they  may,  \\ill  be  much  the  most  effectual. 

"  I  would  therefore.  Sir,  humbly  propose,  that  some  such  me- 
thod should  be  taken  with  regard  to  the  children,  who  have  the  be- 
nefit of  your  liberality ;  and  that  part  of  your  benefaction  should  be 
expended  in  this  way,  under  the  care  of  prudent  and  faithful  Trus- 
tees ;  for,  in  order  to  the  business  being  managed  thoroughly  in  fu- 
ture, a  great  deal  of  care  and  activity  will  be  necessary,  vastly 
more  than  the  schoolmaster  can  have  leisure  for.  There  are  ma- 
ny things,  pertaining  to  the  regulation  of  the  affairs  of  the  instruc- 
tion of  the  Indian  cliildren,  which  seem  greatly  to  require  the  care 
of  a  number  of  persons,  w^ho  shall  be  entrusted  to  dispose  things  ac- 
cording to  the  best  of  their  discretion ;  sending  from  time  to  time,  a 
particular  and  exact  account  of  the  manner,  in  which  they  have  laid 
out  your  money. 

"  I  thought  myself  obliged  to  give  you  these  intimations ;  you  be- 
ing at  a  great  distance,  and  not  capable  of  knowing  the  exact  state 
of  things,  any  otherwise,  than  by  the  information  of  those  who  are 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  471 

on  the  spot;  and  it  being  fit  that  you  should  know  those  circumstan- 
ces, which  are  of  so  much  importance  to  the  affair,  that,  without  a 
proper  regard  to  them,  the  great  expense,  which  you  incur,  is  Hable 
to  be  in  a  great  measure  in  vain. 

"  I  humbly  request  your  prayers  to  the  Fountain  of  all  light  and 
grace,  for  his  guidance  and  assistance  in  this  important  service, 
which  I  have  lately  undertaken  in  this  place. 
"I  am.  Honoured  Sir, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"  And  affectionate  brother  in  the  gospel  ministry, 

"Jonathan  Edwards. 

A  conference  was  appointed,  to  be  held  at  Albany,  the  last  week 
in  June,  1751,  betw^een  the  Commissioners  of  the  governments  of 
Massachusetts,  Connecticut  and  New- York,  and  the  Chiefs  of  the 
Iroquois,  or  Six  Nations,  for  the  purpose  of  making  a  treaty.  The 
Commissioners  of  Massachusetts  were  directed  to  pass  through 
Stockbridge,  on  their  way  to  Albany,  for  the  purpose  of  conferring 
with  the  Mohawks,  already  there,  about  their  settlement  in  New- 
England.  On  their  arrival,  they  found  that  Hendrick,  and  almost 
all  the  heads  of  families,  on  account  of  their  disgust  at  the  neglect 
of  their  children,  on  the  part  of  Capt.  Kellogg,  had  returned  to 
their  owti  country.  In  consequence  of  this,  they  requested  Mr. 
Edwards  to  go  to  Albany,  and  be  present  at  the  conference  ;  whith- 
er he  accordingly  went,  the  first  week  in  July.  In  an  interview 
with  Hendrick  and  Nicholas,  he  endeavoured  to  persuade  them,  to 
influence  as  many  of  the  Mohawk  Chiefs,  as  possible,  to  go  to  Stock- 
bridge,  and  there  treat  of  their  removal  to  New-England.  This 
being  urged  upon  them  afterwards,  by  the  Commissioners  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, w*as  agreed  to  by  them  and  the  other  Chiefs ;  and  a  con- 
ference appointed,  to  be  held  at  Stockbridge,  in  August.  Mr.  Ed- 
w^ards  then  returned  to  Stockbridge,  and,  in  the  latter  part  of  July, 
to  his  family  in  Northampton. 

The  first  week  in  August,  he  removed  his  family  and  effects  from 
Northampton  to  Stockbridge;  and  on  Thursday,  Aug.  8th,  w^as 
regularly  installed  as  the  minister  of  the  congregation  in  that  place, 
and  inducted  into  the  office  of  Missionary,  to  the  Indians  residing 
in  its  \icinity.  His  salary  was  derived  from  three  sources  :  from 
the  parish  of  Stockbridge ;  from  the  Society  in  London,  for  pro- 
pagating the  Gospel  in  New^-England,  and  the  parts  adjacent,  whose 
missionary  he  w^as,  through  their  Commissioners  at  Boston ;  and  from 
the  Legislature  of  the  Colony,  as  a  part  of  the  annual  fund  devoted 
to  the  civilization  of  the  Indians.  This  latter  sum  was  paid,  of  course, 
to  the  individual,  who  held  the  office  of  minister  and  missionary  at 
Stockbridge,  although  the  government  had  no  voice  in  his  appoint- 
ment. 

On  Tuesday,  Aug.  13th,  the  Chiefs  of  the  Mohawks  came  from 


472  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  ^ 

their  two  principal  settlements,  to  Stockbridge,  and  met  the  Com- 
missioners of  the  province.  The  Chiefs  expressed  a  very  strong 
desire,  that  their  children  might  be  instructed  ;  but  objected  to  the 
removal  to  Stockbrid2;e,  on  the  ground,  that  the  affairs  of  the  Mo- 
hawks there  were  left  in  the  utmost  confusion,  that  no  regidar  school 
was  established,  and  no  thorough  means  taken  for  the  education  of 
tlieir  children.  After  reminding  the  Commissioners,  how  often  the 
English  had  failed  to  fulfil  their  promises,  and  disappointed  the 
hopes,  which  they  had  encouraged  them  to  entertain,  they  request- 
them  to  promise  nothing,  but  what  the  government  would  certainly 
perform.  The  Commissioners  agreed  among  themselves,  that,  in 
consequence  of  the  utter  incompetency  of  Capt.  Kellogg,  another 
instructer,  a  man  of  learning  and  skill,  must  be  procured  for  the 
Mohawk  school ;  and  promised  the  Chiefs,  that  a  regular  school 
should  be  established  for  their  children,  and  a  competent  instructer 
speedily  procured.  After  this,  the  Chiefs  declared  their  accep- 
tance of  the  proposals  made  to  tliem,  of  sending  their  children  to 
Stockbridge  for  instruction,  and  of  coming,  a  number  of  tliem,  to 
reside  there ;  and  tendered  a  belt  of  wampum  to  the  Commission- 
ers, in  confirmation  of  the  agreement,  which  was  accepted.  On 
Thursday,  Aug.  22,  the  Council  was  dissolved,  and  the  Chiefs 
went  home. 

The  Mohawks,  at  this  time,  discovered  a  very  strong  desire  to 
promote  the  education  of  their  children,  and  an  unusual  willingness 
to  receive  religious  instruction  ;  as  did  also  a  part  of  the  tribe  of  the 
Oneiyutas,  or  Oneidas,  residing  at  Onohohquauga,  or  Onohquau- 
ga,  a  settlement  on  the  Susquehannah.  The  French,  having  been 
apprised  of  the  efforts  making  by  the  Enghsh,  in  behalf  of  the  Mo- 
hawks, w^ere  busily  occupied  in  seducing  them,  and  the  other  tribes 
of  the  Iroquois,  to  emigrate  into  Canada ;  and  were  actually  erect- 
ing a  chain  of  forts,  extending  from  Canada,  through  New- York, 
Pennsylvania,  and  the  wilderness  beyond,  to  the  Mississippi.  Mr. 
Edwards,  belie\ing  that,  if  the  utmost  good  faith  was  not  kept  with 
the  Mohawks,  the  whole  plan  of  instructing  them  would  be  defeat- 
ed ;  and  regarding  the  period,  as  a  most  critical  one  for  the  welfare 
of  the  British  Colonies ;  addressed  a  letter,  on  the  subject  of  the 
Indians,  to  the  Hon.  Thomas  Hubbard,  Speaker  of  the  House  of  As- 
sembly. In  this  letter,  he  gave  an  account  of  the  Council  held 
with  the  Chiefs  of  the  Mohawks,  at  Stockbridge,  and  their  agree- 
ment to  encourage  the  education  of  their  children  at  that  place  ; 
mentioned  the  interest  felt  in  the  subject  by  the  Mohawks  and  the 
Oneiyutas,  and  by  some  of  the  Tuscaroras  ;  stated  the  vast  impor- 
tance of  the  existing  crisis,  for  securing  the  friendship  of  the  Six 
Nations ;  recited  the  machinations  of  the  French,  to  seduce  them 
from  the  English  interest,  and  their  hostile  movements  in  the  west ; 
pointed  out  the  religious  and  literary  instruction  of  the  Indians,  as 
the  only  means  of  securing  their  attachment  to  the  British  cause  ; 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4  /  o 

and  detailed  the  measures  necessary  to  be  pursued  at  Stockbridge, 
to  promote  these  great  objects.* 

When  Mr.  Edwards  had  removed  his  family  to  Stockbridge,  he 
found  himself  exceedingly  embarrassed,  from  the  difficulty  of  pro- 
curing the  land,  necessary  for  his  own  immediate  accommodation. 
When  the  town  was  first  setded,  it  was  granted  to  the  Housaton- 
nucks,  except  six  portions,  to  the  late  missionary,  the  school-mas- 
ter, and  four  other  settlers.  These  portions  w^ere  now  distributed 
2imong  fourteen  proprietors,  and  could  be  purchased,  only  at  a  very 
high  price.  He  therefore  presented  a  Petition  to  the  General 
Court,  at  their  session  in  October,  1751,  asking  leave  to  purchase 
the  necessary  lands,  for  his  own  accommodation — a  homestead  in 
the  centre  of  the  town,  and  a  piece  of  wood-land  in  the  outskirts. 
The  Legislature  granted  him  leave  to  purchase  the  homestead,  and 
recommended  to  the  English  inhabitants,  to  provide  the  necessary 
wood-land  for  their  minister. 

On  the  tract  of  land,  which  he  purchased,  near  the  centre  of  the 
town,  Mr.  Edwards,  soon  after,  erected  a  commodious  dw^elling, 
which  is  still  standing. 


*  I  regret  that  the  length  of  this  interesting  letter   renders  Its  insfntion  im- 
practicable. 


Vol.  L  60 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Letter  to  Sir  W.  Pepperell. — Letter  to  Lady  Pepperell. — Letter 
to  his  father. — Arrival  of  Mr.  Hawley. — Increasing  importance 
of  Indian  Establishment. — Schemes  of  its  enemies. — Firm  stand 
taken  by  Mr.  Edivards. — Letter  to  Mr.  Oliver. — Letter  to 
Commissioners. — Difficulties  of  the  Mission. — Answer  to  Mr. 
Williams. — Letter  to  the  people  of  JVorthampton. — Marriage 
of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Burr. — Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. — Letter  to 
Mr.  Hollis.— Letter  to  Mr.  Hubbard. 

The  Indian  establishment  at  Stockbridge,  being  gradually  more 
and  more  known,  excited  more  and  more  the  attention,  and  interest, 
of  the  benevolent  in  England.  Among  these,  Joshua  Paine,  Esq., 
of  London,  addressed  a  Letter  to  Sir  William  Pepperell,  the  Go- 
vernour  of  the  Province ;  requesting  information,  as  to  the  proper 
plan  of  a  school  for  Indian  girls  at  that  place.  An  extract  from  that 
letter  was  forv/arded  to  Mr.  Edwards  from  Sir  William,  through 
the  Secretary  of  the  Commissioners,  with  a  request  that  he  would 
write  to  Sir  William  on  the  subject.  He  accordingly  addressed  to 
him  the  following  Letter. 

«  Stockbridge,  JVov.  28,  1751. 
"  Honoured  Sir, 

"  When  I  had  the  opportunity  the  last  spring  of  waiting  on  your 
Excellency  at  )'Our  seat  at  Kittery,  and  was  there  gratified  and  ho- 
noured by  the  kind  and  hospitable  entertainment  of  your  house,  I 
was  favoured  with  some  conversation  with  you,  concerning  the  af- 
iairs  of  the  Indians  at  Stockbridge,  and  the  business  of  the  mission 
here,  to  which  I  had  then  been  invited.  Ajid  you  were  then 
pleased  generously  to  assure  me  of  your  good  offices,  in  affording 
me  any  assistance  in  this  employment,  which  you  could  render  me, 
through  your  acquaintance  and  correspondence  in  London. 

"  I  have  lately  been  favoured  with  a  letter  from  the  Hon.  An- 
drew Oliver,  of  Boston,  wherein  he  was  pleased  to  send  me  an  Ex- 
tract of  a  letter  to  you  from  Joshua  Paine,  Esq.,  of  London,  con- 
cerning a  proper  plan  of  a  school  for  Indian  girls  in  this  place,  and 
to  propose  to  me  to  write  to  you  on  the  subject  of  the  said  Extract. 
This  encourages  me  to  hope  that  a  letter  from  me,  on  this  subject, 
to  your  Excellency  will  be  kindly  received. 

"  With  this  hope,  I  would  take  leave  to  say,  that  I  think  that,  as 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4/.) 

the  boarding-sohools  here  are  now  in  their  commencement,  and  are 
yet  to  receive  their  form  and  character,  and  that  among  a  people 
hitJierto  unaccustomed  to  any  method  of  instruction  whatever,  it  is 
a  great  pity  but  that  the  method  actually  adopted  should  be  free 
from  the  gross  defects  of  the  ordinary  method  of  teaching  among 
the  Enghsh. 

"  One  of  these  grand  defects,  as  I  humbly  conceive,  is  this,  that 
children  are  habituated  to  learning  without  understanding.  In 
the  common  method  of  teaching,  so  far  as  my  observation  extends, 
children,  when  they  are  taught  to  read,  are  so  much  accustomed  to 
reading,  without  any  kind  of  knowledge  of  the  meaning  of  what  they 
read,  that  they  continue  reading  ^vithout  understanding,  even  a  long 
time  after  they  are  capable  of  understanding,  w^ere  it  not  for  an  ha- 
bit of  making  such  and  such  sounds,  on  the  sight  of  such  and  such 
letters,  with  a  perfect  inattentiveness  to  any  meaning.  In  like 
manner  they  are  taught  their  catechism,  saying  over  the  words  by 
rote,  which  they  began  to  say,  before  they  were  capable  of  easily 
and  readily  comprehending  them.  Being  long  habituated  to  make 
sounds  without  connecting  any  ideas  with  them,  they  so  continue, 
until  they  come  to  be  capable  of  well  understanding  the  words,  and 
would  perhaps  have  the  ideas,  properly  signified  by  the  words,  na- 
turally excited  in  their  minds  on  hearing  the  words,  were  it  not  for 
an  habitual  hearing  and  speaking  them  without  Sny  ideas  ;  so  that,  if 
the  question  w^ere  put  in  phraseology  somewhat  new,  to  which  they 
have  not  been  accustomed,  they  would  not  know  what  to  answer. 
Thus  it  happens  to  children,  even  with  regard  to  the  plainest  printed 
catechisms,  even  those,  which  have  been  contrived  with  great  care 
and  art,  so  that  they  might  be  adapted  to  the  lowest  capacities. 

"  I  should  therefore  think  that,  in  these  boarding-schools,  the 
children  should  never  read  a  lesson,  without  the  master  or  mistress 
taking  care,  that  the  child  be  made  to  attend  to,  and  understand, 
the  meaning  of  the  words  and  sentences  which  it  reads  ;  at  least 
after  the  child  begins  to  read  without  spelling,  and  perhaps  in  some 
degree  before.  And  the  child  should  be  taught  to  understand 
things,  as  well  as  words.  After  it  begins  to  read  in  a  Psalter,  Tes- 
tament or  Bible,  not  only  the  words  and  phrases  should  be  ex- 
plained, but  the  things  which  the  lesson  treats  of  should  be,  in  a 
familiar  manner,  opened  to  the  child's  understanding  ;  and  the 
master  or  mistress  should  enter  into  conversation  with  the  child 
about  them.  Familiar  questions  should  be  put  to  the  child,  about 
the  subjects  of  the  lesson  ;  and  the  child  should  be  encouraged,  and 
drawn  on,  to  speak  freely,  and  in  liis  turn  also  to  ask  questions,  for 
the  resolution  of  his  own  doubts. 

"Many  advantages  would  arise  from  this  method.  By  this 
means,  the  child's  learning  will  be  rendered  pleasant,  entertaining 
and  profitable,  as  his  mind  will  gradually  open  and  expand  with 
knowledge,  and  his  capacity  for  reasoning  be  improved.     His  lesson 


476  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

will  cease  to  be  a  dull,  wearisome  task,  without  any  suitable  plea- 
sure or  benefit.  This  will  be  a  rational  way  of  teaching.  Assist- 
ing the  child's  reason  enables  him  to  see  the  use,  and  end,  and  be- 
nefit of  reading,  at  the  same  time  that  he  takes  pains  from  day  to 
day  to  read.  It  is  the  way  also  to  accustom  the  child,  from  its  in- 
fancy, to  think  and  reflect,  and  to  beget  in  it  an  early  taste  for 
knowledge,  and  a  regularly  increasing  appetite  for  it. 

"  So  also,  with  regard  to  the  method  of  catechizing  children ;  be- 
side obliging  them  to  give  the  answers  in  the  printed  catechism, 
or  in  any  stated  form  of  words,  quesfions  should  be  asked  them 
from  time  to  time,  in  the  same  familiar  manner,  as  they  are  asked 
questions  commonly  about  their  ordinary  affairs,  with  familiar  in- 
structions, explanations,  and  rehearsals  of  things,  intermixed;  and, 
if  it  be  possible,  the  child  should  be  led,  by  wise  and  skilful  man- 
agement, into  the  habit  of  conversation  on  divine  things,  and  should 
gradually  be  divested  of  that  shyness  and  backwardness,  usually 
discovered  in  children,  to  converse  on  such  topics  with  their  supe- 
riors. And  when  the  printed  catechisms  are  used,  as  I  am  far 
from  thinking  they  ought  to  be  entirely  neglected,  care  should  be 
taken,  that  the  child  should  attend  to  the  meaning  of  the  words,  and 
be  able  to  understand  them  ;  to  this  end,  not  only  explaining  the 
words  and  sentences,  but  also  from  time  to  time  varying  the  phra- 
seology, putting  the*  question  in  different  words  of  the  same  sense, 
and  also  intermixing  with  the  questions  and  answers,  whether 
printed  or  not,  some  improvement  or  application,  in  counsels  and 
warnhigs  given  to  them,  founded  on  the  answers  that  have  been 
given. 

"  Beside  the  things  already  mentioned,  there  are  other  things, 
which,  as  it  appears  to  me,  ought  to  be  done,  with  regard  to  the 
education  of  children  in  general,  wherein  the  common  methods  of 
instruction  in  New-England,  are  grossly  defective.  The  teacher, 
in  familiar  discourses,  might,  in  a  little  time,  give  the  children  a 
short  general  scheme  of  the  Scriptural  history,  beginning  with  the 
creation  of  the  world,  and  descending  through  the  various  periods 
of  that  history,  informing  them  of  the  larger  divisions,  and  more  im- 
portant events  of  the  story,  and  giving  them  some  idea  of  their  con- 
nection one  with  another ; — first,  of  the  history  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  then  of  the  New.  And  when  the  children  had  in  their 
heads  this  general  scheme,  then  the  teacher  might,  at  certain  times, 
entertain  them,  in  like  familiar  discourse,  with  the  particular  stories 
of  the  Scriptures,  sometimes  with  one  story,  and  then  with  another, 
before  they  can  obtain  the  knowledge  of  them  themselves,  by  read- 
ing ;  for  example,  at  one  time  the  story  of  the  creation,  at  another 
time  the  story  of  die  flood,  then  the  dispersion  of  the  nations,  the 
calling  of  Abraham,  the  story  of  Joseph,  the  bringing  of  the  children 
of  Israel  out  of  Egypt :  And  in  the  New  Testament,  the  birth  of 
Christ,  some  of  the  chief  acts  of  his  life,  his  death,  his  resurrection, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT   EDWAKiiS. 


his  ascension,  the  efllision  of  the  Holy  Sphit  at  the  day  of  Pente- 
cost, and  some  of  the  chief  of  the  acts  of  the  Apostles ;  Avithal, 
poindng  out  to  them  the  place  which  each  event  has  in  the  general 
scheme,  and  the  connection  it  has  with  other  main  parts  of  it. 
The  teacher,  in  a  familiar  manner,  should  apply  the  events  of  the 
story  discoursed  upon,  with  the  design  of  informing  the  child's  un- 
derstanding, influencing  his  heart,  and  directing  his  practice.  A 
child,  who  is  able  to  read  his  Bible,  might  be  set  to  read  a  particu- 
lar Scriptural  history,  sometimes  one,  and  sometimes  another,  dih- 
gently  observing  it,  and  examining  for  himself,  all  that  is  said  con- 
cerning it.  And  when  he  has  done,  he  might  be  called  to  the  mas- 
ter or  mistress,  and  enquired  of,  concerning  the  particulars  of  the 
history,  to  see  that  he  has  paid  attention,  and  is  able  to  give  a  good 
account  of  it. 

"  And  I  can  see  no  good  reason,  why  children  in  general,  be- 
side the  Scriptural  history,  should  not,  in  a  like  familiar  manner 
of  conversation,  be  taught  something  of  the  great  successive  chan- 
ges and  events,  in  the  Jewish  nation,  and  the  world  at  large,  which 
connect  the  history  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments.  Thus,  they 
might  be  informed,  in  short,  of  the  manner  in  which  the  Four 
Great  Monarchies  succeeded  each  other,  the  persecutions  which 
the  Jews  suffered  from  Antiochus  Epiphanes,  and  the  principal 
changes  which  happened  to  their  Church  and  State,  before  the 
coming  of  Christ.  And  they  might  be  shown,  how  such  and  such 
events  were  a  fulfilment  of  such  and  such  prophecies.  And  when 
they  learn  the  history  of  the  New  Testament,  they  might,  with 
much  profit  and  entertainment,  have  pointed  out  to  them,  many 
plain  prophecies  of  tlie  Old  Testament,  which  have  their  fulfilment 
in  him.  And  I  can  see  no  good  reason,  why  children  cannot,  or 
may  not,  be  taught  something  in  general  of  Ecclesiastical  History, 
and  be  informed  how  things,  with  regard  to  the  State  of  Religion 
and  the  Church  of  God,  have  gone  on,  as  to  some  of  the  main 
events,  from  the  time  when  the  Scriptural  history  ended,  to  the 
present  time ;  and  how  given  Prophecies  of  the  Scriptures  have 
been  fulfilled  in  some  of  these  events ;  or  why  they  may  not  be 
told,  what  may  yet  be  expected  to  come  to  pass,  according  to  the 
Scriptural  Prophecies,  from  this  time,  to  the  end  of  the  world. 

"  It  appears  to  me  obvious,  also,  that,  in  connection  with  all  this, 
they  should  be  taught  somewhat  relating  to  the  chronology  of  events, 
wiiich  would  make  the  story  so  much  the  more  distinct  and  enter- 
taining. Thus,  they  may  be  taught  how  long  it  was  from  the  Cre- 
ation of  the  world  to  the  Coming  of  Christ ;  how  long  from  the 
Creadon  to  the  Flood ;  how  long  from  the  Flood  to  the  calling  of 
Abraham,  etc. ;  how  long  David  lived  before  Christ ;  how  long  be- 
fore the  Captivity  in  Babylon ;  how  long  the  Captivity,  before 
Christ,  etc. ;  how  long  since  the  birth  of  Christ ;  how  old  he  was 
when  he  began  to  preach,  and  when  he  was  crucified  ;  how  long 


478  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

after  his  resurrection,  before  he  ascended ;  how  long,  also,  after 
tlie  destruction  of  Jerusalem  by  Nebuchadnezzar,  until  Babylon 
was  destroyed  by  Cyi'us  ;  how  long  after  the  beginning  of  the  Per- 
sian Empire,  before  that  empire  was  overthrown  by  Alexander ; 
when  was  the  great  oppression  of  the  Jews  by  Antiochus  Epiphanes  ; 
when  Judea  was  conquered  by  the  Romans;  how  long  after  Christ's 
resurrection,  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem ;  and  how  long 
before  the  empire  became  Christian  ;  how  lowg  after  Christ,  before 
the  Popes  claimed  such  and  such  powers;  when  the  worship  of 
images  was  introduced  ;  how  long  before  the  Reformation,  etc.  etc. 
All  children  are  capable  of  being  informed,  and  having  an  idea  of 
these  things,  and  can  much  more  easily  learn  them,  if  endeavours 
were  used  to  that  end,  than  many  things  which  they  do  learn. 

"  And  with  like  ease,  and  with  equal  benefit,  they  might  be 
taught  some  of  the  main  things  in  Geography  :  which  way  the  land 
of  Canaan  lies  from  this  ;  how  far  it  is ;  which  way  Eg}"pt  lay  from 
Canaan;  which  way  Babylon  lay  from  Jerusalem,  and  how  far; 
which  way  Padan-Aram  was  from  Canaan ;  w  here  Rome  lay  from 
Jerusalem  ;  w^here  Antioch  ;  etc.  etc. 

"  And  I  cannot  but  think  it  might  be  a  pretty  easy  thing,  if  proper 
means  were  taken,  to  teach  children  to  spell  well,  and  girls  as  well 
as  boys,  I  should  think  it  may  be  worth  the  while,  on  various  ac- 
counts, to  teach  them  to  write,  and  also  to  teach  them  a  little  of 
arithmetic,  some  of  the  first  and  plainest  rules.  Or,  if  it  be  judged, 
that  it  is  needless  to  teach  all  the  children  all  these  things,  some  dif- 
ference might  be  made  in  children  of  different  genius,  and  children 
of  the  best  genius  might  be  taught  more  things  than  others.  And 
all  would  serve,  the  more  speedily  and  effectually,  to  change  the 
taste  of  Indians,  and  to  bring  them  off  from  their  barbarism  and 
brutality,  to  a  relish  for  those  things,  which  belong  to  civilization  and 
refinement. 

"  Another  thing,  which  properly  belongs  to  a  christian  education, 
and  which  would  be  unusually  popular  with  them,  and  which 
would  in  several  respects  have  a  pow^erful  influence,  in  promoting 
the  great  end  in  view,  of  leading  them  to  renounce  the  coarseness, 
and  filth  and  degradation,  of  savage  life,  for  cleanliness,  refinement 
and  good  morals,  is  teaching  them  to  sing.  Music,  especially  sacred 
music,  has  a  powerful  efficacy  to  soften  the  heart  into  tenderness, 
to  harmonize  the  affections,  and  to  give  the  mind  a  relish  for  ob- 
jects of  a  superiour  character. 

"  In  order  to  promote  the  salvation  of  the  children,  which  is  the 
main  design  of  the  whole  Indian  establishment  at  this  place,  I  think 
that,  beside  their  attending  public  w^orship  on  the  sabbatli,  and  die 
daily  w^orship  of  the  family,  and  catechizing  in  the  school,  and  fre- 
quent counsels  and  warnings  given  them,  when  all  together,  by  their 
teachers  ;  each  child  should,  from  time  to  time,  be  dealt  with  sing- 
ly, particularly  and  closely,  about  the   state  and  concerns  of  his 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  479 

soul ;  ami  particular  care  should  be  taken  to  teach  and  direct  each 
child,  concerning  the  duty  of  secret  prayer,  and  the  duty  pressed 
and  enforced  on  every  one  ;  and  care  should  be  taken,  that  all  may 
have  oroper  opportunity  and  convenience  for  it. 

"I  need  say  nothing  concerning  buildings,  lodgings,  household, 
stuff,  cattle,  servants,  husbandry  instruments,  and  utensils  for  the 
children's  work ;  as  it  is  agreed  on  all  hands,  that  these  are  neces- 
sary ;  and  the  providing  of  them  will  doubdess  be  left  to  the  care 
and  discretion  of  the  Trustees,  that  shall  be  appointed. 

"  But  I  would  beg  leave  to  say  further,  widi  regard  to  methods 
to  forward  the  proficiency  of  the  children  in  their  learning,  that  I 
cannot  but  think  measures  might  be  devised,  greatly  to  encourage 
and  animate  them  in  it,  and  excite  a  laudable  ambition  to  excel. 
One  thing  I  have  thought  of,  which,  as  appears  to  me,  might  have 
a  happy  tendency  this  way,  in  each  of  the  boarding-schools :  at 
certain  periods,  there  should  be  a  sort  of  public  examination  in  the 
school,  on  a  day  appointed  for  the  purpose,  which  shall  be  attended 
by  all  the  Trustees,  and  all  in  the  town  who  are  in  any  respect  con- 
nected with  Indian  affairs,  and  some  of  the  neighbouring  ministers, 
and  gentlemen  and  ladies ;  and  also  that  the  chiefs  of  the  Indians 
be  invited  to  attend  ;  at  which  there  shall  be  a  public  trial  of  the 
proficiency,  w^hich  each  one  has  made,  in  the  various  branches 
which  have  been  taught,  as  in  reading,  writing,  spelling,  arithmetic, 
knowledge  in  the  principles  of  religion,  knowledge  of  church  histo- 
ry, etc ;  and  that  a  premium  shall  be  given  to  such  as  are  found  to 
excel,  which  may  be  done  in  something,  that  will  very  much  please 
Indian  children,  with  but  little  expense.  And  likewise,  that  the 
works  of  the  children  be  then  produced,  to  be  judged  of,  that  it 
may  be  determined  wiio  has  made  the  greatest  proficiency  in 
learning  to  sew,  to  spin,  to  knit,  etc ;  and  that  a  rew^ard  be  given  to 
such  as  have  excelled.  And  perhaps,  also,  that  a  reward  be  then 
given  to  such,  as,  by  die  testimony  of  their  teachers  and  governors, 
have  excelled  in  virtue  or  diligence,  in  care  to  speak  the  truth,  in 
strictly  observing  the  sabbath,  in  good  manners,  in  respect  to  their 
superiours,  etc.  And  that,  in  the  day  of  pubKc  trial,  there  be 
somewhat  of  an  entertainment  made  for  the  members  of  the 
school,  and  those  who  are  invited  to  attend.  This  not  only  might 
tend  greatly  to  stimulate  the  children  in  their  learning,  but  would  be 
very  pleasing  and  animating  to  the  tribes  of  Indians,  and  would 
have  great  influence  in  rendering  them  very  favourably  disposed  to 
the  affairs  of  the  schools. 

"  But  your  Excellency  will  easily  see  that,  in  order  to  the  prac- 
ticableness  of  these  things,  in  any  tolerable  degree  and  manner,  it  is 
necessary  that  the  children  should  be  taught  the  English  tongue  ; 
andjindeed  this  is  of  the  most  absolute  necessity,  on  almost  every 
account.  The  Indian  languages  are  extremely  barbarous  and  bar- 
ren, and  very  ill  fitted  for  communicating  things  moral  and  divine, 


480  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

or  even  things  speculative  and  abstract.  In  short,  they  are  wholly 
unfit  for  a  people  possessed  of  civilization,  knowledge  and  re- 
finement. 

"  Besides,  without  their  learning  English,  their  learning  to  read 
will  be  in  vain ;  for  the  Indians  have  not  the  Bible,  nor  any  other 
book,  in  their  own  language.  Without  this,  their  teachers  cannot 
converse  with  them,  and  so  can  have  no  advantage  to  instruct 
them.  Hence,  all  possible  means  must  be  used,  in  the  first  place, 
to  introduce  the  English  tongue  among  the  children.  To  this  end, 
much  pains  should  be  taken  to  teach  them  the  English  name  for 
every  thing,  and  English  words  that  signify  such  and  such  actions ; 
and  an  Interpreter  might  be  used  for  a  while,  to  interpret  their  les- 
sons to  them,  and  to  teach  them  to  construe  them,  or  turn  them  into 
Indian.  And  a  number  of  English  children  might  be  put  into  the 
school  with  the  Indian  children.  But  the  most  effectual  method  of 
all  would  be,  to  put  out  some  of  the  Indian  children,  first,  into  some 
good  English  families,  one  at  a  place,  to  live  there  a  year  or  two, 
before  they  are  brought  into  the  school ;  which  would  not  only  be 
above  all  others  the  most  successful  method,  but  would  be  abso- 
lutely necessary,  at  least  at  first;  but  truly  a  great  deal  of  care 
must  be  taken  to  find  good  places  for  them,  and  to  look  well  to 
them,  and  to  see  that  they  are  well  taken  care  of,  in  the  families  to 
which  they  are  sent.  It  is  probable,  that  the  parents  of  the  child- 
ren might,  with  proper  endeavours,  be  persuaded  to  such  a  mea- 
sure. 

"But  it  will  doubtless  be  very  easily  arid  quickly  determined,  by 
your  Excellency,  that,  if  such  methods,  as  those  which  have  been 
mentioned,  or  any  like  them,  or  indeed  any  other  effectual  mea- 
sures, are  taken,  it  will  be  absolutely  necessary,  that  the  school 
should  be  under  the  constant  care  and  inspection  of  Trustees, 
who  live  upon  the  spot,  or  very  near  at  hand.  It  will  be  in 
vain  for  any  to  expect,  that  any  woman  can  look  after  such  a  school, 
and  provide  for  and  govern  so  large  a  family,  and  take  care  con- 
tinually to  order  and  regulate  so  many  and  great  affairs  pertaining 
to  it,  within  doors  and  without,  without  much  assistance  of  some 
always  at  hand,  who  are  able  and  faithful,  and  are  interested  and 
duly  empowered.  If  she  has  under  her  a  second,  or  a  kind  of 
usher,  and  has  servants  of  both  sexes,  yet  still  she  will  be  under 
the  necessity  of  having  some  superiour  assistance.  And  as  to  the 
precise  method  of  teaching,  and  regulating  the  discipline  of  the 
school  and  family,  it  must  be  left  very  much  to  their  discretion  ; 
for  experience  alone  can  certainly  determine,  the  fittest  methods 
of  ordering  such  an  establishment,  so  new  and  untried,  though  very 
probable  conjectures  may  be  made.  And  experience  will  doubt- 
less direct  to  some  new  measures,  which  cannot  now  be  thought  of. 
Hoping  that  your  Excellency  will  excuse  the  particularity  and  mi- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAftDSJ.  481 

nuteness,  into  which  I  have  unintentionally  been  led,  on  a  subject, 
about  which  I  cannot  but  feel  the  deepest  interest, 
"  I  remain, 

"  With  very  high  respect, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

In  the  package  to  Sir  William,  Mr.  Edwards,  in  consequence  of 
her  own  request,  forwarded  to  Lady  Pepperell,  who  w^as  then  in 
very  deep  affliction,  the  following  letter  ;  which  will  probably  be  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  happiest  specimens  of  christian  sympathy  and 
condolence,  to  be  found  in  epistolary  WTiting. 

"  To  Lady  Pepperell. 

"  Stockbridge,  JVov.  28,  175L 
"  Madam, 

"  When  I  was  at  your  house  in  Kittery,  the  last  spring,  among 
other  instances  of  your  kind  and  condescending  treatment  to  me, 
was  this,  that,  when  I  had  some  conversation  with  Sir  William, 
concerning  Stockbridge  and  the  affairs  of  the  Indians,  and  he  ge- 
nerously offered  me  any  assistance,  in  the  business  of  my  mission 
here,  which  his  acquaintance  and  correspondence  in  London  ena- 
bled him  to  afford  me,  and  proposed  my  writing  to  him  on  our  af- 
fairs ;  you  were  also  pleased  to  in\ite  me  to  write  to  you,  at  the  same 
time.  If  I  should  neglect  to  do  as  you  then  proposed,  I  should  fail 
not  only  of  discharging  my  duty,  but  of  doing  myself  a  great  honour. 
But  as  I  am  well  assured,  even  from  the  small  acquaintance  I  had 
with  you,  that  a  letter  of  mere  compliments  would  not  be  agreeable 
to  a  lady  of  your  disposition  and  feelings,  especially  under  your 
present  melancholy  circumstances ;  so  the  writing  of  such  a  letter 
is  very  far  from  my  intention,  or  inclination. 

"  When  I  saw  the  evidences  of  your  deep  sorrow,  under  the  aw- 
ful frown  of  heaven  m  the  death  of  your  only  son,  it  made  an  im- 
pression on  my  mind  not  easily  forgotten ;  and  when  you  spoke  of 
my  writing  to  you,  I  soon  determined  wiiat  should  be  the  subject  of 
my  letter.  It  was  that,  which  appeared  to  me  to  be  the  most  proper 
subject  of  contemplation,  for  one  in  your  circumstances  5  that,  which 
I  thought,  above  all  others,  would  furnish  you  a  proper  and  sufficient 
source  of  consolation,  under  your  heavy  affliction ;  and  this  was  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ: — particularly  the  amiableness  of  his  character, 
which  renders  him  worthy  that  we  should  love  him,  and  take  him 
for  our  only  pordon,  our  rest,  hope  and  joy  ;  and  his  great  and  un- 
paralleled love  towards  us. — And  I  have  been  of  the  same  mind 
ever  since ;  being  determined,  if  God  favoured  me  with  an  oppor- 
tunity to  write  to  your  Ladyship,  that  those  things  should  be  the 
subject  of  my  letter.  For  what  other  subject  is  so  well  calculated 
to  prove  a  balm  to  the  wounded  spirit. 

Vol.  I.  61 


482  LIFE    OF    PRESiDEJST    EDWARDS. 

"  Let  us  then,  dear  Madam,  contemplate  the  loveliness  of  our 
blessed  Redeemer,  which  entitles  him  to  our  highest  love ;  and, 
when  clearly  seen,  leads  us  to  fmd  a  sweet  complacency  and  satis- 
faction of  soul  in  him,  of  whatever  else  we  are  deprived.  The 
Scriptures  assure  us  that  He,  who  came  into  the  world  in  our  na- 
ture, and  freely  laid  down  his  life  for  us,  was  truly  possessed  of  all 
the  fulness  of  the  Godhead,  of  his  infinite  greatness,  majesty  and 
glory,  his  infinite  wisdom,  purity  and  holiness,  his  infinite  righteous- 
ness' and  goodness.  He  is  called  "  the  brightness  of  God's  glory, 
and  the  express  image  of  his  person."  He  is  the  Image,  the  Ex- 
pression, of  infinite  beauty;  in  the  contemplation  of  which,  God  the 
Father  had  all  his  unspeakable  happiness  from  eternity.  That 
eternal  and  unspeakable  happiness  of  the  Deity  is  represented  as  a 
kind  of  social  happiness,  in  the  society  of  the  persons  of  the  Trinity ; 
Prov.viii.30,  "Then  I  was  by  him  as  one  brought  up  with  him,  I 
was  daily  his  delight  rejoicing  always  before  him."  This  glorious 
Person  came  down  from  heaven  to  be  "  the  Light  of  the  world," 
that  by  him  the  beauty  of  the  Deity  might  shine  forth,  in  the  bright- 
est and  fullest  manner,  to  the  children  of  men. 

"  Infinite  Wisdom  also  has  contrived,  that  we  should  behold  the 
glory  of  the  Deity,  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  to  the  greatest  ad- 
vanta2;e,  in  such  a  manner  as  should  be  best  adapted  to  the  capacity 
of  poor  feeble  man;  m  suclr  a  manner,  too,  as  is  best  fitted  to  engage 
our  attention,  and  allure  our  hearts,  as  well  as  to  inspire  us  with  the 
most  perfect  complacency  and  delight.  For  Christ,  having,  by  his 
incarnation,  come  down  from  his  Infinite  exaltation  above  us,  has  be- 
come one  of  our  kinsmen  and  brothers.  And  his  glory  shining  up- 
on us  through  his  human  nature,  the  manifestation  is  wonderfully 
adapted  to  the  strength  of  the  human  vision ;  so  that,  though  it  ap- 
pears in  all  its  effulgence,  it  is  yet  attempered  to  our  sight.  He  is 
indeed  possessed  of  infinite  majesty,  to  inspire  us  with  reverence  and 
adoration  ;  yet  that  majesty  need  not  terrify  us,  for  we  behold  it  blend- 
ed with  humility,  meekness  and  sweet  condescension.  We  may 
feel  the  most  profound  reverence  and  self-abasement,  and  yet  our 
hearts  be  drawn  forth,  sweetly  and  powerfully,  into  an  infimacy  the 
most  free,  confidenfial  and  delightful.  The  dread,  so  naturally  in- 
spired by  his  greatness,  is  dispelled  by  the  contemplafion  of  his  gen- 
tleness and  humility ;  while  the  familiarity,  which  might  otherwise 
arise  from  the  view  of  the  loveliness  of  his  character  merely,  is  ever 
prevented,  by  the  consciousness  of  his  infinite  majesty  and  glory ; 
and  the  sight  of  all  his  perfections  united  fills  us  with  sweet  surprize, 
and  humble  confidence,  with  reverential  love,  and  delightful  adora- 
tion. 

"  This  glory  of  Christ  is  properly,  and  in  the  highest  sense,  divine. 
He  shines  in  all  the  brightness  of  glory,  that  is  inherent  in  the  Deity. 
Such  is  the  exceeding  brightness  of  this  Sun  of  Righteousness,  that, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDEXT    EDWARDS.  4S;J 

in  comparison  of  it,  the  li2;ht  of  the  Natural  Sun  is  as  darkness ; 
and  hence,  when  he  shall  appear  in  his  glory,  the  brightness  of  the 
Sun  shall  disappear,  as  the  brightness  of  the  little  stars  do,  when 
the  Sun  rises.  So  says  the  prophet  Isaiah,  "  Then  the  Moon  shall 
be  confounded,  and  the  Sun  shall  be  ashamed,  when  the  Lord  of 
Hosts  shall  reign  in  Mount  Zion,  and  before  his  ancients,  gloriously," 
Isa.  xxiv.  23.  But,  although  his  hghtis  thus  bright,  and  his  beams 
go  forth  with  infinite  strength  ;  yet,  as  they  proceed  from  the  Lamb 
of  God,  and  shine  through  his  meek  and  lowly  human  nature,  they 
are  supremely  soft  and  mild,  and,  instead  of  dazzling  and  over- 
powering our  feeble  sight,  like  a  smooth  ointment  or  a  gentle  eye- 
salve,  are  vivifying  and  healing.  Thus  on  them,  who  fear  God's 
name,  "  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  arises,  with  healing  in  his  beams," 
Mai.  iv.  2.  It  is  like  the  light  of  the  morning,  a  morning  without 
clouds,  as  the  dew  on  the  grass,  under  whose  influence  the  souls  of 
his  people  are  as  the  tender  grass  springing  out  of  the  earth,  by  clear 
shining  after  rain.  Thus  are  the  beams  of  his  beauty,  and  bright- 
ness, fitted  for  the  support  and  reviving  of  the  afirlicted.  He  heals 
the  broken  in  spirit,  and  bindeth  up  their  vvounds.  When  the  spi- 
rits of  his  people  are  cut  down  by  the  scythe,  he  coAies  down  upon 
them,  in  a  sweet  and  heavenly  influence,  like  rain  on  the  mown 
grass,  and  like  showers  that  water  the  earth. (Ps.  Ixxii.  6.) 

"  But  especially  are  the  beams  of  Christ's  glory  infinitely  soften- 
ed, and  sweetened, by  his  love  to  men,  the  love  that  passeth  know- 
ledge. The  glory  of  his  person  consists,  pre-eminently,  in  that 
infinite  goodness  and  grace,  of  which  he  made  so  wonderful  a  man- 
ifestation, in  his  love  to  us.  The  apostle  John  tells  us,  that  God  is 
Light ;  (1  John,  i.  5.)  and  again,  that  God  is  Love  ;  (1  John,  iv.  8.) 
and  the  light  of  his  glory  is  an  infinitely  sweet  light,  because  it  is 
the  light  of  love.  But  especially  does  it  appear  so,  in  the  person 
of  our  Redeemer,  w^io  w^as  infinitely  the  most  wonderful  example 
of  love,  that  was  ever  witnessed.  All  the  perfections  of  the  Deity 
have  their  highest  manifestation  in  the  Work  of  Redemption,  vastly 
more  than  in  the  Work  of  Creation.  In  other  works,  we  see  him 
indirectly ;  but  here,  we  see  the  immediate  glory  of  his  face.  (2 
Cor.  iii.  18.)  In  his  other  works,  we  behold  him  at  a  distance; 
but  in  this,  we  come  near,  and  behold  the  infinite  treasures  of  his 
heart.  (Eph.  iii.  8,  9,  10.)  It  is  a  work  of  love  to  us,  and  a  work 
of  which  Christ  is  the  author.  His  lovehness,  and  his  love,  have 
both  their  greatest  and  most  affecting  manifestation  in  those  suffer- 
ings, which  he  endured  for  us  at  his  death.  Therein,  above  all, 
appeared  his  holiness,  his  love  to  God,  and  his  hatred  of  sii^,  in  that, 
w^hen  he  desired  to  save  sinners,  rather  than  that  a  sensible  testimo- 
ny should  not  be  seen  against  sin,  and  the  justice  of  God  be  vindi- 
cated, he  chose  to  become  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death  of 
the  cross.  Thus,  in  the  same  act,  he  manifests,  in  the  highest  con- 
ceivable degree,  his  infinite  hatred  of  sin,  and  his  infinite  love  to 


484  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

sinners.  His  holiness  appeared  like  a  fire,  burning  with  infinite 
vehemence  against  sin ;  at  the  same  time,  that  his  love  to  sinners 
appeared  like  a  sweet  flame,  burning  with  an  infinite  fervency  of 
benevolence.  It  is  the  glory  and  beauty  of  his  love  to  us,  polluted 
sinners,  that  it  is  an  infinitely  pure  love ;  and  it  is  the  peculiar 
sweetness  and  endearment  of  his  holiness,  that  it  has  its  most  glo- 
rious manifestation  in  such  an  act  of  love  to  us.  All  the  excellen- 
cies of  Christ,  both  divine  and  human,  have  their  highest  manifes- 
tation, in  this  wonderful  act  of  his  love  to  men — his  offering  up  him- 
self a  sacrifice  for  us,  under  these  extreme  sufferings.  Herein 
have  abounded  toward  us  the  riches  of  his  grace,  in  all  wisdom  and 
prudence.  (Eph.  i.  8.)  Herein  appears  his  perfect  justice.  Herein 
too,  was  the  great  display  of  his  humility,  in  being  willing  to  de- 
scend so  low  for  us.  In  his  last  sufferings,  appeared  his  obedience 
to  God,  his  submission  to  his  disposing  will,  his  patience,  and  his 
meekness,  when  he  went  as  a  lamb  to  the  slaughter,  and  opened 
not  his  mouth,  but  in  a  prayer  that  God  would  forgive  his  crucifiers. 
And  how  affecting  this  manifestation  of  his  excellency  and  amia- 
bleness  to  our  minds,  when  it  chiefly  shines  forth  in  such  an  act  of 
love  to  us. 

"  The  love  of  Christ  to  men,  in  another  way,  sweetens  and  en- 
dears all  his  excellencies  and  \artues ;  as  it  has  brought  him  into 
so  near  a  relation  to  us,  as  our  Friend,  our  elder  Brother,  and  our 
Redeemer;  and  has  brought  us  into  so  strict  an  union  with  him, 
that  we  are  his  friends,  y^ea,  members  of  his  body,  of  his  flesh,  and 
of  his  bones.   (Eph.  v.  30.) 

*'  We  see  then,  dear  Madam,  how  rich  and  how  adequate  is  the 
provision,  wdiich  God  has  made  for  our  consolation,  in  all  our  af- 
flictions, in  giving  us  a  Redeemer  of  such  glory,  and  such  love  ;  es- 
pecially, when  it  is  considered,  what  were  the  ends  of  this  great 
manifestation  of  beauty  and  love,  in  his  death.  He  suffered,  that 
we  might  be  delivered.  His  soul  was  exceeding  sorrowful,  even 
unto  death,  to  take  aw^ay  the  sting  of  sorrow,  and  to  impart  ever- 
lasting consolation.  He  was  oppressed  and  afflicted,  that  we  might 
be  supported.  He  was  overwhelmed  in  the  darkness  of  death, 
that  we  might  have  the  light  of  life.  He  was  cast  into  the  furnace 
of  God's  wrath,  that  w^e  might  drink  of  the  rivers  of  his  pleasures. 
His  soul  was  overwhelmed  with  a  flood  of  sorrow,  that  our  hearts 
might  be  overwhelmed  with  a  flood  of  eternal  joy. 

"  We  may  also  well  remember,  in  what  circumstances  our  Re- 
deemer now  is.  He  was  dead  ;  but  he  is  alive,  and  he  lives  forev- 
er more.  Death  may  deprive  us  of  our  friends  here,  but  it  cannot 
deprive  us  of  this  our  best  friend.  We  have  this  best  of  friends, 
this  mighty  Redeemer,  to  go  to,  in  all  our  afflictions  ;  and  he  is  not 
one,  who  cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities.  He 
has  suffered  far  greater  sorrows,  than  we  have  ever  suffered ;  and 
if  we  are  actually  united  to  him,  the  union  can  never  be  broken, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  485 

but  will  continue  when  we  die,  and  when  heaven  and  earth  are 
dissolved.  Therefore,  in  this,  we  may  be  confident,  though  the 
earth  be  removed,  in  him  we  shall  triumph  with  everlasting  joy. 
Now,  when  storms  and  tempests  arise,  w^e  may  resort  to  him,  who 
is  a  hiding  place  from  tlie  storm,  and  a  covert  from  the  tempest. 
When  we  thirst,  we  may  come  to  him,  who  is  as  rivers  of  water  in 
a  dry  place.  When  we  are  weary,  we  may  go  to  him,  who  is  as 
the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land.  Having  found  him, 
who  is  as  the  apple-tree  among  the  trees  of  the  wood,  we  may  sit 
under  his  shadow  with  great  delight,  and  his  fruit  will  be  sweet  to 
our  taste.  Christ  said  to  his  disciples,  "In  the  world  ye  shall  have 
tribulation  ;  but  in  me  ye  shall  have  peace."  If  we  are  united  to 
him,  w^e  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted  by  the  waters,  and  that  spread- 
eth  out  its  roots  by  the  river,  that  shall  not  see  when  heat  cometh, 
but  its  leaf  shall  ever  be  green,  and  it  shall  not  be  careful  in  the 
year  of  drought,  neither  shall  it  cease  from  yielding  fruit.  He  will 
now  be  our  Mght  in  darkness ;  our  morning-star,  shining  as  the 
sure  harbinger  of  approaching  day.  In  a  little  time,  he  will  arise 
on  our  souls,  as  the  Sun  in  his  glory ;  and  our  Sun  shall  no  more  go 
down,  and  there  shall  be  no  interposing  cloud — no  veil  on  his  face, 
or  on  our  hearts ;  but  the  Lord  shall  be  our  everlasting  light,  and 
our  Redeemer  our  glory. 

"  That  this  glorious  Redeemer  would  manifest  his  glory  and  love 
to  your  mind,  and  apply  what  litde  I  have  said  on  this  subject,  to 
your  consolation,  in  all  your  afflictions,  and  abundantly  reward  your 
kindness  and  generosity  to  me,  while  I  was  at  Kittery ;  is  the  fer- 
vent prayer,  Madam,  of 

"  Your  Ladyship's  most  obliged 
"  and  affectionate  friend, 
"  and  most  humble  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  repeated  afflictions  of  a  widowed  sister,  in  tlie  beginning  of 
the  next  year,  occasioned  the  following  letter  to  his  father,  con- 
taining some  allusions  to  the  state  and  circumstances  of  his  own 
family. 

"  To  the  Reverend  Timothy  Edwards,  East  Windsor. 

"  Stockbridge,  Jan,  27,  1752. 
"  Honoured  Sir, 

"  We  have  lately  heard  the  sorrowful  tidings  of  die  death  of  two 
of  Sister  Backus'*  children,  as  we  are  informed  bodi    at  your 

*  Mrs.  Backus  the  fifth  sister  of  Mr.  Edwards  was  now  a  widow.  Her  In.s- 
band,  the  Rev.  Simon  Backus  of  Newington,  (Wethersfield,)  was  designated 
by  the  Connecticut  Legislature,  a?  chaplain  to  the  troops  sent  to  Louishurt^h  in 


48G  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS; 

liouse ;  which  is  the  occasion  of  Cousin  Eunice  returning  from 
Stockbridge  at  this  time ;  she  having  a  desire  to  see  her  mother 
and  surviving  sisters  at  Windsor,  on  this  melancholy  occasion.  We 
are  much  affected  with  sister's  great  and  heavy  aulictions,  and  la- 
ment the  death  of  two  such  likely  promising  children,  in  their  early 
youth.  It  is  my  earnest  desire,  that  it  may  be  sanctified  to  us  of 
this  family.  I  desire  your  prayers,  that  it  may  be  so  ;  particularly 
to  those  that  are  young  in  the  family ;  that  they  may  be  awakened 
by  it  to  diligent  preparation  for  death  ;  and  that  we  ail  may  take 
notice  of  our  distinguished  mercies,  with  a  becoming  thankfulness 
to  God.  I  look  upon  it  as  a  great  favour  of  Heaven,  that  you,  my 
Parents,  are  still  preserved  in  the  land  of  the  living,  to  so  great  an 
age.  I  hope,  by  the  leave  of  Divine  Providence,  to  make  you  and 
sister '  Backus  a  visit  in  the  spring.  We  are,  through  mercy,  in 
our  ordinary  state  of  health,  except  that  little  Betty  don't  seem  of 
late  to  be  so  well,  as  she  was  in  the  summer.  If  she  liv^es  till  spring, 
I  believe  we  must  be  obliged  to  come  again  to  the  use  of  the  cold 
bath  with  her.  i\Iy  wife  and  children  are  well  pleased  with  our 
present  situation.  They  like  the  place  far  better  than  they  expect- 
ed. Here,  at  present,  we  live  in  peace ;  which  has  of  long  time 
been  an  unusual  thing  with  us.  The  Indians  seem  much  pleased 
with  my  family,  especially  my  wife.  They  are  generally  more 
sober  and  serious  than  they  used  to  be.  Beside  the  Stockbridge 
Indians,  here  are  above  sixty  of  the  Six  Nations,  who  live  here  for 
the  sake  of  instruction.  Twenty  are  lately  come  to  dwell  here, 
who  came  from  about  two  hundred  miles  beyond  Albany.  We 
expect  our  son  and  daughter  Parsons  will  remove  hither  in  a  short 
time.     Many  of  their  goods  are  already  brought  up." 

[After  alluding  to  the  indigent  circumstances  of  his  sister  Mrs. 
Backus,  and  her  family,  and  mentioning  that  himself  and  Mrs.  Ed- 
wards had  done  every  thing  for  his  niece,  which  was  in  their  power, 
he  proceeds.] 

"  I  hope  some  of  her  friends  will  be  kind  to  her  in  this  respect. 
There  are  perhaps  none  of  her  uncles,  but  are  much  better  able  to 
help  her,  than  I  am  at  this  dme ;  who,  by  reason  of  lately  marrying 
two  children,  and  the  charge  of  buying,  building  and  removing,  am, 
I  suppose,   about  £2000  in  debt,  in  this  Province   money.*     I 


1746,  to  prevent  its  recapture  by  the  French.  He  died  there  soon  after  his 
arrival.  The  vessel,  containing  his  effects,  and  a  considerable  sum  contributed 
by  the  gentlemen  of  the  army  for  his  family,  was  cast  away  on  its  return;  aud 
the  family  were  left  in  very  indigent  circumstances. 

*  I  suppose  that  this  means  £2000  old  tenor^  as  it  was  then  called  ;  the  value 
of  which  continually  varied,  but  has  been  commonly  estimated  at  6s.  Sd.  ster- 
I'lng  to  the  pound. 


LiFKOF    FRI^SIUENT    t^DWAKDS.  487 

should  be  glad  if  sister  Mary  would  suggest  it  to  brother  Ellsworth 
to  do  something  for  her.  if  she  don't  care  to  do  it  in  her  own 
name,  let  her  do  it  in  mine,  as  doing  the  errand  from  me.  Please 
to  give  my  duty  to  my  mother,  and  my  love  to  sister  Mary.  My 
wife  is  at  this  moment  from  home.  My  children  give  their  duty  to 
their  Grandparents,  and  aunts,  and  love  and  affectionate  condolence 
to  their  mournful  surviving  cousins. 
"  I  am,  honoured  Sir, 

^'  Your  dutiful  son, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  allusion  to  his  pecuniary  circumstances,  made  by  Mr.  Ed- 
wards in  the  preceding  letter,  requires  explanation.  What  was  the 
actual  amount  of  his  salary  at  Northampton,  I  have  not  been  able 
to  ascertain ;  but  he  speaks  of  it,  in  one  of  his  letters,  as  "  the 
largest  salary  of  any  country  minister  in  New-England."  Soon 
after  his  settlement  there,  he  purchased  a  valuable  homestead,  with 
the  requisite  lands  for  pasturage  and  fuel,  and  erected  a  commodi- 
ous dwelling-house.  These,  by  the  strictest  economy,  had  all 
been  paid  for,  before  his  dismission.  It  w^as  several  years,  however, 
after  his  removal  to  Stockbridge,  before  he  could  sell  his  property 
at  Northampton.  In  the  mean  time,  he  was  under  the  necessity  of 
purchasing  another  homestead,  and  of  erecting  another  dwelling- 
house  at  Stockbridge.  The  debt  thus  incurred,  added  to  the  ex- 
pense of  removing  his  family,  subjected  them  for  a  time  to  very  se- 
rious pecuniary  embarrassments  and  his  daughters,  who  had  recei- 
ved not  only  an  enhghtened,  but  a  polished,  education,  readily  lent 
their  aid,  to  relieve  the  family  from  the  existing  pressure.  For  this 
purpose,  they  occupied  their  leisure  in  making  lace  and  embroidering, 
in  tambouring  and  other  ornamental  work,  and  in  making  and 
painting  fans :  all  of  which,  in  the  existing  state  of  the  country, 
found  a  ready  market  at  Boston.*  At  length,  the  sale  of  his  pro- 
perty in  Northampton  relieved  him  from  debt,  and  placed  his  fami- 
ly in  more  pleasant  circumstances. 

On  the  5th  of  February,  O.  S.  Mr.  Gideon  Hawley,  a  young 
gentleman  of  a  liberal  education,  and  of  great  prudence,  firm- 
ness and  integrity,  arrived  in  Stockbridge.  He  had  been  ap- 
pointed, by  the  Commissioners,  the  school-master  of  the  Mohawk 
and  other  Iroquois  children,  and  entered  immediately  on  the  duties 
of  his  office.  He  was  ordained  as  a  minister  and  missionary,  July 
31,  1754,  N.  S.     Mr.  Edwards  found  him  a  most  faithful  and  use- 


*  So  severe  was  this  pressure,  for  a  considerable  time,  that  Mr.  Edwards 
found  himself  necessitated  to  practice  the  most  rigid  economy,  in  every  thing — 
even  in  the  article  of  paper.  Much  of  what  he  now  wrote,  for  his  own  use, 
was  written  on  the  margins  of  useless  pamphlets,  the  covers  of  letters,  and  the 
remnants  of  the  silk  paper  vised  in  making  fans. 


488  *         LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ful  coadjutor.     He  also  occasionally  preached  to  the  Iroquois,  as 
did  Mr.  "Edwards  once  every  Sabbath. 

Soon  after  the  removal  of  Mr.  Edwards  to  Stockbridge,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  misunderstandings  and  jealousies,  subsisting  be- 
tween some  of  the  principal  English  inhabitants  of  the  town,  and 
the  confusion  in  which  he   saw  the  Indian  affairs  involved^  he  was 
led,   in  a  letter  to  the  Hon.  Mr.  Hubbard  of  Aug.  31,    1751,  to 
recommend  the  appointment  of  two  or  more  Trustees,  "  men  per- 
fectly impartial,  no  way  interested  in,  related  to,  or  engaged  witli, 
the  contending  parties."     The  absolute  necessity  of  this  step,  to  the 
welfare  of  the  mission,  and  of  the  Indian  schools,  soon  became  ap- 
parent.*    In  consequence  of  the  increasing  importance  of  the  In- 
dian establishment  at  Stockbridge,   and  the  increasing  attention  of 
the  public  to  the  Mission  and  the  Schools  ;  the  benefactions  of  the 
Legislature  and  of  individuals,  were  increasing,  and   still  likely 
to  increase.     By  the  augmented  numbers  of  the  Housatonnucks, 
and  the  accession  of  a  Mohawk  colony,  it  had  become  the  princi- 
pal mission  of  the  Society  for  propagating  tlie  Gospel  in  New  Eng- 
land, and  appeared  destined  to  receive  the  chief  amount  of  its  re- 
venue; Mr.  Hollis  had  increased  his  annual  stipend  to  £160,  stg. ; 
Mr.  Paine  was  proposing  to  support  a  female  boarding  school ;  the 
Legislature  of  the  Province  had  just  voted  £500,  provincial  cur- 
rency, for  the  school-house,  and  would  probably  aid  in  the  support 
of  the  mistress;  an  adequate  support  was  now  given  to  the  instruc- 
tor of  the  Housatonnuck  school ;  an  annual  stipend  was  given  to 
the  Housatonnucks,  to  be  expended  at  Stockbridge  for  their  be- 
nefit ;  a  similar  stipend  was  to  be  paid  for  the  Mohawks,  if  they  re- 
moved in  considerable  numbers  to  Stockbridge  ;  a  school,  to  be 
supported  by  the  colony,  for  the   education  of  their  children,  was 
not  only  pledged,  but  actually  begun  ;  and  hopes  were  indulged  tliat 
die  yearly  stipend  of  £500,  stg.  granted  by  the  King,  to  the  Mohawks, 
might  be  expended  under  the   direction  of  an  agent,    residing  at 
Stockbridge,  and  not  as  before  at  Albany.     It  needed  no  great  dis- 
cernment to  discover,  that  the  amount  of  these  numerous  items  must 
be  great ;  and  the  bare  possibility  of  engrossing  the  agency,  through 
which  this  large  aggregate  must  pass,  and  of  turning  it  into  a  source 
of  great  private  emolument,  might  easily  excite  the  strong  cupidity 
of  individuals,  and  lead  them  to  resort  to  every  measure  in  their 
power,    to    secure   that   emolument   to   themselves.       The    op- 
ponent  of  Mr.  Woodbridge,  (whose  influence   in  the  town,  and 
with  the  Indians,  had  been  long  chiefly  extinct,)  in  consequence 
of  the  strong  recommendation,  given  of  him,  by  his  nephew,  while 


"^  A  representation  having  been  made  to  the  Legislature,  in  pursuance  <»f 
this  reconunendation,  three  Trustees  or  coninii^ibioncrs  were  appointed  in  behalf 
of  the  Province. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  4.S9 

in  L#ondon,  to  the  Directors  of  the  Society  lor  propagating  the 
Gospel  in  New  England,  had  been  appointed  one  of  the  Board  of 
Commissioners  of  that  Society  ;  as  had  the  nephew  himself,  an- 
other of  the  same  Board;  one  of  his  family  through  the  same  recom- 
mendation, had  been  conditionally  nominated  as  the  teacher  of  the 
female  school  ;*  one  of  the  Trustees  of  the  Indian  establishment 
was  about  to  connect  himself  with  the  family  ;  and,  if  the  nomi- 
nadon  should  be  confirmed,  it  was  his  intendon  to  remove  to 
Stockbridge,  in  order  to  take  a  superintendence  of  Indian  af- 
fairs, which,  in  the  absence  of  his  colleagues,  would  be  sole 
and  exclusive.  So  fair  was  the  prospect  at  this  time,  in  the 
view  of  these  individuals,  of  engrossing  the  profit  and  the  di- 
rection of  the  whole  establishment  in  their  own  hands,  that  they 
threw  off  their  wonted  caution,  and  made  known  their  purpose  of 
removing  every  obstacle  in  the  w^ay  of  their  designs. 

Mr.  Edwards  well  knew,  that  the  influence  of  these  individuals 
was  most  formidable:  two  of  them  being  now  members  of 
the  Board  of  Commissioners,  on  which,  as  Indian  missionary,  he 
was  dependent;  one  of  them^eing  one  of  the  Trustees  for  the  In- 
dians at  Stockbridge  ;  one  of  them  being  personally  acquainted  with 
the  Directors  in  London ;  and  two  of  them  having  considerable  in- 
fluence with  the  principal  men  in  the  Provincial  government.  Yet 
he  saw,  just  as  clearly,  that,  if  their  plans  succeeded,  the  funds  ap- 
propriated to  the  literary  and  moral  improvement  of  the  Indians, 
would  be  perverted  to  the  purpose  of  individual  aggrandizement. 
In  such  a  state  of  things,  he  was  not  at  a  loss,  as  to  his  own  duty. 
The  question,  w^hether  the  individual  nominated  by  the  Board  of 
Directors  in  London,  as  the  teacher  of  the  female  school,  should  be  ap- 
pointed, having  been  thus  submitted,  for  final  decision,  to  the  Board 
of  Commissioners  in  Boston ;  their  Secretary  wrote  to  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, for  an  explicit  statement  of  the  facts  relating  to  the  subject. 
Thus  called  upon,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  present  the  whole  case,  in 
a  reply  to  the  Secretary,  bearing  date  Feb.  18,  1752. 

In  this  letter,  after  stating  it  to  be  absolutely  necessary,  that  his 
correspondent  should  be  let  into  some  of  the  secrets  of  the  affairs  of 
Stockbridge,  and  after  alluding  to  his  having,  on  account  of  the 
controversy  there  subsisting,  recommended,  formerly,  the  ap- 
pointment of  "  two  or  more  impartial  Trustees,  no  way  interested 
in,  or  related  to,  the  contending  parfies,"  to  inspect  those  affairs  ; 
he  states,  among  other  things,  the  following  particulars  :-- -When  he  re- 
commended the  appointment  of  these  trustees,  he  little  suspected, 
that  one  of  them  would  prove  the  farthest  of  any  person  whatever, 
from  possessing  the  indispensable  qualification  of  impartiality^  in 


'*  That  is,  provided  the  Commissioners,  in  Boston,  approved  of  the  appoint, 
ment. 

Vol.  I.  62 


490  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EUW4RDS. 

consequence  of  his  being  about  to  become  the  son-in-law  of  one  of 
the  contending  parties. — The  preceding  year,  a  very  ibrmal  pacifi- 
cation took  place,  between  Mr.  Woodbridge  and  his  opponent,  with 
solemn  promises  made  by  the  latter,  that  he  would  thenceforward 
live  peacefully  with  Mr.  VV.,  and  no  more  speak  ill  of  him,  nor  in 
any  wise  molest  him.  But  the  proposed  alliance,  the  nomination 
of  one  of  his  family  as  teacher  of  the  female  school,  and  the  aj)- 
pointment  of  himself  and  his  nephew  to  the  Board  of  Commission- 
ers, had  so  elated  him,  that  those  promises  appeared  to  be  wholly 
forgotten.  A  sudden  and  strange  alteration  had  also  appeared, 
in  the  temper  and  conduct  of  his  intended  son-in-law,  who, 
in  the  absence  of  his  colleagues,  claimed  the  sole  management 
of  all  Indian  affairs,  so  that  nothing  was  done,  but  he  was 
the  doer  of  it. — The  Indians  had  a  most  unfavourable  opinion 
of  the  opponent  of  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  the  deepest  prejudice 
against  him,  in  consequence  of  his  having  often  molested  them, 
with  respect  to  their  lands,  and  other  affairs,  and,  as  they  thought, 
having  done  very  unjustly  by  them.  This  prejudice  was  extended 
to  the  family ;  and  that  to  such  a  degree,  that,  after  offering  to 
feed  and  clothe  such  of  their  children,  as  should  be  sent  to  the 
school,  attempted  to  be  established,  only  four  could  be  procured, 
three  Housatonnucks  and  one  Mohawk ;  and  the  parents  of  these 
four  complained  loudly  of  the  treatment  of  their  children.  Whe- 
ther this  prejudice  was  well  or  ill  founded,  it  was  too  deep  to  be 
eradicated. — Very  improper  use  had  been  made  of  the  money  given 
by  Mr.  HoUis.  He  had  made  large  remittances,  and  to  no  good 
purpose  ;  and  was  kept  in  entire  ignorance,  as  to  the  actual  state  of 
things  at  Stockbridge.  The  individual  who  received  his  money, 
and  boarded,  and  professed  to  instruct,  the  children,  had  never  es- 
tablished a  regular  school,  and  had  never  kept  any  regular  accounts 
of  his  expenditures.  No  government  was  maintained,  litde  atten- 
tion paid  to  the  manners  of  the  children,  and  all  was  suffered  to  go 
on  in  wildness,  filth  and  confusion,  to  the  great  offence  of  such  as 
visited  the  place.  The  generous  design  of  Mr.  Hollis  had  been 
totally  defeated,  and  the  large  sums  of  money  he  had  given,  had 
been  wholly  lost,  and  worse  than  lost.  The  same  boys,  without 
this  additional  expense,  would  have  been  far  better  instructed,  and 
governed,  at  the  school  of  Mr.  Woodbridge.  There,  they  would 
have  been  taught  reading,  cleanliness,  good  manners,  and  good  mo- 
rals ;  all  of  which  had  been  wholly  neglected,  on  the  part  of  their 
professed  instructer,  who  had  himself  been  absent  from  Stockbridge, 
for  a  long  period. — This  irregularity,  and  disorderly  management, 
led  the  Mohawks  to  take  all  their  children  away  from  him,  after 
the  arri\'al  of  Mr.  Hawley,  and  to  place  them  under  the  care  of 
the  latter.  Yet  the  former,  wishing  some  pretext  for  drawing  the 
money  of  Mr.  Hollis,  and  not  being  able  to  procure  any  of  the  Indian 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  491 

boys  to  form  a  scliool,  went  regularly  into  the  school  kept  by  Mr.  Haw- 
ley,  and  proceeded  to  treat  the  boys,  as  if  they  were  under  his  own 
care  ;  alleging,  that  he  was  the  superintendent  of  the  male  school. — 
No  one  had  been  more  open  and  abundant,  in  speaking  of  his  use- 
lessness,  his  exceeding  unfitness  for  the  business  of  an  instructer, 
and  the  disorder  and  filthiness  in  which  things  were  kept  under  his 
care,  or  in  declaring,  that  it  was  high  time  that  he  was  dismissed 
from  the  employment,  than  the  resident  trustee ;  but,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  new  connection,  he  had  suddenly  changed  his  mind, 
and  now  declared,  that  he  must  be  retained. — A  similar  change 
had  taken  place,  in  his  treatment  of  JMr.  Edwards.  For  many 
years,  he  had  constantly  professed  the  highest  respect  for  him,  far 
beyond  what  the  latter  could,  with  any  modesty,  expect.  He  had 
often  expressed  a  higher  esteem  of  him,  than  of  any  minister  in 
New-England,  as  well  as  a  very  strong  desire  of  living  under  his 
ministry.  Yet,  although  Mr.  Edwards  had  never  had  a  word  of 
difference  with  him,  or  his  new  connections,  his  whole  conduct  was 
suddenly  and  entirely  changed,  and  he  had  sided  with  them,  in  all 
their  measures  of  opposition  and  violence. 

Very  singular  management  had  been  used,  with  respect  to  Mr. 
Hawley.  Before  his  arrival,  dark  representations  were  carried  to 
him, — misrepresentations  of  the  actual  state  of  things  at  Stockbridge, 
— to  discourage  him  from  accepting  his  appointment.  Soon  after 
his  arrival,  it  was  openly  given  out,  that  he  would  soon  be  removed. 
Had  it  not  been  for  his  firmness,  prudence,  and  steadiness  of  tem- 
per, he  would  have  been  laid  under  great  and  permanent  disadvan- 
tages. The  resident  trustee  had  w^arned  him  not  to  depend  on 
Mr.  Edwards,  and  challenged  to  himself  the  whole  authority  of  di- 
recting the  school,  and  the  affairs  of  the  Indians. — When  the  So- 
ciety in  London  recommended  the  proposed  teacher  of  the  female 
school,  they  could  not  have  been  aware,  that  her  nearest  kinsmen 
were  to  be  the  committee  to  examine  her  accounts.  But  the  ac- 
tual state  of  things  was  soon  to  be  still  more  preposterous.  She 
being  the  mistress,  her  nearest  relatives  were  to  be  her  council,  and 
her  husband  the  sole  committee  to  examine  her  accounts,  and 
make  report  to  the  Legislature. 

Mr.  Edwards  then  adds,  "  I  vwite  these  things,  honoured  Sir, 
because  I  am  satisfied  you  have  not  heretofore  been  enlightened, 
in  the  true  state  of  things,  as  you  ought  to  have  been.  It  was  my 
knowledge  of  some  of  these  matters,  though  but  little  in  compari- 
son, which  occasioned  me,  when  last  in  Boston,  so  earnestly  to 
press  the  Commissioners  frequently  to  visit  this  place.  I  have  been 
blow  to  speak.  My  disposition  has  been,  entirely  to  suppress  what 
I  knew,  that  would  be  to  the  disadvantage  of  any  of  the  people 
here.  But  I  dare  not  hold  my  peace  any  longer.  You  doubdess 
will  own.  Sir,  that  it  is  but  doing  you  justice,  for  somebody  or  other 


492  Ll^'E    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

to  let  you  know  the  true  state  of  things,  in  a  matter  of  such  vast  im- 
portance, which  is  under  your  care,  and  which  you,  being  at  so 
great  a  distance,  never  can  know,  but  by  the  information  of  some 
that  live  here  ;  and  I  know  of  no  one,  from  whom  you  can  more 
reasonably  expect  it,  than  from  the  missionary  you  have  sent  here, 
to  have  the  special  care  of  the  interests  of  religion  among  the  In- 
dians. I  did  not  intend  to  interfere  with  the  affair  of  the  teacher 
of  the  female  school,  or  to  say  any  thing  that  should  tend  to  hinder 
it ;  and  therefore  avoided  every  thing  of  that  nature,  in  my  letter 
to  Sir  William  Pepperell.  But,  being  now  questioned  again  by  the 
honourable  Commissioners,  and  the  tendency  of  the  measure  more 
and  more  appearing,  I  thought  that  tliis  was  the  time,  when  God 
called  on  me  to  speak,  and  that,  if  I  should  hold  my  peace  now, 
I  should,  perhaps,  lay  a  foundation  for  great  uneasiness  to  my  con- 
science, all  my  life  after ;  when  I  might  deeply  lament  the  contin- 
ued consequences  of  my  silence,  and  when  it  would  be  too  late 
to  speak." 

The  next  day,  Mr.  Edwards  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Commis- 
sioners in  Boston,  in  which,  afer  announcing  the  arrival  of  Mr.  Haw- 
ley,  and  the  high  gratification  of  the  Mohawks,  at  the  establishment 
of  a  regular  school  for  their  boys,  he  states  the  number  of  his  scholars 
to  be,  at  that  time,  thirty-six,  mentions  his  happy  qualifications  as 
an  instructer,  and,  in  compliance  with  their  request,  gives,  veiy 
summarily,  his  own  views,  respecting  a  proper  teacher  for  the  fe- 
male boarding-school. 

During  the  spring  of  1752,  the  state  of  affairs  in  Stockbridge, 
instead  of  improving,  only  grew  worse.  The  interference  of  the 
former  school-master  with  the  school  of  Mr.  Hawley,  produced  so 
much  confusion,  that,  in  the  latter  part  of  April,  one  half  of  the 
Mohawks  left  Stockbridge,  in  utter  disgust  with  him  and  his 
friends,  and  fully  resolved  never  to  return.  A  few  days  after  their 
departure,  an  intimate  friend  of  the  former  school-master  and 
his  associates,  visiting  the  male  Mohawk  school,  under  the  care 
of  Mr.  Hawley,  struck  a  child  of  the  chief  Sachem  of  the  Onoh- 
quaugas  on  the  head,  with  his  cane,  without  any  manner  of 
provocation.  The  mother  of  this  child  was  a  woman  of  remarkable 
piety.  This  unhappy  occurrence  excited  the  universal  indignation 
of  the  remaining  Iroquois  ;  and  they  appeared  resolved,  all  of  them, 
to  pack  up  their  effects  immediately,  and  be  gone.  Mr.  Hawley 
and  the  interpreter,  finding  it  impossible  to  calm  them,  came  to 
Mr.  Edwards  for  advice  ;  but  he,  having  been  often  blamed  for  in- 
terfering with  the  affairs  of  the  Iroquois,  and  told  that,  in  doing  so, 
he  meddled  with  that  which  was  none  of  his  business,  referred  them 
to  the  resident  trustee  ;  advising  them  to  represent  the  whole  affair 
to   him,    that  he    might  use  proper  means   to   prevent   the    fatal 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  40^ 

consequences,  which  were  feared.  Their  doing  so  was,  how- 
ever, regarded  as  the  result  of  a  disposition  to  find  fault  with  him, 
and  his  friends.  The  chiefs  of  the  Onohquaugas,  finding  no 
redress,  went  to  Mr.  Edwards  to  make  their  complaint  for  this 
violent  assault.  There  they  found  the  aggressor ;  who,  in  order  to  pa- 
cify them,  was  persuaded  to  pay  them  a  sum  of  money.  The  resi- 
dent trustee,  angry  at  what  had  occurred,  went  to  the  boarding 
school,  and  proceeded  to  abuse  Mr.  Hawley  in  the  presence  of  the 
whole  school,  in  a  very  fer\dd  manner ;  telling  him  that  he  was  a 
man  of  no  judgment,  and  of  no  prudence, and  that  he  was  unfit  for 
the  business  he  was  in  ;  and  continued  this  abuse  for  three  hours  to- 
gether. As  his  conversation  was  very  loud,  the  Iroquois  heard  it, 
and  came  to  the  spot,  expressing  their  fears  for  the  personal  safety 
of  Mr.  Hawley,  to  w^hom  they  had  become  much  attached.  Ap- 
prehending that,  in  consequence  of  this  \^olence,  he  might  be  in- 
duced to  leave  Stockbridge,  they  declared,  in  a  body,  that,  if  he 
went  away,  they  would  go  also.  By  these  occurrences,  the  In- 
dians were  as  effectually  ahenated  from  the  resident  trustee,  as  they 
had  pre\iously  been  from  his  new  friends. 

In  consequeuce  of  these  unhappy  measures,  and  of  a  settled  de- 
termination, on  his  part,  to  take,  in  the  absence  of  his  colleagues, 
the  whole  management  of  Indian  affairs  on  himself;  they  also  were 
disgusted.  One  of  them  relinquished  all  connection  with  the  busi- 
ness, and  ceased  to  visit  Stockbridge  altogether.  The  other  openly 
announced  his  entire  discouragement,  and  declared  that  he  would 
do  his  utmost  to  induce  the  government  to  withdraw  their  support 
from  the  estabhshment  of  the  Iroquois.  This  led  to  an  attempt  to 
procure  the  dismission  of  the  latter,  and  the  appointment  of  a  con- 
nection of  the  resident  trustee  ;  which  however  proved  unsuccess- 
ful. At  the  same  time,  it  was  publicly  and  repeatedly  announced, 
that  Mr.  Edwards  himself  would  be  removed  from  his  mission  ;  and, 
as  soon  after  appeared,  a  vigourous  attempt  w^as  actually  made  to 
accomplish  this  object.^ 

Having  stated  these  facts,  in  a  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Com- 
missioners, of  May,  1752,  Mr.  Edwards  proceeds, — "  But  still  I 
think  there  is  no  necessity  of  the  Iroquois  establishment  being  bro- 
ken up,  unless  its  enemies  are  resolved  to  have  it  so.  The  de- 
pendence   of    the  establishment,    as    to   continuance    and   pros- 

*With  reluctance  I  have  yielded  to  the  necessity  of  this  minuteness  of  detail; 
but  the  fact,  that  Mr.  Edwards  had  no  very  marked  success  in  his  Stockbridge 
mission,  cannot  otherwise  be  adequately  explained  ;  and  the  failure  of  the  Iro- 
quois establishment  at  Stockbridge  cannot  otherwise  be  accounted  for.  Unhap- 
pily the  Indians  at  that  place,  like  all  other  Indians  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
whites,  were  exposed  to  the  impositions,  the  seductions  and  the  oppressions,  of 
their  civilized  neighbours.  In  these  counteracting  causes,  both  the  friends,  and 
the  enemies,  of  Indian  Missions  may  learn,  why  it  is  so  difficult  to  reform  and 
christianize  savages. 


494  LITE    OF    PllESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

perity,  is  chiefly  on  the  Onohquaugas,  who  are  much  the  best 
disposed  of  any  of  the  Iroquois,  and  most  likely  to  come  in  consi- 
dci-able  numbers.  They  have  not  been  here  so  long  as  the  others, 
to  see  so  much  to  discourage  them,  and  they  alone  are  willing  to 
settle  at  the  Hop-lands.  The  affair  is  not  at  all  desperate  as  to 
them,  nor  as  to  some  of  the  Mohawks,  if  there  be  a  speedy  alteration. 
But  if  the  two  individuals,  who  challenge  to  themselves  the  whole 
direction  of  the  affairs  of  the  Iroquois,  continue  here,  there  is  no 
hope  of  the  continuance  of  Mr.  Hawley,  or  of  Mr.  Ashley  and  his 
wife.  They  will  not  continue  under  one,  whom  they  regard  as  so 
despotic  an  inspector.  And  there  will  be  no  way  to  retain  any  of 
the  Indians,  unless  it  be  some  who  are  entirely  mercenary,  who 
may  be  persuaded  to  stay,  for  the  sake  of  the  presents  that  are 
made  them,  and  to  be  maintained  and  live  here  in  mere  idleness. 
This,  it  is  now  very  apparent,  is  all  that  moves  many  of  the  Con- 
neenchees,  in  being  and  continuing  here." 

"  The  resident  trustee*  has  plainly  discovered  many  designs, 
tending  to  bring  money  into  his  own  pocket :  viz.  a  design  of  ta- 
king care  of  Mr.  Hollis'  boys  himself;  a  design  of  being  steward 
of  both  boarding-schools,  by  w  hich  he  will  have  the  opportunity  of 
supplying  the  Indians  out  of  his  own  shop,  and  of  getting  his  pay 
from  the  British  funds ;  a  design  of  introducing  his  son,  as  the 
master  of  the  boarding-school,  under  the  idea  of  a  present  supply, 
another  proper  person  not  appearing ;  and  an  expectation  of  divert- 
ing the  King's  bounty,  of  £500  sterling  to  the  Six  Nations,  from 
New- York.  The  former  school-master  has  given  hints  of  an  agree- 
ment, betw^een  himself  and  him,  to  resign  the  care  of  Mr.  Hollis' 
scholars  to  him,  when  things  are  ripe  for  it;  he  providing  for  their  main- 
tenance, and  taking  care  of  their  instruction  by  his  son.  Beside 
these  things,  his  wife  is  to  be  mistress  of  the  female  school;  and 
two  of  their  sons  to  be  maintained  and  educated  at  the  public  ex- 
pense ;  and  two  of  their  girls,  in  like  manner,  to  be  maintained  in  the 
female  school ;  and  one  of  his  family  to  be  his  wife's  usher  ;  and 
his  servants  to  be  paid  for,  under  the  character  of  servants  employed 
in  the  affairs  of  the  female  school ;  and  the  house  for  the  boarding- 
school  set  on  his  wife's  land  ;  and  tlien  the  farm  to  be  bought  by 
the  country  for  the  school,  with  the  advantage  of  selling  it  at  a  high 
rate  ;  and  yet  the  family  in  a  great  measure  to  be  maintained  on 
the  produce  of  it ;  beside  the  advantage  of  carrying  on  a  trade, 
both  with  the  Stockbridge  Indians,  and  the  Mohawks.  A  man  had 
need  to  have  a  great  stock  of  assuredness,  to  urge  a  public  affair, 
under  so  manifold  temptations  of  private  interest." 

The  time  of  Mr.  Edwards  bad  been  so  much  occupied  by  his 


*  T  have  regarded  the  use  of  the  antonomasia  as  correct,  in  this,  and  some 
other,  quotations. 


LIFE    OK    PKEblDENT    EDWARDS.  495 

removal  from  Northampton,  the  comfortable  establishment  of  his 
family  at  Stockbriclge,  the  ordinary  duties  of  his  parish  and  l;:s 
mission,  the  claims  of  the  Mohawks,  the  concerns  of  the  various  In- 
dian schools,  and  the  unhappy  contentions  of  the  whites  ;  that  he  had, 
at  first,  no  leisure  to  attend  to  the  Reply  of  Mr.  Williams.  In  the  latter 
part  of  the  spring,  however,  he  began  an  answer  to  that  gentleman, 
which  he  sent  to  the  press,  the  beginning  of  July,"^  with  the  following 
title :  "Misrepresentations  Corrected,  and  Truth  Vindicated,  in  a  Re- 
ply to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Solomon  Williams'  Book,  entitled.  The  True 
State  of  the  (Question,  concerning  the  (Qualifications,  necessary  to  Law- 
ful Communion,  in  the  Christian  Sacraments."  It  was  read  with 
deep  interest  by  both  parties,  was  admitted  by  both,  to  be  a  trium- 
phant answ^er  to  the  "True  State  of  the  Question,"  and,  taken  in 
connection  with  the  "  Humble  Attempt,"  was  regarded  by  the 
friends  of  Strict  Communion,  at  that  time,  as  it  has  ever  since 
been,  as  an  unanswerable  defence  of  their  system.  If  the  oppo- 
sers  of  that  system  have  not  so  regarded  it,  they  have  not  publicly 
avowed  the  opposite  opinion ;  as  no  attempt  to  answer  it  has  hith- 
erto appeared.  Mr.  Williams  is  said  to  have  asked  the  advice  of 
some  of  his  friends,  among  the  clergy,  whether  he  had  better  com- 
mence a  reply  ;  but,  finding  that  no  one  would  encourage  him  to 
an  attempt,  which  must  end  in  reiterated  defeat,  he  is  reported  to 
have  sat  down  in  mortified  silence. 

Appended  to  this  publication,  was  a  Letter  from  Mr.  Edwards, 
to  his  late  flock  at  Northampton.  They  had  published  Mr.  Wil- 
liams' pamphlet,  at  their  own  expense,  and  distributed  it  to  every 
family  in  the  town.  That  pamphlet,  though  so  unsuccessful  an  at- 
tempt to  answer  Mr.  Edwards,  was  yet  filled  with  many  lax  and 
sceptical  notions,  derived  from  the  writings  of  Dr.  Taylor  of 
Norwich,  and  apparently  adopted  by  Mr.  Williams,  in  the  existing 
emergency,  though  in  direct  opposition,  not  only  to  Mr.  Stoddard, 
whom  he  professed  at  once  to  venerate  and  defend,  but  to  his  own 
former  publications.  Though  Mr.  Edw^ards  knew  that  the  w^ork  of 
Mr.  W.  must  soon  go  to  its  proper  place,  yet  he  also  knew  the 
state  of  fervid  excitement,  in  which  his  former  congregation  had 
long  been  ;  that  they  had  printed  and  dispersed  the  pamphlet  of  Mr. 
W.,  (even  without  knowing  its  contents,)  as  an  answ^er  to  his  own 
Treatise,  and  thus,  in  a  sense,  had  adopted  it  before  the  world,  as 
their  own  work.  These  circumstances  led  him  to  fear,  that  the  fa- 
tal errors,  abounding  in  the  work  of  Mr.  Williams,  might,  at  a  pe- 
riod when  the  principles  of  Dr.  Taylor,  of  Norwich,  were  gaining 
many  converts  in  the  colonies,  mislead  many,  especially  of  the 
young,  among  his  former  people.     To  save  them  from  this  danger, 

*  It  was  not  published,  until  November. 


496  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

lie  addressed  to  them  an  affectionate,  and  truly  pastoral,  Letter, 
which  will  be  found  at  the  close  of  the  Answer  to  Mr.  Williams.* 

On  the  29th  of  June,  1752,  IMr.  Edwards  married  his  third 
daughter,  Esther,  to  the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  of  Newark,  Presi- 
dent of  theCollege  of  New- Jersey,  then  established  in  tiiat  town, 
and  a  few  years  afterwards  removed  to  Princeton. 

In  the  follo\^^ng  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine,  which  is  rich  in  intelli- 
gence, as  well  as  thought,  the  reader  will  find  one  fact,  not  gene- 
rally knowTi, — that  Mr.  Edwards,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  summer 
of  1751,  was  applied  to,  with  much  earnestness,  by  some  parish  in 
Virginia,  to  go  and  settle  with  them  in  the  ministry.  They  offered 
him  a  handsome  support,  and  sent  a  messenger  with  the  offer ,  but 
his  instalment  at  Stockbridge  had  taken  place,  before  his  arrival. 

^^  To  the  Rev.  John  Erskine. 

^^Stockbridge,  July  7,  1752. 

"Rev.  and  dear  Brother, 

"The  last  s])ring  I  received  a  letter  from  you,  dated,  at  the  be- 
ginning, July  17,  and  at  the  end,  Sept.  5,  1751;  and  the  week 
before  last  I  received  another  letter,  dated  Feb.  11,  1752,  with  a 
packet,  containing  Arnauld  De  la  frequente  Communion;  Good- 
win's Sermon  at  the  ordination  of  Mr.  Pickering;  Mr.  Jarvis'  Ser- 
mon on  methods  for  reviving  religion  ;  Reasons  of  dissent  from  the 
sentence  of  the  General  Assembly;  Edwards  on  Christ,  God-man, 
Mr.  Hartley's  Sermon  ;  Parish  on  the  Assembly's  Catechism ;  and 
Dr.  Gill's  Sermon  on  Isaiah  11,  12.  I  hfeartily  thank  you  for  these 
letters  and  pamphlets.  Arnauld  on  frequent  communion  will  not 
be  very  profitable  to  me,  by  reason  of  my  not  understanding  the 
French.  But  several  of  the  rest  have  been  very  agreeable  to  me. 
That  letter  which  you  menfion,  in  your  last  dated  Feb.  11,  as  sent 
about  a  twelve-month  before,  containing  some  Remarks  on  the 
decay  of  the  power  of  the  Papal  Clergy,  and  an  Abstract  of  Vene- 
ma's  Reasonings  to  prove,  that  Judas  was  not  present  at  the  Lord's 
supper,  I  never  received,  and  regret  it  much  that  I  missed  it,  and 
request  that  you  would  still  send  me  those  remarks  on  the  Decay 
of  the  Papal  Clergy. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  the  particular  information,  you  have 
given  me,  concerning  Mr.  Adam  of  Falkirk's  affair.  Though  it  is 
a  pity  so  deserving  a  person  should  suffer  at  all  from  his  brethren, 
only  for  not  acting  contrary  to  his  conscience ;  yet  it  is  matter  of 
thankfulness,  that  the  Assembly  of  the  year  51  showed  so  much 
better  temper,  than  that  of  the  preceding  year.     I  shall  be  glad  to 


t  This  excellent  Letter,  omited  here  for  want  of  room,  will  be  found  in  Vol. 
IV.  pp,  597 — 609,  and  should  be  read  in  this  place. 


LIFE    OF    PnEf",It>FNT    ETlWAF.DS.  ^tDT 

hear,  concerning  the  temjier  nnd  conduct  of  the  Assom])ly  of  this 
present  year,  '52. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  learn,  that  there  is  so  much  reason  to  fear,  that 
the  Revival  of  religion  in  the  Netherlands,  will  he;  hindered,  and 
brought  under  a  cloud,  through  the  prevailing  of  imprudences.  It 
is  what  I  was  afraid  1  should  hear.  I  should  be  glad  to  see  the 
Pastoral  Letter  you  mention  against  Fanaticism,  though  written  by 
one  disaffected  to  the  revival.  I  wish  I  could  see  a  History  of  En- 
thusiasm, through  all  ages,  written  by  some  good  hand,  a  hearty 
friend  of  vital  religion,  a  person  of  accurate  judgment,  and  large 
acquaintance  with  ecclesiastical  history.  Such  a  history,  well 
wTitten,  might  doubtless  be  exceedingly  useful  and  instructive,  and 
of  great  benefit  to  the  Church  of  God :  especially,  if  there  were 
united  with  it  a  proper  account  and  history  of  true  religion.  I 
should  tlierefore  choose,  that  the  work  should  be  a  history  of  true, 
vital  and  experimental.  Religion,  and  Enthusiasm:  bringing  down 
the  history  from  age  to  age,  judiciously  and  clearly  making  the  dis- 
tinction, between  one  and  the  other ;  observing  the  difference  of 
source,  progress  and  issue ;  properly  pointing  out  the  limits,  and 
doing  justice  to  each,  in  every  age,  and  at  each  remarkable  period. 
I  don't  know  that  there  is  any  such  thing  extant,  or  any  thing  that 
would,  in  any  good  measure,  answer  the  same  purpose.  }f  there 
be,  I  should  be  glad  to  hear  of  it. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  account,  you  give  me  of  Mr.  Taylor's  wri- 
tings, and  of  the  things,  which  he  is  doing  to  propagate  his  opinions,  ll 
now  appears  to  be  a  remarkable  time,  in  the  christian  world ;  per- 
haps such  an  one,  as  never  has  been  before  :  things  are  going  down 
hill  so  fast,  and  truth  and  religion,  both  of  heart  and  practice,  are  de- 
parting by  such  swift  steps,  that  I  think  it  must  needs  be,  that  a  cri- 
sis is  not  very  far  off,  and  what  will  then  appear,  I  will  not  pietend 
to  determine. 

"  The  last  week,  I  sent  away  my  Answer  to  Mr.  Williams.  If  I 
live  till  it  is  published,  I  will  endeavour  to  send  one  to  you, 
and  some  other  friends  in  Scotland.  I  hope  now,  in  a  short  time, 
to  be  at  leisure  to  resume  my  design,  of  writing  something  on  the 
Arminian  controversy.  I  have  no  thought  of  going  through  with 
all  parts  of  the  controversy  at  once  ;  but  the  subject,  which  I  inten- 
ded, God  willing,  first  to  write  something  upon,  was  Freewill  and 
Moral  Agency;  endeavouring,  with  as  much  exactness  as  I  am 
able,  to  consider  the  nature  of  that  freedom  of  moral  agents,  which 
.makes  them  the  proper  subjects  of  moral  government,  moral  pre- 
cepts, councils,  calls,  motives,  persuasions,  promises  and  threaten- 
ings,  praise  and  blame,  rewards  and  punishments :  strictly  exami- 
ning the  modern  notions  of  these  things,  endeavouring  to  demon- 
strate their  most  palpable  inconsistency  and  absurdity  ;  endeavour- 
ing also  to  bring  the  late  great  objections  and  outcries  against  Cal- 
vinistic  divinity,  from  these  topics,  to  the  test  of  the  strictest  rea~ 

Vol.  I.  *    63 


498  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

soning  ;  and  particularly  that  great  objection,  in  which  the  modern 
writers  have  so  much  gloried,  so  long  triumphed^  with  so  great  a 
degree  of  insult  towards  the  most  excellent  divines,  and  in  effect 
against  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ: — viz.  That  the  Calvinistic  no- 
tions of  God's  moral  government  are  contrary  to  the  common  sense 
of  mankind.  In  this  essay,  I  propose  to  take  particular  notice  of 
the  writings  of  Dr.  Whitby,  and  Mr.  Chubby  and  the  writings  of 
some  others,  who,  though  not  properly  Pelagians,  nor  Ai-minians, 
yet,  in  their  notions  of  the  freedom  of  the  wiU,  have,  in  the  main, 
gone  into  the  same  scheme.  But,  if  I  live  to  prosecute  my  de- 
sign, I  shall  send  you  a  more  particular  account  of  my  plan,  after  it 
is  perfected. 

"  I  suppose  there  has  been  a  trial  before  now,  whether  a  national 
collection  can  be  obtained  in  Scotland,  for  New-Jersey  College : 
unless  it  has  been  thought  prudent,  by  such  as  are  friends  of  the 
affair,  to  put  it  off  a  year  longer ;  as  some  things  I  have  seen^ 
seem  to  argue.  There  was  a  design  of  Mr.  Pemberton's  going  to 
England  and  Scotland.  He  was  desired  by  the  Trustees,  and  it 
was  his  settled  purpose,  to  have  gone  the  last  year ;  but  his  people, 
and  his  colleague,  Mr.  Cummings,  hindered  it.  His  intention  of 
going  occasioned  great  uneasiness  among  his  people,  and  created 
some  dissatisfaction  towards  him,  in  the  minds  of  some  of  them. 
Since  that.  President  Burr  has  been  desired  to  go,  by  the  unani- 
mous voice  of  the  Trustees.  Nevertheless,  I  believe  there  is  little 
probability  of  his  consenting  to  it ;  partly,  on  the  account  of  his 
having  lately  entered  into  a  married  state.  On  the  29th  of  last  month, 
he  was  married  to  my  third  daughter. 

"  What  you  write  of  the  appointment  of  a  gentleman,  tathe  ofHce 
of  Lieut.  Governour,  of  Virginia,  who  is  a  friend  of  religion,  is  an 
event,  that  the  friends  of  religion  in  America  have  great  reason  to 
rejoice  in ;  by  reason  of  the  late  revival  of  religion  in  that  pro- 
vince, and  the  opposition  that  has  been  made  against  it,  and  the  great 
endeavours  to  crush  it,  by  many  of  the  chief  men  of  the  province. 
Mr.  Davies,  in  a  letter  I  lately  received  from  him,  dated  March  2, 
'52,  mentions  the  same  thing.  His  words  are,  "  we  have  a  new 
Governour ;  who  is  a  candid,  condescending  gentleman.  And,  as 
he  has  been  educated  in  the  church  of  Scotland,  he  has  a  respect  for 
the  Presbyterians ;  which  I  hope  is  a  happy  omen."  I  was  in  the 
latter  part  of  the  last  summer,  applied  to,  with  much  earnestness 
and  importunity,  by  some  of  the  people  of  Virginia,  to  come  and 
settle  among  them,  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  ;  who  subscribed 
handsomely  for  my  encouragement  and  support,  and  sent  a  mes- 
senger to  me  with  their  request  and  subscriptions;  but  I  was  in- 
stalled at  Stockbridge,  before  the  messenger  came.  I  have  writ- 
ten some  account  of  the  state  of  things,  at  Stockbridge,  to  Mr. 
McLaurin  ;  which  you  doubtless  will  have  opportunity  to  see. 

"  July  24.    The  people  of  Northampton  are  still  destitute  of  a 


UFK    OF    PRESIDENT    EDVVAllDS.  499 

minister,  and  in  broken,  sorrowful  circumstances.  They  had  the 
last  winter,  Mr.  Farrand,  a  young  gentleman  from  New-Jersey 
College  ;  but  contended  much  about  him,  so  that  he  has  left  them. 
They  ai-e  now  in  a  state  of  contention ;  my  warmest  opposers  are 
quarrelling  among  themselves.  I  hear  they  have  lately  sent  for  a 
young  preucher,  a  Mr.  Green  of  Barnstable,  who  is  soon  expected; 
but  I  know  notliing  of  his  character. 

"  Another  minister  has  lately  been  dismissed  from  his  people, 
on  the  same  account  that  I  was  dismissed  from  Northampton :  viz. 
Mr.  Billings,  of  Cold  Spring.  Many  of  the  Cold  Spring  people 
were  originally  of  Northampton,  were  educated  in  the  principles, 
and  have  followed  the  example,  of  the  people  there. 

"  I  heartily  thank  you,  for  the  accounts  you  have  from  time  to 
time  sent  me  of  new  books,  that  are  published  in  Great  Britain.  I 
desire  you  would  continue  such  a  favour.  I  am  fond  of  knowing 
how  things  are  going  on  in  the  literary  world. 

"  Mr.  John  Wright,  a  member  of  New-Jersey  College ;  who  is 
to  take  the  degree  of  Bachelor  of  Aits,  the  next  September ;  is 
now  at  my  house.  He  was  born  in  Scotland;  has  lived  in  Virgi- 
nia ;  is  a  friend  and  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Davies  ;  has  a  great  inter- 
est in  the  esteem  of  the  religious  people  of  Virginia,  and  is  peculiar- 
ly esteemed  by  President  Burr;  has  been  admitted  to  special  inti- 
macy with  him;  and  is  a  person  of  very  good  character  for  his 
miderstanding,  prudence,  and  piety.  He  has  a  desire  to  have  a 
correspondence  with  some  divine  cf  his  native  country,  and  has 
chosen  you  for  his  correspondent,  if  he  may  be  admitted  to  such  a 
favour.  He  intends  to  send  you  a  letter  with  this,  of  which  I  would 
ask  a  favourable  reception,  as  he  has  laid  me  under  some  special 
obligations. 

"My  wife  joins  with  me  in  affectionate  salutations  to  you,  and 
Mrs.  Erskine.     Hoping  that  we  shall  continue  to  remember  each 
otlier  at  the  Throne  of  Grace,  I  am, 
"  Dear  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 
*'  Brother  and  Servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

Soon  after  he  had  entered  on  the  mission  at  Stockbridge,  Mr. 
Edwards  addressed  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hollis,  by  letter,  concerning  the 
Indian  schools,  and  the  state  of  the  mission  at  large.  The  obser- 
vations of  a  year  had  now  brought  him  far  more  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  the  actual  state  of  things,  and  particularly,  with  the 
manner  in  which  the  annual  benefactions  of  that  gentleman  had  been 
expended ;  and  he  felt  himself  bound,  at  whatever  hazard,  to  make 
the  facts  known.  In  doing  this,  he  presented  him,  in  a  letter  bear- 
ing date  July  17,  1752,  with  a  succinct  and  well  drawn  history  of 
the    mission,  and  stated,  in  general  terms,  the  unhappy  disagree- 


'^00  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    ED'.VAllDs- 

ineni,  subsisting  among  the  English  inhabitants  of  Stockbridgc,  as 
well  as  various  other  circiunstances  of  malignant  aspect,  wliich 
threatened  ruin  to  the  mission,  and  to  the  Indian  schools.  Want 
of  room  forbids  its  insertion.  Widi  this  letter,  he  forwai'ded  to  Mr. 
Hollis  a  certificate,  from  a  large  number  of  the  most  respectable 
people  of  the  town,  stating  the  actual  conduct  of  his  agent  or  in- 
structor, die  condition  of  the  Indian  boys,  and  the  manner  in  which 
his  benefactions  had  been  perverted. 

The  firm  and  undeviating  course  of  conduct  pursued  by  Mr. 
Edwards,  with  regard  to  the  Indian  schools,  and  the  general  con- 
cerns of  the  mission,  at  length  convinced  the  resident  trustee,  and 
his  new  friends,  that  they  had  nothing  to  hope,  from  any  compli- 
ances on  his  part.  They  resolved,  therefore,  if  possible,  to  effect 
his  removal  from  Stockbridge.  With  this  view,  that  gentleman  re- 
paired to  Boston,  and  endeavoured,  in  conversation,  not  only  with 
the  Commissioners,  but  with  some  of  the  principal  men  in  the  go- 
vernment, (and  among  others,  with  the  Secretary  of  the  Province,) 
to  produce  in  their  minds  very  unfavourable  impressions  concern- 
ing him :  particularly,  that  he  was  a  man  of  an  unyielding  cha- 
racter, and  unwilling  to  be  reconciled  to  those,  from  whom  he  had 
differed  ;  and  that,  by  this  course,  he  was  likely  to  ruin  the  Indian 
mission.  The  friends  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  Boston,  giving  him 
timely  notice  of  tliis  attempt ;  he  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Hon. 
Mr.  Willard,  in  his  own  defence,  bearing  date  July  17,  1752  ;  in 
which,  he  so  eflectually  refuted  these  representations,  that  the  in- 
fluence of  that  gendeman  w^as  permanently  secured,  in  favour  of 
the  mission,  and  its  real  friends. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Vote  of  thanks  of  Commissioners. — Sermon  at  JVewark.— Mea- 
sures of  the  enemies  oj  the  Mission  defeated. — Letter  to  Mr. 
Oliver. — Freedom  of  the  Will. — Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. —  De- 
position of  Mr.  Gillespie. — Letter  to  do. — Letter  to  Mr. 
M'  Culloch. — Report  of  Indian  Agent. — Reply  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards.— Further  defeat  of  the  enemies  of  the  Mission. 

On  the  29th  of  June,  the  Secretary  of  the  Commissioners  in 
Boston,  forwarded,  by  their  direction,  to  Mr.  Edwards  and  Mr. 
Hawley,  an  official  expression  of  the  approbation,  entertained  by 
that  Board,  of  the  firmness  and  integrity  manifested  by  them,  in 
tlieir  conduct  relative  to  the  Stockbridge  mission.*  The  Commis- 
sioners knew  of  the  attempt  made,  to  shake  their  own  confidence, 
and  that  of  the  public,  in  their  agents  in  that  mission ;  and,  doubt- 
less, intended,  by  this  prompt  and  unequivocal  act  of  justice,  at 
once  to  sustain  the  hearts  of  these  gentlemen,  under  their  severe 
trials,  and  to  make  it  manifest  to  all  men,  that,  notwithstanding  that 
attempt,  they  continued  to  repose  in  them  an  undiminished  confi- 
dence. In  his  reply,  bearing  date  Aug.  27,  1752,  Mr.  Edwards, 
after  returning  his  thanks  to  those  gentlemen,  for  this  very  deci- 
sive expression  of  their  favourable  opinion,  made  to  their  Secretary 
his  regular  Report  of  the  state  of  tlie  mission. 

After  observing,  that  the  people  of  the  town,  both  English  and 
Indians,  notwithstanding  repeated  and  vigorous  efforts,  to  break  up 
their  union,  and,  particularly,  to  excite  a  disaffection  in  them  to- 
wards their  ministers,  w^ere  all  happily  united  in  opinion  and  affec- 
tion, except  one  individual  and  his  family ;  he  mentions  the  alli- 
ance of  the  resident  trustee  with  his  family,  which  took  place 
soon  after  the  arrival  at  Stockbridge  of  his  nephew  from  Con- 
necticut. The  latter  gentleman  soon  called  on  Mr.  Edwards, 
and,  after  alluding  to  the  fact,  that  he  was  opposed  to  the 
appointment  of  his  cousin,  as  superintendent  of  the  female  board- 
mg-school,  insisted,  as  a  member  of  the  Society  in  London, 
and  of  the  board  of  Commissioners,  on  knowing  his  reasons  ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  offered  to  be  the  instrument  of  set- 
tling  the  differences  subsisting   at  Stockbridge.     Mr.    Edwards, 

*  The  copy  designed  for  Mr.  Hawley,  was  inclosed  in  the  letter  to  Mr.  Ed- 
wards. Probably  a  similar  vote  was  forwarded  directly  to  Mr.  Woodbridge,  as 
that  gentleman  always  enjoyed  their  fullest  confidence. 


502  LIFE    OF   PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

preferring  to  answer  this  demand  by  letter,  declined  to  make  a  re- 
presentation of  the  case  before  him,  but  offered  to  join  with  him, 
in  an  earnest  representation  to  the  board  of  Commissioners,  that 
they  would  appoint  a  Committee,  to  come  on  the  spot,  to  enquire 
into  the  existing  difficulties  ;  on  the  ground,  that  it  was  more  pro- 
per to  have  such  a  Committee,  as  judges  or  mediators,  than  an  in- 
dividual, who  was  very  nearly  related  to  the  family,  chiefly  inter- 
ested in  these  contentions ;  and  proposed,  that  the  Commissioners, 
by  their  Committee,  should  be  desired  to  look  into  the  manage- 
ment of  the  affairs  of  Stockbridge,  from  the  beginning,  by  all  the 
living  inhabitants  and  residents  of  the  town,  who  had  had  any  hand 
in  them,  in  any  respect ;  declaring  himself  ready,  to  open  himself 
with  freedom,  before  such  a  Committee. — His  correspondent,  in 
reply,  declined  this  proposal,  reasserted  his  right  to  know  the  objec- 
tions to  the  proposed  teacher  of  the  boarding-school,  and  intimated 
the  regret  which  he  should  feel,  if  obliged  to  inform  the  Society  in 
London,  of  the  existing  state  of  things  at  Stockbridge. — Mr.  Edwards, 
in  his  answer,  insisted  anew  on  his  former  proposal,  of  referring  the 
case  to  the  Commissioners,  declared  himself  not  satisfied,  that  his  cor- 
respondent, acting  singly,  had  authorit}^  to  demand  the  reasons  of  his 
judgment,  as  to  the  teacher  of  the  female  school,  whatever  the  So- 
ciety in  London,  or  their  Commissioners  in  Boston,  acting  as  a  body, 
might  have;  and  concluded,  by  referring  himself  again  to  the 
Commissioners,  who  were  his  constituents,  and  who  had,  a  little  be- 
fore, informed  him,  that  they  looked  upon  tlieir  agents,  as  account- 
able to  them  only. 

The  arrival  of  this  genderaan,  and  the  assurances  he  gave  tliem 
of  his  influence  with  the  Society  in  London,  revived  for  a  time,  tlie 
drooping  courage  of  his  friends,  particularly  of  tlie  resident  trustee, 
and  of  the  agent  of  Mr.  Mollis,  who  had,  just  before  that  event,  re- 
solved on  removing  from  Stockbridge. — Having  thus  alluded  to 
the  mischievous  consequences,  growing  out  of  this  unhappy  state  of 
things,  Mr.  Edwards  proceeds, — "  Thus  things  go  on,  in  a  state  of 
confusion,  of  which  those  at  a  distance  can  scarcely  have  any  idea. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  affair  of  the  Six  Nations  is  languishing  to 
death.  The  affair  of  the  Mohawks  is,  I  fear,  past  recovery,  and  in 
a  manner  dead.  They  seem  to  be  discouraged,  are  most  of  tliem 
gone,  and  I  do  not  expect  will  come  up  again ;  unless  it  be  to  get 
presents,  and  satisfy  their  hunger,  in  the  present  time  of  great  scar- 
city in  their  own  country.  They  have  apparently  very  much  given 
up  the  idea,  of  coming  hither  for  instruction.  The  Onohquaugas 
have  not  been  here  so  long,  to  be  discouraged  by  our  manage- 
ment. But  if  things  go  on  in  this  manner,  it  may  be  expected  that 
they  will  be  discouraged  also.  The  management  of  things  has  a 
great  while  been  in  wrong  hands.  They  ought  to  be  conducted  ex- 
clusively by  the  Commissioners,  who  have  had  tlie  care  of  Stock- 
bridge  affairs ;  but  here  are  others,  who  seem  to  aim  to  engross  all 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  503 

to  themselves,  to  be  Indefatigably  active  in  prosecuting  their 
particular  designs,  and  impatient  of  every  thing  tiiat  stands  in  their 
way. 

"  Very  much  depends  on  the  appointment  of  a  teacher  of  the 
female  school.  If  that  affair  is  settled  to  tlieir  minds,  their  influ- 
ence here  is  well  established.  They  are  sensible  that  affairs  de- 
pend very  much  on  this  simple  point,  and  therefore  this  is  the  point 
they  drive  at  with  all  their  might.  The  wisdom  of  the  Commis- 
sioners will  easily  discover,  that  this  is  the  juncture,  in  which  the 
foundation  Is  to  be  laid  of  the  future  state  of  things  in  Stockbridge  : 
of  their  prosperity  or  adversity  ;  and  perhaps  with  no  opportunity 
of  future  redress.  I  look  upon  myself,  as  called  upon  to  speak 
somewhat  freely,  at  such  a  juncture  ;  and  therefore  I  hope  my  so 
^oing  will  be  candidly  interpreted  by  the  Commissioners.  I  do 
not  think  that  our  affairs  will  ever  prosper,  if  they  must  be  under 
the  hands  of  the  resident  trustee  and  his  friends." 

In  the  month  of  September,  Mr.  Edwards  went  into  New  Jer- 
sey, and,  on  the  °28th  of  that  month,  preached  a  sermon  from 
James  ii.  19,  before  the  Synod  at  Newark,  entitled,  "True  Grace 
distinguished  from  the  Experience  of  Devils  ;"  which  was  published 
at  tlieir  request.  It  is  a  clear,  condensed  and  powerful,  exhibition 
of  the  differences  between  real  religion  and  its  counterfeits,  and  will 
be  found  eminently  useful,  as  a  criterion  of  christian  character. 

In  the  unhappy  controversy,  between  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  his 
opponent,  perhaps  no  one  circumstance  had  been  more  mortifying  to 
the  latter,  or  had  had  a  more  direct  tendency  to  defeat  all  his 
measures,  than  tlie  fact,  that  the  white  inhabitants  of  the  town,  (his 
own  immediate  family  connections  excepted,)  as  well  as  the  Indians 
of  both  nations,  were,  to  a  man,  opposed  to  himself,  and  friendly 
to  his  antagonist.  This  rendered  his  daily  life  uncomfortable ;  it 
discouraged  every  attempt  to  forward  his  plans  at  the  public  meedngs 
of  the  town  ;  and  when  any  point  in  controversy  was  to  be  decided, 
or  any  measure  attempted,  at  Boston,  he  found  that  Mr.  Woodbridge 
had  a  host  of  substantial  witnesses  on  the  spot,  who  gave  in  their 
testimony  without  fear.  In  this  way,  hitherto,  every  important  de- 
sign had  been  frustrated. 

The  winter,  that  was  approaching,  was  regarded  by  both  parties 
as  a  most  important  and  interesting  period ;  during  which,  in  all 
probability,  the  affairs  of  the  mission,  and  of  the  town,  would  be 
brought  to  a  crisis.  Those  opposed  to  Mr.  Woodbridge,  were  not 
ignorant,  that,  if  Mr.  Edwards  were  continued  as  the  missionary  at 
Stockbridge,  such  was  his  influence  at  Boston,  and  his  general 
weight  of  character,  there  was  too  much  probability,  that  Mr.  Wood- 
bridge  would  be  continued  the  school-master  of  the  Housaton- 
nucks,  and  Mr.  Hawley  of  the  Iroquois.     In  that  case,  there  was 


o04  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAUDS. 

but  little  chance  of  the  female  school  being  placed  in  the  desired 
hanfis;  if  that  failed,  die  stewardship  of  all  the  schools  would  fail; 
and  then  the  whole  system  of  measures,  apparently  so  happily  con- 
ceived, would  be  defeated.  But  if  Mr.  Edwards  could  be  removed 
from  Stockbridge,  the  removal  of  Mr.  Woodbridge  would  be  at- 
tended with  less  difficulty ;  that  of  Mr.  Hawley,  a  young  man, 
would  follow  of  course,  which  would  make  way,  for  the  son  of  the 
resident  trustee ;  these  changes  would  almost  necessarily  ensure 
the  female  school,  as  well  as  the  stewardship  and  agency,  in  the  fa- 
mily ;  and  then  the  other  objects  in  view,  could  scarcely  fail  to  be 
accomplished.  As  so  much  depended  on  the  fact,  whether  Mr. 
Edwards  was  continued  at  Stockbridge,  or  not ;  there  seemed  to 
be  held  out,  to  minds  capable  of  being  influenced  by  them,  very 
strong  inducements,  to  make  one  vigourous  effort  to  effect  his  re- 
moval. This  was  accordingly  resolved  on,  and,  by  some  of  the 
persons  concerned,  incautiously  proclaimed. 

One  of  the  steps,  taken  to  accomplish  this  so  desired  object,  is 
mentioned  in  the  following  letter.  Whether  it  was  one  of  the 
measures  concerted,  or  was  the  self-suggested  plan  of  the  individual, 
who  attempted  to  execute  it,  does  not  certainly  appear.  Could  he 
have  succeeded,  could  the  English  inhabitants  of  the  towii  have 
been  changed,  and  a  new  set  of  inhabitants  have  been  introduced, 
all  of  them  his  adherents  ;  no  event  probably  would  have  so 
much  furthered  the  objects  in  view.  The  almost  utter  impossi- 
bility of  its  success,  connected  with  its  total  and  immediate  discom- 
fiture, rendered  the  attempt  supremely  ridiculous,  and  covered  the 
individual  making  it,  and  his  party,  with  confusion. 

*'  To  Andrew  Oliver,  Esquire. 

"  Stockbridge,  Oct.  1762. 
*'  Sir, 

"  Since  my  letter  of  Aug.  27,  various  things  have  occurred  among 
us,  of  which  it  may  not  be  improper  to  inform  you.  It  seems  as 
though  there  was  a  resolution,  in  the  people  on  the  hill,  to  carry 
their  schemes  into  effect,  though  the  earth  should  be  removed 
for  it.  The  opponent  of  Mr.  Woodbridge  has  lately  made  a 
vigourous  and  vehement  attempt,  suddenly  to  change  the  Eng- 
lish inhabitants  of  the  town,  by  buying  out,  at  once,  the  old 
inhabitants  in  general.  To  this  end,  he  arose  very  early  in  the 
morning,  and  went  out  before  day,  and  called  some  of  them 
out  of  their  beds,  offering  to  buy  their  farms.  In  this  manner, 
he  went  from  one  to  another,  until  he  had  been  to  almost  all 
the  inhabitants,  in  that  forenoon ;  offering  very  high  prices,  and 
cash  in  hand;  vehemently  pressing  that  the  bargain  should  be 
immediately  closed,  and  the  WTitings  drawn,  and  the  affair  com- 
pleted, without  delay  ;  urging  it  most  pressingly  on  each  one. 
One  of  the   inhabitants  completed  and    finished    the    affair  with 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


505 


him.  Some  others  came  to  a  verbal  agreement,  on  conditions. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  great  and  extraordinary  vigour,  with  which 
this  matter  was  carried  on,  yet  the  design  was  discovered,  before 
it  could  be  completed,  and  so  disappointed ;  and  then  his  friends, 
and  he  himself  too,  were  glad  to  lay  this  conduct  to  distr action. 

"  A  scheme  is  plainly  laid,  entirely  to  thrust  Mr.  Hawley  out  of 
the  schools ;  let  his  friends  and  constituents  do  what  they  will  to 
prevent  it.  The  resident  trustee  has  told  Mr.  Hawley,  that  it  is 
the  design  of  Mr.  Mollis'  former  school-master,  to  set  up  a  distinct 
independent  school,  under  another  teacher,  whom  he  shall  provide 
to  keep  the  school  on  Mr.  HoUis'  behalf,  and  that  he  intends  to  take 
up  all  boys  who  come,  to  board  them  and  clothe  them  well,  better 
than  heretofore.  Probably  he  presumes,  that  the  clothing  and  pre- 
sents that  will  be  offered,  will  tempt  them  all  to  subject  themselves 
to  himself,  rather  than  to  Mr.  Hawley. 

"  I  have  lately  been  a  journey  to  Newark,  in  New-Jersey,  where 
I  saw  Mr.  Hazzard,  a  merchant  in  New- York,  who  told  me  that 
he,  the  last  June,  received  and  answered  two  bills  from  him, 
drawn  on  Mr.  Hollis,  of  £80  sterling  apiece.  By  this,  it 
appears,  that  he  has  drawn  full  pay  from  Mr.  Hollis,  for  the  two 
years  past,  as  much  as  he  had  in  the  preceding  years,  without 
clothing  the  boys  in  the  least :  imposing  on  Mr.  Hollis,  in  an  almost 
unprecedented  manner,  considering  the  greatness  of  the  injury,  the 
plainness  of  the  case,  and  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  has  proceed- 
ed to  such  a  step,  after  this  part  of  the  country  had  been,  so  long  a 
time,  so  full  of  objections  to  his  being  here  at  Mr.  Hollis'  expense, 
without  being  engaged  in  the  business  to  which  Mr.  Hollis  ap- 
pointed him,  and  for  which,  he  agreed  to  send  him  his  money.  In. 
the  beginning  of  the  year  before  last,  he  professedly  threw  up  Mr. 
Hollis'  school,  and  dismissed  all  his  boys,  supposing  that  Mr.  Hollis 
was  dead ;  it  having  been  long  since  he  heard  any  thing  from  him. 
In  what  he  did  afterwards,  in  teaching  the  Mohawks,  he  did  not 
pretend  to  proceed  on  Mr.  Hollis'  plan,  or  with  any  expectation  of 
any  pay  from  him.  And  he  never  pretended  to  take  up  any  boys 
on  Mr.  Hollis'  account,  till  about  a  year  afterwards,  viz.  the  last 
autumn,  after  he  had  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Hollis ;  and  it  is 
but  little  he  has  done  since.  The  charge  he  has  been  at,  in  cloth- 
ing the  boys,  is  but  a  trifle.  He  has  never  really  kept  any  school 
at  all,  though  sometimes  he  has  pretended  to  teach  some  children 
to  read,  in  a  most  confused  manner.  But,  through  a  great  part  of 
the  last  year,  he  has  not  done  even  that.  He  has  been  absent,  at 
least  one  third  of  the  year  ;  and  the  greater  part  of  the  time  that 
he  has  been  here,  he  has  not  had  so  much  as  the  shadow  of  a 
school,  nor  been  in  any  business  whatsoever. 

"  I  some  time  ago  ^\TOte  a  letter  to  Mr.  Hollis,  giving  him  somQ 
account  of  the  state  of  his  affairs  here,  accompanied  with  letters 

Vol.  r.  64 


506  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

from  some  of  the  inhabitants  of  Stockbridge.     I  desired  Mr.  Prince 
to  show  those  letters  to  some  of  the  Commissioners. 

'*  One  of  the  Trustees  has  lately  been  here,  but  staid  only  two 
or  three  days.  While  he  was  here,  there  was  little  else  but  alter- 
cation, and  warm  contest,  between  his  colleague  and  him,  concern- 
ing the  mode  of  managing  affairs,  and  concerning  the  female  school. 
And  he  is  gone  away  entirely  discouraged,  vrith  a  resolution  to  have 
no  more  to  do  with  the  affairs  of  Stockbridge,  which,  he  says,  are 
blown  up  already.  If  it  be  not  altogether  so,  yet  1  think  it  is  high 
time  the  Hon.  Commissioners  had  full  information  of  the  state  of 
things  among  us.  We  have  long  waited  for  an  opportunit]''  to 
send,  but  none  has  presented.  Mr.  Hawley  meets  with  many 
things  to  discourage  him ;  his  circumstances  here  are  very  difficult 
and  precarious;  he  greatly  needs  the  advice  of  the  Commissioners ; 
he  has  a  strong  inclination  to  see  the  Commissioners  himself,  and  to 
confer  with  them,  freely  and  fully,  about  the  affairs  in  v.hich  he  is 
concerned  ;  and  it  appears  to  me  necessary  that  he  should  do  this, 
both  for  the  public  interest,  and  on  his  own  account.  He  is  kept 
out  of  business,  and  probably  very  good  business,  in  which  he 
might  settle  elsewhere ;  and  I  do  not  wonder  that  he  is  uneasy^ 
and  thinks  it  necessary  to  talk  with  the  Commissioners.  We  have 
had  thoughts  of  his  staymg,  until  Mr.  Woodbridge  went  to  the  Ge- 
neral Court,  the  necessity  of  whose  going  appears  more  and  more 
apparent;  but  the  Court  being  prorogued,  and  we  not  knowing  for 
how  long  a  time ;  and  the  important  matters  of  intelligence  to  the 
Commissioners,  and  to  Mr.  Hollis,  having  been  so  long  delayed  for 
want  of  opportunity,  wliich  so  much  require  their  speedy  notice  ; 
our  calamities  also  continuing,  and  growing  worse  and  worse;  and 
it  being  now  a  time,  wherein  most  of  the  Mohawks  are  gone,  and 
so  a  time  in  which  Mr.  Hawley  can  be  absent,  with  far  less  incon- 
venience than  some  time  hence,  when  many  of  the  Mohawks  are 
expected  down,  in  consequence  of  the  want  of  provisions  in  their 
own  country  ;  and  considering  diat  probably  the  Commissioners 
might  have  a  more  free  opportunity,  to  hear  and  consider  Mr.  Haw- 
ley's  representations  now,  than  in  the  time  of  the  sitting  of  the 
Court ;  and  likewise,  that  it  might  be  some  convenience  to  the 
Commissioners,  to  have  notice  of  the  state  of  our  affeirs,  so  as  to 
ripen  their  thoughts  with  regard  to  them,  before  the  sitting  of  the 
Court ; — I  say,  considering  these  things,  it  was  thought  advisable 
for  Mr.  Hawley  not  to  delay  his  journey.  That  the  Most  High 
would  give  wisdom,  and  counsel  and  success  to  the  Commission- 
ers, in  their  consultations  on  our  affairs,  and  direct  and  aid  those, 
who  are  here  employed,  in  so  important  a  service,  is  the  humble 
and  earnest  prayer  of 

"  Their  most  obedient  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT  EDWARDS,  507 

From  these  scenes  of  unsuccessful  intrigue,  and  disappointed 
avarice,  all  notice  of  which,  could  the  life  of  Mi-.  Edwards,  as  a 
missionar}-'  at  Stockbridge,  have  been  fairly  exhibited  without  thus 
detailing  them,  would  have  been  most  gladly  dispensed  with ;  the 
reader  will  turn  with  pleasure,  even  for  a  short  interval,  to  commu- 
nicadons  prompted  by  friendship,  and  relating  to  the  more  general 
interests  of  the  Church. 

Some  years  before  this,  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Erskine, 
he  had  received  the  writings  of  some  of  the  more  considerable 
Arminian  writers,  particularly  of  Dr.  Taylor  of  Norwich,  and 
Dr.  Turnbull ;  which,  with  those  of  Dr.  Whitby,  and  those  of 
Chubb  and  Tindal,  already  in  his  possession,  furnished  him  with 
the  means  of  examining  their  whole  system.  This  examination  he 
commenced,  in  form,  a  considerable  time  before  he  left  Northamp- 
ton ;  and  in  the  summer  of  1747,  as  we  have  already  seen,  he  an- 
counced,  in  his  first  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine,  the  general  plan  of  a 
Discourse  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  and  Moral  Agency.  This 
subject  drew  his  attention,  even  while  he  was  a  member  of  Col- 
lege; and,  from  an  investigation  of  the  nature  of  Power,  to  vdiich 
he  was  led  by  reading  the  article,  in  the  Essay  on  the  Human 
Understanding,  relating  to  tiiat  subject,  he  derived  the  all  important 
principle,   That  Men,  in  a  proper  sense,  may  be  said  to  have 

POWER  to  abstain  FROM  SIN,  AND  TO  REPENT,  TO  DO  GOOD 

WORKS,  AND  TO  LIVE  HOLiLY ;  BECAUSE  IT  DEPENDS  ON 
THEIR  WILL.— After  Mr.  Edwards  had  thus  announced  his 
plan,  liis  attention  was  necessarily  diverted  from  its  execution,  dur- 
ing his  residence  in  Northampton,  by  the  controversy  respecting 
the  Qualifications  for  Communion — his  Treatise  on  that  subject, 
and  the  many  perplexities  and  embarrassments,  which  terminated 
in  his  dismission.  His  removal  from  Northampton,  die  establish- 
ment of  his  family  at  Stockbridge,  the  Answer  to  Mr.  Williams, 
and  his  ordinary  duties  as  minister  and  missionary,  and  the  unhap- 
py controversy  subsisting  respecting  the  mission,  engrossed  his 
whole  time,  until  July,  1752.  In  August  following,  he  entered  up- 
on the  work,  and  pursued  it  a  short  time ;  but  the  violence  of  tiiat 
controversy,  and  the  attempts  of  the  party  hostile  to  Mr.  Wood- 
bridge,  to  force  him  from  Stockbridge,  compelled  him  to  intermit 
his  labours.  Some  of  these  circumstances  are  alluded  to,  in  the 
following  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine,  in  which  the  reader  will  also  find 
some  inieresting  details,  relative  to  the  Dutch  Church,  and  to  tiie 
state  of  religion  in  New-Jersey. 

"  Stockbridge,  JVovember  23,  JV.  S.  1752. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Brother, 

"  In  August  last,  I  wrote  to  you,  and  sent  away  the  letter,  (v.itli 


508  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

betters  to  some  of  my  other  correspondents,)  to  Boston,  to  be  con- 
veyedvto  Scodand.  Therein  I  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  two 
Letters  from  you,  one  of  July  17,  '51 ;  another  of  Feb.  11,  '52; 
with  the  pamphlets,  put  wifh  the  last  letter ;  and  now  acknowledge 
the  receipt  of  another  letter  from  you  of  May  14,  '52;  and  the 
pamphlets  you  sent  with  the  last.  The  letter  I  received  the  latter 
end  of  September :  the  pamphlets  I  did  not  receive  till  very  late- 
ly:  they  were  forgotten  by  Mr.  Prince.  The  Treatise  against 
Fanaticism,  I  shall  have  no  benefit  from,  because  I  am  not  ac- 
quainted with  the  French  language.  What  the  Je\vish  Convert 
has  published  of  his  conversion,  etc.,  is  very  agreeable.  And  I 
now^  heardly  thank  you  for  this  letter  and  packet.  I  am  very  glad 
to  see  what  you  write  concerning  the  state  of  religion  in  the  Ne- 
therlands. But  I  believe  there  is  more  of  a  mixture  of  what  is 
bad  with  the  good,  that  appears  in  that  land,  than  Mr.  Kennedy, 
and  many  other  ministers  there,  are  awai'e  of;  and  that  they  will 
find,  that  the  consequences  of  their  not  carefully  and  critically  dis- 
tinguishing between  the  good  and  bad,  and  guarding  with  the  ut- 
most caution  and  diligence  against  the  latter,  will  prove  worse  than 
they  now  conceive  of.  By  your  account,  it  is  now  exactly  with 
Mr.  Kennedy,  as  it  was  with  many  pious  ministers  in  America,  in 
the  time  of  the  great  religious  moving  here.  They  looked  upon 
critical  enquiries,  into  the  difference  between  true  grace  and  its 
counterfeits,  or  at  least  a  being  very  busy  in  such  enquiries,  and 
spending  time  in  them,  to  be  impertinent  and  unseasonable ;  tend- 
ing rather  to  damp  the  w^ork  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  than  promote  it ; 
diverting  their  own  minds,  and  the  minds  of  others,  as  they  suppo- 
sed, from  that  to  which  God,  at  such  an  extraordinary  time,  did 
loudly  call  them  more  especially  to  attend.  The  cry  was,  O,  there 
is  no  danger ,  if  we  are  but  lively  in  religiqn,  and  full  of  God's 
Spirit,  and  live  by  faith,  of  being  misled !  If  we  do  but  follow 
God,  there  is  no  danger  of  being  led  wrong  !  '  Tis  the  cold,  car- 
nal and  lifeless,  that  are  most  likely  to  be  blind,  and  walk  in  dark- 
ness. Let  Us  press  forward,  and  not  stay  and  hinder  the  good 
work,  by  standing  and  spending  time  in  these  criticisms  and  carnal 
reasoning  !  etc.  etc.  This  was  the  language  of  many,  till  they  ran 
on  deep  into  the  wilderness,  and  were  taught  by  the  briars  and 
thorns  of  the  wilderness.  However,  'tis  no  wonder  that  divines  in 
Europe  will  not  lay  very  much  weight  on  the  admonitions  they  re- 
ceive from  so  obscure  a  part  of  the  world.  Other  parts  of  the 
church  of  God,  must  be  taught  as  we  have  been  ;  and  when  they 
see  and  feel,  then  they  will  belibve.  Not  that  I  apprehend  there 
is  in  any  measure  so  much  enthusiasm  and  disorder,  mixed  with  the 
work  in  Holland,  as  was  in  many  parts  of  America,  in  the  time  of* 
the  last  revival  of  religion  here.  But  yet  I  believe  the  work  must 
be  more  pure,  and  the  people  more  thoroughly  guarded  from  his 
iviles.,  who  beguiled  Eve  through  his  subtilty,  and  who  corrupts  the 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  509 

iiiincls  of  zealous  people  from  the  simplicity  that  is  in  Christ,  before 
the  work  goes  on  to  a  general  conquest,  and  is  maintained  in  its 
power  and  glory  for  a  great  length  of  time.  But  God  will  have  his 
owni  rvay  : — "  Who,  being  his  counsellour,  hath  taught  Him  ?"  We 
must  expect  confusion  and  uproar,  before  we  have  that  abundance 
of  peace  and  tfuth,  which  the  Scriptures  speak  of:  many  must  run 
to  and  fro,  and  knowledge  will  be  increased, 

"The  Dutch  ministers  in  America,  w^hom  you  mention,  whom 
I  have  acquaintance  with,  are  some  of  the  younger  ministers,  and 
such  as  were  born  in  America,  though  several  of  them  have  had 
part  of  their  education  in  Holland.  I  have  not  acquaintance  enough 
with  them,  to  know  their  sentiments,  particularly,  about  those  corrupt 
mixtures  above  mentioned,  and  the  care  which  is  to  be  used  in 
guarding  against  them.  However,  'tis  not  very  likely,  if  some  of 
them  should  write  to  their  brethren  in  Holland,  that  their  letters 
would  have  more  influence  upon  them  than  letters  from  you,  and 
some  others  of  the  ministers  of  Scotland.  Nevertheless,  there  is  a 
prospect,  that  there  will  in  time  be  very  happy  effects  of  the  grow- 
ing ccqugintance  and  union,  there  is  between  a  very  considerable 
number  of  very  hopeful  and  pious  Dutch  ministers,  in  the  province 
of  New-York  and  New-Jersey,  and  many  English  and  Scotch 
ministers  in  America.  The  number  of  well  disposed  Dutch  mi- 
nisters in  these  provinces,  has  of  late  remarkably  increased;  so  that 
I  think  when  they  meet  together  in  their  Coetus,  tliey  make  the 
major  part.  Some  of  the  elder  ministers  seem  to  be  of  quite  con- 
trary sentiment  and  disposition,  not  appearing  friendly,  as  the  others, 
to  what  they  esteem  the  power  of  religion,  nor  approving  of  awa- 
kening, searching,  strict  and  experimental,  preaching :  which  has 
occasioned  various  contests  among  them.  However,  the  stricter 
sort  being  the  prevaihng  part,  are  like  to  carry  the  day. 

"  The  Dutch  churches  in  these  provinces,  have  hitherto  been  so 
dependent  on  the  Classis  in  Holland,  that,  whenever  any  among 
them  have  been  educated  for  the  ministry,  and  any  churches  have 
been  desirous  of  their  administrations,  they  could  not  receive  their 
orders  on  this  side  of  the  w^ater,  but  have  been  obliged  to  go  to 
Holland  for  ordination  :  which  has  been  a  great  incumbrance,  that 
has  attended  the  setdement  of  ministers,  among  them,  and  has  un- 
doubtedly been  one  occasion  of  such  multitudes  of  the  Dutch,  be- 
ing wholly  without  ministers.  Application  was  made  not  long  since, 
through  the  influence  of  the  forementioned  serious  young  ministers, 
(as  I  take  it,)  by  the  Coetus  here,  to  the  Classis  in  Holland,  for 
their  consent,  that  they  might  unite  themselves  to  the  Presbyterian 
Synod  of  New- York,  which  now  consists  of  English  and  Scotch. 
But  the  success  of  their  application  was  prevented,  by  a  letter 
written  by  one  of  the  elder  ministers,  remonstrating  against  it,  very 
falsely  representing  the  New- York  Synod,  as  no  proper  Presbyte- 
rian Synod,  but  rather  a  company  of  Independents.     On  which, 


510  LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARD5. 

the  Classis  of  Holland  advised  them,  by  no  means,  to  unite  them- 
selves with  that  Synod. 

"The  last  September  I  went  a  journey  into  New-Jersey,  and  had 
opportunity,  in  my  journey,  of  seeing  some  of  these  young  ministers, 
and  conversing  with  them  on  the  subject.  They  seem  resolved,  by 
some  means  or  other,  to  disengage  themselves  and  their  churches, 
from  the  forementioned  great  incumbrance,  of  being  obliged  to  cross 
the  ocean,  for  the  ordination  of  every  minister.  I  was  much  grati- 
fied, during  the  little  opportunity  1  had,  to  observe  the  agreeable 
disposition  of  these  ministers. 

"  There  were,  also,  many  other  things  I  had  opportunity  to  ob- 
serve, in  those  parts,  which  were  very  agreeable.  I  was  there,  at 
the  time  of  the  public  Commencement  in  the  College,  and  the 
time  of  the  meeting  of  the  Trustees  of  the  College,  the  time  of  the 
meeting  ofthe  Correspondents  of  the  Society  for  propagating  christ- 
ian knowledge,  and  the  time  of  the  meeting  of  the  New- York  Sy- 
nod J  so  that  I  had  opportunity  to  converse  with  ministers  from 
Long-Island,  New- York,  New-Jersey,  Pennsylvania,  and  Virginia. 
The  college  is  in  flourishing  circumstances ;  increases  apace ;  and 
IS  happily  regulated.  The  Trustees  seem  engaged  to  their  utmost 
to  promote  learning,  virtue,  and  true  religion,  in  it ;  and  none  more  so 
than  Governour  Belcher ;  who  is  the  President  of  the  Trustees,  and 
v/as  at  the  Commencement,  and  at  the  Trustees'  meeting.  But  they 
very  much  want  farther  supplies,  for  the  convenient  support  of  the 
college.  I  had  considerable  opportunity  to  converse  with  Govern- 
our Belcher  ;  and  was  several  times  at  his  house  at  Elizabethtown. 
He  labours  under  many  of  the  infirmities  of  age,  but  savours  much 
of  a  spirit  of  religion,  and  seems  very  desirous  of  doing  all  the  good 
he  can,  while  he  lives.  The  New-York  Synod  is  in  flourishing 
circumstances  :  much  more  so  than  the  Philadelphia  Synod.  They 
have  the  greatest  body  of  ministers  now,  and  increase  much  faster 
than  the  other.  They  are  in  higher  credit  with  the  people  in  al- 
most all  parts,  and  are  chiefly  sought  to  for  supplies  by  distant  con- 
gregations. With  respect  to  the  proceedings  of  the  Correspond- 
ents, they  have  dismissed  Mr.  Horton  from  his  mission  on  Long- 
Island,  and  he  is  about  to  settle  in  a  congregation  in  New-Jersey. 
He  was  dismissed,  by  re?soii  of  his  very  much  failing  of  employ- 
ment :  many  of  the  clans  of  Indians,  he  used  to  preach  to,  having 
dwindled  away,  by  death  or  dispersion,  and  there  being  but  littie 
prospect  of  success  among  others  that  remain,  and  some  being  so 
situated,  that  they  may  conveniently  be  taken  care  of  by  other 
ministers.  The  Correspondents  have  it  in  their  view  to  employ 
the  money,  by  which  he  used  to  be  supported,  to  support  a  mission 
among  the  Six  Nations ;  after  they  have  found  a  suitable  person  to 
undertake  the  business  of  such  a  mission,  and  he  is  fitted  for  it  by 
learning  tiie  language.  They  used  endeavours  to  obtain  a  suitable 
person  for  the  business,  in  New-Jersev :  but,  meeting  with  no  sue- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  511 

€ess,  they  voted  to  empower  Mr.  Bellamy,  Mr.  Hopkins,  of  Shef- 
field, and  myself,  to  procure  a  suitable  person,  if  we  can  find  such 
an  one,  in  New-England,  for  the  present,  to  come  and  live  at 
Stockbridge,  to  be  here  learning  the  IMohawk  language  with  Mr. 
Hawley,  our  school-master  for  the  Mohawks,  to  fit  him  for  the 
mission.  Persons  proper  to  be  employed,  and  such  as  may  be  ob- 
tained, are  very  scarce  ;  and  'tis  doubtful  whether  we  shall  be  able 
to  obtain  one. 

"  There  is  a  very  dark  cloud,  that  at  present  attends  the  affair,  re- 
lating to  the  Indians  at  Stockbridge,  occasioned  very  much  by  one 
of  the  Agents  for  the  Province,  (who  lives  at  Stockbridge,)  pur- 
suing measures,  very  contrary  to  the  measures  of  the  Commission- 
ers of  the  Society  in  London.  The  opposition  is  maintained,  not. 
with  a  small  degree  of  stiffness  and  resolution ;  and  the  contest  is 
become  so  great,  that  it  has  brought  things  into  very  great  confusion. 
This  gentleman  is  a  man  of  some  note  ;  and  his  wife's  relations 
earnestly  engage  with  him,  and  many  of  them  are  persons  of  con- 
siderable figure  in  the  country.  The  Commissioners  all  very 
much  dislike  his  conduct.  This  contest  occasions  no  misunder- 
standings among  the  people  in  Stockbridge,  in  general :  all,  ex- 
cepting those  nearly  related  to  the  family,  both  English  and  Indi- 
ans, are  happily  united  to  me  and  my  family.  It  would  be  very 
tedious  for  me  to  write,  and  for  you  to  read,  all  the  particulars  of 
this  uncomfortable  affair.  The  commissioners  are  exerting  them- 
selves to  relieve  us  of  tliis  calamity  5  and  it  is  probable  they  will  be 
successful. 

"  I  thank  you  for  the  account  you  give  of  some  valuable  books  pub- 
Hshed :  I  desire  you  would  continue  to  favour  me  in  this  manner.  I 
began  the  last  August,  to  write  a  litde  on  the  Arminian  controversy, 
but  was  soon  broke  off:  and  such  have  been  my  extraordinary  avoca- 
tions and  hindrances,  that  I  have  not  had  time  to  set  pen  to  paper 
about  this  matter  since.  But  I  hope  that  God,  in  his  providence,  will 
favour  me  with  opportunity  to  prosecute  the  design.  And  I  desire 
your  prayers,  that  God  would  assist  me  in  it,  and  in  all  the  work  1 
am  called  to,  and  enable  me  to  conduct  my  life  to  his  glory  and 
acceptance,  under  all  difficulties  and  trials. 

"  My  wife  joins  with  me,  in  most  hearty  and  affectionate  saluta- 
tion to  you,  and  Mrs.  Erskine. 
"I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 
"  brother  and  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards. 

"  P.  S.  I  propose  with  this,  to  send  you  Mr.  Hobart's  Second 
Address  to  the  members  of  the  Episcopal  Church  in  New-England, 
and  my  Answer  to  Mr.  Williams,  which  I  would  desire  you  to  give 


512  LUK    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

your  neighbours,  my  correspondents,  opportunity  to  read,  if  they 
desire  it." 

TSE  correspondence  of  Mr.  Edwards  and  the   Rev.  Thomas 
Gillespie  of  Carnock,  in  Scotland,  has  akeady  interested  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reader.     This  Gentleman  was  born  in  1708,  pursued 
his  theological  studies  under  Dr.  Doddridge,  and  w  as  ordained  and 
settled   in    the    parish  of  Carnock,   in    1741.      He   was  a  faith- 
ful and  indefatigable  minister. — "  I  never,    (says   Dr.    Erskine, 
who  was  several  months  his  stated  hearer  at  Carnock,  and  often 
heard  his  occasional  efforts  in  other  places,)  sat  under  a  minister  bet- 
ter calculated  to  awaken  the  thoughtless  and  secure,  to  caution  con- 
vinced sinners  against  what  would  stifle  their  convictions  and  pre- 
vent their  issuing  in  conversion,  and  to  point  out  the  differences, 
between  vital  Christianity  and  specious,  counterfeit  appearances  of 
it." — His  popularity  and  usefulness,  were  very  great,  not  only  in 
his  own  parish,  but  in  Edinburgh  and  the  west  of  Scotland.     In 
1752,  an  event  occurred,  which  forms  an  aera  in  the  Ecclesiasti- 
cal history  of  that  countiy.     The  Rev.   Andrew  Richardson,  of 
Broughton,  was  presented  to  the  charge  of  the  town  of  Inverkei- 
thing,  by  the  lay  patron  of  the  perish — the  individual  who  had  that 
living  in  his  gift. — The  inhabitants  refused  to  receive  him  as  their 
minister.    The  case  was   appealed  from  court  to  court,   until  the 
General  Assembly,  in  May,  1752,  directed  the  Presbytery  of  Dun- 
fermline to  admit  Mr.  R.  to  the  charge  of  Inverkeithing,  and  ap- 
pointed Mr.  Gillespie  to  preside  on  the  occasion.     Mr.  Gillespie, 
and  several  others  in  the  Presbytery,  had  conscientious  scruples  on 
the  subject  of  lay-patronage,  and  fully  believed  that  no  one,  on  the 
principles  of  the  Gospel,  could  have  any  right  to  place  a  clergy- 
man over  a  parish,  but  the  people  themselves.*     He  therefore, 
and  those  who  thought  with  him,  declined  obedience  to  the  man- 
date :  and  while  they  were  subjected  to  various  ecclesiastical  cen- 
sures, he  was  deposed   from  the  ministry,  and  removed  from  the 
parish  of  Carnock.     When  called  to  the  bar,  to  receive  his  sen- 
tence, he  replied,  "  Moderator,  I  receive  this  sentence  of  the  Ge- 
neral Assembly,  with  reverence  and  awe.     But  1  rejoice,  that  it  is 
given  to  me,  on  the  behalf  of  Christ,  not  only  to  believe   on  his 
uame,  but  to  suffer  for  his  sake." 

For  about  a  year,  he  preached  to  his  people,  out  of  doors,  ho- 
ping that  the  sentence  would  be  reversed  ;  at  the  close  of  which, 
a  church  having  been  purchased  for  him  in  Dunfermline,  a  short 
distance  from  Carnock,  he  preached  there,  as  an  independent, 


*  Lay-patronage  was  wholly  rejected  by  the  Scotch  Retbrmers,  and  was  not 
iutroduced  by  law,  until  1711.  For  a  long  period,  the  law  was  regarded  as  a 
public  ^riGvance,  but  is  now  submitted  to. 


Llt^a    OF    PRESIDEItT    EDWARDS.  51S 

about  six  years,  unconnected  with  any  associate  in  the  ministry. 
In  1758,  he  united  with  the  Rev.  Thomas  Boston,  Jr.,  and  formed 
a  new  establishment,  called.  The  Presbytery  of  Relief  ;  to  which 
some  dissenting  ministers  of  England  soon  acceded.  The  congrega- 
tions at  present  connected  with  them,  and  known,  as  an  ecclesiastical 
body,  by  the  name  of  the  Relief,  are  65  in  number,  are  found 
in  all  the  principal  towns,  and  many  of  the  country  parishes,  of 
Scotland,  and  are  computed  to  consist  of  towards  60,000  individu- 
als.* They  provide  ministers  for  the  inhabitants  of  those  parishes, 
which  do  not  submit  to  ministers  introduced  by  lay  patronage  ;  and 
readily  admit  to  mmisterial  and  church  communion,  evangelical 
ministers  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  and  of  the  Church  of  Eng- 
land. 

The  correspondents  of  IMr.  Edwards,  had  forwarded  to  him  va- 
rious publications  relative  to  the  Deposidon  of  Mr.  Gillespie  ;  and 
the  views  which  he  formed  with  regard  to  it,  as  expressed  in  the 
following  Letter,  while  they  must,  at  the  time,  have  been  consoling 
and  supporting  to  the  excellent  man,  to  whom  they  were  sent,  will 
also  probably  harmonize  with  those  of  every  reader  of  these 
pages. 

"  To  the  Rev.  Thomas  Gillespie,  Carnock. 

"  Stockbridge,  J\^ov.  24,  1752. 
*'  Rev.  and  dear  brother, 

"In  letters  and  pamphlets,  lately  forwarded  to  me,  by  some  of 
my  correspondents  in  Scotland,  I  have  received  the  afiecting  and 
surprising  account  of  your  deposition,  for  not  assisdng  in  the  settle- 
ment of  Mr.  Richardson,  at  Inverkeithing.  The  circumstances  of 
which  affair  seem  to  be  such,  as  abundantly  manifest  your  cause  to 
be  good ;  at  the  same  time  that  they  plainly  show  the  persecuting 
spirit,  with  which  you  have  been  proceeded  against.  It  is  strange, 
that  a  Protestant  Church  should  condemn  and  depose  one  of  her 
ministers,  for  conscientiously  declining  to  act  in  a  forced  settlement 
of  a  minister,  over  a  congregation  that  have  not  chosen  him  as  their 
pastor,  but  are  utterly  averse  to  his  administrations,  at  least  as  to  a 
stated  attendance  upon  them.  It  is  to  be  wondered  at,  that  such  a 
church,  at  this  time  of  day,  after  the  cause  of  liberty  in  matters  of 
conscience  has  been  so  abundantly  defended,  should  arrogate  to 
herself  such  a  kind  of  authority  over  the  consciences  of  both  min- 
isters and  people,  and  use  it  in  such  a  manner,  by  such  severity,  to 
establish  that,  which  is  not  only  contrary  to  the  liberty  of  christians, 
wherewith  Christ  has  made  them  free  ;  but  so  directly  contrary  to  her 
own  professed  principles,  acts  and  resolutions,  entered  on  public  re- 
cord.   The  several  steps  of  this  proceeding,  and  some  singular  meas- 

*  "Mr,  Gillespie  died,  Jan.  19th,  1774,  in  serenity  of  mind,  and  good  liope 

through  grace.'* For  the  preceding  facts,  I  am  indebted  to  the  Quarterly 

Magazine. 

Vol.  I.  65 


514  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

ures  taken,  and  the  hastiness  and  vehemence  of  the  proceeding,  are 
such,  as  savour  very  strongly  of  the  very  spirit  of  persecution,  and 
must  be  greatly  to  the  dishonour  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  ;  and  are 
such,  as  will  naturally  engage  the  friends  of  God's  people,  abroad  in 
the  world,  in  your  favour,  as  suffering  very  injuriously.     It  is  wonder- 
ful, that  a  church,  which  has  itself  suffered  so  much  by  persecu- 
tion, should  be  guilty  of  so  much  persecution.     This  proceeding 
gives  reason  to  suspect,  that  the  Church  of  Scotland,  which  was 
once  so  famous,  is  not  what  it  once  was.     It  appears  probable  to 
me,  at  this  distance,  that  there  is  something  else  at  the  bottom,  be- 
sides a  zeal  to  uphold  the  authority  of  the  church.     Perhaps  many 
of  the  clergy  of  the  Church  of  Scotland  have  their  minds  secretly 
infected  with  those  lax  principles  of  the  new  divinity,  and  have  im- 
bibed the  liberal  doctrines,  as  they  are  accounted,  which  are  so 
much  in  vogue  at  the  present  day,   and  so  contrary  to  the  strict, 
mysterious,  spiritual,  soul-humbling  principles  of  our  forefathers.     I 
have  observed,  that  these  modern  fashionable  opinions,  however 
called  noble  and  liberal,  are  commonly  attended,  not  only  with  a 
haughty  contempt,  but  an  inward  malignant  bitterness  of  heart,  to- 
wards all  the  zealous  professors  and  defenders  of  the  contrary  spi- 
ritual principles,  that  do  so  nearly  concern  the  vitals  of  religion, 
and  the  power  of  experimental  godliness.     This,  be  sure,  has  been 
the  case  in  this  land.     I  have  known  many  gentlemen,  (especially 
in  the  ministry,)  tainted  with  these  liberal  principles  ;  who,  though 
none  seem  to  be  such  warm  advocates  as  they,  for  liberty  and  free- 
dom of  thought,  or  condemn  a  narrow  and  persecuting  spirit  so 
much  as  they ;  yet,  in  the  course  of  things,  have  made  it  manifest, 
that  they  themselves  had  no  small  share  of  a  persecuting  spirit. 
They  were,  indeed,  against  any  body's  restraining  their  liberties, 
and  pretending  to  controul  them  in  their  thinking  and  professing  as 
they  please  ;  and  that  is  what  they  mean,  truly,  w^hen  they  plead  for 
liberty.     But  they  have  that  inward  enmity  of  spirit  towards  those 
others  mentioned,  that,  if  they  see  an  opportunity  to  persecute  them 
under  some  good  cloak,   and  with   some   false  pretext,  they  will 
eagerly  embrace  it,  and  proceed  with  great  severity  and  vehemence. 
Thus  far,  perhaps,  if  the  truth  were  known,  it  would  appear,  that 
some  of  your  most  strenuous  persecutors  hate  you  much  more  for 
something  else,  than  they  do  for  your  not  obeying  the  orders  of  the 
Genera]  Assembly.     I  do  not  pretend  to  know  how  the  case  is.     I 
only  speak  from  what  I  have  seen  and  found,  here  in  America,  in 
cases  soniewhat  similar.     However,  it  is  beyond  doubt,  that  this 
proceeding  will  stand  on  the  records  of  future  time,  for  tlie  lasting 
reproach  of  your  persecutors;  and  your  conduct,  for  which  you 
have  suffered,  will  be  to  your  lasting  honour  in  the  Church  of  God. 
And  what  is  much  more,   that,  which  has  been  condemned  in  you 
by  man,  and  for  which  you  have  suffered  from  him,  is  doubtless 
approved  by  God,  and  I  trust  you  will  have  a  glorious  reward  from 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  515 

him.     For  the  cause,  you  suffer  in,  is  the  cause  of  God ;  and  if 
God  be  for  us,  who  can  be  against  us?    If  he  justifies,  what  need 
we  care  who  condemns  ?  Not  only  is  the  mercy  of  God,  dear  bro- 
ther, manifested,  in  its  being  granted  you  to  suffer  for  his  sake,  but 
his  mercy  is  to  be  taken  notice  of,  in  many  of  the  circumstances  of 
this  suffering.     Particularly,  that  he  has  excited  so  many  to  appear 
for  you  :  that  you  had  the  major  part  of  the  Presbytery,  which  you 
belong  to,  with  you  in  the  affair,  though  God  has  honoured  you 
above  all  the  rest,  in  caUing  you  to  suffer  for  his  name :  that  the 
major  part  of  the  commission  of  the  General  Assembly  did  in  effect 
approve  of  the  conduct  of  the  Presbytery,  judging  it  no  cen- 
surable fault :   that  no  greater  part  of  the  Assembly  had  a  hand 
in  your  deposition  :  that  so  many  of  God's  people  have,  on  this  oc- 
casion, very  boldly  appeared  to  befriend  you,  as  suffering  in  a 
righteous  cause,  openly  condemning  the  conduct  of  your  most  bit- 
ter prosecutors,  and  testifying  an  abhorrence  of  their  conduct :  and 
that  many  have  appeared,  liberally  to  contribute  to  your  outward 
support ;  so  tliat,  by  what  I  understand,  you  are  likely  to  be  no  loser 
in  that  respect ;  by  which,  your  enemies  will,  perhaps,  be  entirely 
disappointed.     And,  above  all,  that  you  have  been  enabled,  through 
the  whole  of  this  affair,  to  conduct  yourself  with  so  much  christian 
meekness,  decency,  humility,  proper  deference  to  authority,  and 
composure  and  fortitude  of  mind;  which  is  an  evident  token  that 
God  will  appear  for  you,  and  also,  that  he  will  appear  against  your 
enemies.     When  I  received  your  kind  letter,  soon  after  my  dis- 
mission from  Northampton,  so  full  of  expressions  of  sympathy  to- 
wards me  under  what  I  suffered,  I  little  thought  of  your  being 
brought  so  soon  under  sufferings  so  similar.     But,  seeing  God  has 
so  ordered  it  in  his  providence,  my  prayer  and  hope  is,  that  he 
would  abundantly  reward  your  sympathy  in  my  case.     "  Blessed 
are  the  merciful,  for  they  shall  obtain  mercy. ^^ 

"  As  to  myself,  I  still  meet  with  difficulties  in  my  new  station,  w^hich 
arise  partly  from  private  views,  (as  it  is  to  be  feared,)  of  some  par- 
ticular persons  of  some  note  and  distinction,  who  are  concerned 
with  the  affairs  of  tlie  Mohawks  here,  and  partly  from  the  same 
spirit,  and  the  same  persons,  and  others  nearly  related  to  them, 
who  fomented  the  contention  with  me  at  Northampton.  However, 
all  tlie  people,  both  Indians  and  English,  except  the  very  few  of 
the  abovementioned  connection,  are  firmly  united  to  me  :  and  the 
Commissioners  in  Boston,  who  are  my  constituents,  and  from  whom 
I  have  my  support,  are  altogether  on  my  side  ;  and  are  endeavour- 
ing to  the  utmost,  to  remove  the  difficulties  that  attend  our  affairs ; 
by  which  the  cause  of  religion  here,  especially  among  the  Mohawks, 
suffers  much  more  than  I  do,  or  am  like  to  do,  in  my  personal  and 
temporal  interests.  These  difficulties,  which  have  arisen,  have 
indeed,  almost  brought  the  Mohawk  affair  to  ruin,  which  the  last 
year  was  attended  with  so  glorious  a  prospect.     It  would  be  very 


il6  LIF*    OF    PllESlDKNT    ID  WARDS. 

tedious  to  relate  the  particulars  of  this  unhappy  affair.  I  think  that 
God,  by  these  sufferings,  calls  me  to  expect  no  other,  than  to  meet  with 
difficidties  and  trials  while  in  this  world.  And  what  am  I  better 
than  my  fathers,  that  I  should  expect  to  fare  better  in  the  world, 
than  the  generality  of  Christ's  followers  in  all  past  generations. 
May  all  our  trials  be  for  our  justification,  aid  our  being  more  and 
more  meet  for  our  Master's  use,  and  prepared  to  enter  into  the 
joy  of  our  Lord,  in  a  w^orld  where  all  tears  shall  be  wiped  from 
the  eyes  of  God's  people.  Let  us,  dear  Sir,  earnestly  pray  one 
for  another,  that  it  may  be  thus  with  us;  and  that,  however  we 
may  be  called  to  labour,  and  to  suffer,  we  may  see  peace  on  God's 
Israel,  and  hereafter  eternally  glory  and  triumph  with  his  inheri- 
tance. God  has  of  late  mercifully  preserved  my  wife  and  young- 
est daughter,  in  time  of  very  sore  and  dangerous  sickness,  and  re- 
stored them  again.  My  eldest  daughter  has  also  been  sick,  and  is 
restored  in  a  considerable  degree. 

"  The  Nordiampton  People  remain  in  sorrowful  circumstances, 
destitute  of  a  settled  minister,  and  without  any  prospect  of  a  set- 
tlement ;  having  met  with  many  disappointments.  But  all  don't  as 
yet  seem  to  be  effectual,  to  bring  them  to  a  suitable  temper  of 
mind.  I  much  desire  to  hear  from  you,  and  to  be  informed  of 
your  present  circumstances. 

^'  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  affectionate  Brother 
"  in  the  Gospel, 

*' Jonathan  Edwards. 

With  the  preceding  letter  was  sent  the  following  to  Mr. 
M'Culloch. 

'' Stockbridge,  JVov.  24,  1752. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  letter  of  March  3,  1752,  which  I  receiv- 
ed diis  fall.  I  thank  you  for  yonr  friendly  and  instructive  observa- 
tions, on  God's  dealings  with  me  and  my  family.  Though  God's 
dispensations  towards  me,  have  been  attended  with  some  distin- 
guishing trials,  yet  the  end  of  the  Lord  has  been  very  gracious. 
He  has  ever  manifested  himself  very  piuful  and  of  tender  mercy,in  the 
midst  of  difficulties  w^e  have  met  with,  in  merciful  circumstances 
with  vyhich  they  have  been  attended,  and  also  in  the  event  of  them. 
Our  circumstances,  here  at  Stockbridge,  are  in  many  respects  com- 
fortable. We  here  live  in  peace  and  friendship,  with  the  generality 
of  the  people.  But  we  are  not  without  our  difficukies  and  troubles 
here.  The  Indian  affair,  which  die  last  year  was  attended  widi  so 
pleasing  and  glorious  a  prospect,  has  since  been  unspeakably  em- 
barrassed, through  the  particular  schemes  of  certain  individuals, 
who  are  opposed,  in  their  counsels  and  measures,  to  the  Commis- 


LIFE    OF    PKESlDEtNT    EDWAUDS.  517 

sioners  of  the  Society  in  London,  and  are,  to  their  utmost,  striving  to 
accomplish  their  designs  in  opposition  to  them,  and  in  this  great 
contest  I  am  looked  on  as  a  person  not  a  little  obnoxious.  They 
belong  to  a  family  of  some  note,  who  vigourously  abetted  and  set 
forward  my  opposers  at  Northampton,  and  were  a  chief  occasion  of 
my  removal  from  that  town ;  to  whom  my  settlement  at  Stock- 
bridge  was  very  grievous,  who  now  take  occasion  to  exert  them- 
selves to  the  utmost  to  weaken  my  interest  and  influence ;  and  I 
have  all  reason  to  think,  would,  if  it  were  possible,  undermine  me, 
and  procure  my  removal  far  hence.  iVIany  endeavours  have  been 
used  to  disafFect  my  people  towards  me,  but  all  in  vain.  They  are 
all  firmly  united  to  me,  excepting  the  forementioned  family.  En- 
deavours have  been  used  also,  to  disafFect  some  of  the  Commis- 
sioners; but  wholly  in  vain.  They  seem  to  have  their  eyes  very 
wide  open,  as  to  their  particular  designs  and  schemes,  and  the  true 
spring  of  their  opposition.  We  hope  for  an  end  of  this  lament- 
able contest  before  long.  But  its  effects,  hitherto,  have  been  very 
sorrowful,  especially  with  regard  to  the  Mohawks.  Some  other 
things  have  happened,  which  have  much  prejudiced  the  cause  of 
religion  among  the  Indians ;  and,  among  other  things,  the  discovery 
of  the  famous  Tartarian  root,  described  in  Chambers'  dictionary, 
called  Ginseng,  which  was  found  in  our  w^oods  the  last  summer, 
and  is  since  found  in  the  woods,  in  many  of  these  western  parts  of 
New  England,  and  in  the  country  of  the  Six  Nations.  The  traders 
in  Albany  have  been  eager  to  purchase  all,  that  they  could,  of  this 
root,  to  send  to  England ;  where  they  make  great  profit  by  it. 
This  has  occasioned  our  Lidians  of  all  sorts,  young  and  old,  to 
spend  abundance  of  time  in  wandering  about  the  woods,  and  some- 
times to  a  great  distance,  in  the  neglect  of  public  worship,  and  of 
their  husbandry ;  and  also,  in  going  much  to  Albany,  to  sell 
their  roots,  (which  proves  worse  to  them  than  their  going  into  the 
woods,)  where  they  are  always  much  in  the  way  of  temptation  and 
drunkenness ;  especially  when  they  have  money  in  their  pockets. 
The  consequence  has  been,  that  many  of  them  have  laid  out  their 
money,  which  they  have  got  for  their  roots  of  Ginseng,  for  rum  ; 
wherewith  tliey  have  intoxicated  themselves. 

"  God  has  been  very  gracious  to  my  family  of  late,  when  some 
of  them  have  been  visited  with  sore  sickness.  My  wife  has  lately 
been  very  dangerously  sick,  so  as  to  be  brought  to  the  very  brink 
of  the  grave.  She  had  very  little  expectation  of  life,  but  seemed  to  be 
assisted  to  an  unweaned  resignation  to  the  divine  will,  and  an  un- 
shaken peace  and  joy  in  God,  in  the  expectation  of  a  speedy  de- 
parture. But  God  was  pleased  to  preserve  her,  and  mercifully  to 
restore  her  to  a  pretty  good  state  of  heahh.  IVIy  youngest  daugli- 
ter  also,  who  has  been  a  very  infirm  child,  was  brought  nigh  unto 
death,  by  a  sore  fit  of  sickness,  and  is  now  also  restored  to  her  for- 
mer state.     My  daughter  Parsons,  my  eldest  daughter,  who  with 


518  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

her  husband  has  removed  from  Northampton,  and  dwells  in  Stock- 
bridge,  has  also  very  lately  been  very  sick,  but  is  in  a  considerable 
measure  restored.  My  daughter  Esther's  marriage,  with  President 
Burr,  of  Newark,  seems  to  be  very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  min- 
isters and  people  in  tliose  parts,  and  also  of  our  friends  in  Boston, 
and  other  parts  of  New  England. 

"  As  to  the  state  of  religion  in  America,  I  have  but  little  to  write 
that  is  comfortable  ;  but  there  seems  to  be  better  appearances  in 
some  other  colonies,  than  in  New  England.  When  I  was  lately 
in  New  Jersey,  in  the  time  of  the  Synod  there,  I  was  informed  of 
some  small  movings  and  revivals  in  some  places  on  Long  Island, 
and  New  Jersey.  I  tliere  had  the  comfort  of  a  short  interview 
with  Mr.  Davies  of  Virginia,  and  was  much  pleased  with  him  and  his 
conversation.  He  appears  to  be  a  man  of  very  solid  understanding, 
discreet  in  his  behaviour,  and  polished  and  gentlemanly  in  liis  man- 
ners, as  well  as  fervent  and  zealous  in  religion.  He  gave  an  account 
of  the  probability  of  the  settlement  of  a  Mr.  Todd,  a  young  man  of 
good  learning  and  of  a  pious  disposition,  in  a  part  of  Virginia  near  to 
him.  Mr.  Davies  represented  before  the  Synod,  the  great  necessities 
of  the  people,  in  the  back  parts  of  Virginia,  where  multitudes  were  re- 
markably awakened  and  reformed  several  years  ago,  and  ever  since 
have  been  thirsting  after  the  ordinances  of  God.  The  people  are 
chiefly  from  Ireland,  of  Scotch  extraction.  The  Synod  appointed 
two  men,  to  go  down  and  preach  among  these  people  ;  viz.  Mr. 
Henry,  a  Scotchman,  who  has  lately  taken  a  degree  at  New-Jersey 
College,  and  Mr.  Greenman,  the  young  man,  who  was  educated  at 
the  charge  of  Mr.  David  Brainerd. 

"  The  people  of  Northampton  are  in  sorrowful  circumstances, 
are  still  destitute  of  a  minister,  and  have  met  with  a  long 
series  of  disappointments,  in  their  attempts  for  a  re-settlement  of 
the  ministry  among  them.  My  opposers  have  had  warm  conten- 
tions among  themselves.  Of  late,  they  have  been  wholly  destitute 
<i>f  any  body, to  preach  steadily  among  them.  They  sometimes  meet  to 
read  and  pray  among  themselves,  and  at  other  times  set  travellers 
or  transient  persons  to  preach,  that  are  hardly  fit  to  be  employed. 

"  My  wife  joins  with  me,  in  most  respectful  salutations  to  you  and 
yours.  Desiring  your  prayers,  that  God  would  be  witli  us  in  all 
our  wanderings,  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world, 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  most  affectionate  brother,  in  the  labours  of 
the  gospel,  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  chagrin  and  mortification,  and  entire  loss  of  influence  and 
respect,  consequent  upon  the  indiscreet  attempt  to  force  Mr.  Ed- 
wards from  Stockbridge,  by  buying  out  all  the  English  inhabitants, 
and  upon  its  utter  discomfiture,  had,  in  its  connection  with  die  in- 
firmities of  age,  such  an  effect  upon  the  individual  who  made  it, 
that  he  was,  soon  after,  induced  to  part  with  his  property  in  tlia  t 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  519 

town,  and  remove  to  a  distance.  His  children,  though  somewhat  dis- 
heartened by  so  untoward  an  event,  and  now  assured  that,  if  help 
came  to  them,  it  could  not  come  from  Stockbridge  ;  appear,  howe- 
ver, to  have  resolved,  that  they  would  not  lose  all  their  labour,  and 
all  their  hopes,  without  a  struggle.  The  Commissioners  in  Boston, 
of  the  Society  in  London,  were  now  to  a  man,  firmly  opposed  to 
them,  and  resolved  to  resist  them  to  the  utmost.  But  dieir  kins- 
man, who  was  a  member  of  the  Society  in  London,  was  well  ac- 
quainted with  its  Board  of  Directors,  and  had  written  to  them  in 
behalf  of  his  cousin.  He  had  also  applied  to  Mr.  Hollis,  to  secure 
to  her  husband  the  management  of  his  benefactions.  The  latter 
gentleman,  also,  and  the  brother  of  the  former,  had  considerable  in- 
jfluence  at  Boston,  and  this  influence  had  now  been  exerted  for  a 
considerable  period,  to  procure  the  removal  of  Mr.  Edwards.  At 
the  opening  of  the  General  Court,  in  the  autumn,  all  the  influence 
and  all  the  efforts  of  the  family,  and  its  friends,  were  brought  to  bear 
on  this  one  point;,  and  representations,  most  unfavourable  to  the 
character  and  qualifications  of  Mr.  E.  were  made  to  many  of 
the  principal  men  of  the  province.  The  Annual  Report  of  the 
resident  trustee  was  drawn  up  with  a  direct  and  immediate  refe- 
rence to  this  subject,  and  was  read  to  the  Legislature,  when  Mr. 
Edwards  knew  nothing  of  its  contents,  and  when,  being  at  the  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  he,  of  course,  could  not  at  once 
answer  it.  Mr.  Woodbridge,  however,  was  on  the  spot,  as  were 
the  Honourable  Commissioners  of  the  Society  in  London,  and  they 
made  such  counteracting  statements,  as  the  circumstances  rendered 
proper.     Of  this  Report,  we  shall  take  notice  further  on. 

While  Mr.  Woodbridge  was  at  Boston,  he  was  informed,  and 
that  too  most  incautiously,  by  the  son  of  his  opponent,  who  went 
thither  in  company  vdth  his  brother-in-law,  the  autlior  of  the  Re- 
port, that  the  latter  had  solicited  his  Excellency,  Sir  William  Pep- 
perell,  Governour  of  the  Province,  to  write  to  England,  and  to  use 
his  influence,  with  the  Corporation  in  London,  that  Mr.  Edwards 
might  be  removed  from  the  office  of  missionary ;  and  that  Sir  Will- 
iam had  engaged  to  do  it.  On  this  information,  coming  so  directly, 
Mr.  Edwards  felt  himself  bound,  from  a  regard  to  his  own  reputa- 
tion, and  to  the  welfare  of  his  family,  to  address  Sir  William  on  the 
subject;  which  he  did  in  a  letter,  bearing  date  January  30,  1753."^ 
In  this  letter,  after  reciting  the  preceding  facts,  as  his  apology  for 
writing  it,  and  mentioning  the  great  disadvantage,  under  which  he 
lay,  in  attempting  to  defend  himself,  at  such  a  distance,  when  he 
did  not  know  what  had  been  said  to  his  prejudice,  he  states,  among 
other  things,  the  following :  That,  since  the  revival  of  religion  in 
1734,  the  family,  with  which  the  writer  of  the  Report  was  now 


*  This  letter  is  too  long  for  inseition. 


.^JO  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

connected,  had  discovered  an  unceasing  hostility  towards  himself, 
and  his  own  family,  notwithstanding  the  best  endeavours  he  could 
use  to  remove  It ;  that  they  deeply  engaged  themselves  in  the 
controversy,  at  Northampton,  on  the  side  of  his  opposers,  upholding, 
directing,  and  animating  them,  in  all  their  measures  ;   that  two  of 
them,  especially,  had  been  the  confidential  advisers  of  the  opposi- 
tion, in  procuring  his  dismission  ;  that  when  his  removal  to  Stock- 
bridge  was  proposed,  the  whole  family,  there  and  elsewhere*  oppo- 
sed it,  with  great  vehemence,  though,   when  they  saw  an  entire 
union  and  universal  engagedness  in  all  the  rest  of  the  inhabitants, 
both  English  and  Indians,  for  his  settlement  there,  and  that  there 
was  no  hope  of  preventing  it,  they  appeared,  as  though  their  minds 
w^ere  changed  ; — that  the  author  of  the  Report,   during  the  whole 
controversy  at  Northampton,  in   direct  opposition  to  the   family, 
with  which  he  was  now  connected,  had  remained  his  zealous  friend 
and   advocate ;  tliat  he  warmly  advocated  his  removal  to  Stock- 
bridge,  and  expressed  a  strong  desire  of  hving  under  his  ministry ; 
(for  the  evidence  of  wliich  facts,  he  refers  Sir  William  to  two  of 
the  most  respectable  gentlemen  In  the  Province  ;)  that  this  confi- 
dendal  friendship  lasted,  until  his  connection  with  that  family,  and 
then  was  suddenly  changed,  first  into  secret,  and  afterwards  into 
open,  opposition  ;  that  he  had  personally  blamed  him  for  preaching 
to  the  Mohawks,  as  intermeddling  ivith  what  was  none  of  his  busi- 
ness, although  Mr.  E.  produced  the  Note  of  the  Commissioners, 
expressly  desiring  him  to  preach  to  the  Mohawks,  until  a  distinct 
Missionary  ivas  appointed  over  them:  thatthe  reason,  openly  assigned 
for  the  very  great  resentment  of  the  author  of  the  Report,  and  that 
of  his  friends,  against  INIr.  Edwards,  was,  his  having  opposed  the  ap- 
pointment of  the  wife  of  that  gentleman,  as  teacher  of  the  female 
school,  although  he  neither  said  nor  did  any  thing  respecting  it,  until 
his  opinion  was  expressly  desired  in  writing  by  the  Commissioners, 
and  then,  that  he  opposed  it  on  the  ground,  that  it  w^as  impossible  for 
an  individual,  who  had  tlie  care  of  two  numerous  families  of  chil- 
dren, to  instruct  and  govern  the  children  of  an  Indian  school ; — and 
that,  as  to  his  qualifications  for  the  business  of  a  missionary,  \{\scommu- 
nicative faculty,  etc.,  which  were  now  denied,  he  could  only  appeal  to 
those,  who  had  the  best  opportunity  of  judging,  from  their  own  ex- 
perience,— particularly,  to  every  man,  w^oman  and  child,  in  Stock- 
bridge,  that  had  any  understanding,  both  English  and  Indians,  ex- 
cept the  families  of  the  opponent  of  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  of  the 
author  of  the  Report.     Mr.  Edwards  then  adds,   "  Now,  Sir,  I 
humbly  request,  that,  If  you  had  resolved  on  endeavouring  to  have 
me  removed  from  my  present  employment,  here,  you  would  once 
more  take  the  matter  into  your  impartial  consideration.     And,  1 
would  pray  you  to  consider.  Sir,   w^hat  disadvantages  I  am  under ; 
not-  knowing  what  has  been  said  of  me  in  conversation  ;  not  know- 
ing, therefore,  the  accusation,  or  what  to  answer  to.     The  ruin  of 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  521 

«iy  usefulness,  and  the  ruin  of  my  family,  which  has  greatly  suffer- 
ed in  years  past,  for  righteousness'  sake,  are  not  indeed  things  of 
equal  consideration  with  the  pubhc  good.  Yet  certainly,  1  should 
first  have  an  equal,  impartial  and  candid,  hearing,  before  I  am  exe- 
cuted for  the  public  good.  I  must  leave  the  matter,  dear  Sir,  to 
your  justice  and  christian  prudence  ;  committing  the  affair  to  him, 
who  knows  all  the  injuries  I  have  suffered,  and  how  wrongtully  I 
now  suffer,  and  who  is  the  Great  Protector  of  the  innocent  and  op- 
pressed ;  beseeching  him  to  guide  you  in  your  determination,  and 
mercifully  to  order  the  end." 

In  the  month  of  February,  1753,  the  building  erected  for  the  in- 
struction of  the  Mohawk  boys,  usually  denominated  the  boarding- 
school,  took  fire  in  a  way  unknown,  and,  with  considerable  furniture 
in  it,  was  reduced  to  ashes.  Mr.  Hawley  had  furnished  a  cham-' 
ber  in  the  building,  and  resided  in  it.  By  this  calamity,  he  lost 
his  clothing,  books  and  furniture.  It  was  supposed,  with  some 
grounds,  to  have  been  set  on  fire  by  design ;  and  its  destruction 
was,  for  the  time,  a  very  serious  interruption  to  the  labours  of  j\L-. 
Hawley. 

The  Report  of  the  Indian  Agent  was  read  early  in  the  session. 
It  contained  various  insinuations  and  charges,  of  a  general  nature, 
against  Mr.  Edwards.  Other  charges  were  busily  circulated 
among  the  members,  with  tlie  hope  of  procuring  his  removal.  But 
it  was  well  understood,  that  Mr.  Edwards  was  at  a  great  distance, 
and  had  had  no  notice  of  tliese  charges.  He  had  likewise  a  cha- 
racter for  integrity,  too  well  established,  to  be  shaken  by  general 
insinuations,  or  covert  attacks.  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  the  Com- 
missioners, w^ere  also  on  the  spot,  and  took  care  that  the  real  state 
of  things  should  be  made  known,  and  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Edwards 
adequately  defended.  So  effectually  and  satisfactorily  was  this 
done,  that,  when  Mr.  Edwards  received  a  copy  of  the  Report  by 
Mr.  Woodbridge,  he  appears  also  to  have  been  apprised,  by  his 
fi-iends  in  Boston,  that  the  design  of  his  enemies,  in  this  attack, 
had  been  completely  frustrated.  What  these  insinuations  and 
charges  were,  we  learn  from  his  letter  to  the  Speaker  of  the  House 
of  Representatives,  written  for  the  purpose  of  being  communi- 
cated, if  he  thought  necessary,  to  the  Legislature.  It  deserves 
here  to  be  mentioned,  as  a  singular  and  very  kind  dispensation  of 
Providence,  that  the  author  of  the  Report  had,  some  time  before, 
addressed  a  letter  to  Mr.  Edwards,  while  he  was  his  friend,  and 
when  he  hoped  for  his  co-operation;  particu  arly,  in  the  appoint- 
ment of  his  son  as  school-master  to  the  Mohawks ;  in  which,  he 
had  either  furnished  the  means  of  contradicting  the  statements 
made  in  the  Report,  or  had  expressly  requested  JMr.  Edwards  to 
do  the  very  things,  which  he  now  complained  of,   and  made  the 

Vol.  I.  66 


532  iiife'E    OF    PRESiiFENT    EDVtTAKDS. 

ground  of  complaint.  Of  this  letter,  Mr.  Edwards  enclosed  a  copfi 
offering  to  forward  the  original,  if  desired,  and,  at  the  same  time^ 
to  substantiate  every  part  of  his  own  statement,  by  numerous  wit- 
nesses, of  the  most  unexceptionable  character. 

From  his  letter  to  the  Speaker,  it  appears^  that  llie  writer  of  the 
Report  charged  him — with  intrmlucing  Mr.  Hawley  into  the 
school  ;t— with  inti-oducing  a  master,  in  his  absence,  and  whentltere 
was  reason  to  expect  his  return ;— with  doing,  this,  when  he  had 
been  at  the  expense  of  a  joiuney  of  his  son  of  260  miles,  to  procure 
Mr.  Hawley  as  master  of  the  boys  ; — with  introducing  ]\Ir.  Ashley, 
the  interpreter,  as  assistant  instructor ; — and  with  opposing  the  ap- 
pointment of  his  wife,  as  teacher  of  the  female  school ; — and  tliat 
he  also  alleged,  that  the  school  was  in  very  desirable  circumstances, 
until  Mr.  Hawley  took  it,  and  that  it  then  declined  ; — -that  the  Mo- 
haw^ks  had  been  discouraged,  through  the  conduct  of  the  agentsof  the 
mission ; — and  that  ]\lr.  Edwards  was  not  qualified  for  his  office, 
because,  on  account  of  his  age,  he  could  not  learn  the  language  of 
the  Indians. 

To  these  charges,  Mr.  Edwards  replied, — tliat  he  introduced  Mr. 
Hawley,  because  he  was  directed  so  to  do,  by  the  letter  of  the 
Commissioners,  of  Dec.  31,  1751  ; — that  he  introduced  a  master, 
in  the  absence  of  the  author  of  the  Report,  for  two  reasons,  1,  Be- 
cause he  knew  not  when  he  was  to  return ;  and,  2,  Because  the 
author  of  the  Rej^ort,  himself,  in  a  letter  sent  him  by  his  son,  re- 
quested  him,   at  that  very   time,  to  introduce   a  master  into  the 
school;  of  which  letter  he  inclosed  a  copy,  with  the  offer  of  for- 
warding the  original,  if  desired  ;— that,  when  the  author  of  the  Re- 
port sent  his  son  on  the  specified  journey,  it  was  not  to  procure  Mi\ 
Hawley,  to  be  a  master  for  the  boys,  but  it  was,  that  the  son  himself 
might  be  die  master ;  for  evidence  of  which,  appeal  is  also  made  to 
the  copy  of  the  same  letter ; — that,  as  to  the  appointment  of  teacli- 
er  of  the  female  school,  he  said  nothing  about  it,  until  expressly  re- 
quested to  give  his  opinion  by  the  Commissioners ; — that  so  far  was 
the  school  from  being  in  desirable  circumstances,  before  the  intro- 
duction of  IMr.  Hawley,  that  die  author  of  the  Report  had,  him- 
self, represented  it  as  having  been,  until  that  time,  in  most  lamenta- 
ble circumstances,  in  the  very  letter  of  which  he  enclosed  a  copy, 
in  which  he  requested  Mr.  Edwards  to  introduce  his  son  into  the 
school,  in  the  room  of  the  former  master ; — that  the  school  con- 
tinued to  flourish  under  i\lr.  Hawley,  until  his  opposers  used  their 
utmost  endeavours  to  destroy  it;  for  evidence  of  which,  he  offers 
the  testimony  of  the  substantial  inhabitants  of  the  town  ', — that  Hei>- 
drick,  and  the  other  Chiefs,  and  the  Moliawks  generally,  had  ex- 
pressly assigned   their  dissatisfaction  with  the   conduct   of  these 
individuals,  as  the  reason  of  their  leaving   Stockbridge  ;  for  evi- 
dence  of  which,   he   offers  the  same  testimony; — and,  as  to  his 
learning  the  Housatonnuck  language,  that  the  author  of  the  Re- 


Ll^E    OP   ^HESIDElSrt   EDWAIID3.  o2i> 

|S5rt  Icnew  how  the  case  \rould  be,  before  lie  recommended  him  to 
the  offiee  of  missionary ;  and  that  Mr,  Sergeant,  after  fourteen 
je-Axs  stiady,  had  never  been  able  to  preach  in  it,  nor  even  to  pray 
in  it  except  by  a  form,  and  had  often  expressed  the  opinion,  pre- 
vious to  his  death,  that  his  successor  ought  not  to  trouble  liimself, 
in  learning  the  language.  He  then  requests,  tliat  the  Speaker 
would  communicate  his  letter  to  the  Assembly,  and  prays  tliat  hon- 
ourable body,  if  they  proposed  to  take  any  order  on  tlie  case,  fij'sl 
to  give  him  opportunity  to  meet  his  accuser  face  to  face. 

i  have  no  means  of  ascertaining  whether  tlie  preceding  letter 
was,  or  was  not,  read  to  the  Legislature,  if  not ;  it  was  because 
the  Honourable  Speaker,  who  was  a  personal  friend  of  IVlr.  Ed- 
wai'ds,  found  it  to  be  wholly  unnecessaiy.  And  it  can  scarcely  be 
necessary  to  inform  tlie  reader,  that  the  attack,  made  tlius  directly 
upon  Mr.  Edwards,  and  indirectly  upon  all  his  associates  m  the 
mission,  not  only  failed  altogether  of  its  intejided  effect ;  but, 
by  leading  to  a  developement  of  tlie  mercenary  scheme,  de- 
mised to  divert,  to  the  purposes  of  private  emolument,  the  con- 
secrated charities  of  the  Province  and  of  individuals,  r^^oiled  widi 
increased  viotejice  upon  its  authors. 

Thus  far  the  individuals,  opposed  to  the  Stockbrldge  mis^ona- 
ries,  had  met  with  little  success,  to  encourage  their  eflbrts.  They 
3iad  looked  fca*  help  to  -various  sources :  to  die  Indians  and  to  the 
people  of  Stockbridge,  to  the  Commissioners  and  to  the  Pi-ovincial 
Legislature,  to  Mr.  Hollis  and  to  tlie  Society  in  London :  and  m 
every  in^ance,  so  far  as  the  result  was  imown,  tliej  iiad  looked  in 
vain.  The  Housatonnupks  had  refused  aJl  intercoui-se  with  theni. 
From  disgust  at  their  management,  a  pait  of  die  Mohawks  had  ac- 
tually retired,  and  the  rest  were  threatening  to  retii-e,  to  their  owl> 
country.  The  people  of  Stockbridge  had,  to  a  man,  msited  against 
tliem.  The  Commission ei^s  were  equally  imanimous,  in  sustaining 
the  individuals,  whose  overthrow  tiiej  had  attempted.  And  now, 
l>efore  the  Provincial  legislature,  tiiey  had  ma<le  dieir  great  and 
united  effort,  and  had  failed.  In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Edwards  i^ias 
even  more  firmly  established,  as  die  Indian  Missionary,  and  ^k, 
Woodbridge  as  the  school-master  of  the  Housatonnucks ;  jNIr. 
Hawley  had  not  been  compelled  to  resign  his  place  to  the  son  of 
tlie  resident  trustee  ;  tiie  female  school  had  not  as  yet  been  secured 
to  his  wife,  and  obviously  could  not  now  be,  unless  seciired  to  her 
in  London  ;  and  the  stewardship  of  the  dii-ee  schools  was  not  likely 
to  be  conferred  on  himself.  Such  was  tlie  state  of  things  in  the 
spring  of  1753.  It  looked  as  though  tlie  great  strug<rle  was  ovet^ 
and  that  the  party,  wliich  had  tliitherto  acted  on  tiie  offensive, 
would  thenceforward  be  quiet,  from  a  conviction,  that  e-iery  ht^h 
tiie  movement  must  issue  m  defeat.  Tiie  result  justified  this  ocmr 
clusion. 


524  LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

To  Mr.  Edwards,  and  his  associates  in  the  mission,  as  well  as  to 
their  friends,  this  result  must  have  been  in  a  high  degree  satisfactory. 
On  his  arrival  in  Stockbridge,  he  found  this  controversy  waging, 
and  soon  discovered  that  it  was  a  controversy  between  the  friends 
and  enemies  of  the  mission  ;  between  those  who  aimed  at  the  real 
welfare  of  the  Indians,  and  those  who  endeavoured  to  use  them  as 
instruments  of  their  own  private  emolument ;  that  one  party  reiied 
on  wealth,  and  office,  and  influence,  to  carry  its  measures  ;  and  the 
other,  on  personal  integrity,  a  conscientious  discharge  of  duty,  and 
the  protection  of  God.  For  a  time  he  avoided  taking  any  part  in 
it ;  and  his  own  temporal  comfort,  and  the  welfare  of  his  fiamilyy 
seemed  to  require,  that  he  should  persevere  in  the  same  course. 
But  his  conscience  forbade  it.  He  must  either  sit  quietly  by,  and 
see  the  charities  of  the  Province,  of  the  Society  in  London,  and  of 
Mr.  Hollis,  diverted  from  their  appointed  course,  to  fill  the  coffers 
of  private  avarice  ;  or  he  must  unite  with  those  who  were  exerting 
their  whole  influence  to  prevent  it.  In  such  a  state  of  things,  he 
could  not  deliberate ;  and,  through  the  divine  blessing,  he  and 
his  associates  were  now  permitted  to  see,  that  tliey  had  not  toiIe€l 
and  suffered  in  vain. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Letter  to  his  eldest  Son. — Return  of  greater  part  of  the  Mohawks. 
— Letter  to  Commissioners. — Mission  of  Mr.  Hawley  to  Onoh- 
quauga. — Remainder  of  Mohawks  directed  to  return. — Freedom 
of  the,  Will. — Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. — Proposal  of  Society  in 
London. — Letter  to  Mr.  Gillespie. — Design  and  Character  of 
the  Freedom  of  the  Will. — Letters  from  Mr.  l:olIis. — Sur- 
render of  Mohawk  School  to  Mr.  Edwards. — Entire  Defeat  of 
Enemies  of  Mission. — Return  of  remaining  Mohaivks. 

Early  in  the  ensuing  spring,  the  eldest  son  of  Mr.  Edwards,  then 
a  lad  of  fourteen,  went  to  New- York,  and  thence  to  New-Jersey; 
and  on  his  way,  was  much  exposed  to  the  small-pox.  On  his  re- 
turn to  New- York,  he  was  seized  with  a  violent  fever.  His  father 
hearing  this,  and  not  knowing  whether  it  was  an  ordinary  fever,  or  the 
small-pox,  addressed  to  him  the  following  letter ;  which,  Hke  all  his 
letters  to  his  children,  indicates  that  his  chief  anxiety  w  as  for  their 
salvation. 

"  To  Master  Timothy  Edwards,  at  New- York. 

"  Stockbridge,  April,  1753. 

"My  dear  Child, 

"  Before  you  uill  receive  this  letter,  the  matter  will  doubtless 
be  determined,  as  to  your  having  the  small-pox.  You  will  either 
be  sick  ^vith  tliat  distemper,  or  will  be  past  danger  of  having  it,  from 
any  infection  taken  in  your  voyage.  But  whether  you  are  sick,  or 
well,  like  to  die,  or  like  to  live,  I  hope  you  are  earnestly  seeking 
your  salvation.  1  am  sure  there  is  a  great  deal  of  reason  it  should 
be  so,  considering  the  warnings  you  have  had  in  word  and  in  pro- 
vidence. That  which  you  met  witli,  in  your  passage  from  New 
York  to  Newark,  which  was  tlie  occasion  of  your  fever,  was  indeed 
a  remarkable  warning,  a  dispensation  full  of  instruction,  and  a  very 
loud  call  of  God  to  you,  to  make  haste,  and  not  to  delay  in  the 
great  business  of  religion.  If  you  now  have  that  distemper,  which 
you  have  been  threatened  with,  you  are  separated  from  your  earthly 
friends,  as  none  of  them  can  come  to  see  you  ;  and  if  you  should 
die  of  it,  you  have  already  taken  a  final  and  everlasting  leave  of 
them  while  you  are  yet  alive,  so  as  not  to  have  the  comfort  of  their  pre- 
sence and  immediate  care,  and  never  to  see  them  again  in  the 
land   of  the   living.      And  if  you  have  escaped  that  distemper, 


526  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

it  is  by  a  remarkable  providence  that  you  are  preserved.     And  your 
having  been  so  exposed  to  it,  must  certainly  be  a  loud  call  ot  God, 
not  to  trust   in  earthly  friends,  or  any  tlung  here  below.     Young 
persons  are  very  apt  to  trust  in  parents  and  friends,  when  they  think 
of  being  on  a  death  bed.     But  this  providence  remarkably  teaches 
you  the  need  of  a  better  Friend,  and  a  better  Parent,  than  eartidy 
parents  are  ;  one  who  is  every  where  present,  and  all-sufficient,  that 
cannot  be  kept  off  by  infectious  distempers,  who  is  able  to  save 
from  death,  or  to  make  happy  in  death,  to  save  from  eternal  misery, 
and  to  bestow  eternal  life.     It  is  indeed  comfortable,  when  one  is  in 
great  pain^  and  languishing  under  sore  sickness,  to  have  the  presence, 
and  kind  care,  ot  near  and  dear  earthly  friends  ;  but  this  is  a  very 
small  thing,  in  comparison  of  what  it  is,  to  have  the  presence  of  au 
lieavenly  Father,  and  a  compassionate  and  almighty  Redeemer. 
In  God's  favour  is  life,  and  his  loving  kindness  is  better  than  life. 
Whether  you  are  in  sickness  or  health,  you  infinitely  need  this. 
But  you  must  know,  however  great  need  you  stand  in  of  it,  you  do 
not  deserve  it :  neitlier  is  God  the  more  obliged  to  bestow  it  upon 
3-0U,    for   your  standing  in  need  of  it,   your  earnest  desiring  oi   it, 
your  crying  to  him  constantly  for  it  from  fear  of  misery,  and  taking 
much  pains.     Till  you  have  savingly  believed  in  Christ,  all  your 
desires,  and  pains,  and  prayers  lay  God  under  no  obligation  ;  and, 
if  they  were  ten  thousand  times  as  great   as  they  are,  you  must 
still  know,  that  you  would  be  in  the  hands  of  a  sovereign  God,  who 
hath  mercy  on  whom    he  will   have    mercy.     Indeed,  God  often 
hears  the  poor  miserable  cries  of  sinful  vile  creatures,  who  have  no 
manner  of  true  regard  to  Him  in  their  hearts;  for  he  is  a  God  of 
infinite  mercy,  and  he  delights  to  show  mercy  for  his  Son's  sake, 
who  is  worthy,  though  you  are  unworthy,  who  came  to  save  the  sin- 
ful and  the  miserable,  yea,  some  of  the  chief  of  sinners.     There- 
fore, there  is  your  only  ho})e ;  and  in  him  must  be  your  refuge,  who 
invites  you  to  come  to  him,  snd  says,  "  Him  that  cometh  to  me,  I 
will  in  no  wise  cast  out."     Vvhatever  your  chcumstances  are,  it  is 
your   duty  not  to   despair,  but  to  hope  in  infinite  mercy,  through  a 
Redeemer.     For  God  makes  it  your  duty  to  pray  to  him  for  mer- 
cy ;  which  would  not  be  your  duty,  if  it  was  allowable  for  you  to  des- 
pair.    We  are  expressly  commanded  to  call  upon  God,  in  the  day 
of  trouble,    and   when  we  are  afflicted,   then  to  pray.     But,  if 
I  hear  that  you  have  escaped, — either  that  you  have  not   been 
sick,  or   are  restored, — though   I   shall  rejoice,    and  have  great 
cause  of  thankfulness,  yet  I  shall  be  concerned  for  you.     If  your 
escape  should  be  followed  with  carelessness  and  security,  and  for- 
getting the  remarkable  v,arning  you   have  had,   and  God's  great 
mercy  in  your  deliverance,  it  would  in  some  respects  be  more  awful 
than  sore  sickness.     It  would  b^  very  provoking  to  God,  and  would 
probably  issue  in  an  inc'ieasing  hardness  of  heart ;  and,  it  may  be, 
flivine  venf^eaiice  may  soon  overtake  you.     I  have  known  various  m- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EJjWARDb.  i}^l 

Stances  of  persons  being  remarkably  warned,  In  Providence,  by  being 
brougiit  into  very  dangerous  circumstances,  and  escaping,  and  after- 
wards death  has  soon  follovvcd  in  another  way.  I  earnestly  desire, 
that  God  would  make  you  wise  to  salvation,  and  that  he  would  be 
merciful  and  gracious  to  you  in  every  respect,  according  as  he 
knows  your  circumstances  require.  And  this  is  the  daily  prayer  of 
"  Your  affectionate  and  tender  father, 

'•Jonathan  Edwards. 

"  P.  S.  Your  mother  and  all  the  family  send  their  love  to  you, 
as  being  tenderly  concerned  for  you." 

At  length  the  event,  so  long  predicted  by  T^Ir.  Edwards,  actually 
took  place.  The  Mohawks,  who  had  manifested  exemplary  yra- 
tience,  under  the  vexations  and  embarrassments,  to  which  they  had 
been  subjected  by  the  whites,  were  at  last  wearied  out;  and,  in  the 
month  of  April,  the  greater  part  of  them  relinquished  their  lands 
and  settlements  at  Stockbridge,  and  returned  finrdly  to  their  own 
country.  After  a  brief  allusion  to  this  fact,  in  a  letter  to  the  Com- 
missioners, I\Ir.  Edwards  communicated  to  them  a  variety  of  in- 
teresting intelligence  relative  to  the  Iroquois,  and  to  the  mission 
proposed  to  be  established  among  them. 

"  To  the  Commissioners  in  Boston. 

«  Stockbridge,  April  12,  1753. 

'''  Gentlemen, 

"  The  last  Tuesday,  about  two  thirds  of  the  Mohawks,  young  and 
old,  went  away  from  Stockbridge,  and  are  never  likely  to  return 
again.  They  have  long  manifested  a  great  uneasiness,  at  the  ma- 
nagement of  affairs  here,  and  at  the  conduct  of  those  persons,  on 
w^iom  their  affairs  have  almost  wholly  fallen;  and  have  shown 
themselves  very  much  grieved,  that  others,  who  used  to  be  con- 
cerned, have  been  excluded.  They  have,  once  and  again,  repre- 
sented the  grounds  of  their  uneasiness,  to  the  provincial  agent,  but 
without  redress.  They  have  been  dissatisfied  with  his  answers, 
and  there  has  appeared  in  them  a  growing  dislike  of  the  family, 
who  have  lately  left  their  own  house,  and  taken  up  their  constant 
abode  among  them,  in  the  female  boarding-school. 

"The  Correspondents,  in  New- York  and  New-Jersey,  of  the  So- 
ciety in  Scotland,  for  propagating  Christian  Knowledge,  have 
determined,  if  Providence  favours,  to  settle  a  mission  among  the 
Six  Nations.  To  that  end,  they  have  chosen  Mr.  Gordon,  a  pious 
young  gentleman,  who  has  lately  been  a  Tutor  at  New-Jersey 
College,  to  come  to  Stockbridge,  and  remain  here  with  Mr.  Haw- 
ley^  to  learn  the  Mohawk  language  with  him.  in  order  to  his  being 


528  UF£    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

fitted  for  the  business.  Mr.  Gordon  is  expected  here  to  prosecute 
this  design,  in  the  beginning  of  May. 

"  in  addition  to  this,  Mr.  Brainerd,  the  Pastor  of  the  Indian  Con- 
gregation at  Bethel  in  New-Jersey,  who  is  supported  by  the  Cor- 
respondents, having  met  with  much  trouble  from  the  enemies  of 
religion  in  those  parts;  and  his  Indians  being  greatly  disturbed,  with 
regard  to  the  possession  and  improvement  of  their  lands ;  the 
Correspondents  have  of  late  had  a  disposition,  that  he,  with  his 
school-master  and  whole  congregation,  should  remove,  if  a  door 
might  be  opened,  and  take  up  a  new  settlement,  somewhere  in  the 
country  of  the  Six  Nations.  Mr.  Hawley  has  seen  Mr.  Brainerd, 
and  conversed  with  him  on  the  subject,  this  spring.  He  manifests 
an  inclination  to  such  a  removal,  and  says  his  Indians  m\\  be  ready 
for  it.  If  such  a  thing  as  this  could  be  brought  to  pass,  it  would 
probably  tend  greatly  to  the  introduction  of  the  Gospel,  and  the 
promotion  of  the  interests  of  rehgion,  among  the  Six  Nations;  as 
his  congregation  are,  I  suppose,  th^  most  virtuous  and  religious 
collection  of  Indians  in  America,  and  some  of  them  have  now  been 
long  established  in  rehgion  and  \artue. 

"  According  to  the  best  information,  I  can  get,  of  the  country  of 
the  Six  Nations,  the  most  convenient  place,  to  be  chosen  as  the 
chief  seat  of  missionary  o[)erations,  is  the  country  about  Onohquau- 
ga,  near  the  head  of  the  Susquehannah  River. 

"  I  apprehend,  from  some  things,  of  which  Mr.  Woodbridge 
informed  me,  that  the  Commissioners  have  had  very  wrong  inform- 
ation concerning  the  Onohquauga  Indians,  as  though  they  were  a 
very  despicable  company,  a  kind  of  renegadoes,  scarcely  to  be 
reckoned  as  of  the  Six  Nations,  living  out  of  the  country  of  those 
nations.  There  are,  indeed,  some  here,  who  have  sometimes 
spoken  very  contemptuously  of  them  ;  which  seems  to  have  been, 
not  from  any  manner  of  ground  in  fact,  or  so  much  as  any  colour 
of  reason;  but  merely  because  these  Indians  appeared  peculiarly 
attached  to  ^Ir.  Ashley  and  his  v\nfe,  and  under  their  influence. 
But  there  are  other  persons  in  Stockbridge,  who  have  had  as  much 
opportunity  to  know  what  is  the  true  state  of  these  people,  as  they. 
The  Onohquauga  Indians,  who  have  been  here,  are  properly,  not 
only  of  the  Six  Nations,  but  of  the  Five  Nations,  who  are  the 
original  united  tribes  of  the  Iroquois.  All,  but  one  or  two  of  them, 
are  of  the  nation  of  the  Oneiutas  ;  and  they  appear  not  to  be  look- 
ed upon  as  contemptible,  by  the  rest  of  the  Five  Nations,  from 
what  w^as  once  openly  said  of  them,  at  a  public  Council,  by  the 
Sachems  of  the  Conneenchees^  or  proper  Mohawks^  who  advised 
us  to  treat  the  Onohquaugas  with  peculiar  care  and  kindness,  as 
excelling  their  own  tribe  in  religion  and  virtue ;  giving  at  the  same 
time,  many  instances  of  their  virtue.  We  have  found  the  testimo- 
ny, which  they  gave  of  them,  to  be  true.  They  appear  to  be  far 
the  best  disposed  Indians,  with  which  we  have  had  any  connection. 


IttE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  ^29 

They  would  be  inclined  to  the  utmost,  to  assist,  encourage  and 
strengthen,  the  hands  of  missionaries  and  instructers,  should  any  be 
sent  among  them,  and  to  do  all  they  could  to  forward  their  success, 
among  themselves,  and  the  other  Indians  round  about. 

"  There  seems  to  be  no  room  for  a  missionary,  in  the  country  of 
the  Conneenchees.  The  Society  for  propagating  the  Gospel,  in 
foreign  parts,  have  long  since  taken  them  under  their  care,  and 
pretend  to  support  a  mission  among  them.  A  mission  from  the 
Commissioners  in  Boston  would  not  be  borne  by  them,  nor  by  the 
Dutch,  who  are  always  among  them.  And  as  to  the  country  of 
the  Quinqua^*  and  the  original  seat  of  the  Oneiutas,  they  seem 
not  to  be  convenient  places  for  settling  a  mission,  on  two  accounts. 
They  are  in  the  road  to  Osw^ego,  where  the  Dutch  are  incessantly 
passing  and  repassing  with  their  rum ;  with  which  they  are  con- 
tinually making  them  drunk,  and  would  be,  in  many  other  re- 
spects, a  continual  hindrance  and  affliction  to  a  missionary;  for 
they  are  exceedingly  opposed  to  the  New-England  people  having 
any  thing  to  do  with  the  Iroquois.  The  nation  of  the  (^uinquas, 
also,  are  mostly  in  the  French  interest,  as  w^ell  as  many  of  the 
Uneiutas;  so  that  a  missionary  would  there  be  afflicted,  and  per- 
haps in  danger,  by  the  French.  And  it  is  very  evident,  that  the 
country  of  the  Onoontaugas,  is  no  country  for  our  missionaries  to 
attempt  to  estabhsh  a  mission  in.  It  would  be  like  establishing  a 
mission  in  Canada ;  for  that  nation  have  entirely  gone  over  to  the 
French  interest.  They  are  in  the  road  of  the  French,  as 
they  go  up  a  trading  to  Mississippi,  and  their  distant  settlements, 
and  the  nations  on  the  Great  Lakes ;  and  the  French  have  of 
late  built  a  fort  in  their  country,  and  have  in  eftect  annexed  it  to 
Canada.  And  the  country  of  the  Senecas  will  not  be  much  more 
convenient  for  the  purpose,  both  by  reason  of  its  very  good  dis- 
tance, and  also  because  most  of  the  nation  are  firmly  united  to  the 
French,  who  constantly  maintain  their  missionaries  among  them. 

"  Onohquauga  is  within  the  territory  of  the  Five  Nations,  and 
not  so  far  from  the  other  settlements,  but  that  it  may  be  convenient  for 
making  excursions  to  the  several  tribes  ;  as  convenient  perhaps  as 
any  place  that  can  be  found.  It  is,  I  suppose,  as  near  to  the  heart 
of  the  country,  as  any  place,  unless  Oneiuta  and  Qidnquah.  They 
are  also  much  out  of  the  way  of  the  French,  and  considerably  out 
of  the  way  of  tlie  Dutch,  are  in  a  pleasant  fruitful  country,  surround- 
ed by  many  settlements  of  Indians  on  every  side,  and  where  the 
way  is  open  by  an  easy  passage  down  the  river,  which  runs  through 
one  of  the  most  pleasant  and  fruitful  parts  of  America,  for  four  or  fivo 
hundred  miles,  exceedingly  well  peopled  on  both  sides,  and  on  itrr 
several  branches  by  Indians.     Onohquauga  is  the  road,  by  which 


*  Now  called  the  Cai/ugas. 

Vol.  I.  G7 


58©  il¥E    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

several  of  the  nations  pass,  as  tliey  go  to  war  with  the  Southerft 
nations.  And  there  will  be  this  advantage,  which  missionaries  wiU 
have,  that  the  Onohquauga  Indians  are  fast  friends  to  the  English  ; 
and  though  some  of  the  Dutch  have  tried  much  to  disaffect  them 
to  the  English,  their  attempts  have  been  in  vain.  They  are  very- 
desirous  of  nistrucdon,  and  to  have  the  gospel  established  in  their 
country. 

"There  are  several  towns  of  the  Onohquaugas ;  and  several  mission- 
aries might  probably  find  sufficient  employment  in  those  parts. 
If  Mr.  Brainerd  should  settle  somewhere  in  that  country,  with  his 
christian  Indians,  and  one  or  two  more  missionaries,  not  at  a  great 
distance,  they  might  be  under  advantage  to  assist  one  another  ;  as 
they  will  greatly  need  one  another's  company  and  assistance,  in  so 
difficult  a  work,  in  such  a  strange  distant  land.  They  might  be  un- 
der advantage  to  consult  one  another,  and  to  act  in  concert,  and 
to  help  one  another,  in  any  case  of  peculiar  difficulty.  Many 
English  people  would  be  found  to  go  from  New  England,  and  set- 
tle tliere  ;  and  the  greatest  difficulty  would  be,  that  diere  would  be 
danger  of  too  many  English  settlers,  and  of  such  as  are  not  fit  for 
tlie  place. 

"But,  in  order  to  accomplish  this  ;  especially  in  order  to  such  a 
body  of  new  Indians  coming  from  the  Jerseys,  and  setding  in  the 
country  of  the  Six  Nations  ;  the  consent  of  those  nations,  or  at  least 
of  several  of  them,  must  be  obtained.  The  method  which  Mr. 
Woodbridge,  Mr.  Hawley,  and  I,  have  thought  of,  which  we  sub- 
mit to  the  wisdom  of  the  Connnissioners,  is  this, — that  ^Ir.  Wood- 
bridge,  and  Mr.  Ashley  and  his  wife,  should  go,  as  speedily  as  pos- 
sible, into  the  country  of  the  Conneenchees ; — they  being  the  first 
tribe  in  honour,  though  not  in  numbers ; — and  diere  spend  some 
weeks,  perhaps  a  month,  among  them,  to  get  acquainted  with  them, 
and  endeavour  to  gain  their  approbation  of  a  mission,  ibr  settling  the 
gospel  in  the  country  of  the  Six  Nations. — Mr.  Hawley,  in  the 
mean  time,  to  keep  Mr.  Woodbridge's  school.  Then,  that  Mr. 
Hauley  and  Mr.  Gordon  should  join  them  there,  and  go  with  them 
from  thence  to  Onohquauga ;  and  when  diey  have  acquainted  diem- 
seives  well  with  the  people,  and  the  state  of  the  country,  and  find 
things  agreeable,  and  see  a  hopeful  prospect,  then  for  Mr.  Wood- 
bridge  to  return,  and  leave  Mr.  Hawley  and  ]\Ir.  Gordon  there,  and 
forthwith  send  word  to  Mr.  Brainerd,  and  propose  to  him  to  come 
up,  v^ith  some  of  his  chief  Indians,  to  see  the  country.  And  if,  on 
the  observations  they  make,  and  the  acquaintance  they  get  with  the 
people  and  country,  they  think  there  is  an  encouraging  prospect, 
then  to  endeavour  to  gain  a  conference  with  some  of  the  chiefs  of 
the  Five  Nations,  at  an  appointed  time,  to  know  whether  they  will 
consent,  to  their  coming  to  settle  in  their  territories.  All  this  will 
occupy  some  considerable  time  ;  so  that,  if  they  can  obtain  their 
consent,  Mr.  Brainerd  must  return  home  ;  and  he  and  his  chief  In- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAJIDS.  531 

diaiis  must  come  again   to  the   Treaty,  at  the  time  and  place   ap- 
pointed. 

"  You  will  easily  perceive,  Gentlemen,  that  these  things  will  re- 
quire time,  and  that,  in  order  to  carry  these  various  measures  into 
effect  this  year,  there  will  be  need  of  expedition,  which  may  show 
the  reason  why  we  think  it  necessary,  that  Mr.  Hawley  should  come 
to  Boston  ;  for,  if  these  things  are  to  be  done  this'  year,  we  had 
need  speedily  to  know  the  minds  of  the  Commissioners,  and  there- 
fore that  the  case  would  not  allow  of  waiting  for,  and  depending  on, 
uncertain  accidental  opportunities,  of  sending  to  them,  and  hearing 
from  them.  It  is  also  proper,  that  the  Commissioners  should  have 
opportunity  to  agree  with  Mr.  Hawley,  concerning  the  reward  of 
his  services. 

"  Mr.  Brainerd  told  Mr.  Hawley,  that,  if  he  removed  with  his 
Indians,  he  should  choose  to  do  it  speedily ;  and  that,  the  longer  it 
was  delayed,  the  more  difficult  it  would  be,  by  reason  of  his  build- 
ing, and  the  Indians  increasing  their  buildings  and  improvements  at 
Bethel.  Probably,  if  the  removal  cannot  be  brought  about  the 
next  year,  it  never  will  be.  And  if  his  Indians  remove  the  next 
year,  it  will  be  necessary  that  they  remove  as  early  as  the  spring, 
in  order  to  plant  there  that  year.  And  if  so  much  needs  to  be 
done  this  summer,  it  is  as  much  as  it  will  be  possible  to  find  time 
for. 

"  Though  we  project  the  measures  mentioned  above,  we  ape 
sensible  they  will  be  attended  with  much  uncertainty.  Man^s 
heart  deviseth  his  way,  but  the  Lord  directeth  his  steps.  Many  are 
the  desires  of  Men'' s  hearts,  hut  the  counsel  of  the  Lord,  that  shall 
stand,  Unthought  of  difficulties  may  arise,  to  confound  all  our 
projects ;  as  unforeseen  difficulties  have  dashed  all  the  pleasing 
hopes  we  entertained,  and  the  fair  prospects  we  had,  concerning 
the  affairs  of  the  Mohawks  at  Stockbridge,  tlie  year  before  last. 
And  I  would  humbly  propose  it  for  consideration,  whether  it  will 
not  be  necessary,  to  leave  these  affairs,  in  some  measure  at  discre- 
tion, to  be  determined,  as  the  complicated,  uncertain,  changing 
state  of  things  shall  require ;  to  save  the  trouble  and  expence  of 
frequently  going  or  sending  to  Boston,  for  new  instructions ;  and 
to  prevent  the  disadvantages,  under  which  our  affairs  may  be  laid, 
through  the  lengthy,  uncertain  way  of  sending  for  and  receiving 
new  orders,  by  occasional  opportunities. 

"  There  will  be  a  necessity  of  i\lrs.  Ashley's  going  as  an  inter- 
preter, and  of  her  husband  going  with  her.  He  will  be  qualified 
to  instruct  the  Indians,  in  their  husbandry ;  having  been  well  in- 
structed in  it  himself.  1  believe  he  will  not  be  very  difficult  as  to 
his  wages,  though  probably  he  expects  to  know  what  they  will  be. 
*'  I  have  the  honour  to  be, 
"  Gentlemen, 

"  Your  obliged  and  obedient  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 


5S2  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

During  the  month  of  April,  Mr.  Havvley  received  a  letter  fronj 
the  Commissioners,  directing  him  to  go  to  Onohquauga,  for  the 
purpose  of  commencing  a  new  mission  at  that  place.  He  left 
Stockhridge,  May  22d,  in  company  with  Mr.  Woodbridge,  and  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Ashley,  travelling  through  the  wilderness,  and  on  the  4th 
of  June,  arrived  at  the  place  of  their  destination.  The  Indians  re- 
ceived the  intelligence  of  their  proposed  mission,  with  strong  ex- 
pressions of  satisfaction.  Mr.  Woodbridge  returned  soon  after  to 
Stockhridge.  Mr.  Havvley  appears  to  have  remained,  with  his  in- 
terpreter ;  and  his  labours,  as  a  missionary,  were  attended  with 
considerable  success. 

In  the  course  of  the  summer,  not  long  after  the  return  of  the 
larger  part  of  the  Mohawks,  from  Stockl nidge  to  their  own  coun- 
try, a  General  Council  of  the  nation  was  held,  at  their  principal  set- 
tlement on  the  Mohawk;  in  which,  after  due  examination  of  the 
facts,  it  was  decided,  That  the  rest  of  the  Mohawks,  at  Stock- 
bridge,  should  return  early  in  the  spring,  as  soon  as  the  hunting 
season  was  over.  Instructions,  to  this  effect,  were  immediately 
transmitted,  from  the  Chief  Sachem  of  the  tribe,  to  the  residue  of 
the  litde  colony,  and  made  know-n  to  the  people  of  Stockhridge. 

About  this  time,  the  agent  of  Mr.  Hollis,  discouraged,  doubtless, 
by  the  state  of  things,  as  far  as  it  was  known,  and  probably  auguring 
no  very  favourable  result  to  himself,  or  his  friends,  from  the  applica- 
tion to  Mr.  Hollis ;  quitted  Stockhridge,  and  went  back  to  New- 
ington :  leaving  the  lew  boys,  whom,  by  offering  to  board  and 
clothe  them  gratuitously,  he  had  persuaded  to  live  with  him,  in  the 
hands  of  the  resident  trustee. 

This  unhappy  controversy,  now  drawing  to  its  close,  which, 
during  its  continuance,  had  threatened  to  subvert  the  whole  Indian 
mission,  and  to  destroy  the  prosperity  of  the  village,  and  the  tem- 
poral welfare  of  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  family,  must  have  occupied 
so  much  of  his  attention,  that  when  our  readers  remember,  that  he 
preached  two  discourses  a  week  to  tlie  whites,  as  well  as  one,  by  an 
interpreter,  to  the  Housatonnucks,  and  one  to  the  Mohawks  ;  and  al- 
so catechised  the  children  of  the  whites,  the  Housatonnucks,  and  the 
Mohawks;  they  will  be  ready  to  believe,  that  he  found  no  time  for 
any  additional  labours.  And  when  they  also  recollect,  that,  on  the 
23d  of  November,  1752,  he  says,  in  his  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine, — 
"  I  began,  the  last  August,  to  write  a  litde  on  the  Arminian  Contro- 
"  versy,  but  vms  soon  broken  off:  and  such  have  been  my  extraor- 
"  dinary  avocations  and  hindrances,  that  I  have  not  had  time  to  set 
"  pen  to  paper,  about  diis  matter,  since.  But  I  hope  God,  in  his 
*'  providence,  will  favour  me  with  opportunity  to  prosecute  the  de- 
"  sign,  and  I  desire  your  prayers,  that  God  would  assist  me  in  it ;" 
— and  that  this  proposed  work,  on  the  Arminian  controversy,  was 
none  other,  than  the  Treatise  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  ; 
they  will  conclude,  of  course,  that  the  execution  of  it  must  have 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  53$ 

been  deferred  to  sorae  happier  period,  when,  amid  the  leisure  and 
traiiquility  of  retirement,  he  could  give  his  uniaterrnptod  attention, 
and  his  individual  strength,  to  its  accomplishn:ient.  What  then  will 
be  tbeir  surprise,  when  they  find  him  opening  his  next  letter  to  Mr. 
Erskine,  under  the  date  of  April  14th,  1753,  with  the  following 
annunciation, — "  After  many  hindrances,  delaj'^s  and  interruptioas, 
"  Divine  Providence  has  so  iar  favoured  me,  and  smiled  on  my  de- 
"  sign  of  writing  on  the  Arminian  controversy,  that  I  have  almost 
*'  finished  the  first  draft  of  what  J  first  intended ;  and  am  now  send- 
"  ing  the  proposals  for  subscription,  to  Boston,  to  be  printed.'* 
Let  it  be  remembered,  that  the  Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will, 
which,  in  the  opinion  of  Dugald  Stewart,  raises  its  author  to  the 
same  rank,  as  a  metaphysician,  with  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  was 
written  widiin  the  space  of  four  months  and  a  half ;  and  those,  not 
months  of  leisure,  but  demanding  the  additional  duties  of  a  parish, 
and  of  two  distinct  Indian  missions,  and  presenting  also,  all  the 
cares,  perplexities  and  embarrassments  of  a  furious  controversy, 
the  design  of  which  was  to  deprive  the  author,  and  his  family,  of 
their  daily  bread.  So  far  as  I  am  aware,  no  similar  example,  of 
power  and  rapidity  united,  is  to  be  found  on  the  annals  of  Mental 
effort."^ 

"  Stockhridge,  April  14,  1753'. 

"Hev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"After  many  hindrances,  delays,  and  interruptions.  Divine  Pro- 
vidence has  so  far  favoured  me,  and  smiled  on  my  design  of  wri- 
ting on  the  Arminian  controversy,  that  I  have  almost  finished  the 
first  draught  of  what  I  first  intended  ;  and  am  now  sending  the  pro- 
posals for  subscription  to  Boston  to  be  printed  ;  with  a  letter  of  Mr. 
Foxcroft,  to  send  thirty  of  those  proposals  to  Mr.  IM'Iiaurin,  with  a 
letter  to  him ;  in  which  I  have  desired  him  to  deliver  half  of  them 

*  Sir  Henry  Moncrieff  Wellwood,  who  had  the  MS  Letters  of  Mr.  Edwards 
to  Dr,  Erskhie  in  his  possession,  wliile  writing  his  Life  of  the  lat_ter,  observes. 
"It  was  not,  however,  till  the  month  of  July,  1752,  that  he  [Mr.  Edwards]  ap-=- 
"  pears  to  liave  resumed  his  studies,  on  the  subject  of  Free-will ;  for,  on  the  7th 
"  of  that  month,  he  writes  Dr.  Erskine,  that  he  hoped  soon  to  be  at  leisure,  to  re- 
*^  suine  his  design.''^  He  then  adds,  "  Whatever  opinion  ma}'  be  held,  with  re- 
"  gard  to  Mr.  Edwards'  arirument,  it  must  appear  astonishing  to  those,  who 
''  are  capable  of  appreciating  the  difficulty  of  his  subject,  that,  in  nine  months 
''from  the  date  of  this  letter,  (on  the  14th  of  April,  1753,)  he  could  write  Dr. 
''  Erskine,  that  he  had  almost  finished  the  first  draft  of  irhat  he  originallij  intend- 
"  erf."  The  passage,  in  Mr.  Edwards'  letter  of  Nov.  23,  1752,  announcing,  that 
he  began  to  write  in  August,  but  was  soon  broke  off;  and  had  not,  from  that 
time,  been  able  to  put  pen  to  paper,  about  the  matter ;  and  that  he  hoped,  that 
God,  in  his  providence,  would  favour  him  with  an  opportunity  to  prosecute 
the  design  ;  obviously  escaped  Sir  Henry's  notice.  If  he  regarded  it  as  aston- 
ishing, that  Mr.  Edwards  should  have  been  able  to  write  the  work  in  nine 
months ;  what  would  have  been  his  views  of  the  subject,  if,  after  first  reading 
the  details  of  the  Stockbridge  controversy,  he  had  then  discovered,  that  it  was 
written,  not  in  7iine  months,  but  in /our  and  a  half. 


534  LIFE    OF   PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

to  you,  as  you  have  manifested  yourself  ready  to  use  endeavoui'^s 
to  a;et  subscriptions  in  Scotland.  The  printing  will  be  delayed  to 
wait  for  subscriptions  from  thence.  I  therefore  request  that  you 
endeavour  to  promote  and  expedite  the  affair. 

"  Stockbridge  affairs,  relating  to  the  Indians  are,  in  many  re- 
spects, under  a  very  dark  cloud.  The  affair  of  the  Iroquois,  or 
Six  Nations,  here,  is  almost  at  an  end,  as  I  have  given  a  more  par- 
ticular account  to  Mr.  M'Laurin.  The  Commissioners  in  Boston, 
I  believe,  are  discouraged  about  it,  and  have  thoughts  of  sending 
and  setding  a  missionary  in  their  own  Country.  The  Correspond- 
ents of  the  Society  in  Scotland,  have  also  determined  to  send  a 
missionary  there,  and  have  chosen  Mr.  Gordon,  a  tutor  of  the  Col- 
lege at  Newark,  for  that  end.  INIr.  Gordon  is  expected  here  at  the 
beginning  of  May,  to  live  at  my  house  with  Mr.  Hawley,  in  order 
to  learn  the  Iroquois  language  with  him.  It  is  probable  that  he 
and  l\h\  Hawley  will  go  up,  and  spend  the  summer,  m  the  Iro- 
quois country. 

"  The  Correspondents  have  also  a  disposition,  that  Mr.  Brainerd 
should  remove,  with  his  whole  congregation  of  Indians,  to  settle 
somewhere  in  the  country  of  the  Six  Nations;  and  he  himself  and 
his  Indians,  are  ready  for  it.  'Tis  probable  that  something  will  be 
done,  to  prepare  the  way  for  it;  and  at  least  to  see,  whether  the 
way  can  be  prepared,  or  any  door  opened  for  it,  this  summer. 
Some  of  these  Indians  have  a  great  desire,  that  the  Gospel  should  be 
introduced  and  settled  in  their  country. 

"  Some  of  the  Stockbridge  Indians  have  of  late  been  under  con- 
siderable awakenings, — two  or  three  elderly  men,  that  used  to  be 
vicious  persons.  My  family  is  now  in  usual  health.  My  daughter 
Burr,  in  New-Jersey,  has  been  very  ill,  all  the  winter  ]>ast.  We 
last  heard  from  her  about  five  weeks  ago ;  when  it  was  hoped 
there  was  some  amendment. 

"My  wife  joins  with  me,  in  respectful  and  affectionate  salutations 
to  you  and  Mrs.  Erskine.  Desiring  a  remembrance  in  your 
prayers, 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"Your  affectionate  brother, 

"  and  obliged  friend  and  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edw^ards." 

The  representations  of  the  nephew  of  the  opponent  of  Mr. 
Woodbridge,  and  those  of  the  Commissioners  of  Boston,  to  the 
Society  in  London,  the  former  hostile,  and  the  latter  friendly,  to 
Mr.  Edwards  and  his  associates,  w^ere  sent  for^ward,  and  arrived 
at  their  place  of  destination,  in  due  season.  That  gentleman  had 
entertained  an  overweening  esdmate  of  his  own  influence,  with 
the  Board  of  Directors  of  the  Society  in  London.  They  gave 
full  credit  to  the   statements  of  their  own   Commissioners,   an«i 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  0*50 

sustained  them,  in  upholding  their  missionaries  and  instructers. 
Perceiving,  however,  that  an  unhappy  controversy  subsisted  at 
Stockbridge,  relative  to  the  mission,  and  knowing  that  their  Com- 
missioners at  Boston  were  150  miles  distant;  they  endeavoured  to 
devise  a  plan,  by  which,  the  existing  evils  might  be  remedied. 
Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  letter  to  Mr.  Mauduit,  one  of  their  number, 
had  observed,  "  What  renders  it  the  more  necessary,  that  things 
"here  should  be  under  the  immediate  care  of  Trustees  on  the  spot, 
"  is,  the  misunderstanding  and  jealousy  here  subsisting,  between 
*'  some  of  the  chief  of  the  present  English  inhabitants  of  the  town, 
*'  which  is  one  ol  our  greatest  calamities.  Things,  on  this  account, 
"  do  much  need  careful  inspection  ;  and  therefore,  the  gentlemen 
"  intrusted  ought  to  be  such,  as  are  perfectly  impartial,  and  no  way 
"  interested  in,  or  related  to,  these  contending  parties."  The  plan, 
suggested  by  the  Directors,  was  this.  That  eleven  persons — two 
in  New- York,  two  in  Albany,  one  in  Wethersfield,  two  in  Hart- 
ford, one  in  Windsor,  one  in  Suffield,  one  in  Hadley,  and  one  in 
Stockbridge, — should  be  a  Board  of  consultation,  to  advise  their 
agents  at  Stockbridge,  and  to  act,  by  correspondence,  with  the 
Commissioners;  and  they  counted  upon  the  preceding  extract,  as 
what  had  confirmed  them  in  the  measure.*  At  the  request  of  the 
Hon.  Mr.  Bromfield,  one  of  the  Commissioners,  Mr.  Edwards,  in 
a  letter,  dated  Oct.  19,  1753,  expressed  his  own  views  of  the  plan, 
and  pointed  out  its  inconvenience,  if  not  utter  impracticability. 
The  Commissioners  having  expressed  similar  views  to  the  Direct- 
ors ;  the  plan  was  relinquished.  This  was  the  result  of  the  appli- 
cation to  the  Society  in  London. f 

The  General  Assembly  of  the  Church  of  Scotland,  for  the  year 
1753,  having  refused,  by  a  very  small  majority,  to  restore  Mr.  Gil- 
lespie to  the  ministry  in  the  kirk,  and  to  his  parish  of  Carnock ; — 
an  act  of  plain  justice,  which  he  v,  ould  not  ask  them  to  render  him ; 
— Mr.  Edwards  addressed  to  him  the  following  letter ;  a  part  of 
which,  must  have  been  sweet  and  consoling,  to  the  feelings  of  suf- 
fering piety. 

"  Stockbridge,  October  18,  1753. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  The  last  November,  I  \\T0te  you   a  letter,  and   desired   Mr. 


*  The  Directors,  knowing  the  characters  of  the  respective  individuals  resid- 
ing in  these  places,  whom  they  designated  ;  and  perceiving,  from  an  inspection 
ot°the  map,  that  Stockbridge  was  nearly  central  to  most  of  the  places  men- 
tioned ;  appear  to  have  supposed,  that  they  might  all  meet  there,  without  in- 
convenience. 

+  On  this  aeeoHnt  only,  i»  the  plan  worthy  of  being  mentioned  here. 


536  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EI>WARDS. 

Foxcroft  to  put  up  with  it,  for  you,  one  of  my  Answers  to  Mr.  Wil- 
liams. Alter  that,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  winter,  1  received  a 
letter  from  you,  dated  June  15th,  1752,  with  Milton  on  Hirelings  ; 
and  duplicates  of  a  Letter  from  a  Gentleman  in  town,  etc.  ;  and 
Answers  to  the  Reasons  of  Dissent,  etc.  1  now  return  you  my 
hearty  thanks  for  these  things.  Since  that,  I  have  received  letters 
from  Mr.  McLaurin  and  Mr.  Erskine,  with  various  pamphlets  and 
prints  relative  to  your  extraordinary  affair.  I  think,  dear  Sir,  al- 
though your  sufferings  are  like  to  continue,  the  General  Assembly 
having  refused  to  restore  you  to  your  former  station  and  employ- 
ments, in  the  church  of  Scotland  ;  yet  they  are  attended  with  many 
manifestations  of  the  goodness,  and  fatherly  kindness,  and  favour  of 
the  great  Governor  of  the  world,  in  the  many  alleviations  and  sup- 
pordng  circumstances  of  your  persecutors  ;  in  that  so  many  of 
God's  ministers  and  people  have  appeared  to  be  so  much  concern- 
ed for  you ;  and  have  so  zealously,  and  yet  so  properly,  exerted 
themselves  in  your  behalf;  and  have  so  many  ways  given  their 
testimony  to  the  goodness  of  the  cause  in  which  you  suffer,  and  the 
unrighteousness  of  the  hardships  which  you  have  been  subjected 
to  ;  and  that  even  so  great  a  part  of  the  General  Assembly,  them- 
selves, have,  in  effect,  given  this  testimony  for  you,  there  being  but 
a  very  small  majority,  but  what  openly  appeared  for  die  taking  off 
of  the  censure  of  the  former  Assembly,  without  any  recantation  on 
your  part,  or  so  much  as  an  application  from  you,  desiring  them  so 
to  do.  You  have  some  peculiar  reasons  to  rejoice  in  your  suffer- 
ings, and  to  glorify  God  on  account  of  them.  They  having  been 
so  greatly  taken  notice  of,  by  so  many  of  the  people  of  God  ;  and 
there  being  so  much  written  concerning  them ;  tends  to  render 
them,  with  tiieir  circumstances,  and  particularly  the  patience  and 
meekness  with  which  you  have  suffered,  so  much  the  more  exten- 
sively and  durably,  to  the  glory  of  the  name  of  your  blessed  Lord,  for 
whom  you  suffer.  God  is  rewarding  you  for  laying  a  foundation, 
in  what  has  been  said  and  done  and  written  concerning  your  suffer- 
ings, for  glory  to  his  own  name,  and  honour  to  you,  in  his  church, 
in  future  generations.  Your  name  will  doubtless  be  mentioned 
hereafter  with  peculiar  respect,  on  the  account  of  these  sufferings, 
in  Ecclesiastical  History  ;  as  they  are  now  the  occasion  of  a  pecu- 
har  nodce,  which  saints  and  angels  in  heaven  take  of  you,  and  of 
their  praises  to  God  on  your  account;  and  will  be  the  occasion  of  a 
peculiar  reward,  which  God  will  bestow  upon  you,  when  you  shall 
be  united  to  their  assembly. 

"  As  to  my  own  circumstances,  I  still  meet  with  trouble,  and 
expect  no  other,  as  long  as  I  live  in  this  world.  Some  men  of  in- 
fluence have  much  opposed  my  continuing  a  missionar)'  at  Stock- 
bridge,  and  have  taken  occasion  abundantly  to  reproach  me,  and 
endeavour  my  removal.  But  I  desire  to  bless  God,  he  seems  in 
some  respects  to  set  me  out  of  their  reach.     He  raises  me   up 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  53T 

iriends,  who  are  exerting  themselves  to  counteract  the  designs  of  my 
opposers  ;  particularly  the  Commissioners  for  Indian  affairs  in  Bos- 
ton^ with  whom  innumerable  artifices  have  been  used,  to  disafFect 
them  towards  me ;  but  altogether  in  vain.  Governour  Belcher, 
also,  has  seen  cause  much  to  exert  himself,  in  my  behalf,  on  occa- 
sion of  the  opposition  made  to  me.  iMy  people,  both  English  and 
Indians,  steadfastly  adhere  to  me  ;  exceptmg  the  family  with  whom 
the  opposition  began,  and  those  related  to  them ;  which  family 
greatly  opposed  me  while  at  Northampton.  Most  numerous,  con-^ 
tinued  and  indefatigable,  endeavours  have  been  used,  to  undermine 
me,  by  attempting  to  alienate  my  people  from  me ;  innumerable 
mean  artifices  have  been  used  with  one  and  another,  with  young  and 
old,  men  and  women,  Indians  and  English  :  but  hitherto  they  have 
been  greatly  disappointed.     But  yet  they  are  not  weary. 

''  As  we,  dear  Sir,  have  great  reason  to  sympathize,  one  with  ari- 
other,  with  peculiar  tenderness ;  our  circumstances  being  in  many 
respects  similar ;  so  I  hope  I  shall  partake  of  the  benefit  of  your 
fervent  prayers  for  me.  Let  us  then  endeavour  to  help  one  ano- 
ther, though  at  a  great  distance,  in  travelling  through  this  wide  wil- 
derness :  that  w^e  may  have  the  more  joyful  meeting  in  the  land  of 
rest,  when  we  have  finished  our  weary  pilgrimage. 
"  I  am,  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  most  affectionate  brother, 
*'  and  fellow  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards. 

"  P.  S.  My  wife  joins  in  most  affectionate  regards  to  you  and 
yours." 

The  proposals,  for  publishing  the  Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  the 
Will,  were  issued  in  Massachusetts,  in  1753  ;  but,  in  consequence  of 
the  kind  offer  of  Mr.  Erskine  and  Mr.  McLaurin,  to  circulate  the 
papers,  and  procure  subscribers  for  it,  in  Scotland,  the  printing  was 
postponed,  until  the  success  of  their  efforts  was  known.  What  that 
success  was,  probably,  cannot  now  be  ascertained.  The  work  was 
published  early  in  the  year  1754,  under  the  title  of  "A  careful  and 
strict  Enquiry  into  the  modern  prevailing  notions  of  that  Freedom 
of  the  Will,  which  is  supposed  to  be  essential  to  Moral  Agency, 
Virtue  and  Vice,  Reward  and  Punishment,  Praise  and  Blame," 
This  work  is  justly  considered,  as  the  most  laboured  and  important 
of  the  metaphysical  investigations,  undertaken  by  the  author.  The 
subject,  as  will  be  obvious  from  the  preceding  title,  lies  at  the  very 
foundation  of  all  religion,  and  of  all  morality.  That  it  was  also  a  sub- 
ject of  no  ordinary  difficulty,  appears  generally  to  have  been  felt, 
and  in  effect  acknowledged  ;  for,  until  the  time  of  Mr.  Edv/ards,  U 
had  never  been  thoroughly  investigated,  either  by  philosophers  or 
theologians,  though  it  was  constantly  recurring,  in  their  reasonings  on 
the  great  principles,  connected  with  the  moral  government  of  God^ 
and  the  character  of  man.     Calvin,  in  liis  chapter  on  the  Slavery 

Vol.  r.  e>^ 


^8  L1F£    e^F    PRSSIBBNT    BDWARBS^. 

of  the  Will,  may  be  taken  as  an  example  of  the  most  that  had  beesi 
done,  to  settle  the  opinions  of  the  orthodox,  and  refute  their  oppo- 
sers,  on  this  subject,  before  this  period.  His  defect,  and  tliat  of  his- 
followers  until  the  time  of  Mr.  Edwards,  is  seen  in  this  one  thing: 
that  tliey  insisted  on  the  great  fact,  merely,  that  the  will  of  man  was 
not  in  a  state  of  indifference,  but  so  strongly  fixed  in  i^^^s  choice,  as 
to  require  supernatural  grace  for  conversion  ;  overlooking,  in  a  great 
measure,  the  nature  of  moral  agency,  and  what  is  essential  to  it& 
nature.  Their  opposers,  oii  the  contrary,  were  constantly  affirming, 
that  freedom  of  will  was  necessary  to  moral  agency,  and  carried 
their  views  to  the  extent,  that  the  will  determined  itself,  and  could 
not  be  enslaved.  In  this  state  of  ethical  and  theological  science, 
Mr.  Edwards  set  himself  to  the  task  of  examining  the  great  subject 
of  Moral  Agency,  as  connected  with  the  human  will :  and,  by  the 
precision  of  his  definitions  and  statements,  the  cogency  of  his  rea- 
sonings, the  fulness  of  his  illustrations,  the  tliorough  handling  of  all 
objections,  and  the  application  of  his  views  to  many  scriptural 
truths,  he  placed  the  grand  points  of  his  subject  in  a  light  so  over- 
whelmingly convincing,  as  to  leave  little  room  for  any  doubt  or  dis- 
pute afterwards. 

In  this  Treatise  it  is  contended,  that  the  poiver  of  choosing,  ok 
willing,  does  itself  constitute  freedom  of  agency ;  and  that  particu- 
lar acts  of  will  are  determined,  i.  e.  are  rendered  certain,  or  be- 
come such  as  they  are,  rather  than  otherwise,  by  some  sufficient 
cause  or  reason,  in  perl'ect  consistency  with  their  being  acts  of  will,, 
or  in  perfect  consistency  with  that  power  of  willing  which  consti- 
tutes freedom  of  agency.  On  the  ground  that  the  power  of  willing 
pertains  to  man,  the  author  asserts  a  JS'atural  Ability,  which  is 
the  just  occasion  of  precept,  invitation,  etc.,  or  of  the  will  of  God  be- 
ing addressed  to  him ;  and  on  the  ground,  tliat  his  acts  of  will  are 
rendered  certain,  by  a  sufficient  cause,  the  author  asserts  a  Moral 
Inability,  The  principal  point  contended  for,  and  which  is  most 
essential  to  the  defence  of  the  Calvinistic  scheme  of  faith,  in  dis- 
tinction from  the  Arminian,  is  the  latter  one,  that  the  acts  of  the  will 
are  rendered  certain,  by  some  other  cause  than  the  mere  power  of 
willing.  What  the  particular  cause,  or  causes,  may  be,  is.  not 
particularly  considered ;  but  this  question  is  dismissed  with  a  few- 
brief  remarks.  The  fact,  that  there  is,  and  must  be,  some  such 
cause,  is  the  great  subject  argued,  and  most  powerfully  demonstra- 
ted. This  cause  he  asserts  is  the  foundation  of  necessity,  in  the 
sense  merely  of  certainty,  of  action,  and  does  not  theiefore  destroy 
natural  ability,  or  the  power  of  choice,  nor  imply  tliat  man  acts 
otherwise  than  electively,  or  by  choice ;  so  that  it  is  a  necessity 
consistent  with  accoimtability,  demerit,  or  the  contrary,  and  so 
with  rewards  and  punishm.ents.  He  asserts  that  all  such  terms  as 
must,  cannot,  impossible,  unable,  irresistible,  unavoidable,  inrinci- 
hh,  etc.,  when  applied  here,  are  not  applied  in  their  proper  signifi- 


l^lFf:    OP    PRE^rDENC  EBWARBS.  530 

nation,  and  are  either  used  nonsensically,  and  with  perfect  insignifi- 
cance, or  in  a  sense  quite  diverse  from  their  proper  and  original 
meaning,  and  their  use  in  common  speech ;  and  that  such  a  ne- 
cessity, as  attends  the  acts  of  men's  wills,  is  more  properly  called 
eertainty,  than  necessity. 

Rightly  to  undei-stand  this  controversj^,  it  must  be  observed,  that 
he  and  his  opponents,  alike,  considered  sin  to  consist  in  acts  of  will. 
Had  this  not  been  the  case,  it  w^ould  have  been  idle  for  Mr.  Ed- 
wards to  have  confined  himself,  in  his  whole  treatise,  to  acts  of 
choice,  and  the  manner  in  which  they  are  determined,  i.  e.  ren- 
dered certain.  H-e  must,  in  that  case,  have  agitated  the  previous 
question,  respecting  acts  of  choice  themselves  ;  and  have  asserted 
and  maintained,  that  something  else  of  specifically  a  different  na- 
ture, enters  into  moral  character,  and  forms  the  ground  of  praise 
and  blame,  or  retribution.  But  the  question,  which  he  considered 
to  be  at  issue,  is  this  :  Does  the  mind  will,  in  any  given  manner, 
without  a  motive,  cause  or  ground,  which  renders  the  given  choice, 
rather  than  a  different  choice,  certain.  Whitby,  the  writer  whom 
he  especially  has  in  view,  in  his  remarks  on  the  Freedom  of  Man, 
asserts,  that  man,  by  his  own  activity  alone,  decides  the  choice. 
Mr.  Edwards  acknowledges  that  man  chooses,  but  asserts,  in  oppo- 
sition to  the  opinion  of  Whitby,  and  those  who  side  with  him,  that 
there  must  be  some  other  ground  or  cause,  beside  the  mere  activity 
of  man,  or  his  power  of  choosing,  which  occasions  his  choosing  in  one 
manner,  rather  than  another.  He  asserts  that,  "  doubtless  common 
sense  requires  men's  being  the  autliors  of  their  own  acts  of  will,  in 
order  to  their  being  -esteemed  worthy  of  praise  or  dispraise,  on  ac- 
count of  them."  The  very  act  of  volition,  itself,  is  doubtless  a  de- 
termination; i.  e.  it  is  the  mind's  drawing  up  a  conclusion,  or 
coming  to  a  choice,  between  two  things  or  more,  proposed  to  it. 
Butdetermining,  among  external  objects  of  choice,  is  not  the  same, 
as  determining  the  act  of  choice  itself,  among  various  possible  acts 
of  choice.  The  question  is,  What  influences,  directs  or  determines, 
the  mind  or  will,  to  such  a  conclusion  or  choice  as  it  does  form  ? 
Or  what  is  the  cause,  ground,  or  reason,  why  it  concludes  thus,  and 
not  otherwise  ?     This  is  the  question,  on  his  own  statement. 

In  the  latter  part  of  February,  1754,  a  letter  was  received  from 
Mr.  Hollis,  by  Mr.  Edwards,  containing  his  explicit  directions,  as  to 
tbe  School,  for  which  he  had  expended  so  much  money,  to  so  lit- 
tle purpose.  By  this  letter,  Mr.  Hollis  withdrew  the  care  of  the 
school,  and  the  expenditure  of  his  benefactions^  from  the  hands  of 
those,  w^ho  had  had  the  charge  of  them,  and  placed  them  in  the 
hands  of  Mr.  Edwards."^     On  tiie  25th,  Mr.  Edwards  enclosed  a 

'^  Many  benevolent  men,  on  beinjr  apprized  of  such  a  wanton  and  shameful 
perversion  of  the  funds,  appropriated  l)y  themselves  to  a  giv^en  charity,  would,^ 
at  once,  have  wholly  discontinued  their  benefactions ;  but  the  benevolence  of 
Mr.  Hollis.,  like  a  living  and  copious  fountain,  could  neither  be  dried  up,  nor 
obstructed. 


540  LH'E    Uh     PKESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


copy  of  this  letter,  in  a  note  to  the  provincial  agent,  requesting^ 
from  him,  an  account  of  the  existing  state  of  the  school,  and  of  the 
furniture  and  books,  belonging  to  it.  On  the  27th,  he  went  to  the 
school,  to  examine  into  its  actual  condition,  and  found  in  it  six  In- 
dian hoys.  The  following  day,  he  mentioned  this  fact,  in  a  second 
note  to  the  agent,  and  informed  him,  that,  as  the  Mohawks  had 
long  had  the  resolution  to  leave  Stockbridge,  early  in  the  spring,  he 
had  appointed  a  conference  with  them,  on  the  1st  of  March,  to 
learn  whether  they  still  persisted  in  that  resolution ;  to  the  end, 
that,  if  they  did  so,  he  might  suspend  any  farther  expense  upon 
them,  on  Mr.  Mollis'  account.  At  this  conference,  which  was  held 
with  all  the  Mohaw^ks,  men,  women  and  children,  in  the  presence 
of  many  of  the  people  of  the  town,  they  informed  him,  that  they 
had  all  agreed  in  the  autumn,  that  they  would  return,  in  the  spring, 
to  their  own  country  ;  and  that  this  agreement  w^as  owing  to  tlie  de- 
termination of  the  Council  of  their  nation,  the  Sachems  oi  the 
Conneenchees,  and  could  not  be  altered,  unless  by  a  new  determi- 
nation of  their  Sachems.  Of  this,  he  gave  the  agent  due  notice, 
the  day  following,  as  well  as  of  his  purpose  to  expend  none  of  Mr. 
Hollis'  money  upon  them,  so  long  as  they  persisted  in  that  reso- 
lution. 

As  the  General  Court  had  interested  themselves,  in  the  affairs  of 
Mr.  Hollis,  and  had  waited  to  know  his  mind  concerning  them, 
that  they  might  order  their  own  measures  accordingly ;  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, in  a  letter  to  the  Secretary  of  the  Province,  dated  March 
8th,  inclosed  an  extract  from  the  letter  of  Mr.  Hollis,  and  inform- 
ed him  of  the  actual  state  of  the  school,  of  the  determination  of  the 
Council  of  the  Mohawks,  and  the  consequent  resolution  of  the  lit- 
tle colony,  to  return  to  their  own  country,  and  of  the  notice  he  had 
given  the  agent,  that  he  should  withhold  any  subsequent  expense 
of  Mr.  Hollis'  money  upon  them.  He  likewise  informed  him,  that 
some  of  the  Mohawks  had,  since  the  conference,  brought  their 
children  to  him,  and  earnestly  requested  that  they  might  be  instruct- 
ed ;  offering  to  take  the  charge  of  their  maintenance  themselves; 
and  that  he  had  consented  to  receive  them.*  He  also  asks  the  ad- 
vice of  the  Secretary,  whether  he  might  still  occupy  the  school- 
house,  which  had  been  built  on  the  lands  of  the  Indians,  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  Province,  for  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Hollis'  school. 

The  individuals,  opposed  toMr.Edwardsand  Mr.Woodbridge,thug 


*  These  children  cf  the  Moliawks,  and  tlic  cliildren  of  the  Onoliquaugas, 
constitutod,  from  tliis  time,  the  male  Iroquois  boarding--school,  at  Stockbridge. 
How  long  it  was  continued,  I  have  not  been  able  to  ascertain  ;  but  suppose  it 
was  removed  to  Onohquauga,  soon  after  the  establishment  of  the  mission  of 
Mr.  Hawley,  at  that  place. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  541 

found  every  plan,  which  they  had  formed,  of  connecting  themselves 
with  die  Stockbridge  Mission,  defeated,  and  their  last  hope  extin- 
guished. In  1750,  the  prospects  of  the  mission,  in  consequence  of 
the  arrival  of  the  two  detachments  of  the  Mohawks  and  Onohquau- 
gas,  which  seemed  to  be  mere  harbingers  of  still  larger  colonies 
of  their  countrymen,  were  uncommonly  bright  and  promising.  And, 
could  the  benevolent  intentions  of  Mr.  liollis,  of  the  Society  in 
London,  and  of  the  Provincial  Legislature,  in  behalf  of  the  Iro- 
quois, have  been  carried  forward  to  their  full  completion,  with  no 
obstructions  thrown  in  their  way,  by  greedy  avarice,  or  unhallowed 
ambition  ;  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  of  the  amount  of  good,  which 
might  have  been  accomplished.  A  large  and  flourishing  colony 
of  the  Iroquois  would  soon  have  been  established,  at  Stockbridge, 
drawn  thither  for  the  education  of  their  children,  and  brought  di- 
rectly within  the  reach  of  the  means  of  Salvation.  What  would 
have  been  the  ultimate  effect  ot  such  a  colony,  on  their  countrymen 
at  home,  and  on  the  more  remote  Indian  Tribes,  can  only  be  con- 
jectured. By  the  steadfast  resolution  of  those  persons,  to  oppose 
these  plans  of  benevolence,  unless  the  management  of  the  funds, 
by  which  they  were  to  be  accomplished,  could  be  placed  in  their 
own  hands,  this  whole  system  of  beneficence  towards  the  Iroquois, 
which  would  only  have  enlarged  with  the  opportunity  of  exerting  it, 
was  frustrated  finally  and  forever.  We  will  not  cherish  the  beUef, 
that  tiie  disappointed  individuals  found  any  thing,  in  this  melancho- 
ly result,  to  console  them,  under  the  shame  and  mortification  of 
their  own  defeat :  although  they  thus  effectually  prevented  the  be- 
nevolent efforts  of  their  opponents,  by  driving  the  intended  objects 
of  them  beyond  their  reach.  A  short  time  after  the  letter  of  Mr. 
Hollis  was  received,  the  individual,  in  whose  hands  the  Mohawk 
school  had  been  left  by  the  former  teacher,  removed  with  his  fami- 
ly, to  his  former  place  of  residence ;  leavin,^  behind  him  only  one 
of  his  associates  at  Stockbridge, 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

*^ick)iess  of  Mr.  Edivards. — "  GoiTs  Last  End  in  Creation.^'* — 
*'  JVature  of  Virtue.'^'' — Mr.  Edwards^  second  son  resides  at 
Onohquanga. — Dangers  of  the  War. — Letter  to  Mr.  Erskine. 
— Letter  to  Col.  Williams. — Lord  Kaimes.- — Letter  to  Mr. 
Erskine. — Letter  to  Mr.  MCidloch. — Letter  of  Dr.  Bellamy. — 
Treatise  on  Original  Sin. — Letter  to  his  Father. — L.etter  t0 
Mr.  Erskine. 

In  July  1754,  Mr.  Edwards  had  a  most  severe  attack  of  th« 
'ague  and  fever,  which  lasted  until  January.  It  wholly  disqualified 
him  from  writing,  even  to  his  correspondents,  and  greatly  enfeebled 
his  constitution.  In  the  course  of  the  spring  following,  he  began 
the  preparation  of  two  other  Treatises,  which  were  entitled  "  A 
Dissertation,  concerning  the  End  for  which  God  created 
THE  world;"  and  "A  Dissertation,  concerning  the  Nature 
■OF  True  Virtue."  These  two  subjects  are  fundamental,  in  a 
System  of  Theology.  On  the  first,  many  writers  had  hazai  ded 
occasional  remarks  ;  yet  it  has  rarely  occupied  the  space  even  of  a 
chapter,  or  a  section,  in  theological  systems;  and  I  know  not 
whether  any  writer,  before  Mr.  Edwards,  had  made  it  the  subject  of 
a  formal  and  separate  Treatise.  From  the  purest  principles  of  rea- 
son, as  well  as  from  the  fountain  of  revealed  truth,  he  demonstrates, 
that  the  chief  m\d  idtiraate  end  of  the  Supreme  Being,  in  the  works 
of  Creation  and  Providence,  was  the  manifestation  of  his  own  glory, 
in  the  highest  happiness  of  his  creatures.  The  treatise  was  left,  by 
the  author,  as  at  first  written,  without  being  prepared  for  the  press ; 
yet  it  exhibits  the  subject,  in  a  manner  so  clear  and  convincing, 
that  it  has  been  tlie  manual  of  theologians  from  the  time  of  its 
publication  to  the  present. 

The  Nature  of  Virtue  has  been  a  frequent  subject  of  discussion, 
among  ethical  writers  of  almost  every  class, — heathen,  infidel  and 
christian.  Aristotle,  and  other  ancient  moralists,  supposed  virtue 
to  consist  in  avoiding  extremes,  and  in  following  the  mean  in  every 
thing.  Others  of  the  ancients,  defined  virtue  to  be  living  accord- 
ing to  JVature.  Balguy  and  Doddridge  represent  it  as  consisting 
in  acting  agreeably  to  the  Moral  Fitness  of  things.  Wollaston 
places  it  in  regard  to  Truth.  Hutcheson  defines  it  to  be  "  a  quality 
apprehended  in  some  actions,  which  produces  approbation  and  love 
towards  the  actor,  from  those  ivho  receive  no  henejitfrom  the  action,'^ 


LITE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAft£>S.  54^ 

Many  writers,  ancient  and  modern,  have  placed  virtue  in  Imitation 
of  God  ;  and  many  others  in  Obedience  to  the  Will  of  God.  Wa- 
terland,  Rutherforth  and  (John)  Browii,  have  placed  it  in  a  wise 
regard  to  Our  own  Interest.  Bishop  Buder  says,  that  "  a  due 
concern  about  our  own  interest  or  happiness,  and  a  reasonable  en- 
deavour to  promote  it,  is  Virtue  ;"  and  that  "  Benevolence,  singly 
considered,  is  in  no  sort  the  whole  of  Virtue."  Hume,  who  appears  to 
have  read  several  of  the  works  of  Edwards,  and  to  have  made  use  of 
them  in  accommodation  to  hisown  views,includes  in  his  description  of 
virtue,  whatever  is  Agreeable  and  Useful  to  ourselves  and  others. 
Adam  Smith  refers  it  to  the  principle  of  Sympathy.  Paley,  who 
read  Edwards  with  care,  defines  Virtue  to  be  "  The  Doing  Good- 
to  mankind  in  obedience  to  the  Will  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of 
everlasting  happiness."  Cumberland,  in  his  Laws  ofJVature,  justly 
-regards  it  as  consisting  in  the  love  of  God,  and  of  our  fellow- 
creatures;  and  explains  himself  thus  ;  " The  foundation  of  all  na- 
tural law  is  the  greatest  benevolence  of  every  rational  agent  to- 
wards all. 

Mr,  Edwards  represents  Virtue  as  founded  in  Happiness  ;  and 
as  being  Love  to  the  greatest  Happiness,  or  Love  to  the  Happiness 
of  Universal  Being.  He  describes  it,  as  leading  its  possessor  to 
desire,  and  to  promote,  as  far  as  in  him  Hes,  the  happiness  of  all  be- 
ings, and  a  greater  degree  of  happiness  in  preference  to  a  less.  His 
account  of  the  subject  is  in  exact  accordance,  with  the  decision  of 
Reason.  Happiness  is  the  end,  for  which  intelligent  beings  were 
made,  the  perfection  of  their  existence  :  and  therefore  Virtue,  of 
Moral  Excellence,  must  be  love  to  that  Happiness.  It  is  also  in 
exact  accordance  with  the  Scriptures.  The  Sum  of  our  duty  is 
unquestionably  Virtue.  But  Moses  sums  up  our  duty  in  the  two 
commands,  '•''Thou  shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, ^' 
and  "  Thou  shalt  love  thy  neighbour  as  thyself:"  In  other  words, 
Thou  shalt  love  the  Happiness  of  Universal  Being. 

When  the  Scriptures  had  so  plainly  pointed  out  the  Nature  of 
Virtue,  as  consisting  in  Love ;  and  its  Foundation,  as  being  Happi- 
ness ;  it  is  not  a  little  remarkable,  that  so  many  acute  writers,  with 
the  Scriptures  in  their  hands,  should  have  formed  views  either  so 
obscure,  or  so  erroneous,  of  these  subjects ;  and,  perhaps  not 
less  remarkable,  that  Mr.  Edwards  should  have  been  able  to  dis- 
cover its  true  Nature,  and  its  real  Foundadon,  at  a  very  early  age. 
as  clearly  as  he  did  in  after  life.  That  this  was  the  case,  no  one 
will  want  evidence,  who  reads  the  various  articles,  under  the  head 
©f  Excellency,  pardcularly  the  last,  in  the  Notes  on  the  Mind.^ 


*See  Appendix,  H.  Id  several  of  the  articles  under  the  head  of  Excel- 
lency-, the  reader  will  find,  if  I  mistaJie  not,  as  striking  specimens  of  pow- 
erful metaphysical  reasoning,  as  any  to  be  found  in  the  Essav  on  the  Free- 
<^omoftkeWin-. 


54^  Life  of  president  edwards. 

These  two  treatises  were  first  published  together  in  a  pamphlet, 
in  Boston,  in  1788,  without  alteration  from  the  rough  draft  of  th^ 
author.  He  designed  them  both  for  publication,  but  never  prepar- 
ed either  of  them  for  the  press.  Though  conceived  and  expressed 
with  great  perspicuity,  they  treat  of  subjects,  which  demand  close 
thought  in  the  reader,  as  well  as  the  writer ;  and,  on  this  account,  have 
often  been  imperfectly  comprehended,  even  by  divines.  But  wher- 
ever they  have  been  read  and  understood,  they  have,  to  such  a  de- 
gree formed  and  regulated  the  views  of  theologians,  with  regard  to 
the  subjects  of  which  they  treat,  that  other  treatises  are  consulted, 
rather  as  objects  of  curiosity,  or  history,  than  as  guides  of  opinions 
and  principles.* 

In  February,  or  early  in  March,  this  year,  Mr.  Edwards  sent  his 
second  son,  Jonathan, f  then  a  lad  of  nine  years  of  age,  to  Onohquau- 
ga,  to  reside  with  Mr.  Hawley,  that  he  might  learn  more  perfectly  the 
language  of  the  Iroquois.  He  continued  there  about  a  twelve- 
month :  when,  in  consequence  of  the  war  with  France,  the  danger 
of  attack  from  the  Indians  became  so  imminent,  that  Mr.  Hawley 
returned  with  him  to  his  father's  house. 

The  war  of  1754  was  most  disastrous  to  the  colonies  ;  and  the 
frontier  settlements  of  New  England,  of  which  Stockbridge  was 
one,  were  exposed  to  unceasing  anxiety  and  alarm,  from  their  con- 
stant liabihty  to  attack  from  the  French  and  savages.  In  the  au- 
tumn, several  of  the  inhabitants  of  Stockbridge  were  killed  by 
these  marauders;  in  consequence  of  which  it  became  a  garrisoned 
town ;  and  every  family  had  quartered  upon  it  its  owii  quota  of  the 
soldiers,  necessary  for  the  defence  of  the  place.  The  state  of 
things,  in  this  respect,  may  be  learned  from  the  following  letter  of 
Mr.  Edwards,  to  the  officer  who  had  the  command  of  the  troops 
in  that  part  of  the  county. 

"  Stockbridge  Feb.  26,  1755. 

"  Sir, 

VVe  have  not  lodgings  and  provisions,  so  as  to  board  and  lodge 
more  than  four  soldiers;  and  being  in  a  low  state  as  to  my  health, 
and  not  able  to  go  much  abroad,  and  upon  that  and  other  accounts^ 
under  much  greater  disadvantages,  than  others,  to  get  provisions,  it 
is  for  this  reason,  and  not  because  I  have  a  disposition  to  make  dif- 

*  Bishop  Butler  has  left  a"  Dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  Vir- 
tue," which  the  curious  reader  will  do  well  to  examine  in  connexion  with 
?»Ir.  Edw^ards'  "Dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  True  Virtue  ;"  if 
he  wishes  to  compare  the  powers  of  these  two  distinguished  men,  when  en- 
deavouring to  grasp  the  same  subject. 

t  Atlerwards  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards.  D.  D.  President  of  Union 
College,  Schenectady.  He  was  familiarly  acquaint  d  wiih  the  Housaton- 
nuck  and  the  Iroquois :  in  early  life,  more  so  than  with  the  English. 


LIFE    UF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  545 

ficulty,  that  I  told  the  soldiers  of  this  province,  who  had  hitherto 
been  provided  for  here,  that  we  could  not  board  them  any  longer. 
I  have  often  been  told  that  you  liad  intimated,  that  you  have  other 
business  for  them  in  a  short  time.  Capt.  Hosmer  has  sent  three  of 
his  men  to  lodge  at  my  house,  whom  I  am  willing  to  entertain,  as 
I  choose  to  board  such,  as  are  likely  to  be  continued  for  our  defence, 
in  times  of  danger.  Stebbins  has  manifested  to  us  a  desire  to  con- 
tinue here.  Him,  therefore,  I  am  willing  to  entertain,  with  your 
consent.  Requesting  your  candid  construction  of  that,  which  is  not 
intended  in  any  inconsistence,  with  my  having  all  proper  honour 
and  respect,  I  am 

"  Your  humble  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  subsequent  letter  to  Mr.  Erskine  will  show,  still  more  fully, 
the  state  of  alarm  and  terror,  then  existing  at  Stockbridge. 

*'  Stockbridge,  April  15,  1755. 
"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"The  last  year,  in  the  spring,  I  received,  without  a  letter,  a 
pacquet,  containing  the  following  books :  Casaubon  on  Enthusiasm; 
Warburton's  Principles  of  Natural  and  Revealed  Religion;  Mer- 
rick on  Christ  the  True  Vine;  Campbell's  Apostles  no  Enthusiasts  ; 
Discourse  on  the  Prevailing  evils  of  the  present  time  ;  Remarks  on 
Aposdes  no  Enthusiasts  ;  Moncrief's  Review  and  Examination  of 
some  principles  in  Campbell's  Apostles  no  Enthusiasts  ;  Gilbert  on 
the  Guilt  and  Pardon  of  Sin;  Hervey  on  the  Cross  of  Christ; 
An  account  of  the  Orphan  School,  etc.  at  Edinburgh ;  Memorial 
concerning  the  Surgeon's  Hospital ;  Gairdner's  Account  of  the  Old 
People's  Hospital ;  State  of  the  Society  in  Scotland  for  propagating 
Chrisdan  Knowledge  ;  Abridgement  of  the  Rules  of  said  Society  ; 
Regulations  of  the  Town's  Hospital  at  Glasgow ;  and  Annals  of  the 
Persecution  of  the  Protestants  in  France. 

"  In  the  beginning  of  last  December,  I  received  another  pacquet, 
without  a  letter :  the  wTapper  superscribed  with  your  hand.  In 
this,  were  the  following  pamphlets :  A  Sermon  by  a  Lay  Elder, 
before  the  Commission  ;  A  Letter  to  a  gentleman  at  Edinburgh  ; 
Resolutions  of  the  General  Assembly,  of  ]\lay  22d,  1736 ;  Ruther- 
ford's Power  of  Faith  and  Prayer ;  Enquiry  into  the  method  of 
settling  Parishes ;  The  nature  of  the  Covenant  and  Constitution  of 
the  Church  of  Scotland  ;  Essay  on  Gospel  and  Legal  Preaching ; 
Necessity  of  Zeal  for  the  Truth ;  A  Vindication  of  the  Protestant 
Doctrine  of  Jusdfication,  against  the  charge  of  Antinomianism. 
The  last  week,  I  received  a  letter  from  you,  dated  11th  July,  '54  ; 
which  was  found  at  ]\Ir.  Prince's,  by  one  that  went  to  Boston  from 
hence,  and  had  lain  there,  ]Mr.  Prince  could  not  tell  how  long.  In 
this  letter,  vou  make  mention  of  these  last  mentioned  pamphlets, 

Vol.  i  "  69 


546  lifp:  oy  president  edwards. 

received  last  December.  I  now  return  you  my  hearty  thanks  ior 
tliis  letter,  and  these  generous  presents.  I  should  have  written  to 
you  long  ago,  had  I  not  been  prevented,  by  the  longest  and  most 
tedious  sickness,  that  ever  I  had  in  my  life :  I  being  followed  with 
fits  of  ague,  which  came  upon  me  about  the  middle  of  last  July, 
and  were,  for  a  long  time,  very  severe,  and  exceedingly  w^asted  my 
flesh  and  strength,  so  that  I  became  like  a  skeleton.  I  had  seve- 
ral intermissions  of  the  fits,  by  the  use  of  the  Peruvian  bark;  but 
tliey  never  wholly  left  me,  till  the  middle  of  last  January.  In  the 
mean  time,  I  several  times  attempted  to  write  letters  to  some  of  my 
friends,  about  affairs  of  importance,  but  found  that  I  could  bear 
but  little  of  such  writing.  Once,  in  attempting  to  write  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Burr,  a  fit  of  the  ague  came  upon  me,  while  I  w^as  writing,  so 
that  I  was  obliged  to  lay  by  my  pen.  When  my  fits  left  me,  they 
left  me  in  a  poor,  weak  state,  so  that  I  feared  whether  I  was  not 
going  into  a  dropsy.  Nevertheless,  I  have,  of  late,  gradually 
gained  strength. 

"I  lately  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  M'Laurin,  dated  Aug.  13, 
'54  ;  which  Mr.  Prince  sent  me,  with  a  letter  from  himself,  where- 
in he  informed  me,  that  a  Captain  of  a  ship  from  Glasgow,  then 
lately  arrived,  brought  an  account  of  Mr.  M'Laurin's  death,  that  he 
died  very  suddenly,  with  an  apoplexy,  a  little  before  he  left  Glas- 
gow. Since  1  received  that  letter,  1  sent  to  Mr.  Prince,  desiring 
to  know  more  of  the  certainty  of  the  account.  This  is  an  affecting 
piece  of  news.  It  is  an  instance  of  death,  which  I  have  much 
cause  to  lament.  He  has  long  shown  himself  to  be  a  very  worthy, 
kind  and  obliging,  friend  and  correspondent  of  mine.  And  doubt- 
less, the  Church  of  Scotland  has  much  cause  to  lament  his  death. 
There  is  reason  to  think,  that  he  was  one  of  them  that  stood  in  the 
gap,  to  make  up  the  hedge,  in  these  evil  times.  He  was  a  wise, 
steady  and  most  faithful,  friend  of  Gospel  truth,  and  vital  piety,  in 
these  days  of  great  corruption.  I  wish  that  I  may  take  warning  by 
it,  as  well  as  by  my  own  late  sickness,  to  prepare  for  my  own  de- 
parture hence. 

"  I  have  nothing  very  comfortable  to  wv'ite,  respecting  my  own 
success  in  this  place.  The  business  of  the  Indian  mission,  since  I 
have  been  here,  has  been  attended  with  strange  embarrassments, 
such  as  I  never  could  have  expected,  or  so  much  as  once  dreamed 
of:  of  such  a  nature,  and  coming  from  such  a  quarter,  that  I  take 
no  delight  in  being  very  particular  and  explicit  upon  it.  But,  be- 
side Vv4rat  I  especially  refer  to,  some  things  have  lately  happened, 
that  have  occasioned  erreat  disturbance  anions;  the  Indians,  and 
have  tended  to  alienate  them  from  the  English.  As  particularly, 
the  killing  of  one  of  them  in  the  woods,  by  a  couple  of  travellers 
white  men,  who  met  him,  and  contended  with  him.  And  though 
the  men  w^ere  apprehended  and  imprisoned ;  yet,  on  their  trial 
they  escaped  the  sentence  of  death  :  one  of  them  only  receiving  a 


LIFE    OF    Pl^ESIDENT    EDWARDS.  "547 

lighter  punishment,  as  guilty  of  uia.nslaughter  :  hy  which  these  In- 
dians, and  also  the  Indians  of  some  other  tribes,  were  greatly  dis- 
pleased, and  disaffected  towards  the  Enghsh.  Since  the  last  fall, 
some  Indians  from  Canada,  doubtless  instigated  by  the  French, 
broke  in  upon  us,  on  the  Sabbath,  between  meetings,  and  fell  upon 
an  English  family,  and  killed  three  of  them  ;  and  about  an  hour 
after,  killed  another  man,  coming  into  the  town  from  some  distant 
houses ;  which  occasioned  a  great  alai'm  in  the  town,  and  in  the 
country.  Multitudes  came  from  various  parts,  for  our  defence, 
that  niglit,  and  the  next  day ;  and  many  of  these  conducted  very 
foolishly  tov/ards  our  Indians,  on  this  occasion,  suspecting  them  to 
be  guilty  of  doing  the  mischief,  charging  them  with  it,  and  threaten- 
ing to  kill  them,  and  the  like.  After  this,  a  reward  being  offered 
by  some  private  gentlemen,  to  some  that  came  this  way  as  soldiers, 
if  they  would  bring  them  the  scalp  of  a  Canada  Indian  ;  two  men 
w^ere  so  extremely  foolish  and  wicked,  that  they,  in  the  night,  dug 
up  one  of  our  Indians,  that  had  then  lately  died,  out  of  his  grave, 
to  take  off  his  scalp ;  that,  by  pretending  that  to  be  a  scalp  of  a 
Canada  Indian,  whom  they  had  met  and  killed  in  the  woods,  they 
might  get  the  promised  reward.  When  this  was  discovered,  the 
men  were  punished.  But  this  did  not  hinder,  but  that  such  an  act 
greatly  increased  the  jealousy  and  disaffection  of  the  Indians,  to- 
wards the  English.  Added  to  these  things,  we  have  many  white 
people,  that  will,  at  all  times,  without  any  restraint,  give  them  ardent 
spirits,  which  is  a  constant  temptation  to  their  most  predominant  lust. 
"  Though  I  have  but  litde  success,  and  many  discouragements, 
here  at  Stockbridge,  yet  Mr.  Hawley,  now  a  missionary  among 
the  Six  Nations,  who  went  from  New-England  to  Onohquauga,  a 
place  more  than  200  miles  distant  from  hence,  has,  of  late,  had 
much  encouragement.  Religion  seems  to  be  a  growing,  spreading 
thing,  among  the  savages  in  that  part  of  America,  by  his  means. 
And  there  is  a  hopeful  prospect,  of  w^ay  being  made  for  another 
missionary  in  those  parts,  wdiich  may  have  happy  consequences, 
unless  the  Six  Nations  should  go  over  to  the  French ;  which  there 
is  the  greatest  reason  to  expect,  unless  the  English  should  exert 
themselves,  vigorously  and  successfully,  against  the  French,  in 
America,  this  year.  They  seem  to  be  waiting,  to  see  whether  this 
will  be  so  or  no,  in  order  to  determine,  whether  they  will  entirely 
desert  the  English,  and  cleave  to  the  French.  And  if  the  Six  Na- 
tions should  forsake  the  English,  it  may  be  expected,  that  the 
Stockbridge  Indians,  and  almost  all  the  nations  of  Indians  in  North 
America,  will  follow^  them.  It  seems  to  be  the  most  critical  sea- 
son, with  the  British  dominions  in  America,  that  ever  was  seen, 
since  the  first  setdement  of  these  colonies ;  and  all,  probably,  will 
depend  on  the  warlike  transactions  of  the  present  year.  What 
will  be  done,  I  cannot  tell.  We  are  all  in  commotion,  from  one 
end  of  British  America,  to  the  other ;  and  various  expeditions  are 


548  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

projected,  and  preparing  for  ;  one  to  Ohio,  another  to  the  French 
Forts  in  Nova  Scotia,  another  to  Crown  Point.  But  these  affairs 
are  not  free  from  embarrassments :  great  difficulties  arise,  in  our 
present  most  important  affairs,  through  the  dispirited  state  of  the 
several  governments.  It  is  hard  for  them  to  agree  upon  means 
and  measures.  And  we  have  no  reason  to  think,  that  the  French 
are  behind  us,  in  their  activity  and  preparations.  A  dark  cloud 
seems  to  hang  over  us  :  we  need  the  prayers  of  all  our  friends,  and 
all  friends  to  the  Protestant  interest.  Stockbridge  is  a  place  much 
exposed ;  and  what  will  become  of  us,  in  the  struggles  that  are 
coming  on,  God  only  knows.  I  have  heard  that  Messrs.  Tennent 
and  Davies  are  arrived  in  America,  having  had  good  success,  in 
the  errand  they  went  upon-  Mr.  Bellamy  is  not  likely  to  go  to 
New- York,  principally  by  reason  of  the  opposition  of  some  of  the 
congregation,  and  also  of  some  of  the  neighbouring  ministers.  I 
have  heard,  they  have  lately  unanimously  agreed  to  apply  them- 
selves to  Mr.  IM'Gregor,  of  New-Londonderry,  alias  Nutfield,  in 
New-England,  to  be  their  minister ;  who  is  a  gentleman,  that,  I 
think,  if  they  can  obtain  him,  will  be  likely  to  suit  them,  and  com- 
petent to  fill  the  place.  And  I  have  heard,  that  there  has  been 
some  difference  in  his  own  congregation,  that  has  lately  made  his 
situation  there  uneasy.  If  so,  he  will  be  more  likely  to  consent  to 
the  motion  from  New- York. 

"  My  wife  joins  with  me,  in  respectful  and  affectionate  saluta^ 
tions,  to  you  and  Mrs.  Erskine. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  and  obliged  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

*'  P.  S.  In  a  journey  I  went  to  Northampton,  the  last  April,  I  carried 
the  foregoing  letter,  with  others  for  Scotland,  so  far,  seeking  an  op- 
portunity to  send  them  from  thence  to  Boston ;  and  there  I  met 
another  letter  from  Mr.  Prince,  with  a  joyful  contradiction  of  his 
former  account  of  Mr.  M'Laurin's  death ;  wiiich  occasioned  my 
bringing  my  pacquet  home  again.  Nevertheless,  after  I  had  broken 
open,  and  perused  this  letter,  I  thought  best  to  send  it  along,  en- 
closed in  a  WTapper  to  Mr.  M'Laurin ;  wdio,  I  hope,  is  yet  living, 
and  will  convey  it  to  you.  "  J.  E, 

•'  Stockbridge,  June  2,  1755." 

In  the  beginning  of  September,  the  danger  became  so  imminent, 
that  Mr.  Edwards,  at  the  request  of  the  people  of  the  town,  ad- 
dressed the  following  m'gent  letter  to  the  Colonel  of  the  County. 

"To  Col.  Israel  WilHams. 

^'Stockbridge,  Sej)t.  5,  1755. 
«  Sir, 

"Yesterday  the  English  inhabitants  of  the  town  sent  away  a  let- 


LlFt:    OF     PRESIDENT     EDWARDS.  549 

ter,  directed  to  you,  to  be  conveyed  to  Hatfield,  respecting  the  state 
of  the  town,  stating  that  it  was  left  very  greatly  exposed,  by  the  drawing 
off  oi  all  the  Connecticut  soldiers  ;  that  Gov.  Shirley,  by  his  urgency, 
had  persuaded  away  almost  all  the  Indian  inhabitants,  fit  for  war, 
who  objected  much  against  going,  on  that  account,  that  the  depar- 
ture of  so  many  would  leave  the  tow'n,  and  their  wives  and  children 
too,  defenceless;  that  the  Governour  removed  their  objection,  by 
promising,  that  a  sufficient  number  of  English  soldiers  should  be 
maintained  here,  during  their  absence,  for  the  defence  of  the 
town ;  and  also,  that  we  had  just  now  mformation  sent  in  wTiting, 
from  Mr.  Vanschaak,  that  two  large  parties  of  Indians  are  lately 
gone  out  of  Crown  Point,  against  our  frontiers :  and  so  entreating 
that  soldiers  may  be  speedily  sent.  But  being  informed  to-day,  that 
you  are  gone  from  Hatfield,  and  not  knowing  whether  you  will 
seasonably  receive  the  aforementioned  letter,  I  now^,  at  the  desire 
of  the  people,  give  you  this  brief  information  of  what  w^as  therein 
written ;  earnestly  desiring,  that  we  may  not  be  left  so  easy  and  open 
a  prey  to  our  enemies,  who,  we  have  reason  to  think,  have  the 
means  of  learning  our  situation,  and  are  certainly  preparing  to  at- 
tack some  of  the  most  defenceless  of  the  frontier  villages.  We 
hope  that  the  troops  may  be  forwarded  immediately ;  for,  having 
no  adequate  means  of  repelling  an  attack,  we  have  no  security  for  a 
single  day. 

"  I  am,  respectfully, 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards." 

In  1751,  an  anonymous  work  was  published  in  Edinburgh,  enti- 
tled "Essays  on  the  Principles  or  Morality,  and  Natural 
Religion,"^  of  which  Henry  Home, f  Esq.  soon  avowed  himself  the 
author.  These  Essays,  though  written  by  a  member  of  the  Church 
of  Scotland,  were  regarded  as  decidedly  sceptical  in  their  tenden- 
cy, and  brought  the  author  into  some  difficulties  with  the  particular 
church  with  which  he  was  connected.  This  led  to  a  public  dis- 
cussion of  the  character  of  the  work  at  large — particularly  of  the 
Essay  on  Liberty  and  Necessity.  When  this  discussion  was 
commencing,  the  Essay  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will  arri- 
ved in  Scotland.  It  was  extensively  read  by  men  of  speculative 
minds ;  and,  though  presenting  a  view  of  the  subject  wholly  new, 
gave  great  satisfaction  to  men  of  all  classes.  Lord  Kaimes  and  his 
friends,  having  read  the  work  of  Mr.   Edwards,   endeavoured  to 


*  The  subjects  treated  of  in  this  volume  were,  Attach3ie.\t  to  objects 
OF  Distress.  Law  of  Nature.  Law  of  Necessity.  Belief.  Personal 
Identity.  Authority  of  our  Senses.  Idea  of  Power.  Knowledge  of 
Future  Events.  Dread  of  Supernatural  Pouers  in  the  Dark.  Our 
Knowledge  of  the  Deity. 

t  Soon  after  created  a  Lord  of  Session,  with  the  the  title  of  Lord  Kuimes. 


'CiOir  "LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

show  that  tlie  view  of  Liberty  and  Necessity,  in  the  Freedom  of 
THE  Will,  was  substantially  the  same  with  that  given  by  his 
Lordship.  Mr.  Erskine  appriezd  Mr.  Edwards  of  this  fact.  In 
the  following  letter,  the  latter  barely  alludes  to  the  work  of  Lord 
Kaimes,  as  a  work  of  corrupt  tendency.  Li  a  subsequent  Letter  to 
his  friends,  written  in  the  summer  of  the  following  year,  and  now  ap- 
pended to  the  Treatise  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,"^  he  examines 
the  views  of  Liberty  and  Necessity  by  his  Lordship,  shows  their 
entire  discordance  with  his  own  views,  as  exhibited  in  the  Freedom 
of  the  Will,  and  exposes  their  inconsistency,  not  only  with  reason, 
but  with  each  other.  This  letter  from  a  sense  of  justice  to  its  au- 
tiior,  was  immediately  published,  in  the  form  of  a  pamphlet,  by  Mr. 
Erskine,  and  produced  a  universal  conviction,  that  Lord  Kaimes  had 
wholly  misunderstood  the  view  taken  of  Liberty  and  Necessity,  by 
Mr.  Edwards ;  and  that  his  own  views  of  it  were  at  war,  alike,  with 
Reason  and  Revelation.  Lideed,  his  Lordship  himself  appears  to 
have  been  of  the  same  opinion ;  for,  in  a  subsequent  edition,  the 
Essay  on  Liberty  and  Necessity  is  said  to  have  been  much  changed, 
as  to  present  essentially  different  views  of  those  important  subjects. 

"  To  the  Rev.  John  Erskine,  Minister  of  the  Gospel,  at  Culross, 

"  Scotland. 

'' Stockbridge,  Dec.  11,  1755. 

"  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"I  last  wrote  to  3^ou  July  24th,  1755.  Since  that  I  received 
a  letter  from  you,  dated  June  23,  1755,  together  with  the  Essays 
on  the  Principles  of  Morality  and  JVatural  Religion,^  from  Mr. 
Hogg,  and  the  Analysis  of  the  moral  and  religious  sentiments  of 
Sopho,  Irom  yourself.  I  thank  you  for  your  letter  and  present, 
and  shall  wTite  a  letter  of  thanks  to  Mr.  Hogg,  for  his  present  by 
your  hand,  added  to  former  instances  of  his  generosity.  I  had  be- 
fore read  that  book  of  Essays,  having  borrowed  Mr.  Bellamy's,  and 
also  that  book  of  Mr.  David  Hume's,  which  you  speak  of.  I  am 
glad  of  an  opportunity  to  read  such  corrupt  books,  especially  when 
written  by  men  of  considerable  genius ;  that  I  may  have  an  idea 
of  the  notions  that  prevail  in  our  nation.  You  say  that  some  peo- 
ple say,  that  Lord  Kaimes'  being  made  a  Lord  of  Session  w^ould 
have  been  prevented,  if  Chancellor  Hardwick  and  Archbishop 
Herring  had  seasonably  seen  his  book.     I  should  be  glad  to  know^ 


*  See  Vol.  II;  pp.  290-300.  Lord  Kaimes  had  a  much  higher  reputation, 
as  a  writer,  fifty  years  ago,  tlian  at  present.  The  perusal  of  his  Essay  on  Lib- 
erty and  Ner,essity.  and  of  the  remarks  upon  it,  in  the  letter  of  Mr.  Edwards, 
here  referred  to,  will  inevitably  lead  to  the  conviction,  that,  as  a  metaphysician, 
he  was  neither  accurate,  nor  profound. 

t  By  Lord  Kaimes. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAUOS.  551 

wlio  this  Chancellor  Hardwick  is,  and  what  is  liis  character.  By 
your  mentioning  h.ini  in  such  a  manner,  I  am  ready  to  suppose  he 
may  be  in  some  respects,  of  good  character ;  and  it  is  a  matter  of 
thankfuhiess,  if  a  man  of  good  character,  and  a  friend  to  religion,  be 
Lord  Chancellor. 

"  As  to  our  warlike  concerns,  I  have  not  heretofore  been  very 
particular  in  writing  about  them,  in  my  letters  to  Scodand,  suppos- 
ing it  highly  probable,  that  you  would  have  earlier  accounts  from 
Boston,  New- York  and  Philadelphia,  than  any  I  can  send  you,  living 
at  so  great  a  distance  from  any  of  the  sea  ports.  Nev^ertlieless, 
seeing  you  propose  my  sending  you  some  account  of  the  present 
posture  of  affairs,  I  would  say,  that  it  appears  to  me,  that  notwith- 
standing some  remarkable  favours  of  heaven,  of  which  we  are  very 
unworthy,  it  has  in  the  general  been  a  year  of  great  frowns  of 
Providence  on  British  America.  Notwithstanding  our  success  at 
Nova  Scotia,  and  in  having  the  better  in  the  batde  near  Lake 
George,  and  taking  the  French  General  prisoner;  yet,  considering 
the  advantages  the  enemy  hath  obtained  against  us,  by  General 
Braddock's  defeat,  especially  in  gaining  over  and  confirming  the  In- 
dians on  their  side,  and  disheartening  and  weakening  our  friends, 
and  w^hat  we  have  suffered  from  our  enemies,  and  how  greatly  we 
are  weakened  and  almost  sunk  with  our  vast  expenses,  especially 
in  New  England,  and  the  blood  as  well  as  money  we  have  expend- 
ed ;  I  say  considering  these  things,  and  how  little  we  have  gained 
by  our  loss  and  trouble,  our  case  is  no  better,  but  far  worse,  than  it 
was  in  the  beginning  of  the  year.  At  least,  I  think  it  certain,  that 
we  have  attained  no  advantage,  in  any  wise,  to  balance  our  trouble 
and  expense  of  blood  and  treasure.  The  expedition  to  the  east- 
ward has  been  remarkably  successful,  but  the  other  three  expedi- 
tions, that  against  the  French  forts  on  the  Ohio,  that  against  Niag- 
ara, and  that  against  Crown  Point,  have  all  been  unsuccessful,  as 
to  their  main  designs.  And  though  the  army  under  General  John- 
son had  a  kind  of  victory  over  the  French,  and  took  the  Baron 
Dieskau,  their  General,  prisoner;  yet  we  suffered  very  greatly  in 
the  batde,  and  the  taking  of  the  French  General  probably  was 
the  saving  of  his  army.  For,  by  telling  a  lie  to  our  army,  viz.  that 
the  French  were  in  constant  expectation  of  being  greatly  enforced 
by  a  large  body,  that  marched  another  way,  and  had  appointed  to 
meet  them  near  that  place,  our  army  was  prevented  from  pursuing 
the  enemy,  after  they  had  repelled  them ;  which,  if  they  had  done, 
the  French  might  have  been  under  great  advantages  to  have  cut 
them  off,  and  prevented  the  return  of  almost  all  of  them  to  Crown 
Point,  which  could  be  no  otherwise  than  through  the  water  in 
their  batteaux.  Our  army  never  proceeded  any  farther  tlian  the 
place  of  their  engagement ;  but,  having  built  a  fort  there,  near 
Lake  George,  alias,  Lake  St.  Sacrament,  after  they  had  built  an- 
other near  Hudson's  River,  about  fourteen  miles,   on  this  side  and 


552  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

left  garrisons,  has  lately  returned.  As  also  has  the  army  under  Gene- 
ral Shirley,  (who  w^ent  with  designs  against  Niagara,)  after  ha\ing 
built  some  vessels  of  force  in  the  Lake  Ontario,  and  strengthened 
the  fortifications  at  Osw^ego,  and  sent  for  the  remains  of  General 
Braddock's  army  to  Albany,  there  to  go  into  \nn.ter  quarters.  The 
Governours  of  tlie  several  Provinces,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last 
month,  had  a  meeting  to  confer  together,  concerning  our  warlike 
affairs,  and  to  agree  on  a  plan  of  operations  to  be  recommended 
to  the  government  at  home  for  the  next  year.  But  I  have  heard 
nothing  of  their  determinations.  The  Indians  have  not  done  much 
mischief  on  the  frontiers  of  New  England,  since  our  army  have 
been  about  us;  but  have  been  dreadful  in  their  ravages,  on  the  back 
settlements  of  Virginia  and  Pennsylvania. 

"  It  is  apparent  that  the  ministry  at  home  miss  it  very  much,  in 
sending  over  British  forces  to  fight  with  Indians  in  America,  and 
in  sending  over  British  officers,  to  have  the  command  of  our  Ameri- 
can forces.  Let  them  send  us  arms,  ammunition,  money  and 
shipping ;  and  let  New  England  men  manage  the  business  in  their 
own  w^ay,  who  alone  understand  it.  To  appoint  British  officers, 
over  them,  is  nothing  but  a  hindrance  and  discouragement  to  them. 
Letthem  be  well  supplied,  and  supported,  and  defended  by  sea,  and 
then  let  them  go  forth  under  their  own  officers  and  manage  in  their 
own  way,  as  they  did  in  the  expedition  against  Cape  Breton.  All 
the  Provinces  in  America  seem  to  be  fully  sensible,  that  New  Eng- 
land men  are  the  only  men  to  be  employed  against  Canada ;  as 
I  had  opportunity  abundantly  to  observe,  in  my  late  journey  to  New 
York,  New^  Jersey  and  Philadelphia.  How^ever,  we  ought  to  re- 
member that  neither  New  England  men,  nor  any  other,are  any  thing, 
unless  God  be  with  us  ;  and  when  we  have  done  all,  at  finding  f&ult 
with  men  and  instnnnents  employed,  we  cannot  expect  prosperity, 
unless  the  accursed  thing  be  removed  from  our  camp. 

"  God  has  lately  frow^ned  on  my  family,  in  taking  away  a  faithful 
servant,  w^ho  was  a  great  help  to  us ;  and  one  of  my  children  has 
been  under  threatening  infirmities,  but  is  somew^hat  better.  I  de- 
sire your  prayers  for  us  all. 

*'  My  wife  joins  with  me,  in  affectionate  and  respectful  salutations 
to  you  and  Mrs.  Erskine. 

"I  am.  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Your  obliged  brother, 

"  and  afTectionate  friend, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 

The  effect  of  the  war  on  the  Indian  Mission,  will  be  seen  from 
the  following  letter  to  Mr.  McCuHoch. 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    Ei>WARDS.  55.3 

"  Stockbrulge,  April  10,  1756. 
**  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  I  thank  you  for  your  favour  of  August,  1755,  with  Mr.  Imries' 
letter,  which  came  to  hand  in  the  latter  part  of  the  last  month. 
It  recommends  a  man,  especially  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  to 
me,  to  see  in  him  evidences  of  a  disposition  to  be  searching  into  the 
prophecies  of  Scripture,  relating  to  the  future  advancement  of 
Christ's  kingdom  on  earth.  It  looks  as  though  he  was  a  man,  who 
felt  concern  for  Christ's  kingdom  and  interests  in  the  world  ;  as 
though  he  were  one  of  those,  who  took  pleasure  in  the  stones,  and 
favoured  the  dust  of  Zion.  But  it  has  proved  by  events,  that  many 
divines,  who  have  been  of  this  character,  have  been  over  forward 
to  fix  the  times  and  the  seasons,  which  the  Father  hath  put  in  his 
own  power.  However,  I  will  not  positively  charge  Mr.  Imries 
with  this,  before  I  see  what  he  has  to  offer,  in  proof  of  those  things 
which  he  has  advanced.  I  think  that  neither  I,  nor  any  other  per- 
son, that  knows  no  more  than  what  is  contained  in  his  letter,  ol  the 
reasons  that  he  builds  his  opinions  upon,  have  any  opportunity  to 
judge  of  those  opinions.  And  therefore  I  should  think  it  a  pity, 
that  his  private  letter  to  Mr.  Hogg  was  published  to  the  world,  be- 
fore his  reasons  were  prepared  for  the  press.  This  letter  has 
been  reprinted  in  Boston :  but  coming  abroad,  with  so  little  men- 
tion of  the  grounds  of  his  opinion,  it  gives  occasion  to  tfie  profane 
to  reproach  and  ridicule  it,  and  its  author. 

"  With  respect  to  Mr.  Hawley,  and  Mr.  Brainerd,  and  their  In- 
dians, concerning  which  you  desire  to  be  informed  ;  the  Corres- 
pondents have  altered  their  determination,  from  time  to  time,  with 
respect  to  Mr.  Brainerd  and  his  Indians.  They  seemed  inclined 
at  first  to  their  removal  to  Wawwoming,  alias,  Wyoming,  and  then 
to  Onohquaga,  and  then  to  Wyoming  again ;  and  finally,  about  a 
twelvemonth  ago,  they  wholly  dismissed  him  from  employ  as  a  mis- 
sionary to  the  Indians,  and  pastor  to  the  Indian  Church  at  Bethel. 
I  cannot  say  I  am  fully  satisfied  with  their  conduct  in  doing  this  so 
hastily;  nor  do  I  pretend  to  know  so  much,  concerning  the  reasons 
of  their  conduct,  as  to  have  sufficient  grounds  positively  to  condemn 
their  proceedings.  However,  the  congregation  is  not  wholly  left, 
as  sheep  without  a  shepherd,  and  are  in  part  committed  to  the  care 
of  Mr.  William  Tennent,  who  lives  not  far  off,  and  is  a  faithful, 
zealous  minister,  who  visits  them,  and  preaches  to  them,  once  a 
\Veek;  but  I  think  not  often  upon  the  sabbath.  The  last  fidl,  I 
was  in  New  Jersey  and  Philadelphia,  and  was  present  at  a  meeting 
of  the  Correspondents  ;  when  Mr.  Tennent  gave  an  agreeable  ac- 
count of  the  then  present  state  of  these  Indians,  with  respect  to  re- 
ligion, and  also  of  their  being  in  better  circumstances,  as  to  their 
lands,  than  they  had  been.  Mr.  Brainerd  was  then  at  Newark  with 
his  family,  where  he  had  been  preaching,  as  a  probationer  for  set- 
tlement, ever  since  Mr.  Burr's  dismission  from  that  place,  on  ac- 

VoL.  I.  70 


554  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EBWARDS. 

count  of  his  business  as  President  of  the  College.  But  whether 
Mr.  Brainerd  is  settled,  or  like  to  settle  there,  1  have  not  heard. 
At  the  forenientioned  meeting  of  the  Correspondents,  I  used  some 
arguments,  to  induce  them  to  re-establish  Mr.  Brainerd,  in  his  for- 
mer employ  with  his  Indians,  and  to  send  them  to  Onohquaugha. 
-But  I  soon  found  it  would  be  fruidess  to  urge  the  matter.  What 
was  chiefly  insisted  on,  as  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  Mr.  Brainerd 's 
going,  with  his  family,  so  far  into  tiie  wilderness,  was  Mrs.  Bram- 
erd's  very  infirm  state.  Vv  h.^ther  tliere  was  indeed  any  sufficient 
objection  to  such  a  removal,  ui  that  time,  or  no ;  divine  Provi- 
dence, has,  since  that,  so  ordered  the  state  and  consequences  of 
the  war,  subsisting  here  in  America,  that  insuperable  obstacles  are 
laid  in  the  way  of  their  removal,  either  to  Onohquauga,  Wow- 
woming,  or  any  other  parts  ol'  America,  that  way.  The  French, 
by  their  indefatigable  endeavours  with  tlie  nation  of  the  Delawares, 
so  called,  from  their  ancient  seat  about  Delaware  river,  though  now 
chiefly  residing  on  the  Susquehannah  and  its  branches,  have 
stirred  them  up  to  make  war  on  the  Engiish ;  and  dreadful  have 
been  the  ravages  and  desolations,  which  they  have  made  of  late,  on 
the  back  parts  of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey.  They  are  the  prin*- 
cipal  nation,  inhabiting  the  parts  about  Susquehannah  river,  on 
which  both  Wyoming  and  Onohquau2;a  stand.  The  latter 
mdeed  is  above  the  bounds  of  their  country,  but  yet  not  very  far 
from  them:  and  the  Delaw^are  Indians  are  frequently  there,  as 
they  go  to  and  fro  ;  on  w^hich  account  there  is  great  danger,  that 
Mr.  Hawley's  mission  and  ministry  there  will  be  entirely  broken 
up.  Mr.  Hawley  came  from  there  about  two  months  ago,  with  one 
of  my  sons,  about  ten  years  old  ;  who  had  been  there  with  him  near 
a  twelvemonth,  to  learn  the  Mohawk  language.  Me  has  since  been 
to  Boston,  to  consult  the  Commissioners  for  Indian  affairs,  that 
have  employed  him,  and  returned:  and  yesterday  went  from  my 
house,  to  meet  some  of  his  Indians,  at  an  appointed  time  and  place 
in  the  Mohawk  country ;  to  determine  with  them,  whether  it  will 
be  safe  for  him  to  return  to  abide  with  them.  If  not,  yet  will  he 
be  under  the  pay  of  the  Commissioners  till  next  fall,  and  the  issue 
be  seen  of  the  two  expeditions  now  in  prosecution,  one  against 
Crown  Point,  the  other  against  the  French  forts  at  Frontenac  and 
Niagara,  near  Lake  Ontario  ;  which  may  possibly  make  a  great  al- 
teration, as  to  the  state  of  the  war  with  the  Indians.  If  Mr.  Haw- 
ley determines  not  to  return  to  Onohquauga  this  spring,  he  will 
probably  go  as  chaplain  to  the  Indians,  in  General  Shirley's  army, 
in  the  expedition  to  Lake  Ontario. 

*' You  speak  of  the  vast  superiority  of  the  numbers  of  the  Eng- 
lish, in  America,  to  those  of  the  French ;  and  that  some  therctore 
think,  the  setdements  of  the  former  are  in  no  great  danger  from  the 
latter.  Though  it  be  true,  that  the  French  are  twenty  times  less 
than  we  are  in  nupiber,  yet  it  may  be   a  question,  whether  otheT 


LIFE    OF    PRiiSIDENT    EDWAllDS.  555 

things,  in  which  they  exceed  us,  when  all  jointly  considered,  will  not 
more  than  counterbalance  all  our  excess  of  numbers.  They  vastly 
exceed  us  in  subtlety  and  intrigue,  in  vigilance  and  activity,  in 
speed  and  secrecy ;  in  acquaintance  with  the  continent  ol'  North 
America,  in  all  parts  west  of  the  British  settlements,  for  many  hun- 
dred leagues,  the  rivers,  lakes  and  mountains,  the  avenues  and 
passes;  and  also  in  the  influence  they  have  among  the  various  tribes 
and  nations  of  Indians,  and  in  their  constant  skill,  and  indefatigable 
diligence  in  managing  them,  to  alienate  them  from  the  English, 
attach  them  firmly  to  themselves,  and  employ  them  as  their  tools. 
Beside  the  vast  advantage  diey  have,  in  time  of  war,  in  having  all 
united  under  the  absolute  command  of  one  man,  the  Governour  of 
Canada ;  while  we  are  divided  into  a  great  many  distinct  govern- 
ments, independent  one  of  another,  and,  in  some  respects,  of  clash- 
ing interests  :  interests,  which  unspeakably  clog  and  embarrass  our 
affairs,  and  make  us,  though  a  great,  yet  an  unwieldly,  unmanagea- 
ble body,  and  an  easy  prey  to  our  vigilant,  secret,  subtle,  swift  and 
active,  though  comparatively  small,  enemy. 

"  As  to  a  description  of  the  situation  of  those  parts  you  mention, 
I  can  give  you  no  better  than  you  have,  in  many  that  abound  in 
Great  Britain.  With  respect  to  the  situation  of  Stockb ridge,  it  is 
not  in  the  Province  of  New  York,  as  you  have  been  informed,  but 
in  the  utmost  border  of  the  Province  of  Massachusetts,  on  the 
west,  next  to  the  Province  of  New  York  ;  about  40  miles  west  of 
Connecticut  river,  about  25  miles  east  of  Hudson's  river,  and  about 
35  miles  south  east  from  Albany :  a  place  exposed  in  this  time 
of  war.  Four  persons  were  killed  here,  in  the  beginning  of  Sep- 
tember, 1754,  by  Canada  Indians  ;  which  occasioned  a  great  alarm 
to  us,  and  to  a  great  part  of  New  England.  Since  then,  we  have 
had  many  alarms  ;  but  God  has  preserved  us. 

"  I  desire  your  prayers  that  we  may  still  be  preserved,  and  that 
God  would  be  with  me  and  my  family,  and  people,  and  bless  us  in 
all  respects.  My  wife  and  family  join  with  me,  in  their  respects  to 
you  and  yours. 

"I  am,  dear  Sir,  your  affectionate  brother  and  servant, 

"Jonathan  Edwards, 

In  consequence  of  the  ill  success  attending  the  British  arms,  du- 
ring the  campaign  of  '56,  the  danger  of  the  frontiers  became  ex:- 
treme,  and  the  friends  of  Mr.  Edwards  were,  for  a  time,  exceedingly 
anxious  for  his  personal  safety.  Mr.  Bellamy,  at  this  period,  sent 
him  the  following  kind  invitation,  to  look  to  Bethlem,  as  the  place 
of  retreat,  for  himself  and  his  family. 

''Bethlem,  May  31,  1756. 
"  Dear  Sir, 

"  I  am  in  pain,  fearing  our  army  against  Crown  Point  will  be 
defeated.     God  only  knows,  how  it  will  be.     Your  own  discretioii 


556  LkFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS'. 

wiW  make  you  sufficiently  speedy,  to  secure  yourself  and  family. 
We  stand  as  ready  to  receive  you,  and  any  of  your  family,  to  all 
the  comforts  our  house  affords,  as  if  you  were  our  children.  I  am 
greatly  interested  in  your  safety. — I  am  concerned  for  Mr.  Haw- 
ley.  I  fear  he  will  be  too  venturesome,  and  fling  away  his  life  for 
nothing. — I  wish,  if  you  know  how  to  get  one  along,  you  would 
send  him  a  letter. — Our  youngest  child  still  remains  somewhat 
unwell.  The  Indian  boys  grow  more  and  more  easy  and  content, 
but  they  love  play  too  well — are  veiy  ignorant — and  very  stupid, 
as  to  the  things  of  religion — and  in  Arithmetic,  when  I  would  teach 
them  any  thing  that  is  a  little  difficult,  they  are  soon  discouraged, 
and  don't  love  to  try.  So  I  take  them  off,  and  put  them  to  writing 
again — designing,  by  litde  and  little,  to  get  them  along.  They  will 
not  endure  hardship,  and  bend  their  minds  to  business,  like  English 
boys.  It  seems  they  were  never  taught  their  Catechism  :  Shall  I 
teach  it  ?  I  have  got  three  Bibles ;  but  have  not  yet  given  them  to 
the  boys,  they  are  so  ignorant.  I  expect  you  will  give  me  any  in- 
structions jou  think  proper ;  and  remain.  Rev.  Sir, 
"  Your  unworthy  friend  and  servant, 

"J.  Bellamy." 

It  is  probable  that  Mr.  Edwards  began  his  Treatise  on  Original 
Sin,  about  this  period,  and  that  he  devoted  the  leisure  hours  of  the 
summer,  autumn  and  winter,  to  the  preparation  of  that  work.  The 
date  of  the  author's  Preface,  May  26,  1757,  shows  the  time  when 
it  was  finished  for  the  press. 

The  views  of  Mr.  Edwards,  in  this  Treatise,  are  these  :  that 
there  is  a  tendency  in  human  nature,  prevailing  and  effectual,  to 
tliat  sin,  which  implies  the  utter  ruin  of  all ;  that  this  tendency  ori- 
ginates in  the  sin  of  Adam,  of  uhich  the  whole  race  are  imputed 
the  partakers ;  and  that  this  tendency  consists,  in  their  being  left  of 
God,  at  their  original,  in  the  possession  of  merely  human  appetites 
and  passions,  in  themselves  "innocent,"  and  withoutthe  influx  of  those 
superior  principles,  which  come  from  divine  influences.  The  only 
guilt,  attributed  by  him  to  mankind,  before  they  come  to  the  exer- 
cise of  moral  agency  themselves,  is  that  of  participating  in  the  apos- 
tasy of  Adam,  in  consequence  of  the  original  constitution  of  God,, 
which  made  him  and  his  race  "  o/ie." 

He  supposes  this  tendency  to  sin,  pertaining  to  men,  at  their  ori- 
ginal, to  constitute  the  subject  of  it  a  sinner,  only,  because  he  re- 
gards him  as  a  participator  in  that  sin,  by  which  Adam  apostatized, 
wdth  his  whole  race.  This  tendency,  he  calls  "sinful,"  "  corrupt," 
"  odious,"  etc.,  because  it  is  a  tendency  "  to  that  7no}'(d  evil,  by 
which,  the  subject  of  it  becomes  odious  in  the  sight  of  God." 
(Part  I.  Chap.  II.  Sec.  III.)  He  supposes  that  infants,  who  have 
this  tendency  in  their  nature,  are,  as  yet,  "  sinners,  only  by  the  one 
act  or  offence  of  Adara  ;"  and,  that  "  they  have  not  renewed  th* 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  '     30l 

act  of  sin  themselves."  (Part  I.  Chap.  IV.)  He  utterly  denies 
any  positive  agency  of  God,  in  producing  sin  ;  and  resolves  the  ten- 
dency to  sin,  into  the  "  innocent  principles"  of  human  nature ; 
(which  God  might  create,  without  sin ;)  and  the  withholding  of 
that  positive  influence,  from  which  spring  superior  and  divine  prin- 
ciples : — which  act  of  withholding,  is  not  infusing,  or  positively  cre- 
ating, any  thing.  These  "  innocent  principles" — such  as  hunger 
and  thirst,  love  and  hatred,  desire  and  fear,  joy  and  sorrow,  and 
self-love,  as  distinguished  from  selfishness, — which  are  necessary 
to  the  nature  of  man,  and  helong  to  him,  whether  holy  or  sinful,  are 
not,  in  his  view,  sin.  They  barely  constitute  the  ground  of  cer- 
tainty, that  the  being,  who  has  them,  will  sin,  as  soon  as  he  is  ca- 
pable of  sinning,  if  that  positive  influence,  from  which  spring  supe- 
rior and  divine  principles,  is  withheld ;  and,  in  tliis  relation,  they 
are  spoken  of,  under  the  general  designation,  "a  tendency,"  "a 
propensity,"  etc.  to  sin. 

The  views  of  Imputation,  contained  in  this  work,  are  such,  a« 
had  been  long  and  extensively  entertained ;  yet,  some  of  them, 
certainly,  are  not  generally  received,  at  present.  With  this  excep- 
tion, the  Treatise  on  Original  Sin  is  regarded  as  the  standard  work, 
on  the  subject  of  which  it  treats ;  and  is  doubtless  the  ablest  de- 
fence of  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity,  and  of  the  doctrine  that 
that  depravity  is  the  consequence  of  tlie  sin  of  Adam,  which  has 
hitherto  appeared. 

The  father  of  Mr.  Edwards,  as  the  reader  may  remember,  on 
account  of  the  increasing  infirmities  of  age,  had  requested  his  peo- 
ple to  settle  a  colleague  ir  the  ministry  in  1752,  but  continued  to 
preach  to  them  regularly  until  the  summer  of  1755,  when  he  was 
in  his  eighty-seventh  year.  The  following  letter,  probably  the  last 
ever  wTitten  to  him  by  his  son,  shows  the  gradual  decline  of  his 
health  and  strength,  during  the  two  following  years. 

"To  the  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards,  East  Windsor. 

"  Stockhridge,  March  24,  1757. 
"  Honoured  Sir, 

"  I  take  this  opportunity  just  to  inform"you,  that,  through  the 
goodness  of  God,  we  are  all  in  a  comfortable  state  of  health,  and 
that  we  have  heard,  not  long  since,  of  the  welfare  of  our  children 
in  New  Jersey  and  Northampton.  I  intend,  God  willing,  to  be  at 
Windsor  some  time  near  the  beginning  of  June  ;  proposing  then  to 
go  a  journey  to  Boston.  I  intended  to  have  gone  sooner  ;  but  I 
foresee  such  hindrances,  as  will  probably  prevent  my  going  till 
that  time.  We  rejoice  much  to  hear,  by  Mr.  Andrewson,  of 
your  being  so  well,  as  to  be  able  to  baptize  a  child  at  your  own 
house  the  Sabbath  before  last.  We  all  miite  in  duty  to  you  and  my 
honoured  mother,  and  in  respectful  and  aiFectionate  salutations  to 


558  LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

sisters  and  cousins ;  and  in  a  request  of  a  constant  remembrance  in 
your  prayers. 

"  I  am,  honoured  Sir, 

''Your  dutiful   son, 

"  Jonathan  Edwards," 

Not  long  after  Mr.  Edwards  had  forwarded  to  Mr.  Erskine  his 
vindication  of  himself,^  against  the  charge  of  having  advanced,  in 
the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  the  same  views  of  Liberty  and  Necessity, 
with  those  exhibited  by  Lord  Kaimes ;  he  received  from  his  friend 
a  pamphlet,  entitled  "  Objections  to  the  Essays  on  the  Principles 
of  Morality  and  Natural  Religion  examined  ;"  in  which  the  opinion 
was  directly  advanced,  that,  if  it  were  really  true,  (as  Mr.  Edwards 
had  insisted  and  demonstrated  in  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,)  that 
there  is  no  i^iberty  of  Contmgence,  nor  Self-determining  Power  in 
the  Will^  as  opposed  to  Moral  JVecessity,  or  the  Certain  Connec- 
tion between  motives  and  volitions  ;  yet  it  was  best  for  mankind, 
that  the  truth,  in  this  respect,  should  not  be  known,  because,  in 
that  case,  they  would  not  regard  eitlier  themselves,  or  others,  as  de- 
serving of  praise  or  blame  for  their  conduct.  In  the  following  let- 
ter, Mr.  Edwards  exposes  the  folly  and  absurdity  of  this  opinion ; 
and  explains,  in  a  remarkably  clear  and  convincing  manner,  the 
practical  hearing  of  the  great  principles  advanced  in  the  Freedom 
of  the  Will,  on  the  subject  of  salvation.  This  letter  might  w^ell 
have  befen  published  at  the  time,  and  circulated  through  the  Church 
at  large.  And  we  recommend  it  to  the  frequent  and  prayerful  pe- 
rusal both  of  those  clergymen,  who  cannot  clearly  comprehend  the 
distinction  between  Physical,  and  Moral,  Inability,  and  of  those,  who 
do  not  perceive  the  importance  of  explaining  and  enforcing  this  dis- 
tinction from  the  desk ;  as  exhibiting  the  consequences  of  repre- 
senting impenitent  sinners,  to  be  possessed  of  any  other  Inability  to 
repent  and  believe,  than  mere  Unwillingness,  in  a  manner  too  aw- 
ful to  be  resisted,  by  a  conscientious  mind. 

"  To  Mr.  Erskine. 

"  Stockbridge,  August  3,  1757. 

'*Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"In  June  last,  I  received  a  letter  from  you,  dated  January  22, 
1757,  with  "Mr.  Anderson's  complaint  verified,"  and  "  Objections 
to  the  Essays*  examined."  For  these  things,  I  now  return  yoa 
my  hearty  thanks. 

"  The   conduct  of  the  vindicator  of  the  "  Essays,"  from  objec- 


*  See  Vol.  II.  pp.  290—300. 

*  Essays  on  the  principles  of  Morality  and  Natural  Religion,  by  Lord 
Kaimes. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  559 

tions  made  against  them,  seems  to  be  very  odd.  Many  things  are 
produced  from  Calvin,  and  several  Calvinistic  writers,  xo  der'end 
what  is  not  objected  against.  His  book  is  almost  wholly  taken  up 
about  that,  which  is  nothing  to  the  purpose  ;  perhaps  only  to  auiuse 
and  blind  the  common  people.  According  to  your  proposal,  1  hive 
drawn  up  something,  stating  the  difference  between  my  hypothesis, 
and  that  of  the  Essays ;  which  I  have  sent  to  you,  to  be  printed  in 
Scotland,  if  it  be  thought  best ;  or  to  be  disposed  of  as  you  think 
proper.f  I  have  written  it  in  a  letter  to  you  :  and  if  it  be  publish- 
ed, it  may  be  as  "  A  letter  from  me  to  a  minister  m  Scodand." 
Lord  Kaimes's  notion  of  God's  deceiving  mankmd,  bv  a  kuid  oT  in- 
vincible or  natural  instinct  or  feeling,  leading  them  to  suppose,  iijat 
they  have  a  liberty  ot  Contingence  and  Self-determinotion  of  Will, 
in  order  to  make  them  believe  themselves  and  others  worthy  to 
be  blamed  or  praised  for  what  they  do,  is  a  strange  notion  indeed ; 
and  it  is  hard  for  me  to  conjecture,  what  his  views  could  be,  in 
publishing  such  things  to  the  world. 

"  However-,  by  what  I  have  heard,  some  others  seem  to  be  so 
far  of  the  same  mind,  that  they  think,  that  if  it  be  really  true,  that 
there  is  no  self-determining  power  in  the  will,  as  opposed  to  any 
such  moral  necessity,  as  T  speak  of,  consisting  in  a  certam  connex- 
ion between  motives  and  volitions,  it  is  of  mischievous  tendency  to 
say  any  thine:  of  it;  and  that  it  is  best  that  the  truth  in  this  maiier 
should  not  be  known,  by  any  means.  I  cannot  but  be  of  an  ex- 
tremely d]iTere)it  mind.  On  the  contrary,  I  think  that  the  notion  of 
Liberty,  consisting  in  a  Contingent  self-deter miaation  of  the  IVill, 
as  necessary  tq  the  morahty  of  men's  dispositions  and  actions,  is 
almost  inconceivably  pernicious  ;  and  that  the  contrary  truth  is  one 
of  the  most  important  truths  of  moral  philosophy,  that  ever  was  dis- 
cussed, and  most  necessary  to  be  known  ;  and  that  for  want  ot  it, 
those  schemes  of  morality  and  religion,  which  are  a  kind  of  Infidel 
schemes,  entirely  diverse  from  the  virtue  and  religion  of  the  Bible, 
and  wholly  inconsistent  with,  and  subversive  of,  the  main  thmgs 
belonging  to  the  gospel  scheme,  have  so  vastly  and  so  long,  pre- 
vailed, and  have  stood  in  such  strength.  And  I  think,  whoever 
imagines  that  he,  or  any  body  else,  shall  ever  see  the  doctrines  of 
grace  effectually  maintained  against  these  adversaries,  till  the  truth 
in  this  matter  be  settled,  imagines  a  vain  thing.  For,  allow  these 
adversaries  what  they  maintain  in  this  point,  and  I  think  they  have 
strict  demonstration  against  us.  And  not  only  have  these  errors  a 
most  pernicious  influence,  in  the  public  rehgious  controversies,  that 
are  maintained  in  the  world  ;  but  such  sort  of  notions  have  a  more 
fatal  influence  many  ways,  on  tiie  minds  of  all  ranks,  in  all  trans- 
actions between  God  and  their  souls.     The  longer  I  live,  and  the 


■\  See  the  letter  in  Vol.  II.  pp.  290—300. 


560  LIFE    0P    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

more  I  have  to  do  with  the  souls  of  men,  in  the  work  of  the  minis- 
try, the  more  I  see  oF  this.  Notions  of  this  sort  are  one  of  the 
main  hindrances  of  the  success  of  the  preaching  of  the  word,  and 
other  means  of  grace,  in  the  conversion  of  sinners.  This  especial- 
ly appears,  when  the  minds  of  sinners  are  affected  with  some  con- 
cern for  their  souL,  and  they  are  stirred  up  to  seek  their  salvation. 
Nothing  is  more  necessary  for  men,  in  such  circumstances,  than 
thorough  conviction  and  humiliation  ;  than  that  their  consciences 
should  be  properly  convinced  of  their  real  guilt  and  sinfulness  in 
the  sight  of  God,  and  their  deserving  of  his  wrath.  But  who  is 
there,  that  has  had  experience  of  the  work  of  a  minister,  in  dealing 
with  souls  in  such  circumstances,  that  does  not  find  that  the  thing,  that 
m?.inly  prevents  this,  is  men's  excusing  themselves  with  their  own 
inability,  and  the  moral  necessity  of  those  things,  wherein  their  ex- 
ceeding guilt  and  sinfulness  in  the  sight  of  God,  most  fundamental- 
ly and  mainly  consist :  such  as,  living  from  day  to  day.  without  one 
spark  of  true  love  to  the  God  of  infinite  glory,  and  the  Fountain  of  all 
good ;  their  having  greater  complacency,  in  the  little  vile  things  of 
this  world,  than  in  him;  their  living  in  a  rejection  of  Christ,  with 
all  his  glorious  benefits  and  dying  love  ;  and  after  all  the  exhibition 
of  his  glory  and  grace,  having  their  hearts  still  as  cold  as  a  stOne 
towards  Him  ;  and  their  living  in  such  ingratitude,  for  that  infinite 
mercy  of  his  laying  down  his  life  for  sinners.  They,  it  may  be, 
thmk  of  some  mstances  of  lewd  behaviour,  lying,  dishonesty,  in- 
temperance, profaneness,  etc.  But  the  grand  principles  of  iniqui- 
ty, constantly  abiding  and  reigning,  from  whence  all  proceeds,  are 
all  overlooked.  Conscience  does  not  condemn  them  for  those 
things,  because  they  cannot  love  God  of  themselves,  they  cannot  he- 
lieve  of  themselves,  and  the  like.  They  rather  lay  the  blame  of 
these  things,  and  their  other  reigning  wicked  dispositions  of  heart, 
to  God,  and  secretly  charge  him  with  all  the  blame.  These  things 
are  very  much,  for  want  of  being  thoroughly  instructed,  in  that 
great  and  important  tr'ith,  that  a  bad  ivill,  or  an  evil  disposition  of 
heart,  itself,  is  wickedness.  It  is  wickedness,  in  its  very  being,  na- 
tme  and  essence,  and  not  merely  the  occasion  of  it,  or  the  deter- 
mining influence,  that  it  was  at  first  owing  to.  Some,  it  may  be. 
will  say, "  they  own  it  is  their  fault  that  they  have  so  bad  a  heart,  that 
they  have  no  love  to  God,  no  true  faith  in  Christ,  no  gratitude  to 
him,  because  they  have  been  careless  and  slothful  in  times  past, 
and  have  not  used  means  to  obtan  a  better  heart,  as  they  should 
have  done."  And  it  may  be,  they  are  taught,  "  that  they  are  to 
blame  for  their  wickedness  of  heart,  because  they,  as  it  were, 
brought  it  on  themselves,  in  Adam,  by  the  sin  which  he  voluntarily 
committed,  which  sin  is  jusdy  charged  to  their  account ;"  which 
perhaps  they  do  not  deny.  But  how  far  are  these  things  from  be- 
ing H  proper  conviction  of  their  wickedness,  in  their  enmity  to  God 
and   Christ.     To  be  convinced  of  the  sin  of  something  that,  long 


UFE    01-    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  ^61 

•ago,  was  the  occasion  of  their  enmity  to  God  ;  and  to  be  convinced 
of  the  wickedness  of  the  enmity  itself ;  are  quite  two  things.  And 
if  sinners,  under  some  awakening,  find  the  exercise  of  corruption  of 
heart,  as  it  appears  in  a  great  many  ways ;  in  their  meditations, 
prayers,  and  other  religious  duties,  and  on  occasion  of  their  fears  of 
hell,  etc.  etc.  ;  still,  this  notion  of  their  inability  to  help  it,  excusing 
them,  will  keep  them  from  proper  conviction  of  sin  herein.  Fears 
of  hell  tend  to  convince  men  oi  the  hardness  of  their  hearts.  But 
then,  when  they  find  how  hard  their  hearts  are,  and  how  far  from 
a  proper  sensibility  and  affection  m  things  of  religion ;  they  are  kept 
from  properly  condemning  themselves  lor  it,  from  the  moral  neces" 
sity,  or  inability,  which  attends  it.  For  the  very  notion  of  hard- 
ness of  heart,  implies  moral  inability.  The  harder  the  heart  is,  the 
more  dead  is  it  in  sin,  and  the  more  unable  to  exert  good  affections 
and  acts.  Thus  the  strength  of  sin,  is  made  the  excuse  for  sin. 
And  thus  I  have  known  many  under  fears  of  hell,  justifying,  or  ex- 
cusing, themselves,  at  least  implicitly,  in  horrid  workings  of  enmity 
agfinst  God,  in  blasphemous  thoughts,  etc. 

"  It  is  of  great  importance,  that  they,  that  are  seeking  their  sal- 
vation, should  be  brought  off  from  all  dependence  on  their  own  right- 
eousness :  but  these  notions  above  all  tilings  prevent  it.  They  jus- 
tify themselves,  in  the  sincerity  of  their  endeavours.  They  say  to 
themselves,  that  they  do  what  they  can ;  they  take  great  pains ;  and 
though  there  be  great  imperfection  in  what  they  do,  and  many  evil 
workings  of  heart  arise,  yet  these  they  cannot  help  :  here  moral  ne- 
cessity, or  inability,  comes  in  as  an  excuse.  Things  of  this  kind 
have  visibly  been  the  main  hindrance  of  the  true  humiliation  and 
conversion  of  sinners,  in  tlie  times  of  awakening,  that  have  been  in 
this  land,  everywhere,  in  all  parts,  as  I  have  had  opportunity  to  ob- 
serve, in  very  many  places.  When  the  gospel  is  preached,  and  its 
offers,  and  invitations,  and  motives,  most  powerfully  urged,  and  some 
hearts  stand  out,  here  is  their  strong  hold,  their  sheet-anchor. 
Were  it  not  for  this,  they  would  either  comply ;  or  their  hearts 
would  condemn  them,  for  their  horrid  guilt  in  not  complying.  And 
if  the  law  of  God  be  preached  in  its  strictness  and  spirituality, 
yet  conscience  is  not  properly  convinced  by  it.  They  justify  them- 
selves with  their  inability ;  and  the  design  and  end  of  the  law,  as  a 
school-master,  to  fit  them  for  Christ,  is  defeated.  Thus  both  the 
law  and  the  gospel  are  prevented  from  having  their  proper  effect. 

"  The  doctrine  of  a  Self-determining  Will,  as  the  ground  of  all 
moral  good  and  evil,  tends  to  prevent  any  proper  exercises  of 
faith  in  God  and  Christ,  in  the  affair  of  our  salvation,  as  it  tends 
to  prevent  all  dependence  upon  them.  For,  instead  of  this,  it  teaclies 
a  kind  of  absolute  independence  on  all  those  things,  that  are  of  chief 
importance  in  this  affair ;  our  righteousness  depending  origiT)-  lly 
on  our  own  acts,  as  self-determined.  Thus  our  own  holiness  is 
from  ourselves,  as  its  determining;  cause,  and  its  orig;inal  and  high- 

VoL.  I.  ^71 


b&2  JblFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

est  source.  And  as  for  imputed  righteousness,  that  should  hav«- 
any  merit  at  all  in  it,  to  be  sure,  there  can  be  no  such  thing. 
For  self-determination  is  necessary  to  praise  and  merit.  But 
what  is  imputed  from  another  is  not  from  our  self-determination 
or  action.  And  truly,  in  tiiis  scheme,  man  is  not  dependent  on 
God ;  but  God  is  rather  dependent  on  man  in  this  affair :  for 
he  only  operates  consequentially  m  acts,  in  which  he  depends  oil 
what  he  sees  we  detemiine,  and  do  first. 

''  The  nature  of  true  faith  implies  a  disposition,  to  give  all  the 
glory  of  our  salvation  to  God  and  Ciirist.  But  this  notion  is  incon- 
sistent with  it,  for  it  in  effect  gives  the  glory  wholly  to  man. 
For  that  is  the  very  doctrine  that  is  taught,  that  the  merit  and 
praise  is  liis,  whose  is  the  original  and  effectual  determination  of 
the  praiseworthy  deed.  So  that,  on  the  whole,  I  think  it  must  be  a 
miracle,  if  ever  men  are  converted,  that  have  imbibed  such  no- 
tions as  these,  and  are  under  their  influence  in  their  religious 
concerns. 

"  Yea,  these  notions  tend  effectually  to  prevent  men's  ever  seek- 
ing after  conversion,  with  any  earnestness.  It  is  manifest,  that 
men  never  will  be  in  earnest  in  this  matter,  till  their  consciences 
are  awakened,  and  they  are  made  sensible  of  God's  anger,  and 
their  danger  of  suffering  the  terrible  effects  of  it.  But  that  stu- 
pidity, which  is  opposed  to  this  awakening,  is  upheld  chiefly  by  these 
two  things :  their  insensibility  of  their  gudt,  in  what  is  past,  and 
present;  and  their  flattering  themselves,  as  to  what  is  future. 
These  notions  of  liberty  of  indifference,  contingence,  and  self-de- 
termination, as  essential  to  guilt  or  merit,  tend  to  preclude  all  sense 
of  any  great  guilt  for  past  or  present  wickedness.  As  has  been  ob- 
served already,  all  wickedness  of  heart  is  excused,  as  what,  in  it- 
self considered,  brings  no  guilt.  And  all  that  the  conscience  has 
to  recur  to,  to  find  any  guilt,  is  the  first  wrong  determination 
of  the  will,  in  some  bad  conduct,  before  that  wickedness  of  heart 
existed,  that  was  the  occasion  of  introducing  or  confirming  it. 
Which  determination  arose  contingently  from  a  state  of  indifference. 
And  how  small  a  matter  does  this  at  once  bring  men's  guilt  to, 
when  all  the  main  things,  wherein  their  wickedness  consists,  are 
passed  over.  And  indeed  the  more  diese  principles  are  pursued, 
the  more  and  more  must  guilt  vanish,  till  at  last  it  comes  to  nothing, 
as  may  easily  be  shown. 

"  And  with  respect  to  self-flattery  and  presumption,  as  to  what  is 
future,  nothing  can  possibly  be  conceived  more  directly  tending  to 
it,  than  a  nofion  of  a  liberty,  at  all  times  possessed,  consisting  in  a 
power  to  determine  one's  own  will  to  good  or  evil ;  which  implies  a 
power  men  have,  at  all  times,  to  determine  them  to  repent  and 
turn  to  God.  And  what  can  more  effectually  encourage  the  sinner, 
in  present  delays  and  neglects,  and  embolden  him  to  go  on  in  sin. 
i;n  a  presumption  of  having  his  ewa  salvafion  at  all  tim  es  at  his  cowir 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARBti.  5G^ 

mand  ?  And  this  notion  of  self-determination  and  self-dependence, 
tends  to  prevent,  or  enervate,  all  prayer  to  God  for  converting 
grace ;  tor  why  should  men  earnestly  cry  to  God  for  his  grace, 
to  determine  their  hearts  to  that,  which  they  must  be  determined 
to  of  themselves.  And  indeed  it  destroys  the  very  notion  of  con- 
version itself.  There  can  properly  be  no  such  thing,  or  any 
thing  akin  to  what  the  scripture  speaks  of  conversion,  renova- 
tion of  the  heart,  regeneration,  etc.  if  growing  good,  by  a  num- 
ber of  self-determined  acts,  are  all  that  is  required,  or  to  be  ex- 
pected. 

"Excuse  me.  Sir,  for  troubling  you  with  so  much  on  this  head. 
I  speak  from  the  fulness  of  my  heart.  What  I  have  long  seen  of 
the  dreadful  consequences  of  these  prevalent  notions  every  where, 
and  what  I  am  convinced  will  still  be  their  consequences  so  Icng,  as 
they  continue  to  prevail^  fills  me  with  concern.  1  therefore  wish 
that  the  affair  were  moie  thorouglily  looked  into,  and  searched  to 
the  very  bottom. 

"I  have  reserved  a  copy  of  this  letter,  and  also  of  my  other  to 
you,  dated  July  25,  intending  to  send  them  to  Mr.  Burr,  to  be  by 
him  conveyed,  by  the  way  of  New- York  or  Philadelphia.  Look- 
ing on  these  letters  as  of  special  importance,  I  send  duplicates,  lest 
one  copy  should  fail.  The  pacquet,  in  which  I  inclose  this,  I  cover 
to  Mr.  Gillies,  and  send  to  Boston,  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Hyslop,  to  be 
conveyed  to  Mr.  Gillies.  But  yet  have  desired  him,  if  he  has  a 
more  direct  oppormnity,  to  convey  the  pacquet  to  Edinburgh,  by  tlie 
way  of  London,  then  to  put  a  wrapper  over  the  v.hole,  inscribed  to 
you;  and  to  write  to  you,  desiring  you  to  break  open  the  pacquet, 
and  take  out  the  letters  which  belong  to  you. 

"  You  will  see,  Su-,  something  of  our  sorrowful  state,  on  tliis  side 
of  the  water,  by  my  letter  to  Mr.  M'Culloch.  O,  Sir,  pray  for  us  ; 
and  pray  in  particular,  for 

"  Your  affectionate  and  obliged 
"  Friend  and  brother, 

"Jonathan  Edwards." 


CHAPTER   XXX. 

Beath  of  President  Burr. — His  character. — Mr.  Edivards  cho- 
sen his  successor. — Letters  of  Mrs.  Burr, — To  a  gentleman  in 
Scotland — To  a  gentleman  in  Boston — To  her  Mother. — Let- 
ter of  Mr.  Edwards,  to  the  Trustees  of  the  College. — Letter  of 
Mrs.  Burr,  to  her  father. — Letter  to  Dr.  Bellamy. — -Council 
dismiss  Mr.  Edivards. — Liauguration  as  President. — First 
Sermon  at  Princeton. — Sickness. — Death. — Letter  of  Dr.  Ship^ 
pgji^ — Letters  of  Mrs.  Edwards,  and  of  her  daughter,  to  Mrs. 
Burr. — Death  of  Mrs.  Burr. — Death  of  Mrs.  Edwards, 

The  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  President  of  the  College  at  Princeton, 
and  the  son-in-law  of  Mr.  Edwards,  died,  on  the  24th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1757,  two  days  before  the  public  Commencement.  He  was 
a  native  of  Fairfield,  Connecticut,  was  born  in  1716,  and  was 
graduated  at  Yale  College,  in  1735.  In  1738,  he  was  ordained, 
as  pastor  of  the  Presbyterian  Church  at  Newark.  In  1748,  he 
was  unanimously  elected  President  of  the  College,  as  successor  to 
Mr.  Dickinson.  Though  possessed  of  a  slender  and  delicate  con- 
stitution, he  joined,  to  uucommon  talents  for  the  dispatch  of  business, 
a  constancy  of  mind,  that  commonly  secured  to  him  success.  The 
flourishing  state  of  the  College,  at  the  time  of  his  death,  was  chief- 
ly owing  to  his  great  and  assiduous  exertions.  Until  the  autumn 
of  1755,  he  discharged  the  duties,  both  of  President  and  Pastor  of 
the  Church.*  Mr.  Burr  was  greatly  respected,  in  every  station 
and  relation  of  life.  He  w^as  a  man  of  acknowledged  talents,  of 
sound,  practical  good  sense,  of  unimpeachable  integrity,  and  of  ar- 
dent piety.  Polished  in  his  manners,  he  had  uncommon  powers 
in  conversation,  and  possessed  the  happy  art,  of  inspiring  all  around 
him  with  cheerfulness.  As  a  reasoner,  he  was  clear  and  solid  ; 
and  as  a  preacher,  animated,  judicious,  fervent  and  successful. 
He  had  warm  affections,  was  greatly  endeared  to  his  family  and 
friends,  and  was  open,  fair  and  honourable,  in  all  his  intercourse 
with  mankind.  During  the  period  of  his  Presidency,  he  secured 
the  high  esteem  and  confidence  of  all,  who  were  interested  in  the 
College. — In  the  latter  part  of  July,  or  the  beginning  of  August, 
being  in  a  low  state  of  health,  he  made  a  rapid  and  exhausting  vi- 


*  In  the  autumn  of  1756,  or   early    iu  1757,  the  College  was  removed  t« 
PrinPBto«. 


LIFE    OP    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  5(i5 

at  to  Stockbridge,  in  a  very  hot,  sultry  season.  He  soon  returned 
to  Priiiceton,  and  went  immediately  to  Elizabethtown  ;  where,  on 
the  19ih  of  August,  he  made  an  attempt,  before  the  Legislature, 
to  procure  the  legal  exemption  of  the  students  from  military  duty. 
On  the  ::ilst.  at  Newark,  being  much  indisposed,  he  preached  an 
extemporaneous  funeral  sermon,  in  consequence  of  a  death  in  the 
family  of  his  successor.  He  then  returned  to  Princeton,  and,  in  a 
few  days,  went  to  Philadelphia,  on  the  business  of  the  College. 
On  the  \Y3y,  ins  disorder  took  the  form  of  an  intermittent  fever. 
On  (iis  return,  he  learned  that  his  friend.  Governor  Belcher,  died 
at  Elizabethtown,  on  the  31st  of  August,  and  that  he  had  been  desig- 
nated, to  preach  the  funeral  sermon.  His  wife,  perceiving  his  in- 
creasing illness,  besought  him  to  spare  himself,  and  decline  the  un- 
dertaking ;  but  he  felt  hnnsell  bound,  if  possible,  to  perform  it. 
Having  devoted  the  afternoon  of  Sept.  2d,  to  the  task  of  preparing 
the  sermon,  in  the  midst  of  a  high  fever,  which  was  succeeded  by 
delirium  in  the  night,  he  rode  the  next  day  to  Elizabethtown,  about 
foity  miles,  and,  on  the  4th,  in  a  state  of  extreme  languor  and  ex- 
haustion, when  it  was  obvious  to  every  one,  that  he  ought  to  have 
been  confined  to  a  sick  bed,  he  with  great  difficulty  preached  the 
sermon.  He  returned  to  Princeton  the  following  day;  and  his 
disorder  immediately  assumed  the  character  of  a  fixed  and  violent 
fever,  seated  on  the  nerves.  At  the  approach  of  death,  that  gos- 
pel, which  he  had  preached  to  others,  gave  him  unfailing  support. 
He  was  patient  and  resigned,  and  cheered  with  the  liveliest  hope 
of  a  hap])y  immoitality. 

The  Corporation  of  the  College  met,  two  days  after  his  death, 
and  on  the  same  day  made  choice  of  Mr.  Edwards,  as  his  successor. 

Some  of  the  circumstances,  connected  with  the  sickness  and 
death  of  her  husband,  are  alluded  to  in  the  following  letter  from 
Mrs.  Burr,  to  a  gentleman  in  Scotland,  written  soon  after  Mr. 
Burr's  decease. 

*'  Honoured  Sir, 

"  I  flatter  myself  I  shall  not  be  thought  intrusive,  if  I  acknow- 
ledge, in  a  few  lines,  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  dated  in  August,  to 
my  late  dear  husband,  which  reached  me,  after  he  was  beyond  the 
reach  of  all  mortal  things.  The  affectionate  regard  that  you  ex- 
press for  one,  who  was  dearer  to  me  than  my  own  life,  was  extreme- 
ly affecfing  to  me;  nor  can  J  forgive  myself,  if  I  neglect  to  ac- 
knowledge it,  in  terms  of  lively  gratitude.  You,  Sir,  had  a  large 
share,  with  me,  in  that  dear  good  man's  heart,  which  he  often  ex- 
pressed, with  the  warmest  affection.  I  thought  it  might  not  be  im- 
proper, to  lay  your  letter  before  the  Trustees,  as  they  were  then 
convened,  and  it  chiefly  concerned  the  College  ;  and  then  I  sent  it 
to  my  honoured  father,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Edwards,  who  is  chosen  to 
succeed  my  dear  husband  ;  which,  I  hope,  will  be  grateful  to  the 


56(D  LtfE    GF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

friends  of  the  College,  in  Scotland.  I  here  inclose  you,  Sir,  the 
las't  attempt,  my  dear  husband  made,  to  serve  God  in  public,  and  to 
do  good  to  his  fellow-creatures — a  Sermon,  that  he  preached  at 
the  funeral  of  our  late  excellent  Governor.  You  will  not  think  it 
strange,  if  it  has  imperfecuons ;  when  I  tell  you,  that  all  he  wrote 
on  the  subject,  was  done  in  a  part  of  one  afternoon  and  evenmg, 
when  he  had  a  violent  fever  on  him,  and  the  whole  night  after,  he 
was  irrational. 

"  Give  me  leave  to  beg  an  interest  in  your  prayers,  at  the  throne 
of  Grace,  for  a  poor,  disconsolate  widow,  and  two  fatherless  or- 
phans.    Please  to  present,  witli  great  respect,  my  kindest  regard 
fo  your  lady  and  daughters. 
"I  am,  honoured  Sir, 

"  Your  most  obliged  and  humble  servant, 

"  Esther  Burr." 

The  two  following  extracts  from  letters,  written  soon  after  the 
death  of  Mr.  Burr,  will  show  the  strength  of  her  own  feelings,  as 
well  as  her  religious  sentiments,  and  the  exercises  of  her  lieart. 
The  first  is  from  a  letter  to  a  near  friend  of  the  family,  in  Boston. 

''  Your  most  kind  letter  of  condolence  gave  me  inexpressible  de- 
light, and,  at  the  same  time,  set  open  afresh  all  the  avenues  of 
grief,  and  again  probed  the  deep  wound  death  has  given  me.  My 
loss — Shall  I  attempt  to  say,  how  great  my  loss  is — God  only  can 
know — .\nd  to  him  alone,  would  1  carry  my  complaint. — Indeed, 
Sir,  I  have  lost  all  that  was,  or  could  be  desirable,  in  a  creature. 
. — I  have  lost  all,  that  ever  I  set  my  heart  on  in  this  world. — I  need 
laot  enlarge,  on  the  innumerable  amiable  qualities  of  my  late  dear 
husband,  to  one  that  was  so  well  acquainted  with  him,  as  you 
were  ;  however  pleasing  it  is  to  me,  to  dwell  on  them. — Had  not 
God  supported  me,  by  these  two  considerations ;  first,  by  showing 
the  right  he  has  to  his  own  creatures,  to  dispose  of  them  when,  and 
in  what  manner  he  pleases ;  and  secondly,  by  enabling  me  to  follow 
him  beyond  the  grave,  into  the  eternal  world,  and  there  to  view 
him,  in  unspeakable  glory  and  happiness,  freed  from  all  sin  and 
sorrow ;  I  should,  long  before  this,  have  been  sunk  among  the 
dead,  and  been  covered  with  tlie  clods  of  the  valley. — God  has 
wise  ends,  in  all  that  he  doth.  This  thing  did  not  come  upon  me 
by  chance ;  and  I  rejoice,  that  I  am  in  the  hands  of  such  a  God." 

The  other  is  from  a  letter  to  her  mother,  dated  at  Princeton, 
Oct.  7,  1757.  After  giving  some  account  of  Mr.  Burr's  death, 
and  representing  the  sense  she  had  of  the  greatness  of  the  loss, 
which  she  and  her  children  had  sustained ;  she  writes  in  the  fol- 
lowing words  : 

^'  No  doubt,  dear  niadam,  it  will  be  some  comfort  to  you  to  hegrv 


Life  of  president  edwards.  o67 

that  God  has  not  utterly  forsaken,  although  he  has  cast  down.  1 
would  speak  it  to  the  glory  of  God's  name,  that  1  think  he  has,  in 
an  uncommon  degree,  discovered  himself  to  be  an  all-suthcierjt 
God,  a  full  fountain  of  all  good.  Although  all  streams  were  cut  oil,  yet 
the  fountain  is  left  full. — 1  think  I  have  been  enabled  to  cast  my 
care  upon  him,  and  have  found  great  peace  and  calmness  in  my  mind, 
such  as  this  world  cannot  give  nor  take. — I  have  had  uncommon 
freedom,  and  nearness  to  the  throne  of  grace.  God  has  seemed 
sensibly  near,  in  such  a  supporting  and  comfortable  manner,  that  I 
think  I  have  never  experienced  the  like.  God  has  helped  me  to 
review  my  past  and  present  mercies,  with  some  heart-afiecting  de- 
gree of  thankfulness. 

"  I  think  God  has  given  me  such  a  sense  of  the  vanity  of  the 
world,  and  uncertainty  of  all  sublunary  enjoyments,  as  1  never  had 
before.  The  world  vanishes  out  of  my  sight !  Heavenly  and  eter- 
nal things  appear  much  more  real  and  important,  than  ever  before. 
I  feel  myself  to  be  under  much  greater  obligations  to  be  the  Lord''s. 
than  before  this  sore  affliction. — The  way  of  salvation,  by  faitli  in 
Jesus  Christ,  has  appeared  more  clear  and  excellent;  and  I  have 
been  constrained  to  venture  my  all  upon  him ;  and  have  found 
great  peace  of  soul,  in  what  1  hope  have  been  the  actings  of  faith. 
Some  parts  of  the  Psalms  have  been  very  comforting  and  refresh- 
ing to  my  soul. — I  hope  God  has  helped  me  to  eye  his  hand,  in  this 
awful  dispensation ;  and  to  see  the  infinite  right  he  has  to  his  ov\*n, 
and  to  dispose  of  them  as  he  pleases. 

"  Thus,  dear  madam,  I  have  given  you  some  broken  hints  of  the 
exercises  and  supports  of  my  mind,  since  the  death  of  him,  whose 
memory  and  example  will  ever  be  precious  to  me  as  my  own  life. 
O,  dear  madam  !  1  doubt  not  but  1  have  your,  and  my  honoured 
father's  prayers,  daily,  for  me  ;  but,  give  me  leave  to  entreat  you 
both,  to  request  earnestly  of  the  Lord,  that  I  may  never  despise 
his  chastenings,  nor  faint  under  this  his  severe  stroke ;  of  which  I  am 
sensible  there  is  great  danger,  if  God  should  only  deny  me  the 
supports,  that  he  has  hitherto  graciously  granted. 

"  O,  I  am  afraid  I  shall  conduct  myself  so,  as  to  bring  dishonour 
on  my  God,  and  the  religion  which  I  profess  !  No,  rather  let  me 
die  this  moment,  than  be  left  to  bring  dishonour  on  God's  holy 
name. — I  am  overcome — I  must  conclude,  with  once  more  beg- 
ging, that,  as  my  dear  parents  remember  themselves,  they  would 
not  forget  their  greatly  afflicted  daughter,  (now  a  lonely  widow,) 
nor  her  fatherless  children. — My  duty  to  my  ever  dear  and  hon- 
oured parents,  and  love  to  my  brothers  and  sisters. 
"  From,  dear  madam, 

*'  Your  dutiful  and  affectionate  daughter, 

"  Esther  Burr." 

'•The  news  of  his  appointment  to  the  Presidency,"  says  Dr. 


568  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Hopkins,  "  was  quite  unexpected,  and  not  a  little  surprising,  to  Mr- 
Edwards.  He  looked  on  himself,  in  many  respects,  so  unqualified 
for  that  business,  that  he  wondered,  that  gentlemen  of  so  good  judg- 
ment, and  so  well  acquainted  with  him,  as  he  knew  some  of  the 
Trustees  were,  should  think  of  him  for  that  place.  He  had  many 
objections,  in  his  own  mind,  against  undertaking  the  busniess,  both 
from  his  untitness,  and  his  particular  circumstances ;  yet  could  not 
certainly  determine,  that  it  was  not  his  duty  to  accept  it.  The  fol- 
lowing extract  of  a  letter,  which  he  wrote  to  the  Trustees,  will 
give  the  reader  a  view  of  his  sentiments  and  exercises,  on  this  oc- 
casion, as  well  as  of  the  great  designs  he  was  deeply  engaged  in, 
and  zealously  prosecuting." 

"  Stockbridge,  Oct,  19,  1757. 
*'  Rev.  and  Hon.  Gentlemen, 

"  I  was  not  a  little  surprised,  on  receiving  the  unexpected  notice, 
of  your  having  made  choice  of  me,  to  succeed  the  late  President 
Burr,  as  the  Head  of  Nassau  Hall. — I  am  much  in  doubt,  whether 
1  am  called  to  undertake  the  business,  which  you  have  done  me 
the  unmerited  honour  to  choose  me  for. — If  some  regard  may  be 
had  to  my  outward  comfort,  I  might  mention  the  many  inconven- 
iences, and  great  detriment,  which  may  be  sustained,  by  my  re- 
moving, with  my  numerous  family,  so  far  from  all  the  estate  I  have 
in  the  world,  (without  any  prospect  of  disposing  of  it,  under  pre- 
sent circumstances,  but  with  great  loss,)  now^  when  we  have  scarcely 
got  over  the  trouble  and  damage,  sustained  by  our  removal  from 
Northampton,  and  have  but  just  begun  to  have  our  affairs  in  a  com- 
fortable situation,  for  a  subsistence  in  this  place ;  and  the  expense 
I  must  immediately  be  at,  to  put  myself  into  circumstances,  tolera- 
bly comporting  with  the  needful  support  of  the  honours  of  the  of- 
fice I  am  invited  to  ;  which  will  not  well  consist  with  my  ability. 

"  But  this  is  not  my  main  objection.  The  chief  difficulties  in  my 
mind,  in  the  way  of  accepting  this  important  and  arduous  office,  are 
these  two :  First,  my  own  defects,  unfitting  me  for  such  an  under- 
taking, many  of  which  are  generally  known  ;  beside  others,  of  which 
my  own  heart  is  conscious. — I  have  a  constitution,  in  many  re- 
spects peculiarly  unhappy,  attended  with  flaccid  solids,  vapid,  sizy 
and  scarce  fluids,  and  a  low^  tide  of  spirits ;  often  occasioning  a  kind 
of  childish  w^eakness  and  contemptibleness  of  speech,  presence,  and 
demeanor,  with  a  disagreeable  dulness  and  stiffness,  much  unfit- 
ting me  for  conversation,  but  more  especially  for  the  government  of 
a  college. — This  makes  me  shrink  at  the  thoughts  of  taking  upon 
me,  in  the  decline  of  life,  such  a  new^  and  great  business,  attended 
with  such  a  multiplicity  of  cares,  and  requiring  such  a  degree  of  ac- 
tivity, alertness,  and  spirit  of  government ;  especially  as  succeeding 
one  so  remarkably  well  qualified  in  these  respects,  giving  occasion  to 
every  one  to  remark  the  wide  difference.     I   am  also    deficient  m 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  569 

some  parts  of  learning,  particularly  in  Algebra,  and  the  higher  parts  of 
Mathematics,  and  in  the  Greek  Classics ;  my  Greek  learning  having 
been  chiefly  in  the  New  Testament. — The  other  thing  is  this  ;  that  my 
engaging  in  this  business  will  not  well  consist  with  those  views,  and 
that  course  of  employ  in  my  study,  which  have  long  engaged  and 
swallowed  up  my  mind,  and  been  the  chief  entertainment  and  de- 
light of  my  life. 

"  And  here,  honoured  Sirs,  (emboldened,  by  the  testimony  I  have 
now  received  of  your  unmerited  esteem,  to  rely  on  your  candour,) 
I  will  with  freedom  open  myself  to  you. 

"  My  method  of  study,  from  my  first  beginning  the  work  of  the 
ministry,  has  been  very  much  by  writing ;  applying  myself,  in  this 
way,  to  improve  every  important  hint ;  pursuing  the  clue  to  my  ut- 
most, when  any  thing  in  reading,  meditation,  or  conv^ersation,  has 
been  suggested  to  my  mind,  that  seemed  to  promise  light,  in  any 
weighty  point ;  thus  penning  what  appeared  to  me  my  best  thoughts, 
on  innumerable  subjects,  for  my  own  benefit. — The  longer  I  prose- 
cuted my  studies,  in  this  method,  the  more  habitual  it  became,  and 
the  more  pleasant  and  profitable  I  found  it. — The  farther  I  travelled 
in  this  way,  the  more  and  wider  the  field  opened,  which  has  occa- 
sioned my  laying  out  many  tilings  in  my  mind,  to  do  in  this  manner, 
if  God  should  spare  my  life,  which  my  heart  hath  been  much  upon  ; 
particularly  many  things  against  most  of  the  prevailing  errors  of  the 
present  day,  which  I  cannot  with  any  patience  see  maintained,  (to 
the  utter  subverting  of  the  gospel  of  Christ,)  with  so  high  a  hand, 
and  so  long  continued  a  triumph,  with  so  little  control,  when  it  ap- 
pears so  evident  to  me,  that  there  is  truly  no  foundation  for  any  of 
this  glorying  and  insult.     I   have  already  published  something  on 
one  of  the  main  points  in  dispute  between  the  Arminians  and  Cal- 
vinists  :  and  have  it  in  view,  God  willing,  (as  I  have  already  signi- 
fied to  the  public,)  in  like  manner  to  consider  all  the  other  contro- 
verted points,  and  have  done  much  towards  a  preparation  for  it. — 
But  beside  these,  I  have  had  on  my  mind  and  heart,  (which  1  long 
ago  began,  not  with  any  view  to  publication,)  a  great  work,  which  I 
call  a  History  of  the  Work  of  Redemption,  a  body  of  divinity  in  an 
entire  new  method,  being  thrown  into  the  form  of  a  history;  consir 
dering  the  affair  of  Christian  Theology,  as  the  whole  of  it,  in  each 
part,  stands  in  reference  to  the  great  work  of  redemption  by  Jesus 
Christ ;  which  I  suppose  to  be,  of  all  others,  the  grand  design  of 
God,  and  the  summum  and  ultimum  of  all  the  divine  operations  and 
decrees  ;  particularly  considering  all  parts  of  the  grand  scheme,  in 
their  historical  order. — The  order  of  their  existence,  or  their  being 
brought  forth  to  view,  in  the  course  of  divine  dispensations,  or  the 
wonderful  series  of  successive   acts    and   events ;  beginning  from 
eternity,  and  descending  from  thence  to  the  great  work  and  succes- 
srv^e  dispensations  of  the  infinitely  wise  God,  in  time,  considering  the 
chief  events  coming  to  pass  in  the  church  of  God.  and  lovoluiioiTs 
Vol,   \,  72 


570  LLFE    ©F    PRESEDENT    EBWARDS. 

in  the  world  of  mankind,  affecting  the  state  of  the  church  and  the 
afi^ir  of  redemption,  which  we  have. an  account  of  in  history  or 
prophecy  ;  till  at  last,  we  come  to  the  general  resurrection,  last  judg- 
ment, and  consummation  of  all  things;  when  it  shall  be  said.  It  is 
done.  I  am  Alpha  and  Omega,  the  Beginning  and  the  End. — 
Concluding  my  work,  with  the  consideration  of  that  perfect  state  of 
things,  which  shall  be  finally  settled,  to  last  for  eternity. — This  his- 
tory will  be  carried  on  with  regard  to  all  three  worlds,  heaven,  earth 
and  hell ;  considering  the  connected,  successive  events  and  altera- 
tions in  each,  so  far  as  the  scriptures  give  any  light ;  introducing  all 
parts  of  divinity  in  that  order  which  is  most  scriptural  and  most 
natural ;  a  method  which  appears  to  me  the  most  beautiful  and  en- 
tertaining, wherein  every  divine  doctrine  will  appear  to  the  greatest 
advantage,  in  the  brightest  light,  in  the  most  striking  manner,  shew- 
ing the  admirable  contexture  and  harmony  of  the  whole. 

''  I  have  also,  for  my  own  profit  and  entertainment,  done  much 
towards  another  great  work,  which  I  call  the  Harmony  of  the  Old 
and  Keiu  Testament,  in  three  parts.  The  first,  considering  the 
Prophecies  of  the  Messiah,  his  redemption  and  kingdom  ;  the  evi- 
dences of  their  references  to  the  jNJessiah,  etc.  comparing  them  all 
one  with  another,  demonstrating  their  agreement,  true  scope,  and 
sense ;  also  considering  all  the  various  particulars  wherein  those 
prophecies  have  their  exact  fulalraent;  showing  the  universal,  pre- 
cise, and  admirable  correspondence  between  predictions  and  events. 
The  second  part,  considering  the  Types  of  the  Old  Testament, 
shewing  the  evidence  of  their  being  intended  as  representations  of 
the  great  things  of  the  gospel  of  Christ ;  and  the  agreement  of  the 
type  with  the  antitype.  The  third  and  great  part,  considering  the 
Harmony  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament,  as  to  doctrine  and  pre- 
cept. In  the  course  of  this  work,  I  find  there  will  be  occasion  for 
an  explanation  of  a  very  great  part  of  the  holy  Scriptures  ;  which 
may,  in  such  a  view,  be  explained  in  a  method,  which  to  me  seems 
the  most  entertaining  and  profitable,  best  tending  to  lead  the  mind 
to  a  view  of  the  true  spirit,  design,  life  and  soul  of  the  scriptures,  as 
well  as  their  proper  use  and  improvement. — I  have  also  many  other 
things  in  hand,  in  some  of  which  I  have  made  great  progress,  which 
I  \vill  not  trouble  you  with  an  account  of.  Some  of  these  things,  if 
divine  providence  favour,  I  should  l>e  willing  to  attempt  a  publication 
of.  So  far  as  I  myself  am  able  to  judge  of  what  talents  I  have, 
for  benefitting  my  fello\y  creatures  by  word,  I  think  I  can  write  bet- 
ter than  I  can  speak. 

"  My  heart  is  so  much  in  these  studies,  that  I  cannot  find  it  in  my 
heart  to  be  willing  to  put  myself  into  an  incapacity  to  pursue  them  any 
more  in  the  futm-e  part  of  my  liie,  to  such  a  degree  as  I  must,  if  I  un- 
dertake to  go  through  the  same  course  of  employ,  in  the  office  of  pre- 
sident, that  ivlr.  Burr  did,  instructing  in  all  the  languages,  and  taking 
the  whole  care  of  the  instruction  of  one  of  tlie  classes,  in  all  parts  of 


LiFB    OF    PRESIDENT    El>WAIlDg.  571 

learning,  besides  his  other  labours.  If  I  should  see  light  to  deter- 
mine me  to  accept  the  place  offered  me,  I  should  be  willing  to  take 
upon  me  the  work  of  a  president,  so  far  as  it  consists  in  the  general 
inspection  of  the  whole  society  ;  and  to  be  subservient  to  the  school, 
as  to  their  order  and  methods  of  study  and  instruction,  assisting,  my- 
self, in  the  immediate  instruction  in  the  arts  and  sciences,  (as  discre- 
tion should  direct,  and  occasion  serve,  and  the  state  of  things  require,) 
especially  of  the  senior  class ;  and  added  to  all,  should  be  willing  to 
do  the  whole  work  of  a  professor  of  divinity,  in  public  and  private 
lectures,  proposing  questions  to  be  answered,  and  some  to  be  dis- 
cussed in  writing  and  free  conversation,  in  meetings  of  graduates^ 
and  others,  appointed  in  proper  seasons,  for  these  ends.  It  would 
be  now  out  of  my  way,  to  spend  time,  in  a  constant  teaching  of  the 
languages  ;  unless  it  be  the  Hebrew^  tongue ;  which  1  should  be- 
willingto  improve  myself  in,  by  instructing  others. 

"  On  the  w^iole,  I  am  much  at  a  loss,  with  respect  to  the  w^ay  of 
duty,  in  this  important  affair :  I  am  in  doubt,  whether,  if  I  should 
engage  in  it,  I  should  not  do  what  both  you  and  I  would  be  sorry 
for  afterwards.  Nevertheless,  I  think  the  greatness  of  the  affair, 
and  the  regard  due  to  so  w^orthy  and  venerable  a  body,  as  that  of 
the  trustees  of  Nassau  Hall,  requires  my  taking  the  matter  into  se- 
rious consideration.  And  unless  you  should  appear  to  be  discoura- 
ged, by  the  things  which  I  have  now  represented,  as  to  any  farther 
expectation  from  me,  I  shall  proceed  to  ask  advice,  of  such  as  I 
esteem  most  wise,  friendly  and  faithful :  if,  after  the  mind  of  the 
Commissioners  in  Boston  is  known,  it  appears  that  they  consent  to 
leave  me  at  liberty,  with  respect  to  the  business  they  have  emjiloy- 
ed  me  inhere." 

Soon  after  the  death  of  President  Burr,  Mr.  Edwards  addressed 
a  letter  to  his  greatly  afflicted  daughter,  fraught  with  all  the  affec- 
tionate instruction  and  consolation  which  such  a  father  could  im-? 
part.*     To  this  she  returned  the  following  answer : 

"  To  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards,  Stockbridge. 

'^Princeton,  A'^ov.  2,  1757. 

"To  my  ever  honoured  father, 

*' Honoured  Sir, 

"Your  most  affectionate,  comforting  letter,  by  my  brother  Par- 
sons,  was  exceedingly  refreshing  to  me ;  although  I  was  somewhat 
damped  by  hearing,  that  I  should  not  see  you  until  spring. f     But 


*  Unfortunately  this  letter  is  lost. 

tWhen  Mr.  Edwards  wrote  tlic  letter  to  which  she  refers,  he  did  not  thi^k 
©f  going  to  Princeton  till  spring-;  blithe  afterwards  determinfid  ftthRrwi«-p, 


&7*i  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    KDWARBS. 

it  is  my  comlbrt  in  this  disappointment,  as  well  as  under  all  my  af- 
fliction, that  God  knows  what  is  best,formej  and  for  his  o\mi  glor;/, 
perhaps  I  counted  too  much  on  the  company,  and  conversation,  of 
such  a  near  and  dear  affectionate  father  and  guide.  I  cannot  doubt 
but  all  is  for  the  best ;  and  I  am  satisfied  that  God  should  order 
the  affair  of  your  removal,  as  shall  be  for  his  glory,  whatever  be- 
comes of  me. 

"  Since  I  wrote  my  mother  a  letter,  God  has  carried  me  through 
new  trials,  and  given  me  new  supports.  My  little  son  has  been 
sick  with  a  slow  fever,  ever  since  my  brother  left  us,  and  has 
been  brought  to  the  brink  of  the  grave  ;  but,  I  hope  in  mercy,  God 
is  bringing  him  back  again.  I  was  enabled,  after  a  severe  struggle 
with  nature,  to  resign  the  child  with  the  greatest  freedom.  God 
showed  me-  that  the  children  were  not  my  own,  but  his,  and  that 
he  had  a  right  to  recall  w^hat  he  had  lent,  whenever  he  tliought  fit ; 
and  that  I  had  no  reason  to  complain,  or  say  that  God  was  hard 
wdth  me.  This  silenced  me.  But  O  how  good  is  God.  He  not 
only  kept  me  from  complaining,  but  comforted  me,  by  enabling  me 
to  offer  up  my  child  by  faith,  if  ever  I  acted  faith.  I  saw  the  ful- 
ness there  was  in  Christ  for  litde  infants,  and  his  willingness  to  ac- 
cept of  such  as  were  offered  to  him.  "  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me,  and  forbid  them  not ;"  were  comforting  words. 
God  also  showed  me,  in  such  a  lively  manner,  tlie  fulness  there 
was  in  himself  of  all  spiritual  blessings,  that  I  said,  "  Although  all 
streams  were  cut  off,  yet  so  long  as  my  God  lives,  I  have  enough.'* 
He  enabled  me  to  say,  "  Although  thou  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in 
thee."  In  this  time  of  trial,  I  was  led  to  enter  into  a  renewed  and 
explicit  covenant  with  God,  in  a  more  solemn  manner  than  ever  be- 
fore ;  and  with  the  greatest  freedom  and  delight,  after  much  self- 
examination  and  prayer,  I  did  give  myself  and  my  children  to  God, 
with  my  whole  heart.  Never,  until  then,  had  I  an  adequate  sense 
of  the  privilege  we  are  allowed  in  covenanting  with  God.  This 
act  of  soul  left  my  mind  in  a  great  calm,  and  steady  trust  in  God. 
A  few  days  after  this,  one  evening,  in  talking  of  the  glorious  state 
my  dear  departed  husband  must  be  in,  my  soul  was  carried  out  in 
such  large  desires  after  that  glorious  state,  that  I  was  forced  to  re- 
tire from  the  family  to  conceal  my  joy.  When  alone  I  was  so 
transported,  and  my  soul  carried  out  in  such  eager  desires  after 
perfection  and  the  full  enjoyment  of  God,  and  to  serve  him  unin- 
terruptedly, that  I  think  my  nature  would  not  have  borne  much 
more.  I  think,  dear  Sir,  I  had  that  night,  a  foretaste  of  heaven. 
This  frame  continued,  in  some  good  degree,  the  whole  night,  I 
slept  but  litde,  and  when  I  did,  my  dreams  were  all  of  heavenly 
and  divine  things.  Frequently  since,  I  have  felt  the  same  in  kind, 
though  not  in  degree.  This  was  about  the  time  that  God  called 
me  to  give  up  my  child.  Thus  a  kind  and  gracious  God  has  been 
wiih  me,  in  six  troubles  and  in  seven. 


LIFS    ©F    PRESIDEN/i"  EBWARi>.a.  .j7 j 

^■^  But,  O,  Sir,  what  cause  of  deep  humiliation  and  abasement  of 
^ul,  have  I,  on  account  of  remaining  corruption,  which  I  see 
working  continually  in  me,  especially  pride.  O,  how  many  shapes 
does  pride  cloak  itself  in.  Satan  is  also  busy,  shooting  his  darts^ 
But,  blessed  be  God,  those  temptations  of  his,  that  used  to  over- 
throw me,  as  yet,  have  not  touched  me.  I  will  just  hint  at  one  or  two^ 
if  I  am  not  tedious  as  to  length. — When  I  was  about  to  renew  my 
covenant  with  God,  the  suggestion  seemed  to  arise  in  my  mind, 
"It  is  better  you  should  not  renew  it,  than  break  it  when  you  have  : 
what  a  dreadful  thing  it  will  be,  if  you  do  not  keep  it."  My  reply 
was,  "I  did  not  do  it  in  my  own  strength."  Then  the  suggestion 
would  return,  "  How  do  you  know  that  God  will  help  you  keep 
it."  But  it  did  not  shake  me  in  the  least. — Oh,  to  be  delivered 
from  the  power  of  Satan,  as  well  as  sin  !  I  cannot  help  hoping  the 
time  is  near.  God  is  certainly  fitting  me  for  himself;  and  when  I 
think  that  it  will  be  soon,  that  I  shall  be  called  hence,  the  thought  is 
transporting. 

''  I  am  afraid  I  have  tired  out  your  patience,  and  will  beg  leave 
only  to  add  my  need  of  the  earnest  prayers  of  my  dear  and  ho- 
noured parents,  and  all  good  people,  tliat  I  may  not  at  last  be  a 
cast-a-way ;  but  that  God  would  constantly  grant  me  new  supplies 
of  divine  grace.  I  am  tenderly  concerned  for  my  dear  brother 
Timothy,  but  I  hope  his  sickness  \\ill  not  be  unto  death,  but  for  the 
glory  of  God. — Please  to  give  my  duty  to  my  honoured  mother, 
and  my  love  to  all  my  brothers  and  sisters. 
"  I  am,  honoured  and  dear  Sir, 
"  With  the  greatest  respect, 

"  Your  affectionate  and  dutiful  daughter, 

"  Esther  Burr." 

While  Mr.  Edwards  was  in  the  state  of  suspense,  alluded  to  m 
his  letter  to  the  Trustees  of  the  College,  he  determined  to  ask  the 
advice  of  a  number  of  gentlemen  in  the  ministry,  on  whose  judg- 
ment and  friendship  he  could  rely,  and  to  act  accordingly.  One 
of  those  invited,  on  tlys  occasion,  was  his  old  and  faithful  friend,  and 
former  pupil,  Mr.  Bellamy,  of  Bethlem ;  to  whom,  having  receiv- 
ed from  him,  on  the  last  day  of  November,  two  letters,  dated  on 
the  12th  and  17th  of  that  month,  he  returned,  on  the  next  day,  the 
following  answer  ;  which,  while  it  refers  to  the  subject  of  the  Coun- 
cil, shows  also,  in  a  very  striking  manner,  with  what  ease  and  rea- 
diness, he  could  throw  a  clear  and  certain  light,  on  any  dark  and 
difficult  passage  of  the  word  of  God. 

'' Stockbridge,  Dec.  1,  1757. 
*'  Rev.  and  dear  Sir, 

"  Yesterday,  I  received  your  two  letters,  of  the  12th  and  1 7th  of 
Nov. ;  but  I  saw  and  heard  nothing  of  Mr.  Hill.     I  thank  you  for 


574  LIFE    OF    1>RESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

3' our  concern,  that  I  may -be  useful  in  the  world. — I  lately  wrote 
you  a  letter,  informing  you  of  our  choice  of  a  Council,  to  sit  here 
on  the  21st  of  this  month;  and  inclosed  in  it  a  letter  missive  to 
Mr.  Brinsmade,  who  is  one  of  the  Council.  I  hope,  before  this 
time,  you  have  received  it.  Don't  fail  of  letting  me  see  you  here  ; 
for  I  never  wanted  to  see  you  more. 

"  As  to  the  question  you  ask,  about  Christ's  argument,  in  John 
X.  34 — 36,  I  observ^e, 

^^  First.  That  it  is  not  all  princes  of  the  earth,  who  are  called 
gods,  in  the  Old  Testament ;  but  only  the  princes  of  Israel,  who 
ruled  over  God's  people.  The  princes,  who  are  called  gods,  in 
Psalm  82,  here  referred  to,  are,  in  the  same  sentence,  distinguish- 
ed from  the  princes  of  the  nations  of  the  ivorld — "  I  have  said.  Ye 
are  gods ;  but  ye  shall  die  like  men,  and  fall  like  one  of  the 
princes.''^ 

"  Secondly.  That  the  reason,  why  these  princes  of  Israel  were 
called  gods,  was,  that  they,  as  the  rulers  and  judges  of  God's  Is- 
Ifael,  were  types  and  figures  of  Him,  who  is  the  True  King  of  the 
Jews,  and  the  Prince  of  God's  people,  who  is  to  rule  over  the 
house  of  Jacob  forever,  the  Prince  and  Saviour  of  God's  church, 
or  spiritual  Israel,  gathered  from  all  nations  of  the  earth ;  who  is 
God  indeed.     The  throne  of  Israel,  or  of  God's  people,  properly 
belonged  to  Christ.     He  only  was  the  proper  Heir  to  that  throne  j 
and  therefore,  the  princes  of  Israel  are  said  to  sit  upon  the  throne 
of  the  Lord,  1  Chron.  xxix.  23 ;  and  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  un- 
der the  kings  of  the  house  of  David,  is  called  the  kingdom  of  the 
Lord.  2  Chron.  xiii.  8.     And  because  Christ  took  the  throne,  as 
the  Antitype  of  those  kings,  therefore  he  is  said,  Luke  i.  32,  to  sit 
upon  their  throne. — Thus,  the  princes  of  Israel,  in  the  82d  Psalm, 
are  called  gods,   and  sons  of  God,  or  "  all  of  them  children  of  the 
Most  High;''^  being  ap|X)inted  types  and  remarkable  representa- 
tions of  the  true  Son  of  God,  and  in  him,  of  the  true  God.     They 
were  called  gods,  and  sons  of  God,  in  the  same  manner  as  the  Le- 
vitical  Sacrifices  were  called  an  Atonement  for  sin,  and  in  the  same 
manner  as  the  Manna  was  called   the  Bread  of  Heaven,  and  An- 
gels^ Food.     These  things  represented,  and,  by  special  divine  de- 
signation, were  figures,  of  the  true  Atonement,  and  of  Him  who 
was  the  true  Bread  of  Heaven,  and  the  true  Angels'  Food  ;  in  the 
same  sense  as  Saul,  the  person  especially  pointed  out  in  the  83d 
Psalm,  is  called  "  the  t.ord^s  anointed,^''  or  (as  it  is  in  the  origi- 
nal) Messiah,  or  Christ,  which  are  the  same.     And  it  is  to  be  ob- 
served, that  these  typical  gods,  and  judges  of  Israel,  are  particu- 
larly distinguished  from  the  true  God,  and  true  Judge,  in  the  next 
sentence,  Ps.  Ixxxii.  8,  "  Arise,  O  God,  thou  Judge  of  the  earth ; 
for  thou  shalt  inherit  all  nations." — This  is  a  wish  for  the  coming 
of  that  King,  that  should  reign   in  righteousness,   and  judge  right- 
eously ;  who  was  to  iiiherit  the  Gentiles,  as  well  a-s  the  Jews ;  and 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  $76 

the  words,  as  they  stand  in  connexion  with  the  two  preceding 
verses,  import  thus  much — "  As  to  you,  the  temporal  princes  and 
judges  of  Israel,  you  are  called  gods,  and  sons  ol"  God,  being 
exalted  to  the  place  of  kings,  judges,  and  saviours  of  God's  peo- 
ple, the  Kingdom  and  Heritage  of  Christ;  but  you  shall  die  like 
men,  and  fall  like  other  princes ;  whereby  it  appears  that  you  are 
truly  no  gods,  nor  any  one  of  you  the  true  Son  of  God,  which 
your  injustice  and  oppression  also  shows.  But  Oh,  that  He,  who 
is  truly  God,  the  Judge  of  the  earth,  the  true  and  just  Judge  and 
Saviour,  who  is  to  be  King  over  Gentiles  as  well  as  Jews,  would 
come  and  reign  !" — It  is  to  be  observed,  that  when  it  is  said  in  this 
v^erse — "  Aiise,  O  Go<^" — the  word  rendered  God,  is  Elohim — the 
same  used  in  verse  6,  "  I  have  said,  Ye  are  gods,^^ — I  have  said, 
Ye  are  elohim. 

"  Thirdly,  As  to  the  v/ords  of  Christ,  in  John  x.  35,  ''  If  he 
called  them  gods,  unto  whom  the  word  of  God  came,"  I  sup- 
pose that,  by  the  word  of  God  coming  to  these  princes  of  Israel,  is 
meant,  their  being  set  forth  by  special  and  express  divine  designa- 
tion, to  be  types,  or  figurative  significations  of  God's  Mind. 
Those  things,  which  God  had  appointed  to  be  types,  to  signify  the 
mind  of  God,  were  a  Visible  Word,  Types  are  called  the  ivord 
of  the  Lord — as  in  Zech.  xi.  10,  11,  and  in  Zech.  iv.  4^6. — The 
word  of  God  came  to  the  princes  of  Israel,  both  as  they,  by  God's 
ordering,  became  subjects  of  a  typical  representation  of  a  divine 
thing,  which  was  a  visible  word  of  God  ;  and  also,  as  this  was  done 
by  express  divine  designation,  as  they  were  marked  out  to  this  end, 
by  an  express,  audible  and  legible  word,  as  in  Ex.  xxii.  28,  and 
Ps.  Ixxxii.  1  ;  and  besides,  the  thing,  of  which  they  were  appoint- 
ed types,  was  Christ,  who  is  called  "  the  Word  of  God.^^ — Thus, 
the  word  of  God  came  to  Jacob,  as  a  type  of  Christ,  1  Kings  xviii. 
31,  "And  Elijal'  took  twelve  stones,  according  to  the  number  of 
the  tribes  of  Jacob,  unto  whom  the  word  of  the  Lord  ca3ie, 
saying,  Israel  shall  be  thy  name." — The  word  Israel  is  Prince  of 
God  : — Jacob  being,  by  that  express  divine  designation,  appointed 
as  a  type  of  Christ,  the  true  Prince  of  God,  (who  is  called,  in  Isa. 
xlix.  3,  by  the  name  of  Israel,)  in  his  prevailing  in  his  wrestling 
with  God,  to  save  himself  and  his  family  from  destruction  by  Esau, 
who  was  then  coming  against  him,  and  obtaining  the  blessing  for 
himself  and  his  seed. — Now, 

"  Fourthly.  Christ's  argument  lies  in  these  words,  The  Scri])- 
iure  cannot  he  broken.  That  word  of  God,  by  which  they  are  call- 
ed gods,  as  types  of  Him  who  is  truly  God,  must  be  verified,  which 
they  cannot  be,  unless  the  Antitype  be  truly  God. — They  are  so 
called,  as  types  of  the  Messiah,  or  of  the  Anointed  One,  (which  is 
the  same,)  or  the  Sanctified  or  Holy  One,  or  Him  that  v/as  to  be 
sent ;  which  w^ere  all  known  names,  among  the  Jews,  for  the  Messiah. 
fSecDan.ix.  24,  25;  Ps.  Ixxxix.  19,  20;  Ps.  xvi.  10,  Johnix. 


576  lilFE    Ol?    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

7.)  But  it  was  on  this  account,  that  those  types  or  images  of  the 
JVlessiah  were  called  gods,  because  He,  whom  they  represented, 
was  God  indeed.  If  he  were  not  God,  the  word  by  which  they 
were  called  gods  could  not  be  verified,  and  must  be  broken.  As 
the  word,  by  which  the  Legal  Sacrifices  were  called  an  Atone- 
ment, and  are  said  to  atone  for  sin,  was  true  in  no  other  sense,  than 
ss  they  had  relation  to  the  Sacrifice  of  Christ  the  tFue  Atonement. 
If  Christ's  Sacrifice  had  not  truly  atoned  for  sin;  the  word,  which 
called  the  types  or  representations  of  it  an  atonement,  could  not 
be  verified.  So,  if  Jesus  Christ  had  not  been  the  true  Bread  from 
Heaven,  and  Angels'  Food  indeed  ;  the  Scripture  which  called  the 
type  of  him,  the  Bread  from  Heaven,  and  Angels'  Food,  would 
not  have  been  verified,  but  would  have  been  broken. 
*'  These,  Sir,  are  my  thoughts  on  John  x.  34,  etc. 
"I  am  yours,  most  affectionately, 

"  J.  Edwards. 

"P.  >S.  Dec.  5. — The  opportunity  for  the  conveyance  of  my 
letters,  to  the  ministers  chosen  to  be  of  the  Council,  your  way, 
not  being  very  good ;  I  here  send  other  letters,  desiring  you  to 
lake  the  charge  of  conveying  them,  with  all  possible  care  and 
speed." 

The  gentlemen  invited  to  the  Council,  at  his  desire,  and  that  of 
his  people,  met  at  Stockbridge,  January  4,  1758;*  and,  having 
heard  the  application  of  the  agents  of  the  College,  and  their  reasons 
in  support  of  it  ;f  Mr.  Edwards'  own  representation  of  the  matter; 
and  what  his  people  had  to  say,  by  way  of  objection,  against  his  re- 
moval ;  determined  that  it  was  his  duty,  to  accept  of  the  invitation 
to  the  Presidency  of  the  College.  When  they  published  their 
judgment  and  advice  to  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  people,  he  appeared 
uncommonly  moved  and  affected  with  it,  and  fell  into  tears  on  the 
occasion,  which  was  very  unusual  for  him,  in  the  presence  of  oth- 
ers ;  and  soon  after,  he  said  to  the  gentlemen  who  had  given  their 
advice,  that  it  was  matter  of  wonder  to  him,  that  they  could  so 
easily,  as  they  appeared  to  do,  get  over  the  objections  he  had  made 
against  his  removal. J  But,  as  he  thought  it  his  duty  to  be  direct- 
ed by  their  advice,  he  should  now  endeavour  cheerfully  to  under- 
take it,  believing  he  was  in  the  way  of  his  duty. 


*I  have  ascertained  the  names  of  only  three  of  the  members  of  the 
Council — Mr.  Bellamy,  Mr.  Brinsmade,  and  Mr.  Hopliins.  This  date  is 
rig-ht,  though  it  differs  from  that  mentioned  in  the  letter  to  Mr  Bellamy. 

f  The  agents  of  the  College  were,  Rev.  Messrs.  Caleb  Smith  and  John 
Brainerd. 

\  The  Council,  at  the  request  both  of  the  English  and  Indian  congrega- 
tions at  Stockbridge,  addressed  a  letter  to  the  Commissioners  in  Boston, 
requesting  that  tiie  Rev.  John  Brainerd  might  be  appointed  Mr.  Edwards' 
i«uccessor: — the  Hoiisatonnucks  uftering  land  for  a  settlement  to   tjie  In- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 


"Accordingly,  having  had,  by  the  application  of  the  Trustees  of 
the  College,  the  consent  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  "  Society  in 
London,  for  propagating  the  Gospel,  in  New  England,  and  the 
parts  adjacent,"  to  resign  their  mission ;  he  girded  up  his  loins, 
and  set  off  from  Stockbridge  for  Princeton,  in  January.  He  left 
his  family  at  Stockbridge,  not  to  be  removed  till  the  spring.  He 
had  two  daughters  at  Princeton  ;  ]\Irs.  Burr,  and  Lucy,  his  eldest 
daughter,  that  was  unmarried.  His  arrival  at  Princeton  was  to  the 
great  satisfaction  and  joy  of  the  college.  And  indeed  all  the  great- 
est friends  to  the  college,  and  to  theinterestsof  religion,  were  high- 
ly satisfied  and  pleased  with  the  appointment." 

It  w^as  a  singular  fact,  that,  soon  after  his  arrival  at  Princeton,  he 
heard  the  melancholy  tidings  of  the  death  of  his  father.  It  oc- 
curred on  the  27th  of  January,  1758,  in  the  89th  year  of  his  age. 

"  The  corporation  met  as  soon  as  could  be  with  convenience, 
after  his  arrival  at  the  college,  when  he  was,  by  them,  fixed  in  the 
president's  chair.  While  at  Princeton,  before  his  sickness,  he 
preached  in  the  college-hall,  sabbath  after  sabbath,  to  the  great  ac- 
ceptance of  the  hearers  ;^  but  did  nothing  as  president,  unless  it 
was  to  give  out  some  questions  in  divinity  to  the  senior  class,  to  be 
answered  before  him  ;  each  one  ha\'ing  opportunity  to  study  and 
write  what  he  tliought  proper,  upon  them.  When  they  came 
together  to  answer  them,  they  found  so  much  entertainment  and 
profit  by  it,  especially  by  the  light  and  instruction,  JNIr.  Edwards 
communicated,  in  what  he  said  upon  the  questions,  when  they  had 
delivered  what  they  had  to  say,  that  they  spoke  of  it  with  tlie  great- 
est satisfaction  and  wonder. 

"  During  this  time,  Mr.  Edwards  seemed  to  enjoy  an  uncom- 
mon degree  of  the  presence  of  God.  He  told  his  daughters  he 
once  had  great  exercise,  concern  and  fear,  relative  to  his  engaging 
in  that  business  ;  but  since  it  now^  appeared,  so  far  as  he  could  see, 
that  he  w^as  called  ol  God,  to  that  place  and  work,  he  did  cheer- 
fully devote  himself  to  it.,  leaving  himself  and  the  event  with  God, 
to  order  what  seemed  to  him  good. 

"  The  small  pox  had  now  become  very  common  in  the  country, 
and  was  then  at  Princeton,  and  likely  to  spread.  And  as  Mr.  Ed- 
wards had  never  had  it,  and  inoculation  was  then  practised  with 
great  success  in  those  parts,  he  proposed  to  be  inoculated,  if  the 


dian  congregation  at  Cranberry,  New  Jersey,  if  they  would  remove  to 
Stockbridgel—and  another  letter  to  the  Trustees  of  the  College,  request- 
inn-  that  they  would  use  their  collective  and  iadividuoa  influence,  to  procure 
the  appointment  of  Mr.  Brainerd,  and  his  removal  to  Stockbridge. 

*  The  first  sermon,  v/hich  he  preached  at  Princeton,  was  on  the  Un- 
changeableness  of  Christ,  in  Vol.  VIII.  It  was  upwards  of  two  hours  in 
the  d^elivery  ;  but  is  said  to  have  been  listened  to  \v\lh  such  profound  at- 
tention, and  deep  interest,  by  the  audience,  that  they  were  unconscious  of 
thf^  lapse  of  time,  and  surprised  that  it  closed  so  Doon. 
Vol.  L         '  73 


578  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

physician  should  advise  to  it,  and  the  corporation  would  give  their 
consent.  Accordingly,  by  the  advice  of  the  physician,  and  the 
consent  of  the  corporation,  he  was  inoculated  February  13th.  He 
had  it  favourably,  and  it  was  thought  all  danger  was  over ;  but  a 
secondary  fever  set  in,  and,  by  reason  of  a  number  of  pustules  in 
his  throat,  the  obstruction  was  such,  that  the  medicines  necessary 
to  check  the  fever,  could  not  be  administered.  It  therefore  raged 
till  it  put  an  end  to  his  life,  on  the  22d  of  March,  1758,  in  the  55th 
year  of  his  age. 

"  After  he  was  sensible  that  he  could  not  survive  that  sickness,  a 
little  before  his  death,  he  called  his  daughter  to  him,  who  attended 
liim  in  his  sickness,  and  addressed  her  in  a  few  words,  v.hich  were 
immediately  taken  down  in  writing,  as  near  as  could  be  recollected, 
and  are  as  follows : — "  Dear  Lucy,  It  seems  to  me  to  be  the 
''  will  of  God,  that  I  must  shortly  leave  you  ;  therefore  give  my 
"  kindest  love  to  my  dear  wife,  and  tell  her,  that  the  uncommon 
"  union,  which  has  so  long  subsisted  between  us,  has  been  of  such  a 
"  nature,  as,  I  trust,  is  spiritual,  and  therefore  will  continue  forev- 
*'  er :  and  I  hope  she  will  be  supported  under  so  great  a  trial,  and 
"submit  cheerfully  to  the  will  of  God.  And  as  to  my  children, 
"  you  are  now  like  to  be  left  fatherless ;  which  I  hope  will  be  an 
"  inducement  to  you  all,  to  seek  a  Father,  who  will  never  fail  you. 
"  And  as  to  my  funeral,  I  would  have  it  to  be  like  IMr.  Burr's;  and 
"  any  additional  sum  of  money,  that  might  be  expected  to  be  laid 
"  out  that  way,  I  would  have  it  disposed  of  to  charitable  uses."* 

"  He  said  but  very  litde  in  his  sickness :  but  was  an  admirable 
instance  of  patience  and  resignation,  to  the  last.  Just  at  the  close 
of  life,  as  some  persons,  who  stood  by,  expecting  he  would  breath  his 
last  in  a  few  minutes,  were  lamenting  his  death,  not  only  as  a  great 
frown  on  the  college,  but  as  having  a  dark  aspect  on  the  interest 
of  religion  in  general ;  to  their  surprise,  not  imagining  that  he 
heard,  or  ever  would  speak  another  word,  he  said,  "  Trust  in  God, 
and  ye  need  not  fear."  These  were  his  last  words.  What  could 
have  been  more  suitable  to  the  occasion  !  And  what  need  of  more! 
In  these  there  is  as  much  matter  of  instruction  and  support,  as  if 
he  had  written  a  volume.  This  was  the  only  consolation  to  his 
bereaved  friends,  deeply  sensible,  as  they  were  of  the  loss  which 
they,  and  the  church  of  Christ,  had  sustained  in  his  death  :  God 

IS  ALL-SUFFICIENT,  AND   STILL  HAS  THE   CARE  OF   HIS  CHURCH.f 


=•'' President  Burr,  ordered,  on  his  death  bed,  that  his  funeral  sJiould  not 
be  attended  with  pomp  and  cost ;  that  notliing  should  bo  expended,  but 
what  was  aoreeable  to  the  dictates  of  christian  decency  ;  and  that  the  sum 
which  must  be  expended  at  a  fashionabh^  funeral,  above  the  necessary  cost 
of  a  decent  one,  should  be  given  to  the  poor,  out  of  his  estate. 

I  The  reader  may  wish  to  see  the  notice  taken  of  the  deatli  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, at  the  time  when  it  occurred.     The  followiiia'  is  the  account  of  it. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  5T9 

"He  appeared  to  have  the  uninterrupted  use  ofliis  reason  to  the 
last,  and  died  witli  as  mucJi  cahiiness  and  composure,  to  all  appear- 
ance, as  that  with  which  one  goes  to  sleep." 

The  physician,  who  inoculated  and  constantly  attended  him,  in 
his  sickness,  addressed  the  following  letter  to  Mrs.  Edwards,  on  this 
occasion : 

"To  Mrs.  Sarah  Edwards,  Stockbridge. 

''Princeton,  March  22,  1758. 

"  Most  dear  and  very  worthy  Madam, 

"  I  am  heartily  sorry  for  the  occasion  of  my  writing  to  you,  by 
this  express,  but  I  know  you  have  been  informed,  by  a  line  from 
your  excellent,  lovely  and  pious  husband,  that  I  was  brought  here 
to  inoculate  him,  and  your  dear  daughter  Esther,  and  her  children, 
for  the  small-pox,  which  was  then  spreading  fast  in  Princeton  ;  and 
that,  after  the  most  deliberate  and  serious  consultation,  with  his 
nearest  and  most  religious  friends,  he  was  accordingly  inoculated 
with  them,  the  23d  of  last  month  ;  and  although  he  had  the  small- 
pox favourably,  yet,  having  a  number  of  them  in  the  roof  of  his 
mouth  and  throat,  he  could  not  possibly  sw^allow  a  sufficient  quantity 
of  drink,  to  keep  off  a  secondary  fever,  which  has  proved  too  strong 
for  his  feeble  frame ;  and  this  afternoon,  between  two  and  three 
o'clock,  it  pleased  God  to  let  him  sleep  in  that  dear  Lord  Jesus, 
whose  kingdom  and  interest  he  has  been  faithfully  and  painfully 
serving  all  his  life.  And  never  did  any  mortal  man,  more  fully  and 
clearly  evidence  the  sincerity  of  all  his  professions,  hy  one  condnu- 
ed,  universal,  calm,  cheerful  resignation,  and  patient  submission  to 
the  divine  will,  through  every  stage  of  his  disease,  than  he  5  not  so 
much  as  one  discontented  expression,  nor  the  least  appearance  of 
murmuring,  through  the  whole.  And  never  did  any  person  expire 
with  more  perfect  freedom  from  pain  ; — not  so  much  as  one  dis- 
torted hair — but  in  the  most  proper  sense  of  the  words,  he  fell 
asleep.     Death  had  certainly  lost  its  sting,  as  to  him. 

"Your  daughter,  Mrs.  Burr,  and  her  children,  through  the  mer- 
cy of  God,  are"  safely  over  the  disease,  and  she  desires  me  to  send 


in  the  Boston  Gazette,  of  April  10,  1750.—^'  On  Wednesday,  the  22cl  of 
last  month,  died,  by  inoculation,  at  Nassau  Hall,  an  eminent  servant  of  God, 
the  llev.  pious,  Mr.  Jonathan  Edwards,  President  of  the  CoUcg-e  of  New 
Jersey;  a  gentleman  of  distinguished  abilities,  and  an  heavenly  temper  of 
mind:  a  most  rational,  generous,  catholic  and  exemplary  christian,  admi- 
red by  all  who  knew  him,  for  his  uncommon  candour  and  disinterested  bene- 
volence ;  a  pattern  of  temperance,  meekness,  patience  and  charity;  always 
steady,  calm  and  serene  ;  a  very  judicious  and  instructive  preacher,  and  a 
most  excellent  divine.  And,  as  he  lived,  cheerfully  resigned  to  the  will  of 
Heaven,  so  he  died,  or  rather,  as  the  Scriptures  emphatically  express  it, 
with  respect  to  good  men,  he/ell  asleep  in  Jesus,  without  the  least  appear- 
ance of  pain." 


580  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

her  duty  to  you,  the  best  of  mothers.  She  has  had  the  small-pox 
the  heaviest  of  all,  whom  I  have  inoculated,  and  little  Sally,  far  the 
lightest ;  she  has  but  three  in  her  face.  I  am  sure  it  will  prove  ser- 
viceable to  her  future  health. 

"I  conclude,  with  my  heart}^ prayer,  dear  Madam,  that  you  may 
be  enabled  to  look  to  that  God,  whose  love  and  goodness  you  have 
experienced  a  thousand  times,  for  direction  and  help,  under  this 
most  afflictive  dispensation  of  his  providence,  and  under  every  other 
difficulty,  you  may  meet  with  here,  in  order  to  your  being  more 
perfectly  fitted  for  the  joys  of  heaven,  hereafter. 
"I  am,  dear  Madam, 

"Your  most  sympathizing 
"And  affectionate  friend, 

"  And  very  humble  servant, 

"William  Shippen.'' 

This  letter  reached  Mrs.  Edwards,  while  in  a  feeble  state  of 
health,  when  she  was  preparing  to  pay  a  visit,  first  to  her  sister, 
Mrs.  Hopkins,  at  West  Springfield,  and  then  to  her  mother,  Mrs. 
Edwards,  of  Windsor,  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  Mr.  Edwards' 
father.  What  her  feelings  w^ere,  and  those  of  her  family,  under 
this  unexpected  and  overwhehiiing  dispensation,  can  be  more  easily 
conceived  than  described. 

"  She  had  long  told  her  intimate  friends,  that  she  had,  after  long 
struggles  and  exercises,  obtained,  by  God's  grace,  an  habitual  wil- 
hngness  to  die  herself,  or  part  with  any  of  her  most  near  relatives. 
That  she  was  willing  to  bring  forth  children  for  death  ;  and  to  resign 
up  him,  whom  she  esteemed  so  great  a  blessing  to  her  and  her  fa- 
mily, her  nearest  partner,  to  the  stroke  of  death,  whenever  God 
should  see  fit  to  take  him.  And  when  she  had  the  greatest  trial,  in 
the  death  of  Mv.  Edwards,  she  found  the  help  and  comfort  of  such 
a  disposition.  Her  conduct  on  this  occasion,  was  such  as  to  excite 
the  admiration  of  her  friends ;  it  discovered  that  she  was  sensible  of 
the  great  loss,  which  she  and  her  children  had  sustained  in  his  death  ; 
and,  at  the  same  time,  shovred  that  she  was  quiet  and  resigned,  and 
had  those  invisible  supports,  wliich  enabled  her  to  trust  in  God  with 
quietness,  hope,  and  humble  joy." 

A  few  days  afterwards,  she  addressed  the  follo\ving  Letter  to 
Mrs.  Burr. 

'' Stockbridge,  AjprilS,  1758. 

"  IMy  very  dear  Child, 

"What  shall  I  say !  A  holy  and  good  God  has  covered  us  with 
a  dark  cloud.  O  that  we  may  kiss  the  rod,  and  lay  our  hands  on 
our  mouths  !  The  Lord  has  done  it.  He  has  made  me  adore  his 
goodness,  that  we  had  him  so  long.     But  my  God  lives ;  and  he 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  581 

has  my  heart.     O  what  a  legacy  my  husband,  and  your  father,  has 
left  us  !  We  are  all  given  to  God ;  and  there  I  am,  and  love  to  be. 
"  Your  ever  affectionate  mother, 

"  Sarah  Edwards." 

On  the  same  sheet,  was  the  following  letter  from  one  of  her 
daughters. 

"  My  dear  Sister, 

"My  mother  \wote  this,  with  a  great  deal  of  pain,  in  her  neck, 
which  disabled  her  from  writing  any  more.  She  thought  you  would 
be  glad  of  these  few  lines  from  her  own  hand. 

"  O,  sister,  how  many  calls  have  we,  one  upon  the  back  of  an- 
other. O,  I  beg  your  prayers,  that  we,  who  are  young  in  this  family, 
may  be  awakened  and  excited  to  call  more  earnestly  on  God,  that 
he  w^ould  be  our  Father  and  friend  forever. 

"  My  father  took  leave  of  all  his  people  and  family  as  affection- 
ately, as  if  he  knew  he  should  not  come  again.  On  the  Sabbath  after- 
noon, he  preached  from  these  words, —  TFe  have  no  continuing  city, 
therefore  let  us  seek  one  to  come.  The  chapter  that  he  read  was 
Acts  the  20th.  O,  how  proper;  w^hat  could  behave  done  more. 
When  he  had  got  out  of  doors  he  turned  about, — "  I  commit  you  to 
God," — said  he. — I  doubt  not  but  God  will  take  a  fatherly  care  of 
us,  if  we  do  not  forget  him. 

'*  I  am  your  ever  affectionate  sister, 

"  Susannah  Edwards." 

"  StocJchridge,  Jlpril  3,  1758. 

"  Mrs.  Burr  and  her  children  were  inoculated,  at  the  same  time 
that  her  father  w^as,  and  had  recovered  when  he  died.  But  after 
she  was  perfectly  recovered,  to  all  appearance,  she  was  suddenly 
seized  with  a  violent  disorder,  which  carried  her  off  in  a  few  days  ; 
and  which,  the  physician  said,  he  could  call  by  no  name,  but  that 
of  tt'messenger,  sent  suddenly,  to  ccdl  her  out  of  the  world.  She 
died,  April  7,  1758,  sixteen  days  after  her  father,  in  the  27th  year 
of  her  age.  She  was  married  to  Mr.  Burr,  June  29,  1752.  They 
had  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter. 

"  Mrs.  Burr  exceeded  most  of  her  sex,  in  the  beauty  of  her 
person,  as  well  as  in  her  behaviour  and  conversation.  She  disco- 
vered an  unaffected,  natural  freedom,  tow^ards  persons  of  all  ranks, 
with  whom  she  conversed.  Her  genius  was  much  more  than  com- 
mon. She  had  a  lively,  sprightly  imagination,  a  quick  and  pene- 
trating discernment,  and  a  good  judgment.  She  possessed  an  un- 
common degree  of  w  it  and  vivacity ;  which  yet  was  consistent  with 
pleasantness  and  good  nature ;  and  she  knew  how  to  be  facetious 
and  sportive,  without  trespassing  on  the  bounds  of  decorum,  or  of 
strict  and  serious  religion.     In  short,  she  seemed  formed  to  please, 


5fQ2  LIFE    OF   PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

and  especially  to  please  one,  of  Mr.  Burr's  taste  and  character,  in 
whom  he  was  exceedingly  happy.  But  what  crowned  all  her  ex- 
cellencies, and  was  her  chief  glory,  was  Religion.  She  appear- 
ed to  be  the  subject  of  divine  impressions,  when  seven  or  eight 
years  old ;  and  she  made  a  public  profession  of  religion,  when 
about  fifteen.  Her  conversation,  until  her  death,  was  exemplary, 
as  becometh  godliness." — She  was,  in  every  respect,  an  ornament 
to  her  sex,  being  equally  distinguished  for  the  suavity  of  her  man- 
ners, her  literary  accomplishments,  and  her  unfeigned  regard  to  re- 
ligion. Her  religion  did  not  cast  a  gloom  over  her  mind,  but  made 
her  cheerful  and  happy,  and  rendered  the  thought  of  death  trans- 
pordng.  She  left  a  number  of  manuscripts,  on  interesting  subjects, 
and  it  w^as  hoped  they  would  have  been  made  public ;  but  they 
are  now  lost. 

Mrs.  Edwards  did  not  long  survive  her  husband.  In  Septem- 
ber, she  set  out,  in  good  health,  on  a  journey  to  Philadelphia,  to 
take  care  of  her  tw^o  orphan  grand-children,  which  were  now  in 
that  city ;  and  had  been,  since  the  death  of  Mrs.  Burr.  As  they 
had  no  relations  in  those  parts,  Mrs.  Edwards  proposed  to  take 
them  into  her  own  family.  She  arrived  there,  by  the  way  of 
Princeton,  Sept.  21,  in  good  health,  having  had  a  comfortable 
journey.  But,  in  a  few  days,  she  was  seized  with  a  violent  dysen- 
tery, w^iich,  on  the  fifth  day,  put  an  end  to  her  life,  October  2d, 
1758,  in  the  49th  year  of  her  age.  She  said  not  much  in  her 
sickness  ;  being  exercised,  most  of  the  time,  with  violent  pain.  On 
the  morning  of  the  day  she  died,  she  apprehended  her  death  w^as 
near,  when  she  expressed  her  entire  resignation  to  God,  and  her 
desire  that  he  might  be  glorified  in  all  things  ;  and  that  she  might 
be  enabled  to  glorify  him  to  the  last :  and  continued  in  such  a  tem- 
per, calm  and  resigned,  till  she  died. 

Her  remains  were  carried  to  Princeton,  and  deposited  with  those 
of  Mr.  Edwards.  Thus  they,  who  were  in  their  lives  remarkably 
lovely  and  pleasant,  in  their  death  were  not  much  divided.  Here, 
the  father  and  mother,  the  son  and  daughter,  were  laid  together  in 
the  grave,  within  the  space  of  a  litde  more  than  a  year ;  though  a 
few  months  before,  their  dwelling  was  more  than  150  miles  apart : 
— two  Presidents  of  the  same  College,  and  their  consorts,  than 
whom,  it  will  doubtless  be  hard  to  find  four  persons,  more  valuable 
and  useful ! 

By  these  repeated  strokes,  following  in  quick  succession,  the 
American  Church,  within  a  few  months,  sustained  a  loss,  which 
probably,  in  so  short  a  space  of  time,  will  never  be  equalled. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Edwards  lived  together,  in  the  married  state, 
above  thirty  years ;  in  wliich  time,  they  had  eleven  children,  three 
sons,  and  eight  daughters.     The  second  daughter  died,  Feb.  14, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWAUDS.  583 

1748.     The  third  daughter  was  Mrs.  Burr.     The  youngest  daugh- 
ter, Elizabeth,  died  soon  after  her  parents.^' 

The  Trustees  of  the  College  erected  a  marble  monument,  over 
the  grave  of  jVIi\  Edwards,  which  has  the  following  inscription : 

M.  S. 
Reverendi  admodiim  Viri, 

JONATHAN  EDWARDS,  A.  M, 

Collegii  Novae  CgBsarige  Preesidis. 
Natus  apud  Windsor  Connecticutensium  V.  OctobrLs. 

A.    D.    MDCCIII,    s.    V. 

Patre  Reverendo  Timotheo  Edwards  oriundus, 

Collegio  Yalensi  educatiis ; 

Apud  Northampton  Sacris  initiatus.  xv  Februarii, 

MDCCXXVI-Vir. 

Illinc  dimissus  xxii  Junii,  mdccl. 

Et  Munus  Barbaros  instituendi  accepit. 

Prseses  Aulas  Nassovicae  creatus  xvi  Februarii, 

MDCCLVIII. 

Defunctus  in  hoc  Vico  xxii  Martii  soquentis,  s.  is. 
yEtatis  LV,  heu  nimis  brevisl 

Hie  jacet  mortalis  pars. 

Qualis  Persona  quoBris,  Viator? 

Vir  Corpore  procero,  sed  gracili, 

Studiis  intensissirnis,  Abstinentia,  et  SeduUtate, 

Attenuate. 

Ingenii  acumine,  Judicio  acri,  et  Prudentia, 

Secundus  Nemini  Mortalium. 

Artium  hberahum  et  Scientiarum  peritia  insignis, 

Criticorum  sacrorum  optimus,  Theologus  eximius, 

Ut  vix  alter  tequalis ;  Disputator  candidus  ; 

Fidei  Cliristianos  Propugnator  validus  et  invictus; 

Conconiator  gravis,  serins,  discriminans; 

Et,  Deo  ferente,  Successu 

Felicissimus. 

Pietate  prseclarus,  Moribus  suis  severus, 

Ast  aliis  asquus  et  benign  us. 

VixJt  dilectus,  veneratus — 

Sed,  ah !  lugendus 

Moriebatur. 

Quantos  Gemitus  discedens  ciebat! 

Heu  Sapientia  tanta!  heu  Doctrina  et  Religio  I 

Amissum  plorat  Collegium,  plorat  et  Ecclesia: 

At,  eo  recepto,  gaudet 

Coelum. 

Abi,  Viator,  et  pia  sequere  Vestigia. 


■'^  Sec  Appendix   K. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Concluding  Remarks, 

The  writer  of  the  preceding  pages  regrets,  at  least  as  sincerely 
as  any  of  his  readers,  that  the  collection  of  facts,  which  they  con- 
tain, is  not  more  full  and  complete ;  yet,  in  consequence  of  the  long 
interval,  which  has  elapsed  since  the  death  of  President  Edwards, 
they  are  all,  which,  after  much  time,  and  labour  and  travel,  he  has 
been  able  to  discover.  Such  as  they  are,  they  constitute,  with  his 
writings,  the  body  of  materials,  from  which  we  are  to  form  our  es- 
timate of  his  character,  as  an  intelligent  and  moral  being. 

In  reviewing  them,  it  is  delightful  to  remember,  in  the  outset, 
that,  so  far  as  the  human  eye  could  judge,  the  indi\iduals  of  both 
the  families  from  which  he  derived  his  descent,  were,  as  far  back 
as  we  can  trace  them,  distinguished  for  their  piety.  Each  married 
pair,  in  both  lines,  with  that  care  and  conscientiousness,  which  so 
generally  marked  the  Pilgrims  of  New  England,  and  their  Puritan 
ancestors,  trained  up  their  children  in  the  fear  of  God  ;  and  con- 
tinued, through  life,  to  supplicate  daily  the  Divine  favour,  on  tliem 
and  their  descend ents,  in  all  succeeding  generations.  Their  prayers, 
ascending  separately  and  successively  indeed,  were  yet  embodied  in 
their  influence,  and  from  Him,  who  "  showeth  mercy  to  thousands 
of  generations  of  them  that  love  him,  and  keep  his  commandments," 
called  down  concentrated  blessings  on  their  common  offspring.  So 
full,  so  rich,  w^ere  these  blessings,  as  bestowed  on  the  subject  of 
this  memoir,  that,  perhaps,  no  one  example  on  record  furnishes  a 
stronger  encouragement  to  parents,  to  WTCstle  wuth  God  for  the  ho- 
liness and  the  salvation  of  their  posterity. 

It  was  owing  to  the  moral  influence  thus  exerted,  and  to  the  Di- 
vine favour  thus  secured,  that,  when  we  review  the  childhood  and 
youth  of  Mr.  Edwards,  we  find  them  not  only  passing  with- 
out a  stain  upon  his  memory,  but  marked  by  a  purity  and  excel- 
lence, rarely  witnessed  at  so  early  a  period  of  life.  The  religious 
impressions,  made  upon  his  mind  in  childhood,  were  certainly  fre- 
quent, deep,  and  of  long  continuance,  and  had  a  powerful  effect 
upon  his  ultimate  character ;  yet  the  estimate,  formed  of  their  real 
nature  by  different  persons,  will  probably  be  different.  His  own 
estimate  of  them  was,  unquestionably,  that  they  were  not  the  result 
of  real  religion. 

The  circumstances,  which  led  him  to  this  conclusion,  were  these 


iiJFfi    OF    PICESIDENT    EDWARDS^.  585 

two : — First,  That,  after  he  had  cherished  the  hope  of  his  own 
conversion,  for  a  considerable  period,  and  had  experienced  a  high 
degree  of  joy,  in  what  he  regarded  as  communion  with  God,  he  lost 
imperceptibly  this  spirituality  of  mind,  relinquished  for  a  season  the 
"  constant  performance"  of  the  practice  of  secret  prayer,  and  che- 
rished many  affections  of  a  w^orldly  and  sinful  character : — Second- 
ly, That,  when  he  recovered  from  this  state  of  declension,  his- 
views  of  divine  truth,  particularly  those  connected  with  the  Sove- 
reignty of  God,  were  in  many  respects  new,  and  far  more  clear 
and  delightful,  than  any  which  he  had  previously  formed. 

Without  calling  in  question  the  fact,  that  a  given  individual  has, 
on  some  accounts,  decidedly  superior  advantages  forjudging  of  his 
own  christian  character,  than  others  enjoy  5  and  without  presuming 
to  decide  on  the  correctness  of  the  estimate,  thus  formed  by  Mr, 
Edwards ;  it  may  not  be  improper  to  state  various  circumstances, 
which  lead  me  to  suspect,  that  it  may  perhaps  have  been  errone- 
ous: 1.  The  declension,  of  whir- h  he  complains,  appears  to  have 
been  chiefly,  or  wholly,  a  declension  in  the  state  of  the  afFecdons. 
2.  Those  impressions  began,  when  he  was  seven  or  eight  years  of 
age,  and  were  so  powerful  and  lasting,  as  to  render  religion  the 
great  object  of  attention,  for  a  number  of  years.  As  made  on  the 
mind  of  such  a  child,  they  w^ere  very  remarkable,  even  if  w^e  sup- 
pose them  to  have  resulted  in  piety.  3.  The  season  of  his  de- 
clension commenced  soon  after  his  admission  to  college,  when  he 
was  twelve  years  of  age.  That  a  truly  pious  child,  in  consequence 
of  leaving  his  early  religious  connections  and  associations,,  and  es- 
pecially the  altar  and  the  incense  of  the  parental  sanctuary,  of  re- 
moving to  a  new  place  of  residence,  of  entering  on  a  new  course  of 
life,  of  forming  new"  acquaintances  and  attachments,  of  feeling  the 
strong  attractions  of  study,  and  the  pow^erful  incentives  of  ambi- 
tion, and  of  being  exposed  to  the  new  and  untried  temptations  of  a 
public  seminary  ;  should,  for  a  season,  so  far  decline  from  his  pre- 
vious spirituality,  as  to  lose  ail  hope  of  his  own  conversion,  is  so  far 
from  being  a  surprizing  event,  that,  in  ordinary  cases,  it  is  perhaps 
to  be  expected.  Piety,  at  its  commencement  in  the  mind,  is  usu- 
ally feeble  ;  and  especially  is  it  so,  in  the  mind  of  a  child.  How 
often  are  similar  declensions  witnessed,  even  at  a  later  age.  Yet 
the  subject  of  such  backsliding,  though,  during  its  continuance,  he 
may  well  renounce  the  hope  of  his  conversion,  does  not  usually  re- 
gard the  period  of  his  recovery,  as  the  commencement  of  his  chris- 
tian life. — 4.  He  had  not,  at  this  period,  made  a  public  profession 
of  religion  ;  and,  of  course,  was  not  restrained  from  such  declen- 
sion by  his  own  covenant,  by  communion  w  ith  christians,  or  by  the 
consciousness,  that,  as  a  visible  christian,  his  faults  were  subjected 
to  the  inspection  and  the  censure  of  the  surround*ing  w^orld.  5. 
Though  charitable  in  judging  others,  he  was  at  least  equally  severe 
in  judging  himself.     6.  He  appears,  at  a  very  early  period,  to  have 

Vol.  I.  74 


o80  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS, 

formed  views  of  the  purity  of  the  christian  character — of  the  de- 
gree of  freedom  from  sin,  and  of  the  degree  of  actual  holiness, 
requisite  to  justify  the  hope  of  conversion — altogether  more  eleva- 
ted in  their  nature,  than  the  truth  will  warrant.  7.  That  his  views 
of  divine  truth — particularly  of  the  Sovereignty  of  God — should 
have  opened,  after  the  age  of  twelve,  with  so  much  greater  clear- 
ness and  beauty,  as  to  appear  wholly  new,  was  to  have  been  ex- 
pected from  the  nature  of  the  case.  8.  At  a  subsequent  period, 
when  his  mind  was  incessantly  occupied  by  the  unusual  perplexi- 
ties of  his  tutorship,  he  complained  of  a  similar  declension.  9. 
The  purity,  strength  and  comprehensiveness,  of  his  piet)",  as  exhi- 
bited immediately  after  his  public  profession  of  Christianity,  was  so 
much  superior  to  what  is  frequently  witnessed,  in  christians  of  an 
advanced  standing,  as  almost  to  force  upon  us  the  conviction  that 
it  commenced, — not  a  few  months  before,  at  the  time  of  his  sup- 
posed conversion,  but — at  a  much  earlier  period  of  life.  Rare  in- 
deed is  the  fact,  that  holiness  is  not,  at  its  commencement  in  the 
soul,  "  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed,  which  is  the  least  of  all  seeds ;" 
and  though  in  the  rapidity  of  its  growth,  it  differs  widely  in  different 
soils,  yet  time  is  indispensably  necessary,  before  hs  fruits  can  cover 
the  full-grown  plant,  like  the  clusters  on  the  vine. — These  conside- 
rations, and  particularly  the  last,  have  led  me  to  believe,  that  the 
early  religious  impressions  of  i\Ir.  Edwards  are  to  be  regarded,  as 
having  been  the  result  of  a  gracious  operation  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 
upon  his  heart. 

Under  this  happy  influence,  exerted  in  childhood,  his  character 
w^as  formed.  It  prompted  him  then  to  study  the  Scriptures,  to  love 
prayer,  to  sanctify  the  sab;3ath.  and  to  pay  an  unusual  attention  to 
the  duties  of  religion.  It  iaspired  him  with  reverence  towards  God. 
and  made  him  afraid  to  sin.  It  rendered  him  conscientious  in  the 
performance  of  every  relative  duty,  in  manifesting  love  and  grati- 
tude, honour  and  obedience,  towards  his  parents,  kindness  and  cour- 
teousness  towards  his  sisters,  and  the  other  companions  of  his  child- 
hood, respect  and  deference  to  his  superiors,  and  good  will  to  all 
around  him.  It  led  him  also,  at  a  very  early  period,  to  overcome 
that  aversion  to  mental  labour,  which  is  so  natural  to  man,  and  to 
devote  himself  with  exemplary  assiduity  to  the  great  dut^^,  daily 
assigned  him,  of  storing  his  mind  with  useful  knowledge.  Some 
of  our  readers,  we  are  aware,  may  perhaps  regard  the  recollections 
of  his  earlier  years,  as  of  litde  importance  ;  but  those,  who  cherish 
common  sympathies,  with  the  whole  body  of  evangelical  christians, 
in  the  deep  interest  which  they  feel  in  his  character  and  efforts,  and 
who  reflect,  that  the  foundation  of  that  character  and  of  those  ef- 
forts was  then  laid,  will  require  of  us  no  apology  for  thus  exhibiting 
ihe  comparative  innocence  and  purity,  the  docility  and  amiableness, 
the  tenderness  of  conscience,  the  exemplary  industry,  and  the  ar- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  58T 

dent  thirst  for  knowledge,  which  characterized  this  vernal  season 
of  his  life. 

The  developement  of  mental  superiority,  in  the  childhood  and 
youth  of  Mr.  Edwards,  was  certainly  uncommon,  if  not  singular. 
Boys  of  the  age  of  eleven  and  twelve,  even  when  receiving  every 
aid  from  their  parents  and  instructors,  and  when  feeling  the  influ- 
ence of  all  the  motives,  which  they  can  present,  are  usually  unwil- 
ling, in  any  branch  of  natural  science,  to  examine,  so  as  thoroughly 
to  comprehend,  the  discoveries  and  investigations  of  others.  Still 
more  unwilling  are  they  to  make  this  examination,  when  no  such 
aid  is  furnished,  and  no  such  inducements  are  presented.  But 
rare  indeed  is  the  instance,  in  which  the  attention  of  such  a  boy 
has  been  so  far  arrested,  by  any  of  the  interesdng  phenomena,  in 
either  of  the  kingdoms  of  nature,  that  he  has  tieen  led,  without 
prompting,  and  without  aid,  to  pursue  a  series  of  exact  observations 
and  discoveries,  as  to  the  facts  themselves ;  to  search  out  their 
causes  ;  and,  as  tlie  result  of  the  w^hole,  to  draw  up  and  present  a 
lucid,  systematic  and  well  digested,  report  of  his  investigations. — 
The  examination  of  the  character  and  habits  of  the  Wood-spider, 
made  of  his  own  accord  by  Edwards,  at  the  age  specified,  and 
pursued  through  a  long  series  of  observations  and  deductions,  evin- 
ces a  power  of  attention,  and  an  accuracy  of  conclusion,  which 
would  have  qualified  him  at  that  time,  if  possessed  of  the  proper 
instruments  and  specimens,  for  almost  any  investigations  of  Natural 
History.  The  Report  of  it,  also,  if  we  except  the  childishness  of 
some  of  its  phraseology,  which,  indeed,  only  adds  to  its  interest,  is 
as  well  arranged  and  luminous,  as  the  well-written  papers,  which 
we  now  find  in  the  Journals  of  Science.  Perhaps  it  may  be  ques- 
tioned, whether  higher  evidence  of  a  mature  and  manly  mind,  in 
so  young  a  child,  has  hitherto  been  presented  to  the  world. 

After  the  lapse  of  a  little  more  than  a  year,  just  as  he  attained  the 
age  of  fourteen,  we  find  him  entering  on  pursuits  of  a  still  higher 
character.  Few  boys  of  that  age  have  sufficient  strength  of  intel- 
lect, to  comprehend  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding. 
Of  those  who  have,  but  a  small  proportion  can  be  persuaded  to  read 
it ;  and  a  much  smaller,  still,  are  found  to  read  it  voluntarily,  and 
of  choice.  We  find  Edwards,  however,  at  this  period  of  life,  not 
only  entering  on  this  work,  of  his  own  accord,  and  with  deep  inte- 
rest, but  at  once  relinquishing  every  other  pursuit,  that  he  may  de- 
vote himself  wholly  to  the  philosophy  of  the  mind  ;  and,  to  use  his 
own  language,  "  enjoying  a  far  higher  pleasure  in  the  perusal  of  its 
pages,  than  the  most  greedy  miser  finds,  when  gathering  up  hand- 
fuls  of  silver  and  gold,  from  some  newly  discovered  treasure." 
Nor  is  this  all.  While  reading  the  work  of  Locke,  he  presents 
himself  before  us,  not  as  a  pupil,  nor  simply  as  a  cridc ;  but  in  the 
higher  character  of  an  investigator,  exploring  for  himself  the  un> 
verse  of  minds,  and  making  new  and  interesting  discoveries.     Forr 


5SS  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

tunately  his  investigations  are  preserved,  and  may  be  compared 
with  the  efforts  of  other  distinguished  men,  at  the  same  period  of 
life,  in  other  conntries  and  in  other  ages.  And  if  any  one  of  all  those 
efforts  discovers  greater  perspicacity  and  mental  energy,  than  the 
"  Notes  on  the  Mind  ;"  particularly,  the  articles  entitled.  Being, 
Space,  Motion,  Genus,  the  Will,  and  Excellency ;  we  are  yet  to 
learn  where  it  is  to  be  found,  and  who  was  its  author.  The  discus- 
sion of  the  very  important  and  difficult  question,  in  the  last  of  these 
articles,  What  is  the  Foundation  of  Exceli^ency — of  Excel- 
lency in  its  most  enlarged  acceptation,  in  things  material  and  spi- 
ritual, in  things  intellectual,  imaginative  and  moral, — is  not  only 
original,  as  to  its  youthful  author,  and  profound,  but  is  even  now, 
we  believe,  in  various  respects,  new  to  the  investigations  of  philo- 
sophy.* The  Notes  on  Natural  Science,  furnish  similar 
proofs  of  high  mental  superiorit}" ;  and,  by  their  variety  of  topics, 
their  general  accuracy,  and  their  originality,  evince  a  power  and 
comprehension,  discovered  by  onty  here  and  there  an  individual, 
when  possessed  of  the  full  maturity  of  his  faculties.  His  habits  of 
thinking  and  reasoning,  at  this  time  of  life,  appear  to  have  been  as 
severe,  as  exact  and  as  successful,  as  those  of  the  most  accomplish- 
ed scholars  usually  are,  in  the  vigour  of  manhood.  The  plan  of 
study,  itself,  which  he  then  formed, — of  studying  with  his  pen;  and 
of  immediately,  and  of  course,  employing  the  principles  of  the  sci- 
ence he  was  examining,  which  had  been  already  detailed  and  de- 
monstrated by  others,  in  the  discovery  of  new  principles, — is  at  least 
equal  evidence  of  the  same  superiority.  So  vigorous  was  the  men- 
tal soil,  that  the  seeds  of  thought  could  not  be  implanted  therein, 
without  being  quickened  at  once,  and  made  to  grow  into  a  rich  and 
abundant  harvest.  Lookmg  at  these  two  series  of  Notes,  in  con- 
nection with  the  plan  of  study  under  which  they  grew,  and  then 
comparing  them,  %  the  aid  of  recollection,  with  the  efforts  of  other 
children  and  youths  of  uncommon  promise  ;  we  instincdvely  ask, 
When,  and  where,  has  the  individual  lived,  who  has  left  behind  him 
substantial  proofs,  that  he  has  possessed,  at  the  same  age,  a  mind 
moi  e  powerful,  comprehensive  or  creative  ? 

These  conclusions  are  only  confirmed,  by  the  sui^ey  of  his  suc- 
ceeding years.  Though  drawn  away  from  the  entire  devotion  of 
his  mind  to  his  collegiate  studies,  by  (what  were  to  him)  the  alluring 
blandishments  of  Mental  philosophy,  he  yet  sustained  in  his  class 
the  first  standing  as  a  scholar ;  and,  though  leaving  college  when 
sixteen,  he  was  not  too  young  to  receive  its  highest  honours.  Hav- 
ing entered  the  desk  at  eighteen,  he  was,  after  a  few  trials,  designa- 
ted by  a  number  of  gentlemen  of  a  superior  character,  for  a  very 


*The  last  article  under  this  head,  is  obviously  the  foundation  of  the  au* 
thor's  subsequent  Treatise  on  the  Nature  of  True  Virtue. 


LIFE  OF  pr:esident  ebwards.  589 

important  and  difficult  station  ;  to  which,  as  well  as  to  various  other 
interesting  fields  of  labour,  he  received  most  pressing  invitations. 

The  extraordinary  difficulties  and  perplexities  of  the  college, 
while  he  was  one  of  its  officers,  sufficient  as  they  were  to  have  over- 
whelmed a  common  mind,  only  served  to  furnish  him  and  his  col- 
leagues a  fairer  opportunit}%  to  show  forth  the  superiority  of  their 
own  vcharacter.  By  their  wisdom  and  fidelity,  the  college  was 
preserved  and  enlarged,  when  in  imminent  danger  of  ruin  ;  and  the 
period  of  their  administration  will  ever  be  regarded,  as  one  of  the 
•most  important  eras  in  its  history. 

While  the  review  of  the  childhood  and  youth  of  Mr.  Edwards 
thus  forces  upon  us  the  conviction,  that,  in  the  early  developement 
of  extraordinary  mental  powers,  he  has  had  few  equals ;  and  enables 
us  to  reflect,  with  pleasure,  that  these  powers  were  never  prostituted 
to  folly,  or  to  vice,  but,  from  the  beginning  were  faithfully  devoted 
to  the  great  end  for  which  they  were  given ;  it  also  leads  us  to  re- 
mark, that  his  character,  as  a  moral  being,  was  thoroughly  formed 
and  established,  at  a  very  early  period  of  life.  Like  a  dutiful 
child,  he  listened,  indeed,  to  the  counsels  of  his  parents,  as  to  ttie 
principles  by  which  his  conduct  bhould  be  regulated  ;  but  he  also 
ex-amlned  for  himself  the  foundations  of  those  principles,  and,  hav- 
ing discovered  that  they  were  firm  and  immoveable,  formed  out  of 
them  a  series  of  rules,  for  the  systematic  regulation  of  his  own  con- 
duct. These  rules,  particularly  as  exemplified  in  the  journal  of  his 
^iaily  life,  evince  not  only  a  pure  and  transparent  sincerity,  and  the 
greatest  openness  of  soul  towards  God  ;  as  well  as  an  inspection, 
nretaphy  sic  ally  accurate,  of  his- own  mind,  and  a  thorough  acquaint- 
ance witli  his  own  heart ;  but  a  knowledge  of  his  duty, — to  God, 
his  fellow-men  and  himself, — and  a  conscientiousness  in  performing 
it,  which  are  usually  the  result  of  great  wisdom  and  piety,  combi- 
ned with  long  experience.  They  grew,  obviously,  out  of  a  dispo- 
sition to  turn  every  occurrence  of  life  to  a  religious  use,  and  thus  to 
grow  wiser  and  better,  continually,  under  the  course  of  discipline, 
to  which  the  providence  of  God  subjected  him.  They  appear  to 
have  been  made  under  the  immediate  inspection  of  the  Omniscient 
^ye,  with  a  solemn  conviction  that  he  was  an  immortal  being,  form- 
ed to  act  on  the  same  theatre  with  God,  and  angels,  and  die  just 
made  perfect,  in  carrying  forward  the  kingdom  of  holiness  and  joy, 
in  its  ever  enlarging  progress.  Viewing  him.self,  as  just  entering  on 
this  career  of  glory,  he  adopted,  for  the  permanent  direction  of  his 
course,  the  best  and  noblest  resolution,  that  an  intelligent  being  can 
•form ; — "  Resolved,  That  I  will  do  whatsoever  I  think  to  be  most 
to  the  glory  of  God,  and  my  own  good,  profit  and  pleasure,  in  the 
whole  of  my  duration ;  without  any  consideration  of  the  time,  whe- 
ther now,  or  never  so  many  myriads  of  ages  hence  :  resolved,  to  do 
whatsoever  I  think  to  be  my  duty,  and  most  for  the  good  and  ad- 
vantage of  mankind  in  general :  resolved,  so  to  do,  whatever  diffi- 


590  I^l*'E    OF    PRESIDENT    EBWARDS. 

culties  I  meet  with,  how  many  soever,  and  how  great  soever."    In 
the  spirit  of  this  resolution,  we  find  him,  with  all  the  earnestness  of 
which  he  was  capable,  giving  up  himself  to  God, — all  that  he  was, 
and  all  that  he  possessed, — so  as  habitually  to  feel  that  he  was  in 
no  respect  his  own,  and  could  challenge  no  right  to  the  faculties  of 
his  body,  to  the  powers  of  his  mind,  or  the  affections  of  his  heart; 
receiving  Christ  as  a  prince,  and  a  saviour,  under  a  solemn  cove- 
nant to  adhere  to  the  faith  and  obedience  of  the  gospel,  however 
hazardous  and  difficult  the  profession  and  practice  of  it  might  be  ; 
and  taking  the  Holy  Spirit  as  his  teacher,  sanctifier  and  only  com- 
forter.    And,  in  accordance  with  both,  we  find  him,  at  this  time, 
regularly  making  the  glory  of  God  the  great  end  for  which  he  liv- 
ed ;  habitually  trusting  in  God,  to  such  a   degree,   as   to  feel  no 
uneasiness  about  his  worldly  condition ;  maintaining  the  most  open 
and  confidential  intercourse  with   his  Maker  ;  cherishing   exalted 
thoughts  of  Christ  and  his  salvation  ;  feeling  himself  to  be  a  part  of 
Christ,  and  to  have  no  separate  interest  from  his  ;  exercising  a  filial 
and  delightful  sense  of  dependence  on  the  Holy  Spirit,  for  the  daily 
communication  of  his  grace ;  regarding  communion  with  God  as 
the  very  fife  and  sustenance  of  the   soul ;  delighting  in   praising 
God,  and  in  singing  his  praises,  and  as  much  when  alone,  as  in  the 
company  of  others  ;  often  observing  days  of  secret  fasting,  that  he 
might  discover,  and  repent  of,  and  renounce  every  sin  ;  maintain- 
ing a  constant  warfare   against  sin  and  temptation  ;  frequently  re- 
newing his   dedication  of  himself  to  God  ;  conversing  daily  and 
familiarly  with  his  own  death  and  his  own  final  trial ;  rejoicing  ha- 
bitually in  the  divine  perfections  and  the  divine  government ;  reve- 
rentially acknowledging  the  divine  hand  in  all  the  works  of  nature, 
and  in  all  the  events  of  providence ;  exhibiting  a  calm  and  sweet 
submission  to  the  divine  will  under  all  the  afflictions  of  life,  so  that 
he  could  regard  afflictions  as  real  and  great  blessings ;  and  enabled 
so  to  live  v.ith  God,  from  day  to  day,  and  from  hour  to  hour,  as  to 
be  delightfully  conscious  of  his  presence,  to  refer  his  inmost  mind 
to  the  inspection  of  his  eye,  to  value  his  approbation  above  all  things 
else,  to  cherish  a  joyful  sense  of  union  to  him,  to  converse  with 
him,  as  a  father,  concerning  his  wants,  infirmities  and  sins,  his  dan- 
gers, duties  and  trials,  his  joys  and  sorrows,  his  fears  and  desires, 
his  hopes  and  prospects,  and  to  commune  with  him  in  all  his  works 
and  dispensations,  in  his  perfections  and  his  glory.      And,  as  the 
result  of  this,  we  find  the  Spirit  of  God  unfolding  to  him  the  won- 
ders of  divine  truth  ;  vouchsafing  to  him  joyful  and  glorious  discov- 
eries of  the  perfections  of  God,  as  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the 
Holy  Spirit ;  enabling  him  to  live,  as  in  the  immediate  presence  and 
vision  of  the  things  that  are  unseen  and  eternal;  and  communicating 
to  him  a  joyful  assurance  of  the  favour  of  God,  and  of  a  title  to  future 
glory. 

This  state  of  his  heart  towai'ds  God,  prepared  him  for  a  just  es- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  591 

timate  of  his  own  character,  for  the  formation  of  the  best  habits, 
and  for  a  conscientious  and  faitliful  government  over  himself.  The 
daily  and  Ci.reful  survey  of  his  sins,  by  the  light  of  the  divine  hoh- 
ness,  enabled  him  to  discover  the  deceitfulness  of  his  own  heart, 
and  led  him  habitually  to  abhor  himself,  to  form  none  but  humbhng 
and  abasing  views  of  his  own  attainments  in  piety,  and  to  esteem 
others  better  than  himself.  There  was  something  extremely  deli- 
cate in  his  constitution ;  which  always  obliged  him  to  the  exactest 
rules  of  temperance,  and  every  method  of  cautious  and  prudent 
living.  His  temperance  was  the  result  of  principle.  It  was  not 
the  mere  ordinary  care  and  watchfulness  of  temperate  people,  but 
such  a  degree  of  self-denial,  both  as  to  the  quantity  and  quality  of  his 
food,  as  left  his  mind,  in  every  part  of  the  day,  aUke  unclouded  in 
its  views,  and  unembarrassed  in  its  movements.  We  have  seen, 
from  his  diary,  that  he  rose  at  a  very  early  hour,  throughout  the 
year ;  that,  in  the  morning,  he  considered  well  the  business  and 
studies,  of  the  day,  resolved  to  pursue  that  which  was  the  most  im- 
portant; that  his  habits  of  punctuality  were  exact  and  thorough  ;  that 
he  husbanded  his  time,  as  the  miser  guards  his  choicest  treasures ; 
not  losing  it  even  in  his  walks,  his  rides,  or  his  journeys ;  and  not 
allowing  himself  to  leave  his  study  for  the  table,  if  his  mind  would 
thereby  lose  its  brighter  moments,  and  its  happier  sequences  of 
thought  and  discovery ;  and  that,  in  consequence  of  this  regularity 
of  life,  and  an  exact  and  punctilious  regard  to  bodily  exercise,  he  was 
enabled  to  spend  an  unusual  pordon  of  every  day,  in  severe  and 
laborious  mental  application.*  Let  it  also  be  remembered,  by 
every  clergyman,  that  notwithstanding  the  exact  discipline  to  which 
his  mind  had  been  subjected,  by  the  course  of  his  education,  and 
by  his  long  devotion  to  metaphysical  pursuits,  he  continued  his  at- 
tention to  mathematical  studies,  as  a  source,  alike,  of  recreation, 
and  improvement,  throughout  the  whole  of  his  ministerial  life. 

The  habits  of  his  religious  life,  which  he  formed  in  his  youth, 
were  not  less  thorough  and  exact.  His  observation  of  the  sabbath 
was  such  as  to  make  it,  throughout,  a  day  of  real  religion ;  so  that 
not  only  were  his  conversation  and  reading  conformed  to  the  great 
design  of  the  day,  but  he  allowed  himself  in  no  thoughts  or  medi- 
tations, which  were  not  decidedly  of  a  religious  character.  It  was 
his  rule,  not  only  to  search  the  Scriptures  daily,  but  to  study  them 
so  steadily,  constantly  and  frequently,  as  that  he  might  perceive  a 
regular  and  obvious  growth  in  his  knowledge  of  them.  By  prayer 
and   self-application,  he   took  constant  care  to  render  them  the 

*0n  a  preceding  page  it  is  stated,  on  the  authority  of  Dr.  Hopkins,  that 
he  regularly  spent  thirteen  hours,  every  day,  in  close  study.  After  receiv- 
ing the  invitation  to  Princeton,  he  told  his  eldest  son,  that  he  had  for  many 
years  sT^ent  fourteen  hours  a  day  in  study;  and  mentioned  the  necessity  of 
giving  up  a  part  of  this  time  to  other  pursuits,  as  one  of  his  chief  objections 
against  accepting  the  office  of  President. 


59^  LIFE    OF    PRESIDEN'T    EDWVRDS. 

means  of  progressive  sanctification.  He  made  a  secret  of  his  pri- 
vate devotions,  observes  Dr.  Jiopkins,  and  therefore  they  cannot 
be  particularly  known  ;  though  there  is  much  evidence  that  he  was 
punctual,  constant  and  frequent,  in  secret  prayer,  and  often  kept 
days  of  fasting  and  prayer  in  secret,  and  set  apart  time  for  serious, 
devout  meditations  on  spiritual  and  eternal  diings,  as  part  of  his  re- 
ligious exercises  in  secret.  It  appears  from  his  Diary,  that  his  stated 
seasons  of  secret  prayer  were,  from  his  youth,  three  times  a  day, — in 
his  journeys,  as  well  as  at  home.  He  was,  so  far  as  can  be  known, 
much  on  his  knees  in  secret,  and  in  devout  reading  of  God's  word, 
and  meditation  upon  it.  And  his  constant,  solemn  converse  with 
God,  in  these  exercises  of  secret  religion,  made  his  face,  as  it  were, 
to  shine  before  others.  His  appearance,  his  countenance,  his  words 
and  whole  demeanour,  were  attended  with  a  seriousness,  gravity 
and  solemnity,  which  was  the  natural,  genuine,-  indication  and  ex- 
pression, of  a  deep  abiding  sense  of  divine  things  on  his  mind,  and 
of  his  living  constantly  in  the  fear  of  God.  His  watchfulness  over 
himself — over  his  external  conduct  and  over  his  secret  thoughts 
and  purposes — was  most  thorough  and  exemplary.  The  fear  of 
God,  and  a  consciousness  of  his  own  weakness,  made  him  habitu- 
ally apprehensive  of  sin,  and  led  him  most  carefully  to  avoid  every 
temptation.  His  self-examination  was  regular,  universal,  and  in  a 
sense  constant.  Every  morning  he  endeavoured  to  foresee,  and  to 
guard  against,  the  dangers  of  the  day.  Every  night  he  carefully 
reviewed  the  conduct  of  his  mind,  during  its  progress,  and  enquir- 
ed, wherein  he  had  been  negligent ;  what  sin  he  had  committed  ; 
wherein  he  had  denied  himself;  and  regularly  kept  an  account  of 
every  thing,  which  he  found  to  be  wrong.  This  record  he  review- 
ed at  the  close  of  the  week,  of  the  month,  and  of  the  year,  and  on 
the  occurrence  of  every  important  change  in  life ;  that  he  might 
know  his  own  condition,  and  that  he  might  carry  his  sins  in  humble 
confession  before  God.  Whenever  he  so  much  questioned  whe- 
ther he  had  done  his  duty,  as  that  the  quiet  of  his  mind  was  there- 
by disturbed,  he  regularly  set  it  down,  that  he  might  examine  its 
real  nature  ;  and,  if  found  in  any  respect  to  be  wrong,  might  put  it 
away.  Every  course  of  conduct,  which  led  him  in  the  least  to 
doubt  of  the  love  of  God  ;  every  action  of  his  mind,  the  review  of 
which  would  give  him  uneasiness  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  on  his 
final  trial ;  he  endeavoured,  with  all  his  strength,  to  avoid.  Every 
obvious  sin,  he  traced  back  to  its  original,  that  he  might  afterward 
know  where  his  danger  lay.  Every  desire,  which  might  prove  the 
occasion  of  sin, — the  desire  of  wealth,  of  ease,  of  pleasure,  of  in- 
fluence, of  fame,  of  popularity, — as  well  as  every  bodily  appetite, 
he  strove  not  only  to  watch  against,  but  habitually  and  unceasingly 
to  mortify  ;  regarding  occasions  of  great  self-denial  as  glorious  op- 
portunities of  destroying  sin,  and  of  confirming  himself  in  holiness; 
and  uniformly  finding  that  his  greatest  mortifications  were  succeeded 


]AVE    OF    PRESIlJHXT     F.D'.VVHDS.  593 

by  the  greatest  comforts.  On  the  approach  of  affliction,  he  search- 
ed out  the  sin,  which  he  ought  especially  to  regard,  as  calling  for 
such  a  testimony  of  the  divine  displeasure,  that  he  might  receive 
the  chastisement  with  entire  submission,  and  be  concerned  about 
nothing  but  his  duty  and  his  sin.  The  virtues  and  sins  of  others 
Jed  him  to  examine  himself,  whether  he  possessed  the  former,  and 
whether  he  did  not  practice  the  latter.  Thus  his  whole  life  was  a 
continued  course  of  self-examination ;  and  in  the  duty  of  secret 
fasting,  and  humiliation,  which  he  very  frequently  observed, — a 
duty  enjoined  by  Christ,  on  his  followers,  as  explicitly,  and  in  the 
same  terms,  as  the  duty  of  secret  prayer ;  enjoined  too,  for  the  very 
purpose  of  discovery,  confession,  and  purification, — he  w^as  accus- 
tomed, with  the  greatest  unreservedness  of  which  he  was  capable, 
to  declare  his  ways  to  God,  and '  to  lay  open  his  soul  before  him, 
all  his  sins,  temptations,  difficulties,  sorrows  and  fears,  as  well  as 
his  desires  and  hopes;  that  the  light  of  God's  countenance  might 
shine  upon  him  without  obstruction. 

The  fear  of  God  had  a  controlling  influence,  also,  in  regulating 
his  intercourse  wdth  mankind.  The  basis  of  that  intercourse,  in  all 
the  relations  of  life,  and  indeed  of  his  whole  character,  was  evan- 
gelical integrity, — a  settled  unbending  resolution  to  do  w^hat  he 
thought  right,  w^hatever  self-denial  or  sacrifices  it  might  cost  him. 
This  trait  of  character  he  early  discovered,  in  the  unfavourable  esti- 
mate, which  he  formed,  of  his  youthful  attainments  in  religion ;  and 
in  the  severe  judgment,  which  he  passed  upon  the  period  of  his  offi- 
cial connection  with  college,  as  a  period  of  marked  declension  in 
his  christian  life.  He  discovered  it,  during  that  connection,  in  his 
most  conscientious  and  honourable  efforts  to  promote  the  welfare  of 
that  institution,  under  uncommon  difficulties  and  trials.  He  disco- 
vered it  during  his  ministry  at  Northampton,  in  the  very  laborious 
performance  of  every  ministerial  duty,  and  in  his  firm  and  fearless 
defence  of  the  truth,  in  opposition  to  numbers^  power  and  influence. 
He  discovered  it  eminently  in  the  afiair  of  his  dismission.  His 
conscience  at  first  hesitated,  as  to  the  lawfulness  of  the  prevailing 
mode  of  admission  to  the  church.  Still,  he  regarded  the  question 
as  altogether  doubtful.  It  had  been  once  publicly  discussed  ;  his 
own  colleague  and  grandfather,  who. had  introduced  it  at  North- 
ampton, being  one  of  the  combatants ;  and  the  victory  had  been 
supposed  to  be  on  his  side,  and  in  favour  of  the  existing  mode. 
The  churches  of  the  county  had  adopted  it ;  and  the  whole  cur- 
rent of  public  opinion, — the  united  voice  of  weakh,  fashion,  num- 
bers, learning  and  influence, — was  in  its  favour.  If  he  decided 
against  continuing  the  practice,  all  these  would  certainly  be  com- 
bined against  him ;  his  people  would  demand  his  dismission,  before 
a  tribunal  which  had  prejudged  the  case  ;  his  only  means  of  sup- 
porting a  young  and  numerous  family  would  be  taken  away,  at  a 

Vol.  I.  75 


594  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

time  of  life,  when  an  adequate  provision  for  their  wants  would  pro*- 
bably  involve  him  in  extreme  embarrassment.  Yet  none  of  these 
things  moved  him ;  and  his  only  anxiety  was,  to  ascertain  and  to 
perform  his  duty.  He  discovered  it,  in  the  same  manner,  in  the 
controversy  at  Stockbridge.  There,  the  same  influence,  which,  in 
the  former  case,  had  effected  his  dismission,  he  knew  would  be 
combined  against  him,  with  increased  hostility,  and  in  all  probability 
would  deprive  his  family  a  second  time  of  their  support ;  unless  he 
sat  quietly  by,  and  saw  the  charities  of  christian  philanthropy  per- 
verted to  sources  of  private  emolument.  But  in  such  a  crisis  he 
could  not  deliberate  for  a  moment. 

"  He  had  a  strict  and  inviolable  regard  to  justice,  in  all  his  deal- 
ings with  his  neighbours,  and  was  very  careful  to  provide  things 
honest  in  the  sight  of  all  men ;  so  that  scarcely  a  man  had  any  deal- 
ings ^^^th  him,  who  was  not  conscious  of  his  uprightness. 

"  His  great  benevolence  to  mankind  discovered  itself,  among 
other  ways,  by  the  uncommon  regard  he  showed  to  liberality,  and 
charity  to  the  poor  and  distressed.  He  was  much  in  recommend- 
ing this,  both  in  his  public  discourses,  and  in  private  conversation. 
He  often  declared  it  to  be  his  opinion,  that  professed  christians  were 
greatly  deficient  in  this  duty,  and  much  more  so  than  in  most  other 
parts  of  external  Christianity.  He  often  observed  how  much  this 
is  spoken  of,  recommended  and  encouraged,  in  the  holy  Scriptures, 
especially  in  the  New  Testament.  And  it  was  his  opinion,  that 
every  particular  church  ought,  by  frequent  and  liberal  contributions, 
to  maintain  a  public  stock,  that  might  be  ready  for  the  poor  and 
necessitous  members  of  that  church  ;  and  that  the  principal  busi- 
ness of  deacons  is,  to  take  care  of  the  poor,  in  the  faithful  and  judi- 
cious improvement  and  distribution  of  the  church's  contributions, 
lodged  in  their  hands.  And  he  did  not  content  himself  with  merely 
recommending  charity  to  others,  but  practised  it  much  himself: 
though,  according  to  his  Master's  advice,  he  took  great  care  to  con- 
ceal his  acts  of  charity ;  by  which  means,  doubtless,  most  of  his 
alms-deeds  will  be  unknown  till  the  Resurrection,  but  which,  if 
known,  would  prove  him  to  have  been  as  honourable  an  example 
of  charity,  as  almost  any  that  can  be  produced.  This  is  not  mere 
conjecture,  but  is  evident  many  ways.  He  was  forward  to  give, 
on  all  public  occasions  of  charity ;  though,  when  it  could  properly 
be  done,  he  always  concealed  the  sum  given.  And  some  instances 
of  his  giving  more  privately  have  accidentally  come  to  the  know- 
ledge of  others,  in  which  his  liberality  appeared  in  a  very  extraor- 
dinary degree.  One  of  the  instances  was  this  :  upon  his  hearing 
that  a  poor  obscure  man,  whom  he  never  saw,  or  any  of  his  kind- 
red, was,  by  an  extraordinary  bodily  disorder,  brought  to  great 
straits;  he,  unasked,  gave  a  considerable  sum  to  a  friend,  to  be  de- 
livered to  the  distressed  person  ;  having  first  required  a  promise  of 
him,  that  he  w^ould  let  neither  the  person,  who  was  the  object  of  his 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  595 

charity,  i'lor  anyone  else,  know,  by  whom  it  was  given.  This  may 
serve  both  as  an  instance  of  his  extraordinary  charity,  and  of  his 
great  care  to  conceal  it."* 

Not  less  exemplary  was  his  practice  of  the  kindred  virtue  of  hos- 
pitality, so  much  enjoined  on  all  christians,  in  the  sacred  scriptures. 
As  his  acquaintance  was  veiy  extensive,  his  house  was  the  frequent 
resort  of  gentlemen  from  all  parts  of  the  colonies ;  and  the  friend, 
and  the  stranger  of  w^orth,  ever  found  a  kind  and  cordial  welcome 
at  his  table,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  family. 

"  He  was  thought  by  some  to  be  distant  and  unsociable^  in  his 
manners;  but  this  was  owing  to  the  want  of  a  better  acquaintance. 
He  was  not,  indeed,  a  man  of  many  words,  and  was  somewhat  re- 
served in  the  company  of  strangers,  and  of  those,  on  whose  can- 
dour and  friendship,  he  did  not  know  that  he   could  rely.     And 
this  was  probably  owing  to  two  causes.     First,  the  strict  guard  he 
set  over  his  tongue,  from  his  youth.     From  experience  and  obser- 
vation he  early  discovered,  that  the  sins  of  the  tongue,  make  up  a 
very  formidable  proportion  of  all  the  sins  committed  by  men,    and 
lead  to  a  very  large  proportion  of  their  remaining  sins.     He  there- 
fore resolved  to  take  the  utmost  care,  never  to  sin  ivith  his  tongue  ; 
to  avoid  not  only  uttering  reproaches  himself,  but  receiving  them, 
and  listening  to  them  from  others ;  to  say  nothing  for  the  sake  of 
giving  pain,  or  wounding  the  feelings  or  reputation  of  others  ;  to  say 
nothing  evil  concerning  them,  except  when  an  obvious  duty  required 
him  to  do  it,  and  then  to  speak,  as  if  nobody  had  been  as  vile  as 
himself,  and  as  if  he  had  committed  the  same  sins,  or  had  the  same 
infirmides  or   failings,   as  others ;  never  to  employ  himself  in  idle, 
trivial   and  impertinent   talk,   which  generally  makes  up  a  great 
part  of  the   conversation   of  those,  who   are  full  of  words,  in  all 
companies  ;    and  to  make  sure  of  that  mark  of  a  perfect    man, 
given  by  James,  "If  any  man  offend  not  in  word,  the  same  is  a 
perfect  man,   and  able,   also,  to  bridle  the  whole  body."     He  was 
sensible,  that  "  in  the  multitude  of  words,  there  wanteth  not  sin;" 
and    therefore    refrained    his    lips,    and    habituated    himself    to 
think   before    he    spoke,  'and  to    propose  some  good  end  in  all 
his    words;    which    led   him    conformably    to    an    apostolic  pre- 
cept,   to   be,    above    many  others,   slow   to   speak. — Secondly, 
this   was   in    part,    the    effect   of    his   bodily  constitution.      He 
possessed  but  a  comparatively  small  stock  of  animal  life  :  his  spirits 
were  low,  and  he  had  neither  the  vivacity  norslrenth  of  lungs  to 
spare,  that  would  have  been  requisite  in  order  to  render  him  what 
might  be   called  an  affable,   sprightly  companion,  in  all   circles. 
They,  who  have  a  great   flow  of  animal  spirits,  and  so  can  speak 


*"  As  both  the  jriver,  and  the  object  of  his  charity,  are  dead,  and  all  the 
ends  of  the  proposed  secrecy  are  answered;  it  is  tbouirht  not  inconsistent 
with  the  above  mentioned  promise,  to  make  known  the  fact,  as  it  is  here 
related." 


596  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

with  more  ease,  and  less  expense,  and  exhaustion,  than  others,  may 
doubdess,  lawfully  engage  in  free  conversation,  in  all  companies, 
for  a  lower  end  tlian  that  which  he  proposed  :  e.  g.  to  please,  or 
to  render  themselves  agreeable  to  others.  But  not  so  he,  who 
has  not  such  an  abundant  supply :  it  becomes  him  to  reserve  what 
he  has,  for  higher  and  more  important  service.  Besides,  the  want 
of  animal  spirit,  lays  a  man  under  a  natural  inability  of  ex- 
ercising that  freedom  of  conversation,  at  all  times,  and  in  what- 
ever company  he  is,  which  those  possessed  of  more  vivacity  na- 
turally and  easily  glide  into  ;  and  the  greatest  degree  of  humility 
and  benevolence,  of  good  sense  and  social  feeling,  will  not  remove 
this  obstacle. 

"He  was  not  forward  to  enter  into  any  dispute  before  strangers, 
and  in  companies,  where  there  might  be  persons  of  different  senti- 
ments ;  being  sensible  that  such  disputes  are  generally  unprofitable 
and  often  sinful,  and  of  bad  consequence.  He  thought  he  could 
dispute  to  the  best  advantage  with  his  pen  ;  yet  he  was  always  free 
to  give  his  sentiments,  on  any  subject  proposed  to  him,  and  to  re- 
move any  difficulties  or  objections  offered  by  w-ay  of  enquiry,  as 
lying  in  the  way  of  what  he  looked  upon  to  be  the  truth.  But  how 
groundless,  with  regard  to  him,  the  imputation  of  being  distant  and 
unsociable  was,  his  kno\Mi  and  tried  friends  best  knew.  They  al- 
ways found  him  easy  of  access,  kind  and  condescending ;  and 
though  not  talkative,  yet  affable  and  free.  Among  those,  whose 
candour  and  friendship  he  had  experienced,  he  threw  off  all  that, 
which  to  others,  had  the  appearance  of  reserve,  and  was  most  open 
and  communicative :  and  was  always  patient  of  contradiction,  while 
the  utmost  opposition  was  made  to  his  senfiments,  that  could  be 
made  by  any  arguments  or  objections,  whether  plausible  or  solid. 
And  indeed  he  was,  on  all  occasions,  quite  sociable  and  free,  with 
all  w^ho  had  any  special  business  with  him. 

"  His  conversation  with  his  friends  was  always  savoury  and  pro- 
fitable :  in  this  he  was  remarkable,  and  almost  singular.  He  was 
not  accustomed  to  spend  his  time  with  them  in  evil  speaking,  or 
foolish  jesting,  idle  chit-chat,  and  telling  stories ;  but  his  mouth 
was  that  of  the  just,  which  bringeth  forth  wisdom,  and  wiiose 
lips  dispense  knowledge.  His  tongue  was  as  the  pen  of  a  ready 
WTiter,  while  he  conversed  about  important  heavenly  and  divine 
things,  of  which  his  heart  w^as  so  full,  in  a  manner  so  new  and  ori- 
ginal, so  natural  and  familiar,  as  to  be  most  entertaining  and  in- 
structive, so  that  none  of  his  friends  could  enjoy  his  company 
without  instruction  and  profit,  unless  it  was  by  their  own  fault. 

"  He  was  cautious  in  choosing  his  intimate  friends,  and  there- 
fore had  not  many,  that  might  properly  be  called  such ;  but  to 
them  he  showed  himself  friendly  in  a  peculiar  manner.  He 
was,  indeed,  a  faithful  friend,  and  able  above  most  others  to 
keep  a  secret.      To  them  he  discovered  himself,  more  than  to 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  597 

Others,  and  led  them  into  his  views  and  ends  in  his  conduct  in  par- 
ticular instances  :  by  which  diey  had  abundant  evidence  that  he 
well  understood  human  nature,  and  that  his  general  reserved- 
ness,  and  many  particular  instances  of  his  conduct,  which  a  stran- 
ger might  impute  to  ignorance  of  men,  were  really  owing  to  his 
uncommon  knowledge  of  mankind. 

"In  his  family,  he  practiced  that  conscientious  exactness,  which 
was  conspicuous  in  all  his  ways.  He  maintained  a  great  esteem 
and  regard  for  his  amiable  and  excellent  consort.  Much  of  the 
tender  and  affectionate  was  expressed  in  his  conversation  with  her, 
and  in  all  his  conduct  towards  her.  He  was  often  visited  by  her,  in 
his  study,  and  conversed  freely  with  her  on  matters  of  religion ; 
and  he  used  commonly  to  pray  with  her  in  his  study,  at  least  once 
a  day,  unless  something  extraordinary  prevented.  The  season  for 
this,  commonly,  was  in  tlie  evening,  after  prayers  in  the  family,  just 
before  going  to  bed.  As  he  rose  very  early  himself,  he  was  wont 
to  have  his  family  up  betimes  in  the  morning ;  after  which,  before 
they  entered  on  the  business  of  the  day,  he  attended  on  family 
prayers ;  when  a  chapter  in  the  bible  was  read,  commonly  by  can- 
dle-light in  the  winter ;  upon  wdiich  he  asked  his  children  ques- 
tions, according  to  their  age  and  capacity;  and  took  occasion 
to  explain  some  passages  in  it,  or  enforce  any  duty  recommended, 
as  he  thought  most  proper. 

"  He  was  careful  and  thorough  in  the  government  of  his  chil- 
dren ;  and,  as  a  consequence  of  this,  they  reverenced,  esteemed 
and  loved,  him.  He  took  the  utmost  care  to  begin  his  govern- 
ment of  tliem,  when  they  were  very  young.  When  they  first 
discovered  any  degree  of  self-will  and  stubbornness,  he  would 
attend  to  them,  until  he  had  thoroughly  subdued  them,  and 
brought  them  to  submit.  Such  prudent  discipline,  exercised 
with  the  greatest  calmness,  being  repeated  once  or  twice,  wt.s 
generally  sufficient  for  that  child;  and  effectually  established  his 
parental  authority,  and  produced  a  cheerful  obedience  ever  after. 

*'  He  kept  a  watchful  eye  over  his  children,  that  he  might  admo- 
nish them  ofthe^r^^  WTong  step,  and  direct  them  in  the  right  way. 
He  took  opportunities  to  converse  with  them  singly,  and  closely, 
about  the  concerns  of  their  souls,  and  to  give  them  warnings,  ex- 
hortations and  directions,  as  he  saw  them  severally  need."  The 
salvation  of  his  children  was  his  chief  and  constant  desire,  and  aim> 
and  effort  concerning  them.  In  the  evening,  after  tea,  he  custom- 
arily sat  in  the  parlour,  with  his  family,  for  an  hour,  unbending  from 
the  severity  of  study,  entering  freely  into  the  feelings  and  concerns 
of  his  children,  and  relaxing  into  cheerful  and  animated  conversa- 
tion, accompanied  frequently  with  sprighdy  remarks,  and  sallies  of 
wit  and  humour.  But,  before  retiring  to  his  study,  he  usually  gave 
the. conversation,  by  degrees,  a  more  serious  turn,  addressing  his 
children,  with  great  tenderness  and  earnestness,  on  die  subject  of 


598  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

their  salvation ;  when  the  thought,  that  they  were  still  strangers  to 
religion,  would  often  affect  him  so  powerfully,  as  to  oblige  him  to 
withdraw,  in  order  to  conceal  his  emotions. — "  He  took  much 
pains  to  instruct  his  children,  in  the  principles  and  duties  of  religion, 
in  which  he  made  use  of  the  Assembly's  Shorter  Catechism :  not 
merely  by  taking  care,  that  they  learned  it  by  heart ;  but  by  lead- 
ing them  into  an  understanding  of  the  doctrines  therein  taught,  by 
asking  them  questions  on  each  answer,  and  explaining  it  to  them. 
His  usual  time  to  attend  to  this  was  on  the  evening  before  the  sab- 
bath. And,  as  he  believed  that  the  sabbath,  or  holy  time,  began  at 
sunset,  on  the  evening  preceding  tlie  first  day  of  the  week,  he  or- 
dered his  family  to  finish  all  their  secular  business  by  that  time,  or 
before ;  when  all  w^ere  called  together,  a  psalm  was  sung,  and 
prayer  offered,  as  an  introduction  to  the  sanctification  of  the  sab- 
bath. This  care  and  exactness  effectually  prevented  that  intruding 
on  holy  time,  by  attending  to  secular  business,  which  is  too  com- 
mon even  in  families,  where  the  evening  before  the  sabbath  is  pro- 
fessedly observed. 

"  He  was  utterly  opposed  to  every  thing  like  unseasonable  hours, 
on  the  part  of  young  people,  in  their  visiting  and  amusements;  which 
he  regarded  as  a  dangerous  step  towards  corrupting  them,  and 
bringing  tliem  to  ruin.  And  he  thought  the  excuse  offered  by  ma- 
ny parents,  for  tolerating  this  practice  in  their  children, — that  it  is 
the  custom,  and  that  the  children  of  other  people  are  allowed  thus  to 
practice,  and  therefore  it  is  difficult,  and  even  impossible,  to  restrain 
theirs, — was  insufficient  and  frivolous,  and  manifested  a  great  de- 
gree of  stupidity,  on  the  supposition  that  the  practice  was  hurtful 
and  pernicious  to  their  souls.  And  when  his  children  grew  up,  he 
found  no  difficulty  in  restraining  them  from  this  improper  and  mis- 
chievous practice ;  but  they  cheerfully  complied  with  the  will  of 
their  parents.  He  allowed  none  of  his  children  to  be  absent  from 
home,  after  nine  o'clock  at  night,  when  they  went  abroad  to  see  their 
friends  and  companions ;  neither  were  they  allowed  to  sit  up  much 
after  that  time,  in  his  own  house,  when  any  of  their  friends  came  to  visit 
them.  If  any  gentleman  desired  to  address  either  of  his  daughters, 
after  the  requisite  introduction  and  preliminaries,  he  was  allowed 
'  all  proper  opportunities  of  becoming  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
the  manners  and  disposition  of  the  young  lady,  but  must  not  in- 
trude on  the  customary  hours  of  rest  and  sleep,  nor  on  the  religion 
and  order  of  the  family." 

Perhaps  there  never  was  a  man  more  constantly  retired  from  the 
world,  giving  himself  to  reading  and  contemplation  ;  and  it  was  a 
wonder  that  his  feeble  frame  could  subsist,  under  such  fatigues, 
daily  repeated,  and  so  long  continued.  Yet,  upon  this  being  allu- 
ded to  by  one  of  his  friends,  only  a  few  months  before  his  death,  he 
said  to  him,  "  I  do  not  find,  but  that  I  now  am  as  well  able  to  bear  the 
closest  study,   as  I  was  thirty  years  ago ;  and  can  go  tlirough  ihe 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  599 

exercises  of  the  pulpit,  with  as  little  uneasiness  or  difficulty." — In 
his  youth,  he  appeared  healthy,  and  with  a  good  degree  of  vivacity, 
but  v/as  never  robust.    In  middle  life,  he  appeared  very  much  ema- 
ciated, by  severe  study,   and    intense  mental  application. — In  his 
person,  he  was  tall  of  stature,  and  of  a  slender  form.^     He  had  a 
high,  broad,  bold  forehead,  and  an  eye  unusually  piercing  and  lu- 
minous; and  on  his  whole  countenance,  the  features  of  his  mind — 
perspicacity,  sincerity  and  benevolence — were  so  strongly  impress- 
ed, that  no   one   could  behold  it,  without  at  once  discovering  the 
clearest  indications  of  great  intellectual  and  moral  elevation.     His 
manners  were  those   of  the  christian   gentleman  ^  easy,  tranquil, 
modest  and  dignified  ;  yet  they  were  the   manners  of  the  student, 
grave,  sedate  and  contemplative  ;  and  evinced  an  exact  sense  of 
propriety,  and   an  undeviating  attention  to  the  rules  of  decorum. 
*'  He  had,"  observes  one  of  his  cotemporaries,  '*  a  natural  steadi- 
ness of  temper,  and  fortitude  of  mind  ;  which,  being  sanctified  by 
the  Spirit  of  God,  was  ever  of  vast  advantage  to  him,  to  carry  him 
through  difficult  services,  and  to  support  him  under  trying  afflic- 
tions, in  the  course  of  his  life. — Personal  injuries,  he  bore  with  a 
becoming  meekness,  and  patience,  and  a  disposition  to  forgiveness." 
— According  to  Dr.  Hopkins,  himself  an  eye-witness,  these  traits  of 
character  were  eminently  discovered,  throughout  the  whole  of  his 
long-continued  trials  at  Northampton.     His  own  narrative  of  that 
transaction,  his  remarks  before  the  Council,  his  letters  relating  to  it, 
and  his  farewell  sermon,  all  written  in  the  midst  of  the  passing  oc- 
currences, bespeak  as  calm,  and  meek,  and   unperturbed  a  state  of 
mind,  as  they  would  have  done,  had  they  been  WTitten  by  a  third 
person,  long  after  the  events  took  place. — "  The  humility,  modesty 
and  serenity  of  his  behaviour,  much  endeared  him  to  his  acquain- 
tance, and  made  him  appear  amiable  in  the  eyes  of  such,  as  had  the 
privilege  of  conversing  with  him. — The  several  relations  sustained 
by  him,  he  adorned  with  exemplary  fidelity ;  and  was  solicitous  to 
fill   every  station  with  its  proper  duty. — In  his  private   walk  as  l 
christian,  he  appeared  an  example  of  truly  rational,  consistent,  uni- 
form religion  and  virtue  ;  a  shining  instance  of  the  power  and  effi- 
cacy of  that  holy  faith,  to  which  he  was  so  firmly  attached,  and  of 
which  he  was  so  zealous  a  defender.     He  exhibited  much  of  spiri- 
tuality, and  a  heavenly  bent  of  soul.     In  him,  one  saw  the  loveliest 
appearance — a  rare  assemblage  of  christian  graces,  united  with  the 
richest  gifts,  and  mutually  subserving  and  recommending  one  an- 
other." 

"He  had  an  uncommon  thirst  for  knowledge,  in  the  pursuit  of 
which  he  spared  no  cost  nor  pains.  He  read  all  the  books,  espe- 
cially books  treating  of  theology,  that  he  could  procure,  from  which 


*  His  height  was  about  sLx  feet  one  inch. 


CiOO  MFii    or    I^RESfDENT    F-UWAHDS. 

lie  could  hope  to  derive  any  assistance,  in  the  discovery  of  truth* 
And  in  this,  he  did  not  confine  himself  to  authors  of  any  particular 
sect  or  denomination  ;  but  even  took  much  pains  to  procure  the 
works  of  the  most  distinguished  writers,  who  advanced  views  of 
religion  or  morals,  most  contrary  to  his  own' principles  ;  particularly 
the  ablest  Arminian,  Socinian  and  Infidel,  writers.  But  he  studied 
the  Bible  more  than  all  other  books,  and  more  than  most  other  di- 
vines do."  He  studied  the  Bible,  to  receive  implicitly  what  it 
teaches  ;  but  he  read  other  books  to  examine  their  soundness,  and 
to  employ  them  as  helps  in  the  investigation  of  principles,  and  the 
discovery  of  truth.  His  uncommon  acquaintance  with  the  Bible, 
appears  in  his  Sermons,  in  his  Treatises, — particularly  in  the  treatises 
on  the  Affections,  on  the  History  of  Redemption,  on  United  and 
Extraordinary  Prayer,  on  the  Types  of  the  Messiah,  on  the  Quali- 
fications for  Communion,  and  on  God's  Last  End  in  the  Creation, 
— In  his  Notes  on  the  Scriptures,  and  in  his  Miscellaneous  Observa- 
tions and  Remarks.  Any  person  who  will  read  his  works  with 
close  attention,  and  then  will  compare  them  with  those  of  other 
theological  writers,  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  will  easily  be 
satisfied  that  no  other  divine  has  as  yet  appeared,  who  has  studied 
the  scriptures  more  thoroughly,  or  who  has  been  more  successful  in 
discovering  the  mind  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He  took  his  religious 
principles  from  the  Bible,  and  not  from  Treatises,  or  Systems  of 
theology,  or  any  work  of  man.  On  the  maturest  examination  of 
the  different  schemes  of  faith,  prevailing  in  the  world,  and  on  com- 
paring them  with  the  sacred  scriptures,  he  adhered  to  the  main  ar- 
ticles of  the  Reformed  Religion,  with  an  unshaken  firmness  and 
with  a  fervent  zeal,  yet  tempered  with  charity  and  candour,  and 
governed  by  discretion.  Few  men  are  less  under  the  bias  of  edu- 
cation, or  the  influence  of  bigotry:  few  receive  the  articles  of  their 
creed  so  little  upon  trust,  or  discover  so  much  liberality  or  tho- 
roughness in  examining  their  foundation.  His  principles  have  been 
extensively  styled  Calvinistic,  yet  they  differ  widely,  from  what 
has  usually  been  denominated  Calvinism^  in  various  important 
points;  particularly,  in  all  immediately  connected  with  Moral  Agen- 
cy; and  he  followed  implicitly,  if  any  man  ever  followed,  the  apos- 
tolic injunction,  to  call  no  man,  Father,  by  receiving  nothing  on 
human  authority,  and  examining  scrupulously  every  principle, 
wiiich  he  adopted.  He  thought,  and  investigated,  and  judged  for 
himself ;  and  from  the  strength  of  his  reasoning  powers,  as  well  as 
from  his  very  plan  of  study,  he  became  truly  an  original  waiter. 
As  we  have  already  sufficiently  seen,  reading  was  not  the  only,  nor 
the  chief,  method,  which  he  took,  of  improving  his  mind  ;  but  he 
devoted  the  strength  of  his  time  and  of  his  faculties  to  writing, 
without  which  no  student,  and,  be  it  remembered,  no  clergyman, 
can  make  improvements  to  the  best  advantage.  He  preached  ex- 
tensively on  subjects,  continued  through  a  series  of  discourses : — ma- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  UOl 

yf  his  Treatises  having  been  a  course  of  sermons  actually  delivered 
from  the  desk.  In  this  practice,  every  clergyman  who  has  a  mind  fit- 
ted for  investigation,  would  do  well  to  follow  him.  "  Agreeably  to  the 
11th  Resolution,  he  applied  himself,  with  all  his  might,  to  find  out 
Truth:  he  searched  for  it  as  for  silver,  and  digged  for  it  as  for 
hidden  treasures.  Every  thought,  on  any  subject,  which  appeared 
to  him  worth  pursuing  and  preserving,  he  pursued  as  far  as  he  then 
could,  widi  a  pen  in  his  hand.  Thus  he  was,  all  his  days,  like  tlie 
industrious  bee,  collecting  honey  from  every  opening  flower,  and 
storing  up  a  stock  of  knowledge,  which  was  indeed  sweet  to  him, 
as  honey  and  the  honey-comb." 

"As  a  scholar,  his  intellectual  furniture  exceeded  what  was  com- 
mon, under  the  disadvantages  experienced  at  that  time,  in  these 
remote  colonies.  He  had  an  extensive  acquaintance  with  the 
arts  and  sciences — with  classical  and  Hebrew  literature,  with 
physics,  mathematics,  history,  chronology,  ethics  and  mental  phi- 
losophy. By  the  blessing  of  God  on  his  indefatigable  labours,  to 
the  last,  he  was  constantly  treasuring  up  useful  knowledge,  both 
human  and  divine. 

"  Thus  he  appears  to  have  been  uncommonly  accomplished  for 
the  arduous  and  momentous  province  to  which  he  was  finally  called. 
And  had  his  precious  life  been  spared,  there  is  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve, that  he  would  have  graced  the  station  on  which  he  had  but 
entered,  and  proved  a  signal  blessing  to  the  College  of  New-Jer- 
sey, and  therein  extensively  served  his  generation  according  to  the 
will  of  God." 

His  inattention  to  his  style  is  certainly  to  be  regretted.  In 
earlier  Hfe,  he  appears  to  have  thought  neatness  and  correctness  in 
writing,  of  litde  consequence,^  and  to  have  sent  his  works  to  the 
press,  very  much  in  the  state  in  which  they  were  first  written. 
Let  it  here  be  remembered,  that  the  cultivation  of  style  was  not 
then  attended  to,  in  the  colonies ;  that  the  people  at  large  were 
accustomed  to  discourses,  written  in  the  plainest  manner  ;  and  that 
it  is  extremely  doubtful,  whether,  in  the  then  existing  state  of  the 
country,  it  would  have  been  possible  for  him,  to  have  devoted 
much  attention  to  the  style  of  his  sermons,  without  greatly  dimin- 
ishing their  amount  of  impression.  About  the  time  of  his  leaA'ing 
Northampton,  he  received  one  of  the  works  of  Richardson, f  which 
he  read  with  deep  interest,  and  regarded  as  wholly  favourable  to 
good  morals  and  purity  of  character.  The  perusal  of  it  led  him 
to  attempt  the  formation  of  a  more  correct  style,  his  previous  in- 
attention to  which,  he  then  deeply  regretted ;  and  in  this  atten-pt 
he  had  much  success.     The  style  of  the  Freedom  of  die  Will, 


*Sfee  Preface  to  Five  Sermons,  Vol.  V.  pp.  349,  350. 

fSiR  Charles  Grandison.     I  had  this  anecdote  through  his  oldest  Bonn 

VeL.  I.  76 


60:2  LIFE    OF     PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

though  obviously  that  of  a  student,  and  not  of  a  man  of  the  world, 
is  otherwise  as  correct,  as  that  of  most  of  the  metaphysical  trea- 
treaties,  to  be  found  in  the  language.  The  same  is  true,  generally, 
of  the  Treatise  on  Original  Sin  ;  although  it  was  in  the  press  when 
he  died,  and  never  received  his  last  corrections.*  In  the  two 
highest  excellencies  of  style,  perspicuity  and  precision,  he  was 
probably  never  excelled. 

Of  the  powers  of  his  mind,  enough,  perhaps,  has  been  said 
already.  They  were  certainly  very  varied,  and  fitted  him  for 
high  distinction,  in  any  of  tl^e  pursuits  of  learning  or  science. — 
His  memory  was  strong,  exact,  uniform  and  comprehensive. — 
His  imagination  was  rich  and  powerful.  I  know  that  the  contrary 
opmion  has  extensively  prevailed,  and  that  for  three  reasons. 
First,  he  paid  little  or  no  attention  to  his  style  of  wi-iting  ;  Secondly, 
he  never  cultivated  his  imagination,  and  never  indulged  it  but  spar- 
ingly, and  probably  in  no  instance,  for  mere  ornament.  Thirdly, 
his  great  works  are  treatises  on  metaphysical  subjects.  A  writer, 
without  imagination,  always  thinks  and  writes  in  a  dry  manner;  and, 
if  his  powers  are  great,  like  those  of  Aristotle,  he  writes  like  a 
pure  intelligence.  Those,  who  are  conversant  with  the  writings 
of  Edwards,  need  not  be  informed,  that  all  his  works,  even  the 
most  metaphysical,  are  rich  in  illustration,  or  that  his  sermons 
abound  with  imagery  of  every  kind,  adapted  to  make  a  powerful 
and  lasting  impression.  In  his  earlier  writings,  this  faculty  of  his 
mind  was  suffered  to  act  with  less  restraint.  The  first  production 
of  his  pen,  on  the  materiality  of  the  soul,  is  a  constant  play  of  im- 
agination and  wit.  The  boy,  who  could  speak  of  the  spiders  of 
the  forest,  as  "  those  wondrous  animals,  from  whose  glistening 
web,  so  much  of  the  wisdom  of  the  Creator  shines :" — who,  in 
describing  their  operations,  could  say,  "  I  have  seen  a  vast  multi- 
tude of  little  shining  webs,  and  ghstening  strings,  brightly  reflect- 
ing the  sun-beams,  and  some  of  them  of  great  length,  and  of 
such  a  height,  that  one  would  think  they  were  tacked  to  the  vault 
of  the  heavens,  and  would  be  burnt  like  tow  in  the  sun  :" — and 
who,  in  exposing  the  absurdity  of  the  supposition,  that  there  can 
be  absolutely  Nothing,  observes,  "  When  we  go  to  form  an  idea 
of  perfect  Nothing,  we  must  not  suffer  our  thoughts  to  take  sanctuar)^ 
in  a  mathematical  point,  but  we  must  think  of  the    same,  thai 


*The  Treatises  on  the  Aliections,  and  on  United  Extraordinary  Prayer, 
are  the  most  incorrect  of  all  his  works;,  published  by  himself.  In  his  ser- 
mons. p"b!ished  in  his  life  time,  r=omewhat  of  the  Umae  labor  is  discernible. 
The  works,  publish.^d  by  his  son.  Dr.  Edwards,  in  this  country,  are  but  little 
altered  from  the  rough  draught;  but  those  first  published  in  Edinburgh, 
are,  generally,  more  so.  The  History  of  Redemption,  was  considerably 
corrected  by  my  faUier,  and  afterwards  thrown  into  the  form  of  a  Treatise 
by  Dr.  Erskine.  The  sermons,  published  by  Dr.  Hopkins,  are  the  least 
correct  of  all  his  works. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  OOti 

the  sleeping  rocks  do  dream  off^ — possessed  an  imagination,  ai 
once  rich,  brilliant  and  creative. — His  taste,  if  we  do  not  refer  to 
style  of  writing,  but  merely  to  the  judgment  of  the  mind,  con- 
cerning ail  the  varieties  of  sublimity  and  beauty,  was  at  once  deli- 
cate and  correct. — Few  of  mankind,  hitherto,  have  possessed 
either  invention,  ratiocination  or  judgment,  in  so  high  a  degree ; 
and  it  is  difficult  to  say,  for  which  of  these  he  is  most  distinguished. 
In  comparing  him  with  the  metaphysicians  of  the  old  world,  we 
must  not  forget  his,  and  their,  respective  advantages  for  the  cul- 
ture of  the  mind.  He  was  born  in  an  obscure  village,  in  which 
the  ancient  reign  of  barbarism,  was  only  beginning  to  yield  to 
the  inroads  of  culture  and  civilization;  in  a  colony  comprizing 
but  here  and  there  a  settlement;  and  in  a  country,  literally  in 
its  infancy,  constituting,  with  the  exception  of  now  and  then  a 
white  plantation,  one  vast  continuous  forest,  and  distant  three 
thousand  miles,  from  Europe,  the  seat  of  arts,  refinement  and 
knowledge.  He  was  educated  at  a  seminary,  but  three  years  older 
than  himself;  which  had  as  yet  no  domicil,  and  which  furnished 
advantages  totally  inferior  to  those,  now  enjoyed  at  the  respecta- 
ble academies  of  New  England.  The  rest  of  his  hfe  was  passed 
amid  the  cares  of  a  most  laborious  profession,  and  on  the  very 
frontiers,  (and  the  latter  part  of  it  in  the  very  midst,)  of  savage  life; 
with  no  hbraries  to  explore,  and  vAxh.  no  men  of  eminence,  with 
whose  minds,  his  could  come  into  daily  contact.  His  greatest 
work  was  \M*itten  in  four  months  and  a  half  while  each  Sabbath 
he  delivered  two  sermons  to  his  English  flock,  and  two  others,  by 
interpreters,  to  two  distinct  auditories  of  Indians,  and  catechized 
the  children  of  both  tribes,  and  carried  on  all  the  correspondence 
of  the  mission,  and  was  forced  to  guard  against  the  measures  of  a 
powerful  combination,  busily  occupied  in  endeavouring  to  drive 
him  from  his  office,  and  thus  to  deprive  his  family  of  their  daily 
bread. — With  these  things  in  view,  instead  of  drawing  any  such 
comparison  myself,  I  will  refer  my  readers  to  the  opinion  of  a 
writer  of  no  light  authority  on  such  a  subject, — I  mean  Dugald 
Stewart  ; — who,  after  having  detailed  the  systems  of  Locke,  and 
Leibnitz,  and  Berkeley,  and  Condillac,  speaks  thus  of  the 
subject  of  this  memoir  :—"  There  is,  however,  one  Metaphysician, 
of  whom  America  has  to  boast,  w^ho,  in  logical  acuteness  and 
subtlety,  does  not  yield  to  any  disputant  bred  in  the  universities  of 
Europe.     I  need  not  say  that  I  allude  to  Jonathan  Edwards." 

Mr.  Edwards  acquired  a  very  high  character,  as  a  divine  and 
as  a  preacher,  during  his  life.  "  Among  the  luminaries  of  the 
church,  in  these  American  regions."  says  one  olhis  cotemporaries,* 


*I  suppose  the  writer   referred  to  here,  nnd  .n  various  nilior  places,  to  hr.vt 
oeen  Dr.  Fhilev. 


604  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

he  was  justly  reputed  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude :  thoroughly 
versed  in  ail  the  branches  of  theology,  didactic,  polemic,  casuistic, 
experimental  and  practical.  In  point  of  divine  knowledg;e  and  skill, 
he  had  few  equals,  and  perhaps  no  superior  :  at  least  in  those  for- 
eign parts." — "Mr.  Edwards,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins,  "had  the  most 
universal  character  of  a  good  preacher,  of  almost  any  minister  in 
Arnerica.  There  were  but  few  that  heard  him,  who  did  not  call 
him  a  good  preacher,  however  they  might  dislike  his  religious 
principles,  and  be  much  offended  at  the  same  truths  when  deliver- 
ed by  otliers  ;  and  most  people  admired  him,  above  all  the  preach- 
ers that  ever  they  heard."  His  character  as  a  laborious  and  faith- 
ful minister,  and  especially  as  a  powerful  and  successful  preacher, 
if  we  may  judge  from  the  history  of  his  life,  and  of  the  time  in 
which  he  lived,  was  such,  for  many  years  before  his  death,  as  to 
leave  him  here  without  a  competitor.'^  This  was  owing  chiefly  to 
his  preaching  and  pastoral  labours ;  for  most  of  liis  laboured  pro- 
ductions were  published,  either  a  little  before,  or  after,  his  death ; 
yet,  long  ere  this,  his  fame  as  a  preacher  and  minister  of  Christ, 
had  pervaded  the  colonies,  and  was  extensively  known  in  Great 
Britain.  Until  within  these  few  years,  there  were  many  living  wit- 
nesses, who  had  heard  him  in  their  youth,  and  who  distinctly  re- 
membered the  powerful  impresssions  left  on  their  minds  by  his 
preaching,  and  particularly  described  his  appearance  in  the  pulpit, 
the  still,  unmoved  solemnity  of  his  manner,  the  weight  of  his  sen- 
timents first  fixing  the  attention,  and  then  overwhelming  the  feelings, 
of  his  audience.  One  of  his  youthful  auditors,  afterwards  a  gen- 
tleman of  great  respectability,  informed  my  father,  that  he  was  pre- 
sent, when  he  delivered  the  sermon,  in  the  History  of  Redemption, 
in  which  he  describes  the  Day  of  Judirment ;  and  that  so  vivid  and 
solemn,  was  the  impression  made  on  his  own  muid,  that  he  fully 
supposed,  that,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Edwards  shoidd  close  his  discourse, 
the  Judge  would  descend,  and  the  final  separation  take  place. 
The  late  Dr.  West,  of  Stockbridge,  who  heard  him  in  his  child- 
hood, in  that  village,  gave  me  an  account  generally  similar,  of  the 
effects  of  his  preaching.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  sermon  ex- 
ceeded two  hours  in  its  length,  he  told  me  that,  from  the  time  that 
Mr.  Edwards  had  fairly  unfolded  liis  subje<.'t,  the  attention  of  the 
audience  was  fixed  and  motionless,  until  its  close  ;  when  they  seem- 
ed disappointed  that  it  should  terminate  so  soon.  There  w^as  such 
a  bearing  down  of  truth  upon  the  mind,  he  observed,  that  there 
was  no  resisting  it. — in  his  oun  congregation,  the  visible  effects  of 


*For  many  of  the  rrmrtrks  on  ^the  character  of  Mr.  Edwards,  as  a 
preacher  and  writer,!  am  mdebtod  to  a  weil  written  review  of  the  Worces^ 
ter  edition  of  his  works,  in  the  Christian  Spectator:  but  they  are  iisuall\ 
s!o  bler.d'id  with  my  own.  that  it  is  impossible  to  designate  the  passages. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  G05 

his  preaching  were  such,  as  were  never  paralleled  in  New  England. 
Often,  also,  he  was  invited  to  great  distances  to  preach  ;  and  these 
occasional  sermons  sometimes  produced  a  wonderful  effect.  One 
of  tlese  instances,  which  occured  at  Enfield,  at  a  time  of  e^reat 
religious  indifference  there,  is  thus  mendoned  by  the  Rev.  Dr. 
Trumbull.  "  When  they  went  into  the  meeting  house,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  assembly  was  thoughtless  and  vain.  I'he  people  hardly 
conducted  themselves  with  common  decency.  The  Rev.  Mr. 
Edwards,  of  Nordiampton,  preached ;  and  before  the  sermon  was 
ended,  the  assembly  appeared  deeply  impressed,  and  bowed  down 
with  an  awful  conviction  of  their  sin  and  danger.  There  was  such 
a  breathing  of  distress  and  weeping,  that  die  preacher  was  obliged 
to  speak  to  the  people  and  desire  silence,  that  he  might  be  heard." 
This  was  the  commencement  of  a  general  and  powerful  revival  of 
religion. 

To  what,  it  may  not  improperly  be  asked,  are  this  reputation  and 
this  success  to  be  ascribed.  It  v.as  not  to  his  style  of  writing:  that 
had  no  claims  to  elegance,  or  even  to  neatness. — It  was  not  to  his 
voice  :  that,  far  from  being  strong  and  full,  was,  in  consequence  of 
his  feeble  health,  a  little  languid,  and  too  low  for  a  large  assembly  ; 
though  relieved  and  aided  by  a  proper  emphasis,  just  cadence,  well 
placed  pauses,  and  great  clearness,  distinctness  and  precision  of 
enunciation. — It  was  not  owing  to  attitude  or  gesture,  to  his  ap- 
pearance in  the  pulpit,  or  to  any  of  the  customary  arts  of  eloquence. 
His  appearance  in  the  pulpit  was  with  a  good  grace,  and  his  delive- 
ry easy,  perfectly  natural,  and  very  solemn.  He  wrote  his  ser- 
mons ;  and  in  so  fine  and  so  illegible  a  hand,  that  they  could  be 
read  only  by  being  brought  near  to  the  eye.  "He  carried  his  notes 
with  him  into  the  desk,  and  read  most  that  he  UTOte  :  still,  he  was 
not  confined  to  them  ;  and,  if  some  thoughts  were  suggested  to  him 
while  he  was  preaching,  which  did  not  occur  to  him  when  writing, 
and  appeared  pertinent,  he  would  deliver  them  with  as  great  pro- 
priety and  fluency,  and  often  with  greater  pathos,  and  attended  with 
a  more  sensibly  good  effect  on  his  hearers,  than  what  he  had  writ- 
ten."*    While  preaching,   he  customarily  stood,  holding  his  small 


*"  Though,  as  has  been  obsorved,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  he  was  wont  to 
read  so  considerable  a  part  of  what  he  delivered,  yet  he  was  far  from  think- 
incf  this  the  best  v;ay  of  preaching  in  general:  and  lookrd  upon  using  his 
notes,  so  much  as  he  did,  a  deficiency  and  infirmity,  and  in  the  latter  part 
of  his  life,  he  was  inclined  to  think  ithad  been  better,  if  he  had  never  been 
ciccnstomed  to  use  his  notes  at  all.  It  appeared  to  him,  that  preacliing 
wholly  without  notes,  agreeably  to  the  custom  in  most  Protr-stant  coun- 
tries, and  in  what  seems  evidently  to  have  been  the  manner  of  the  Apostles 
and  primitive  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  was  by  tar  the  most  natural  way,  and 
had  the  greatest  tendency,  on  the  whole,  to  ansv/cr  the  end  of  preacliing  ; 
and  supposed  that  no  one,  who  had  talents,  equal  to  the  work  of  the  mm- 
istrv,  was  incapable  of  speaking  memoriter,  if  he  took  suitable  pains  for  this 


606  LIFE    GF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

manuscript  volume  in  his  left  hand,  the  elbow  resting  on  the  cush- 
ion or  the  Bible,  his  right  hand  rarely  raised  but  to  turn  the  leaves, 
and  his  person  almost  motionless. — It  was  not  owing  to  the  pictures 
of  fancy,  or  to  any  ostentation  of  learning,  or  of  talents.  In  his 
preaching,  usually,  all  was  plain,  familiar,  sententious  and  practical. 
One  ot  the  positive  causes  of  his  high  character,  and  great  suc- 
cess, as  a  preacher,  was  the  deep  and  pervading  solemnity  of  his 
ifl'i^d.  He  hnd,  at  all  times,  a  solemn  consciousness  of  the  pre- 
sence of  God.  This  was  visible  in  his  looks  and  general  demean- 
our. It  obviously  had  a  controlling  influence  over  all  his  prepara- 
tions for  the  desk  ;  and  was  most  manifest  in  all  his  public  services. 
Its  enect  on  an  audience  is  immediate,  and  not  to  be  resisted. 
"  tie  appeared,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  with  such  gravity  and  solem- 
ni) ,  and  his  v^oids  v/ere  so  full  of  ideas,  that  few  speakers  have 
been  able  to  command  the  attention  of  an  audience  as  he  did." — His 
knowledge  of  the  bibie,  evinced  in  his  sermons — in  the  number  of 
relevant  passages,  which  he  brings  to  enforce  every  position,  in  his 
exact  discernment  of  the  true  scope  of  each,  in  his  familiar  ac- 
quamtance  with  the  drift  of  the  whole  scriptures  on  the  subject,  and 
in  the  logical  precision  with  which  he  derives  his  principles  from 
them — is  probably  unrivalled. — His  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart,  and  its  operations,  has  scarcely  been  equalled  by  that  of  any 
uninspired  preacher.  He  derived  this  knowledge  from  his  famiha- 
rity  with  the  testimony  of  God  concerning  it,  in  the  Bible ;  from 
his  thorough  acquaintance  with  his  own  heart ;  and  from  his  pro- 
found knowledge  of  Mental  philosophy.  The  effect  of  it  was,  to 
enable  him  to  speak  to  the  consciousness  of  every  one  who  heard 
him ;  so  that  each  one  was  compelled  to  reflect,  in  language  Kke 
that  of  the  woman  of  Sychar,  "  Here  is  a  man,  who  is  revealing  to 
me  the  secrets  of  my  own  heart  and  life  :  Is  not  this  man  from 
God  ?" — His  knowledge  of  theology  was  so  exact  and  universal, 
and  the  extensiveness  of  his  views  and  of  his  information  was  so 
great,  that,  while  he  could  shed  unusual  variety  and  richness  of 
thought  over  every  discourse,  he  could  also  bring  the  most  striking 
and  impressive  truths,  facts  and  circumstances,  to  bear  upon  the 
point,  which  he  was  endeavouring  to  illustrate  or  enforce. — His 
aim,  in  preparing  and  delivering  his  sermons,  was  single.  This  is 
so  obvious,  that  no  man  probably  ever  suspected  him  of  writing  or 
delivering  a  sermon,  for  the  sake  of  display,  or  reputation.  From 
the  first  step  to  the  last,  he  aimed  at  nothing  but  the  salvation  of  his 


attainment  from  his  youth.  He  would  have  the  young  preacher  write  all 
his  sermons,  or  at  least  most  of  them,  out,  at  large ;  and,  instead  of  reading 
them  to  his  hearers,  take  pains  to  commit  them  to  memory :  which  though, 
it  would  require  a  great  deal  of  labour  at  first,  yet  would  soon  become 
easier  by  use,  and  help  him  to  speak  more  correctly  and  freely,  and  be  of 
great  service  to  him  all  his  days." 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWaRCS.  607 

hearers,  and  at  the  glory  of  God  as  revealed  in  it.     This  enabled 
him  to  bring  all  his  powers  of  mind  and  heart  to  bear  on  this  one 
object. — His  feelings  on  this  subject  were  most  intense.     The  love 
of  Christ  constrained  him  ;  and  the  strong  desire  of  his  soul  was. 
that  they  for  whom  Christ  died  might  live  for  Him  who  died  for 
them.     "  His  woids,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  often  discovered  a  great 
degree  of  inward  fervour,  without  much  noise  or  external    emo- 
tion, and  fell  with  great  weight  on  the  minds  of  his  hearers  ;  and  he 
spake  so  as  to  reveal  the  strong  emotions  of  his  own  heart,  which 
tended,  in  the  most  natural  and   effectual  manner,  to  move  and  af- 
fect others." — The  plan  of  his  sermons  is  most  excellent.     In  his 
introduction,  which  is  always  an  explanation  of  the  passage,  he  ex- 
hibits uncommon  skill,  and  the  sagacity,  with  which  he  discovers, 
and  the  power,  with  w^iich  he  seizes  at  once,  the  whole  drift  and 
meaning  of  the  passage  in  all  its  bearings,  has  rarely  if  ever  been 
equalled.      In  the  body  of  the  discourse,   he  never  attempts  an 
elaborate  proof  of  his  doctrine,   from  revelation  and  reason ;  but 
rather  gives  an  explanation  of  the  doctrine,  or  places  the  truth  on 
which  he  is  discoursing,  directly  before  the  mind,  as  a  fact,  and 
paints  it  to  the  imagination  of  his  hearers.    In  the  application,  where 
he  usually  lays  out  his  strength,  he  addresses  himself  with  peculiar 
plainness  to  the  consciences  of  his  hearers,  takes  up  and  applies  to 
them  minutely  all  the  important  ideas  contained  in  the  body  of  the 
discourse,  and  appropriates  them  to  persons  of  different  characters 
and  situations  in  Hfe,  by  a  particular  explanation  of  their  duties  and 
their  dangers  ;  and  lastly,  by  a  solemn,  earnest  and  impressive  ap- 
peal to  every  feeling  and  active  principle  of  our  nature.     He  coun- 
sels, exhorts,  warns,  expostulates,  as  if  he  were  determined  not  to 
suffer  his  hearers  to  depart,  until  they  were  convinced  of  their  duty, 
and  persuaded  to  choose  and  to  perform  it. — His  graphic  manner 
of  exhibiting  truth,  is,  perhaps,  his  peculiar  excellence.     The  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel,  in  his  hands,  are  not  mere  abstract  proposi- 
tions, but  living  realities,  distinctly  seen  by  the  author's  faith,  and 
painted  w^ith  so  much  truth,  and  life,  and  warmth  of  colouring,  as 
cannot  fail  to  give  his  hearers  the  same  strong  impression  of  them, 
which  already  exists  in  his  own  mind. — ^With  all  this,  he  preached 
the  real  truth  of  God,  in  its  simplicity  and  purity,  keeping  nothing 
back,  with  so  much  weight  of  thought  and  argument,    so  much 
strength  of  feeling,  and  such  sincerity  of  purpose,  as  must  enlighten 
every  understanding,  convince  every  conscience,  and  almost  con- 
vert every  heart. — I  enquired  of  Dr.  West,  Whether  Mr.  Edwards 
was  an  eloquent  preacher.     He  replied,   '*  If  you  mean,   by  elo- 
quence, what  is  usually  intended  by  it  in  our  cities ;  he  had  no  pre- 
tensions to  it.     He  had  no  studied  varieties  of  the  voice,  and  no 
strong  emphasis.     He  scarcely  gestured,  or  even  moved  ;  and  he 
made  no  attempt,  by  the  elegance  of  his  style,  or  the  beauty  of  his 
pictures,  to  gratify  die  taste,  and  fascinate  the  imagination.     But,  if 


608  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

3^ou  mean  by  eloquence,  the  power  of  presenting  an  important 
truth  before  an  audience,  with  overwhehuing  weight  of  argumenty 
and  with  such  intenseness  cf  feeling,  that  the  whole  soul  of  the 
speaker  is  thrown  into  every  part  of  the  conception  and  delivery ; 
so  that  the  solemn  attention  of  the  whole  audience  is  rivetted,  from 
the  beginning  to  the  close,  and  impressions  are  left  that  cannot  be 
effaced  ;, Mr.  Edwards  was  the  most  eloquent  man  1  ever  heard 
speak." — As  the  result  of  the  whole,  we  are  led  to  regard  him  as, 
beyond  most  others,  an  instructive  preacher,  a  solemn  and  faithful 
preacher,  an  animated  and  earnest  preacher,  a  most  powerful  and 
impressive  preacher,  in  the  sense  explained,  and  the  only  true 
sense,  a  singularly  eloquent  preacher,  and,  through  the  blessing  of 
God,  one  of  the  most  successful  preachers  since  the  days  of  the 
Apostles.  It  ought  here  to  be  added,  that  the  Sermons  of  Mr.  Ed- 
wards have  been,  to  his  immediate  pupils,  and  to  his  followers,  the 
models  of  a  style  of  preaching,  which  has  been  most  signally  bles- 
sed by  God  to  the  conversion  of  sinners,  and  which  should  be 
looked  to  as  a  standard,  by  those,  who  wish  like  him  to  turn  many 
to  righteousness,  that  with  him  they  may  shine,  as  the  stars,  forever 
and  ever. 

"  His  prayers,"  says  Dr.  Hopkins,  "  were  indeed  extempore. 
He  was  the  farthest  fi-om  any  appearance  of  a  form,  as  to  his  words 
and  manner  of  expression,  of  almost  any  man.  He  was  quite  sin- 
gular and  inimitable  in  this,  by  any,  who  have  not  a  spirit  of  real 
and  undissembled  devotion  ;  yet  he  always  expressed  himself  with 
decency  and  propriety.  He  appeared  to  have  much  of  the  grace 
and  spirit  of  prayer  ;  to  pray  with  the  spirit  and  with  the  under- 
standing ;  and  he  performed  this  part  of  duty  much  to  the  acceptance 
and  edification  of  those  who  joined  w\\h  him.  He  was  not  wont,  in 
ordinary  cases,  to  be  long  in  his  prayers :  an  error  which,  he  obser- 
ved, was  often  hurtful  to  public  and  social  prayer,  as  it  tends  rather 
to  damp,  than  to  promote,  true  devotion." 

His  practice,  not  to  visit  his  peo])le  in  their  own  houses,  except  in 
cases  of  sickness  or  affliction,  is  an  example,  not  of  course  to  be 
imitated  by  all.  That,  on  this  subject,  ministers  ought  to  consult 
their  own  talents  and  circumstances,  and  visit  more  or  less,  accord- 
ing to  the  degree  in  which  they  can  thereby  promote  the  great  ends 
of  their  ministry,  cannot  be  doubted.  That  his  time  was  too  pre- 
cious to  the  Church  at  large,  to  have  been  devoted,  in  any  conside- 
rable degree,  to  visiting,  all  will  admit.  Yet  it  is  highly  probable, 
that,  if  he  had  been  somewhat  less  in  his  study,  and  seen  his  people 
occasionally  in  the  midst  of  their  families,  and  known  more  of  their 
circumstances  and  wants,  and  entered  more  into  their  feelings ;  his 
hold  on  their  affections  would  have  been  stronger,  and  more  per- 
manent. Certainly  this  will  be  true  with  ministers  at  large. — In 
other  pastoral  duties,  in  preaching  public  and  private  lectures,  in 
extraordinary  labours  during  seasons  of  attention  to  religion,  and  m 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  60!) 

conversing  with  the  anxious  and  enquiring ;  he  was  an  uncommon 
example  of  faithfuhiess  and  success.  "  At  such  seasons,  his  study- 
was  thronged  with  persons,  who  came  to  lay  open  their  spiritual 
concerns  to  him,  and  seek  his  advice  and  direction.  He  was  a  pe- 
culiarly skillful  guide  to  those,  who  were  under  spiritual  difficulties  ; 
and  was  therefore  sought  unto,  not  only  by  his  own  people,  but  by 
many  at  a  great  distance."  For  this  duty,  he  was  eminently  fit- 
ted, from  his  own  deep  personal  experience  of  religion,  from  his 
unwearied  study  of  the  word  of  God,  from  his  having  had  so  much 
intercourse  with  those,  who  were  in  spiritual  troubles,  from  his  un- 
common acquaintance  with  the  human  heart,  with  the  nature  of 
conversion  and  with  revivals  of  religion,  and  from  his  skill  in  detect- 
ing, and  exposing,  every  thing  like  endiusiasra  and  counterfeit  reli- 
gion. How  great  a  blessing  was  it  to  a  church,  to  a  people,  and 
to  every  anxious  enquirer,  to  enjoy  the  counsels  and  the  prayers  of 
such  a  minister ! 

But  it  is  die  Theological  Treatises  of  Mr.  Edwards,  especially, 
by  which  he  is  most  extensively  known,  to  which  he  owes  his  com- 
manding influence,  and  on  which  his  highest  reputation  will  uld- 
raately  depend.  It  is  proper,  therefore,  before  we  conclude,  to 
sketch  his  character  as  a  theologian  and  controversialist,  and  to 
state  the  actual  effects  of  his  writings. 

As  a  theologian,  he  is  distinguished  for  his  scriptural  views  of 
divine  truth.  Even  the  casual  reader  of  his  works  can  scarcely 
fail  to  perceive  that,  with  great  labour,  patience  and  skill,  he  deri- 
ved his  principles  from  an  extensive  and  most  accurate  observadon 
of  the  word  of  God.  The  number  of  passages,  which  he  adduces 
from  the  scriptures,  on  every  important  doctrine,  the  critical  atten- 
tion he  has  evidendy  given  them,  the  labour  in  arranging  them,  and 
the  skill  and  integrity,  with  which  he  derives  his  general  conclusions 
from  them,  is  truly  astonishing.  We  see  no  intermixture  of  his 
own  hypotheses;  no  confidence  in  his  own  reason,  except  as  applied 
to  the  interpretadon  of  the  oracles  of  God  ;  nor  even  that  disposi- 
tion to  make  extended  and  momentous  inferences,  which  charac- 
terizes some  of  his  successors  and  admirers. 

Another  characteristic  of  his  theology,  is  the  ecctensiveness  of  his 
views.  In  his  theology,  as  in  his  mind,  there  was  nothing  narrow  ; 
no  partial,  contracted  views  of  a  subject :  all  was  simple,  great  and 
sublime.  His  mind  was  too  expanded,  to  regard  the  disdncdons 
of  sects  and  churches.  He  belonged,  in  his  feelings,  to  no  church, 
but  the  Church  of  Christ ;  he  contended  for  nodiing,  but  the  Truth  ; 
he  aimed  at  nothing,  but  to  promote  holiness  and  salvadon.  The 
effect  of  his  labours  so  exactly  coincides  with  the  effects  of  the 
gospel,  that  no  denominadon  can  ever  appropriate  his  name  to  itself, 
or  claim  him  as  its  own. 

Vol.  I.  77 


GIO  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

Viewing  Mr.  Edwards  as  a  controversialist,  the  most  excellent, 
if  not  the  most  striking,  trait  in  his  character,  is  his  integrity. 
Those,  who  have  been  most  opposed  to  his  conclusions,  and  have 
most  powerfully  felt  the  force  of  his  arguments,  have  acknowledged 
that  he  is  a  perfectly  fair  disputant.  He  saw  so  certainly  the  truth 
of  his  positions,  and  had  such  confidence  in  his  ability  to  defend 
them  by  fair  means,  that  the  thought  of  employing  sophistry  in 
their  defence  never  occurred  to  him.  But,  if  he  had  felt  the  want 
of  sound  arguments,  he  w^ould  not  have  employed  it.  His  con- 
science was  too  enlightened,  and  his  mind  too  sincere.  His  aim, 
in  all  his  investigations,  was  the  discovery  and  the  defence  of 
Truth.  He  valued  his  positions,  only  because  they  were  true ;  and 
he  gave  them  up  at  once,  when  he  found  that  they  were  not  sup- 
ported by  argument  and  evidence. 

Another  trait  in  his  character,  as  a  reasoner,  is  originality,  or 
invention.  Before  his  time,  the  theological  writers  of  each  given 
class  or  part}^,  had,  with  scarcely  an  exception,  followed  on,  one 
after  another,  in  the  same  beaten  padi  ;  and,  \yhenever  any  one 
had  deviated  from  it,  he  had  soon  lost  himself  in  the  mazes  of  er- 
ror. Mr.  Edwards  had  a  mind  too  creative,  to  be  thus  depend- 
ent on  others.  If  the  reader  will  examine  carefully  his  controver- 
sial and  other  theological  works,  and  compare  them  with  those  of  his 
predecessors  on  the  same  subjects  ;  he  will  find  that  his  positions  are 
new,  that  his  definitions  are  new,  that  his  plans  are  new,  that  his  argu- 
ments are  new,  that  his  conclusions  are  new,  that  his  mode  of  reasoning 
and  his  methods  of  discovering  truth  are  perfectly  his  own ;  and  that  he 
has  done  more  to  render  Theology  a  New  Science,  than,  with  per- 
haps one  or  two  exceptions,  all  the  writers,  who  have  lived,  since 
the  days  of  the  Fathers. 

Anodier  characteristic  of  his  controversial  writings  is  the  excel- 
lent spirit,  which  every  wiiere  pervades  them.  So  strikingly  is 
this  true,  that  we  cannot  but  urge  every  one,  who  peruses  them,  to 
examine  for  himself,  whether  he  can  discover,  in  them  all,  a  soli- 
tary deviation  from  christian  kindness  and  sincerity.  By  such  an 
exammation  he  vill  discover  in  them,  if  I  mistake  not,  a  fairness 
in  proposing  the  real  point  in  dispute,  a  candour  in  examining  the 
arguments  of  his  opponents,  in  stating  their  objections,  and  in 
suggesting  others  which  had  escaped  them,  and  a  care  in  avoiding 
every  thing  like  personality,  and  the  imputation  of  unworthy  mo- 
tives, rarely  paralleled  in  the  annals  of  controversy.  It  should 
here  be  remembered,  that  he  wrote  his  Treatise  on  the  Afiections, 
and  his  several  w^orks  on  Revivals  of  Religion,  in  the  very  heat  of 
a  violent  contest,  which  divided  and  agitated  this  whole  country  ; 
that  in  his  Treatises  on  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  on  Original  Sin, 
and  on  Justification,  he  handles  subjects,  which  unavoidably  awaken 
the  most  bitter  opposition  in  the  human  heart,  and  opposes  those, 
who  had  boasted  of  their  victories,  over  what  he  believed  to  be  the 


I.IFE    OV     PRESIDENT    ED)VARDS.  611 

cause  of  truth,  "with  no  little  glorying  and  insult;"  that  his  Trea- 
tise on  the  Qualifications  for  Communion,  was  written  amid  all  the 
violence,  and  ahuse,  and  injury  of  a  furious  parochial  controversy  ; 
and  that,  in  the  Answer  to  Williams,  he  was  called  to  reply  to  the 
most  gross  personalities,  and  to  the  most  palpable  misrepresenta- 
tions of  his  arguments,  his  principles  and  his  motives. 

He  has,  I  know,  been  charged  with  sometimes  handling  his  an- 
tagonists, with  needless  severity.  But  let  it  be  remembered,  that 
his  severity  is  never  directed  against  their  personal  character,  but 
merely  against  their  principles  and  arguments  ;  that  his  wit  is  only 
an  irresistible  exposition  of  the  absurdity  which  he  is  opposing  ;"^ 
that  he  stood  forth  as  the  champion  of  truth,  and  the  opponent  of 
error ;  and  that,  in  this  character,  it  was  his  duty  not  merely  to 
prostrate  error,  but  to  give  it  a  death  blow,  that  it  might  never  rise 
again. 

But  the  characteristic  of  his  controversial,  and  indeed  of  all  his 
theological,  writings,  which  gives  them  their  chief  value  and  effect, 
is  the  unanswerableness  of  his  arguments.  He  not  only  drives  his 
enemy  from  the  field,  but  he  erects  a  rampart,  so  strong  and  im- 
pregnable, that  no  one  afterwards  has  any  courage  to  assail  it;  and 
his  companions  in  arms  find  the  great  work  of  defending  the  positions, 
which  he  has  occupied,  already  done  to  their  hands. 

This  impossibility  of  answering  his  arguments,  arises,  in  the  first 
place,  from  the  strength  and  conclusiveness  of  his  reasoning.  By 
first  fixing  in  his  own  mind,  and  then  exactly  defining,  the  meaning 
of  his  terms,  by  stadng  his  propositions  with  logical  precision,  and 
by  clearly  discerning  and  stadng  the  connection  between  his  pre- 


*Few  men  have  possessed  a  greater  fund  of  g-enuine  wit,  than  Mr.  Ed- 
wards. In  early  life,  he  found  it  difficult  to  restrain  it.  Tlie  clear  reduc- 
tio  ad  absurdum^  to  which  he  subjects  every  scheme  and  argument  of  his 
antagonists,  in  the  Freedom  of  the  Will,  is  usually  a  brilliant  example  of 
true  logical  wit.  The  Answer  to  Williams  abounds  with  it.  I  doubt 
whether  the  annals  of  Metaphysics  can  show  a  finer  specimen  of  it,  than 
the  following;  which  is  the  conclusion  of  his  exposure  of  the  metaphysical 
notion  of  an  Action,  or  Ad.,  as  defined  by  Chubb,  and  his  associates ; 

"So  that,  according  to  their  notion  of  an  Act,  considered  with  regard  to 
its  consequences,  these  following  things  are  all  essential  to  it:  viz.  That 
it  should  he  necessary,  and  yet  not  necessary ;  that  it  should  be  from  a 
cause,  and  yet  from  no  cause ;  that  it  should  he  the  fruit  of  choice  and  de- 
sign, and  yet  not  the  fruit  of  choice  and  design;  that  it  should  be  the  he- 
ginning  of  motion  or  exertion,  and  yet  consequent  on  previous  exertion  ;  that 
it  should  6e,  before  it  is ;  that  it  should  spring  immediately  out  of  indiffer- 
ence and  equilibrium^  and  yet  be  the  effect  of  prepondercttion ;  that  it  should 
be  5e//'-originated,  and  also  have  its  original  from  something  else ;  that  it  is 
what  the  mind  causes  itself  of  \is  own  will,  and  can  produce  or  prevent  ac- 
cording to  its  choice  or  pleasure,  and  yet  what  the  mind  has  no  power  to 
prevent,  precluding  all  previous  choice  in  the  affair. 

"  So  that  an  Act,  according  to  their  metaphysical  notion  of  it,  is  some- 
thing of  which  there  is  no  idea;  it  is  nothing  but  a  confusion  of  the  mind, 


C12  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

mises  and  conclusions,  he  has  given  to  metaphysical  reasoning,  very 
much  of  the  exactness  and  certainty  of  mathematical  demonstra- 
tion. 

Another  cause  of  the  unanswerable  character  of  his  reasonings, 
is,  that  he  usually  follows  several  distinct  trains  of  argument,  which 
all  terminate  in  the  same  conclusion.  Each  of  them  is  satisfactory  ; 
but  the  union  of  all,  commencing  at  different  points,  and  arriving  at 
the  same  identical  result,  cannot  fail  to  convince  the  mind,  that  that 
result  is  not  to  be  shaken. 

A  third  cause  of  this  is,  that  he  himself  andcipates,  and  effectu- 
ally answers,  not  only  all  the  objections  that  have  been  made,  but 
all  that  apparently  can  be  made,  to  the  points  for  which  he  con- 
tends. These  he  places  in  the  strongest  light,  and  examines  under 
every  shape,  which  they  can  assume,  in  the  hands  of  an  evasive 
antagonist,  and  shows  that,  in  every  })ossible  form,  they  are  wholly 
inconclusive. 

A  fourth  cause  is  his  method  of  treating  the  opinions  of  his 
opponents.  It  is  the  identical  method  of  Euclid.  Assuming  them 
as  premises,  he  with  great  ingenuity  shows,  that  they  lead  to  palpa- 
ble absurdity.  He  demonstrates  that  his  opponents  are  inconsistent 
with  themselves,  as  well  as  with  truth  and  common  sense ; — and 
rarely  stops,  until  he  has  exposed  their  error  to  contempt  and  ridi- 
cule. 

This  unanswerableness  of  Mr.  Edwards'  reasonings,  in  his  con- 
troversial w^orks,  has  been  most  publicly  confessed.  The  Essay 
on  the  Will  treats  of  subjects  the  most  contested,  within  the  limits 
of  theology ;  and,  unless  it  can  be  answered,  prostrates  in  the  dust 
the  scheme  of  doctrines,  for  which  his  antagonists  so  earnestly  con- 


excited  by  words  without  any  distinct  meaning,  and  is  an  absolute  non-en- 
tity; and  that  in  two  respects:  1.  There  is  r,othing  in  the  world  that  ever 
was,  is,  or  can  be,  to  answer  the  ih'ings  which  must  belong  to  its  descrip- 
tion, according-  to  what  they  suppose  to  be  essential  to  it.  And,  2.  There 
neither  is,  nor  ever  was,  nor  can  be,  any  notion  or  idea  to  answer  the  word^ 
as  they  use  and  explain  it.  For  if  we  should  suppose  any  such  notion,  it 
would  many  ways  destroy  itself.  But  it  is  impossible  that  any  idea  or  notion 
should  subsist  in  the  mind,  whose  very  nature  and  essence,  which  constitutes 
it,  destroys  it. — If  some  learned  philosopher,  who  has  been  abroad,  in  giv- 
ing an  account  of  the  curious  observations  he  had  made  in  his  travels, 
should  say,  '•'•  He  had  been  in  Terra  del  Fuego^  and  there  had  seen  an  ani- 
mal.jwhich  he  calls  by  a  certain  name,  that  begat  and  brought  forth  himself, 
and  yet  had  asire  and  dam  distinct  from  himself;  that  he  had  an  appetite,  and 
was  hungry  before  he  had  a  being;  that  his  master,  who  led  him.  and  go- 
verned him  at  his  pleasure,  was  always  governed  by  him,  and  driven  by  him 
where  he  pleased  ;  that  when  he  moved,  he  always  took  a  step  before  the 
first  step;  that  he  went  with  his  head  first,  and  yet  always  went  tail  fore- 
most ;  and  this,  though  he  had  neither  head  nor  tail :"  it  would  be  no  im- 
pudence at  all,  to  tell  such  a  traveller,  though  a  man  of  profound  learning, 
that  he  himself  had  no  idea  of  such  an  animal  as  he  gave  an  account  of,  and 
never  had,  nor  ever  would  have." 


LIFE    OV    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  Gl3 

lend.  Yet  hitherto,  it  stands  unmove,d  and  unassailed ;  and  the 
waves  of  controversy  break  harmless  at  its  base.*  The  Treatise 
on  Original  Sin,  though  written  chiefly  to  overthrow  the  hypothesis 
of  an  individual,  is  perhaps  not  less  conclusive  in  its  reasonings. 
That  he  succeeded  in  that  design,  as  well  as  in  establishing  the 
great  principles  for  which  he  contends,  will  not  be  doubted  by  any 
one  who  examines  the  controversy ;  and  is  said  to  have  been  vir- 
tually confessed,  in  a  melancholy  manner,  by  Taylor  himself.  He 
had  indiscreetly  boasted,  in  his  larger  work,  that  it  never  would  be 
answered.  'The  answer  was  so  complete,  that  it  admitted  of  no 
reply.  His  consequent  mortification  is  said  to  have  shortened  his 
days.  Whether  it  was  true,  or  not,  that  the  grasp  of  his  antagonist 
was  literally  death ;  it  was  at  least  death  to  the  controversy.  The 
Treatise  on  the  Qualifications  for  Communion,  attacked  the  most 
favourite  scheme  of  all  the  lax  religionists  of  this  country,  the  only 
plausible  scheme,  ever  yet  devised,  of  establishing  a  communion 
between  light  and  darkness,  between  Christ  and  Belial.  They  re- 
garded this  attack  with  indignation,  from  one  end  of  the  country  to 
the  other.  One  solitary  combatant  appeared  in  the  field  ;  and, 
being  left  in  a  state  of  irrecoverable  prostration,  he  has  hitherto 
found  no  one  adventurous  enough  to  come  to  his  aid.  The  Trea- 
tise, and  Reply,  of  Mr.  Edwards,  by  the  conclusiveness  of  their 
reasonings,  have  so  changed  the  opinion  and  practice  of  the  clergy, 
and  the  churches,  of  ?sew  England,  that  a  mode  of  admission, 
once  almost  universal,  now  scarcely  finds  a  soUtary  advocate. 

But  it  may  not  unnaturally  be  asked,  What  are  the  Changes  in 
Theology,  which  have  been  effected  by  the  writings  of  President 
Edwards.  It  gives  me  peculiar  pleasure  that  I  can  answer  this 
question,  in  the  words  of  his  son,  the  late  Dr.  Edwards,  President 
of  Union  College,  Schenectady. 

"IMPROVEMENTS  IN  THEOLOGY, 

"  MADE  BY  PRESIDENT  EDWARDS,  AND  THOSE  WHO  HAVE  FOLLOW- 
ED   HIS    COURSE    OF    THOUGHT. 

"1.  The  important  question,  concerning  the  Ultimate  End  of  the 
Creation^  is  a  question,  upon  which  Mr.  Edwards  has  shed  much 
light.  For  ages,  it  had  been  disputed,  whether  the  end  of  crea- 
tion was  the  happiness  of  creatures  themselves,  or  the  declarative 
glory  of  the  Creator.  ■  Nor  did  it  appear  that  the  dispute  was  likely 
to  be  brought  to  an  issue.  On  the  one  hand,  it  was  urged,  that 
reason  declared  in  favour  of  the  former  hypothesis.  It  was  said 
that,  as  God  is  a    benevolent  being,  he  doubtless    acted   under 


*Dugald  Stewart,  alluding  to  it  in  conversation,  is  said,  on  good  authori- 
ty, to  have  spoken  of  it  thus : — '"•  Edwards  on  the  Will,  a  work  which  never 
was  answered,  and  which  never  will  be  answered." 


to 


614  LIFE    OF    PRESTDEP^T    EDWARDS. 

the  influence  of  his  own  infinite  benevolence  in  the  creation  ;  and 
that  he  could  not  but  form  creatures  for  the  purpose  of  making 
them  happy.  Many  passages  of  scripture  also  were  quoted  in  sup- 
port of  this  opinion.  On  the  other  hand,  numerous  and  very  ex- 
plicit declarations  of  Scripture  were  produced  to  prove  that  God 
made  all  things  for  his  own  glory.  IMr.  Edwards  was  the  first, 
who  clearly  showed,  that  both  these  were  the  ultimate  end  of  the 
creation,  that  they  are  only  one  end,  and  that  they  are  really  one 
and  the  same  thing.  According  to  him,  the  declarative  glory  of  God 
is  the  Creation,  taken,  not  distributively,  but  collectively,  as  a  sys- 
tem raised  to  a  high  degree  of  happiness.  The  Creation,  thus 
raised  and  preserved,  is  the  Declarative  Glory  of  God.  In  other 
words,  it  is  the  exhibition  of  his  Essential  Glory. 

"  2.  On  the  great  subject  of  Liberty  and  JYecessity,  Mr.  Edwards 
made  very  important  improvements.  Before  him,  the  Calvinists, 
were  nearly  driven  out  ot  the  field,  by  the  Arminians,  Pelagians, 
and  Socinians.  The  Cahinists,  it  is  true,  appealed  to  Scripture, 
the  best  of  all  authority,  in  support  of  their  peculiar  tenets.  But 
how  was  the  Scripture  to  be  understood  ?  They  were  pressed  and 
embarrassed  by  the  objection, — That  the  sense,  in  which  they  inter- 
preted the  sacj'ed  writings,  was  inconsistent  with  human  libertyy 
moral  agency,  account ahleness,  praise  and  hlame.  It  was  conse- 
quently inconsistent  with  all  command  and  exhortation,  with  all 
reward  and  punishment.  Their  interpretation  must  of  course  be 
erroneous,  and  an  entire  perversion  of  Scripture.  How  absurd,  it 
was  urged,  that  a  man,  totally  dead,  should  be  called  upon  to  arise 
and  perform  the  duties  of  the  living  and  sound — that  we  should 
need  a  divine  influence  to  give  us  a  new  heart,  and  yet  be  com- 
manded to  make  us  a  new  heart  and  a  right  spirit — that  a  man  has 
no  power  to  come  to  Christ,  and  yet  be  commanded  to  come  to 
him  on  pain  of  damnation  !  The  Calvinists  themselves  began  to 
be  ashamed  of  their  own  cause  and  to  give  it  up,  so  far  at  least  as 
relates  to  Liberty  and  Necessity.  This  was  ti'ue  especially  of  Dr. 
Watts  and  Dr.  Doddridge,  who,  in  their  day,  were  accounted 
leaders  of  the  Calvinists.  They  must  needs  bow  in  the  house  of 
Rimmon,  and  admit  the  Self-determining  Power  ;  which,  once  ad- 
mitted and  pursued  to  its  ultimate  results,  entirely  overthrows  the 
doctrines  of  Regeneration,  of  our  Dependence  for  renewing  and 
sanctifying  grace,  of  Absolute  Decrees,  of  the  Saints'  Perseverance, 
and  the  whole  system  of  doctrines,  usually  denominated  the  Doc- 
trines of  Grace. — But  iMr.  Edwards  put  an  end  to  this  seeming 
triumph  of  those,  who  were  thus  hostile  to  that  system  of  doctrines. 
This  he  accomphshed,  by  pointing  out  the  diflerence  between  JN'a^ 
ural  and  Moral,  Necessity  and  Inability,  by  showing  the  absurdity, 
the  manifold'contradictions,  the  inconceivableness,  and  the  impossi- 
bility, of  a  Self-determining  Power,  and  by  proving  that  the  essence 


LIFK    OF    PRESIDENT    El) WARDS.  01i> 

of  the  Virtue  and  Vice,  existing  in  the  disposition  of  the  heart  and 
the   acts  of  the   will,  lies  not  in   their  cause,  but  in   their  nature. 
Therefore,  though  we  are  7iot  the  efficient  causes  of  our  own  acts 
of  will,  yet  they  may  be   either  virtuous  or  vicious ;  and  also  that 
Liberty  of  Contingence,  as  it  is  an  exemption  from  all  previous  cer- 
tainty, implies  that  free  actions  have  no  cause,  and  come  into  exis- 
tence by  mere  chance.     But  if  we  admit  that  any  event  may  come 
into  existence  by  chance,  and  without  a  cause,  the  existence  of  the 
World  may  be  accounted  for    in  this  same  way ;  and  Atheism  is 
established. — Mr.  Edwards  and  his  followers,  have  further  illustra- 
ted this  subject  by  showing,  that /ree  action  consists  in  volition  itself, 
and  that  liberty  consists  in  spontaneity.     Wherever,  therefore,  there 
is  volition,  there  is  free  action;  wherever  there  is  spontaneity  there 
is  liberty  ;  however,  and  by  w^homsoever  that  liberty  and  spontaneity 
are  caused.     Beasts,  therefore,  according  to  their  measure  of  intel- 
ligence, are  as  free  as  J\Ien.    Intelligence,  therefore,  and  not  liberty, 
is  the  only  thing  wanting,  to  constitute  them  moral   agents. — The 
power  of  self-determination,  alone,  cannot  answer  the  purpose  of 
them  who  undertake  its  defence ;  for  self-determination  must  be 
free  from  all   control  and  previous  certainty,  as   to  its  operations, 
otherwise  it  must  be  subject  to  what  its  advocates  denominate  a  fa- 
tal necessity,  and  therefore  must  act   by  contingence   and  mere 
chance.     But  even  the  defenders  of  self-determination  themselves, 
are  not  willing  to  allow  the  principle,  that  our  actions,  in  order  to  be 
free,  must  happen  by  chance. — Thus  Mr.  Edwards  and  his  follow- 
ers understand,  that  the  whole  controversy  concerning  hberty  and 
necessity,   depends  on  the  explanation  of  the  word  liberty,  or  the 
sense  in  which  that  word  is  used.     They  find  that  all  the  senses  in 
which  the  word  has  been  used,  with  respect  to    the  mind   and  its 
acts,  may  be  reduced  to  these  two  :   1 .  Either  an  entire  exemption 
from  previous  certainty,  or  the  certain  futurity  of  the  acts  which  it 
will  perform:  or 2.  Spontaneity. — Those,  who  use  it  in  the  former 
sense,  cannot  avoid  the  consequence,  that,  in  order  to  act  freely, 
we   must  act  by  chance,  which  is   absurd,  and  what  no  man  will 
dare  to  avow.     If  then  Liberty  means  an  exemption  from  an  influ- 
ence, to  which  the  will  is,  or  can  be  opposed,  every  volition  is  free, 
whatever  may  be  the  manner  of  its  coming  into  existence.       If, 
furthermore,   God,  by  his   grace,  create  in  man  a  clean  heart  and 
holy  volitions,  such  volitions  being,  by  the  very  signification  of  the 
term  itself,  voluntary,  and  in  no  sense  opposed  to  the  divine  influ- 
ence which  causes  them,  they  are  evidently  as  free  as  they  could 
have  been,  if  they  had  come  into  existence  by  mere  chance  and 
without  cause.     We  have,  of  course,  no  need  of  being  the  efficient 
causes  of  those  acts,  which  our  wills  perform, to  render  them  either 
virtuous  or  vicious.     As  to  the  liberty,  dien,  of  self-determination  or 
contingence,  it  implies,  as  already  observed,  that  actions,  in  order 
to  be  free,  must  have  no  cause ;  but  are  brought  into  existence  by 


616  LIl'K    OF    PlliLSIDENT    EDWARDS. 

chance.  Thus  have  they  illustrated  the  real  and  wide  difference 
between  JVatural,  and  Moral,  Necessity.  They  have  proved  that 
this  difference  consists,  not  in  the  degree  of  previous  certainty  that 
an  action  will  be  performed — but  in  the  fact,  that  natural  necessity 
admits  an  entire  opposition  of  the  will,  while  moral  necessity  im- 
plies, and,  in  all  cases,  secures,  the  consent  of  the  will.  It  follows 
that  all  necessity  of  the  will,  and  of  its  acts,  is  of  the  moral  kind  ; 
and  that  natural  necessity  cannot  possibly  affect  the  will  or  any 
of  its  exercises.  It  likewise  follows,  that  if  liberty,  as  applied  to  a 
moral  agent,  mean  an  exemption  from  all  previous  certainty  that 
an  action  will  be  performed,  then  no  action  of  man  or  any  other 
creature  can  be  free  ;  for  on  this  supposition,  every  action  must 
come  to  pass  without  divine  prescience,  by  mere  chance,  and  con- 
sequently without  a  cause. — Now^,  therefore,  the  Calvinists  find 
themselves  placed  upon  firm  and  high  ground.  They  fear  not  the 
attacks  of  their  opponents.  They  face  them  on  the  ground  of  rea- 
son, as  w^ell  as  of  Scripture.  They  act  not  merely  on  the  defen- 
sive. Rather  they  have  carried  the  war  into  Italy,  and  to  the  very 
gates  of  Rome. — But  all  this  is  peculiar  to  America;  except  that  a 
few  European  writers  have  adopted,  from  American  authors,  the 
sentiments  here  stated.  Even  the  famous  Assembly  of  divines  had 
very  imperfect  views  of  this  subject.  This  they  prove,  when  they 
say,  "Our  first  parents,  being  left  to  the  freedom  of  their  own  will, 
fell  from  the  state  wherein  they  were  created ;" — and  "  God  fore- 
ordained whatsoever  comes  to  pass,  so  as  the  contingency  of 
second  causes  is  not  taken  away,  but  rather  established." — These 
divines  unquestionably  meant,  that  our  first  parents,  in  the  instance, 
at  least,  of  their  fall,  acted  from  self-determination,  and  by  mere 
contingence  or  chance.  But  there  is  no  more  reason  to  believe  or 
even  suppose  this,  than  there  is  to  suppose  it  true  of  every  sinner,  in 
•every  sin  which  he  commits. 

"  3.  Mr.  Edwards  very  happily  illustrated  and  explained  The 
JVature  of  True  Virtue,  or  Holiness. — What  is  the  Nature  of 
True  Virtue,  or  Holiness ; — In  what  does  it  consist ; — and.  Whence 
arises  our  obligation  to  be  truly  virtuous  or  holy ; — are  questions 
Vv'hich  moral  writers  have  agitated  in  all  past  ages.  Some  have 
placed  virtue  in  Self-love  ; — some  in  acting  agreeahly  to  the  Fit- 
ness of  things  ; — some  in  following  Conscience,  or  Moral  Sense  ; 
— some  in  following  Truth  ; — and  some  in  acting  agreeahly  to  the 
Will  of  God.  Those,  who  place  or  found  virtue  in  Fitness,  and 
those,  who  found  it  in  I'ruth,  do  but  use  one  synonymous  word  for 
another.  For  they  doubtless  mean  moral  fitness,  and  moral 
truth ;  these  are  no  odier  than  virtuous  fitness,  and  virtuous 
truth.  No  one  would  pretend  that  it  is  a  virtuous  action  to  give  a 
man  poison,  because  it  is  a  fit  or  direct  mode  oi  destroying  his  life. 
No  person  will  pretend  that  the  crucifying  of  Christ  was  virtuous,  be- 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  G17 

oause  it  was  true,  compared  with  the  ancient  prophecies. — To 
found  virtue  in  acting  agreeably  to  Conscience,  or  Moral  Sense, 
justifies  the  persecutions  of  christians  by  Saul  of  Tarsus,  as  well  as 
a  great  proportion  of  heathenish  idolatry, — If  we  found  virtue  in 
the  Will  of  God,  the  question  arises,  Whether  the  will  of  God  be 
our  rule,  because  it  is  in  fact  what  it  is,  wise,  good  and  benevolent; 
or  whether  it  b^  our  rule,  merely  because  it  is  his  will,  without  any 
consideration  of  its  nature  and  tendency  :  and  whether  it  would  be 
a  rule  equally  binding,  as  to  observance,  if  it  were  foolish  and  ma- 
licious.— Mr.  Edwards  teaches,  that  virtue  consists  in  Benevolence, 
He  proves  that  every  voluntary  action,  which,  in  its  general  ten- 
dency and  ultimate  consequence,  leads  to  happiness,  is  virtuous ; 
and  that  every  such  action,  which  has  not  this  tendency,  and  does 
not  lead  to  this  consequence,  is  vicious.  By  happiness,  in  this 
case,  he  does  not  mean  the  happiness  of  ^^e  agent  only,  or  princi- 
pally, but  happiness  in  general,  happiness  on  the  large  scale.  Vir- 
tuous or  holy  benevolence  embraces  both  the  agent  himself  and 
©thers — all  intelligences,  wherever  found,  who  are  capable  of  a 
rational  and  moral  blessedness.  All  actions,  proceeding  from  such 
a  principle,  he  holds  to  he  jit,  or  agreeable  to  the  fitness  of  things — 
agreeable  equally  to  reason,  and,  to  a  well-informed  conscience,  or 
moral  sense,  and  to  moral  truth; — and  agreeable  especially  to  the 
will  of  God,  who  "is  Love,"  or  Benevolence. — In  this  scheme  of 
virtue  or  holiness,  Mr.  Edwards  appears  to  have  been  original. 
Much  indeed  had  been  said,  by  most  moral  writers,  in  favour  of 
benevolence.  Many  things  they  had  published,  which  imply,  in 
their  consequences,  Mr.  Edwards'  scheme  of  virtue.  But  no  one 
before  him  had  traced  these  consequences  to  their  proper  issue. 
No  one  had  formed  a  system  of  virtue,  and  of  morals,  built  on  that 
foundation. 

"  4.  Mr.  Edwards  has  thrown  much  light  on  the  enquiry  concern- 
ing The  Origin  of  Moral  Evil,  This  question,  comprehending 
the  influence,  which  the  Deity  had  in  the  event  of  moral  evil,  has 
always  been  esteemed  most  difficult  and  intricate.  That  God  is 
the  author  of  sin,  has  been  constantly  objected  to  the  Cahanists, 
as  the  consequence  of  their  principles,  by  their  opponents.  To 
avoid  this  objection,  some  have  holden  that  God  is  die  author  of 
the  sinful  act,  which  the  sinner  commits,  but  .that  the  sinner  himself 
is  the  author  of  its  sinfulness.  But  how  we  shall  abstract  the  sin- 
fulness of  a  malicious  act  from  the  malicious  act  itself;  and  how 
God  can  be  the  author  of  a  malicious  act,  and  not  be  the  author  of 
the  malice,  which  is  the  sinfulness  of  that  act;  is  hard  to  be  conceiv- 
ed. Mr.  Edwards  rejects,  with  abhorrence,  the  idea  that  God 
either  is,  or  can  be,  the  agent,  or  actor,  of  sin.  He  illustrates  and 
explains  this  difficult  subject,  by  showing  that  God  may  dispose 
things  in  such  a  manner,  that  sin  will  certain! v  take  place  in  coiT^je- 

Vol.  I.  ■  78  ' 


<51S  LIFE    OF    PRESIUENT    EDWARDS. 

quence  of  such  a  disposal.  In  maintaining  this,  he  only  adheres  to 
his  own  important  doctrine  of  moral  necessity.  The  divine  dispo- 
sal, by  which  sin  certainly  comes  into  existence,  is  only  establishing 
a  certainty  of  its  future  existence.  If  that  certainty,  which  is  no 
other  than  moral  necessity,  be  not  inconsistent  with  human  liberty  ; 
then  surely  the  cause  of  that  certainty,  which  is  no  other  than  the 
divine  disposal,  cannot  be  inconsistent  with  such  liberty. 

"5.  The  followers  of  I\Ir.  Edwards  have  thrown  new  and  im- 
portant light  upon  The  Doctrine  of  Atonement.  It  has  been  com- 
monly represented,  thnt  the  atonement  which  Christ  made  was  the 
payment  of  a  debt,  due  from  his  people.  By  this  payment,  they 
were  purchased  from  slavery  and  condemnation.  Hence  arose 
this  question, — -If  the  sinner's  debt  be  paid,  how  does  it  appear  that 
there  is  any  pardon  or  grace  in  his  deliverance  ? — The  followers  of 
?vlr.  Edwards  have  proved,  that  the  atonement  does  not  consist  in 
the  payment  of  a  debt,  properly  so  called.  It  consists  rather  in 
doing  that,  which,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  the  authority  of 
the  divine  law,  and  of  supporting  in  due  tone  the  divine  govern- 
ment, is  equivalent  to  the  punishment  of  the  sinner  according  to 
the  letter  of  the  law.  Now,  therefore,  God,  without  the  prostra- 
tion of  his  authority  and  government,  can  pardon  and  save  those 
who  believe.  As  what  was  done  to  support  the  divine  government, 
vv^as  not  done  hy  the  sinner,  so  it  does  not  at  all  diminish  the  free 
grace  of  his  pardon  and  salvation.* 

"  6.  With  respect  to  The  Imputation  of  ^dam^s  Sin,  and  The 
Imputation  if  Christ^s  Righteousness,  they  have  made  similar  im- 
provements.— The  common  doctrine  had  been,  that  Adctm^s  sin  is  so 
transferred  to  his  posterity,  that  it  properly  becomes  their  sin. 
The  righteousness  of  Christ,  likewise,  is  so  transferred  or  made 
over  to  the  believer,  that  it  properly  becomes  his  righteousness. 
To  the  believer  it  is  reckoned  in  the  divine  account. — On  this  the 
question  arises,  How  can  the  righteousness  or  good  conduct  of 
one  person  be  the  righteousness  or  good  conduct  of  another.  It 
in  truth,  it  cannot  be  the  conduct  of  that  other  ;  how  can  God, 
who  is  Omniscient,  and  cannot  mistake,  reckon,  judge  or  think,  it 
to  be  the  conduct  of  that  other  ? — The  foMowers  of  Mr.  Edwards 
tind  relief  from  this  difficulty,  by  proving  that  to  impute  righteous- 
ness, is  in  the  language  of  Scripture  to  just  fy;  and  that,  to  impute 
the  righteousness  of  Christ,  is  to  justify  Oii  account  of  Christ's 
righteousness.     The  imputation  of  righteousness  can,  therefore,  be 


*The  three  Sermon?  of  Dr.  Edwards,  on  the  Atorement,  are  the  founda- 
fuui  of  all  thaf.  h.'s  hitherto  apppaf'd,  in  ihe  explanation  of  these  lon'i- 
roKtested  and  obscure,  but  now  estabhshed,  points. 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  619 

uo  transfer  of  righteousness.     They  are  the  beneficial  consequences 
of  righteousness,  which  are  transferred.     Not  therefore  the  right- 
eousness of  Christ  itself,  hut  its  beneficial  consequences  and  ad- 
vantages, are  transferred  to  tlie   behever. — In   the  same  manner 
thej  reason  with  respect  to  the  imputation  of  ..5c?«m'5  Sin.     The 
baleful  consequences  of  Adam's  sin,   which  came   upon  himself, 
came  also  upon  Aw  po>terity.     These  consequences  were,  that, 
after  his  first  transgression,  God  left  him  to  a  habitual  disposition  to 
sin,  to  a  series  of  actual  transgressions^  and  to  a  liahleness  to  th- 
curse  of  the  law,  denounced  against  such  transgression. — The  same 
consequences  took  place  with  regard  to  Adam's  posterity.     By  di 
vine  constitution,  they,  as   descending  from   Adam,   become  like 
himself,  the  subjects  of  a  habitual  disposition  to  sin.     This  dispo- 
sition is  commonly  called  original  depravity.     Under  its  influence 
they  sin,  as  soon  as,  in  a  moral  point  of  view,  they  act  at  all.     This 
depravity,  this  disposition  to  sin,  leads  them  naturally  to  a  series 
of  actual  transgressions,  and  exposes  them  to  the  whole  curse  of 
the  law. — On  this  subject  Two  Questions  have  been  much  agitated 
in  the  christian  world  : — 1.  Do  the  posterity  of  Adam,  unless  saved 
by  Christ,  suffer  final  damnation  on  account  of  Adam's  sin  ? — and, 
if  this  be  asserted,  how  can  it  be  reconciled  with  justice  ? — 2.  How 
shall  we  reconcile  it  with  justice,  that  Adam's  posterity  should  be 
doomed,  in  consequence  of  his  sin,  to  come  into  the  world,  with  a 
habitual  disposition  themselves  to  sin  ? — On  the   former  of  these 
questions,  the  common  doctrine  has  been,  that  Adam's  posterity, 
unless  saved  by  Christ,  are   damned  on  account  of  Adam's  sin, 
and  that  this  is  just,  because  his  sin  is  imputed  or  transferred  to  them. 
By  imputation,  his   sin    becomes  their  sin.     When  the  justice  pf 
such  a  transfer  is  demanded,  it  is  said  that  the  constitution,  which 
God  has  estabhshed,  makes  the  transfer  just.     To  this  it  may  be  re- 
pHed,  that  in  the  same  way  it  may  be  proved  to  be  just,  to  damn  a 
man  without  any  sin  at  all,  either  personal  or  imputed.     We  need 
only  resolve  it  into  a  sovereign  constitution  of  God.     From  this 
difficulty  the  followers  of  Mr.    Edwards   relieve  themselves,  by 
holding  that,  though  Adam  was  so  constituted  the  federal  head 
of  his  posterity,  that  in  consequence  of  his  sin  they  all  sin  or 
become  sinners,  yet  they  are   danmed  on   account  of  their  own 
personal  sin  merely,  and  not  on  account  of  Adam^s  sin,  as  though 
they  were  individually  guilty  of  his  identical  transgression.     This 
leads  us  to  the  second  question  stated  above : — viz.  How  shall  we 
reconcile  it  with  perfect  justice,  that  Adam's  posterity,  should,  by  a 
divine  constitution  be  depraved  and  sinful,  or  become  sinners,  hi 
consequence  of  Adam's  apostacy  ? — But  this  question  involves  no 
difficulty,  beside  that,  which  attends  the  doctrine  of  Divine  Decrees. 
And  this  is  satisfactory ;  because  for  God  to  decree  that  an  event 
shall  take  place,  is,  in  other  words,  the  same  thing  as,  if  he  make  a 
constitution,  under  the  operation  of  which  that  event  shall  take 


.^20  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

place.  If  God  has  decreed  whatever  comes  to  pass,  he  decreed 
the  fall  of  Adam.  It  is  obvious  that,  in  equal  consistency  with 
justice,  he  may  decree  any  other  sin.  Consequently  he  may 
decree  that  every  man  shall  sin  ;  and  this  too,  as  soon  as  he 
shall  become  capable  of  moral  action.  Now  if  God  could,  con- 
sistently with  justice,  establish,  decree,  or  make  a  constitution, 
according  to  which  this  depravity,  this  sinfulness  of  disposition 
should  exist,  without  any  respect  to  Adam's  sin,  he  might  evi- 
dently, with  the  same  justice,  decree  that  it  should  take  place  in  con- 
sequence of  Adam's  sin.  If  God  might  consistently  whh  justice 
decree,  that  the  Jews  should  crucify  Christ,  without  the  treachery 
of  Judas  preceding,  he  might  with  the  same  justice  decree,  that 
they  should  do  the  same  evil  deed,  in  consequence  of  that  treach- 
ery.— Thus  the  whole  difficulty,  attending  the  connection  between 
Adam  and  his  posterity,  is  resolved  into  the  doctrine  of  the  divine 
decrees  ;  and  the  followers  of  i\lr.  Edwards  feel  themselves  placed 
upon  strong  ground — ground  upon  which  they  are  willing,  at  any 
time,  to  meet  their  opponents. — They  conceive,  furthermore,  that, 
by  resolving  several  complicated  difficulties  into  one  simple  vindi- 
cable  principle,  a  very  considerable  improvement  is  made  in  the- 
ology. Since  the  discovery  and  elucidadon  of  the  distinction,  be- 
tween natural  and  moral  necessity,  and  inability  ;  and  since  the  ef- 
fectual confutation  of  that  doctrine,  which  founds  moral  liberty  on 
self-determination ;  they  do  not  feel  themselves  pressed  with  the 
objections,  which  are  made  to  divine  and  absolute  decrees. 

"7.  With  respect  to  The  State  of  the  Unregeneraie,  The  Use  of 
Means,  and  The  Exhortations,  which  ought  to  be  addressed  to 
the  Impenitent,  the  disciples  of  Mr.  Edwards,  founding  themselves 
on  the  great  principles  of  .Moral  Agency  established  in  the  Free- 
dom of  the  VVill,  have  since  his  day  made  considerable  improve- 
ment in  Theology. — This  improvement  was  chiefly  occasioned  by 
the  writing  of  Robert  Sandeman,  a  Scotchman,  which  werepub- 
hshed  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Edwards.  Sandeman,  in  the  most 
striking  colours,  pointed  out  the  inconsistency  of  the  popular 
preachers,  as  he  called  them;  by  whom  he  meant  Calvinistic  di- 
vines in  general.  He  proved  them  inconsistent,  in  teaching  that 
the  unregenerate  are,  by  total  depravity,  "dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins," — and  yet  supposing  that  such  sinners  do  often  attain 
those  sincere  desires,  make  those  sincere  resolutions,  and  offer  those 
sincere  prayers,  which  are  well  pleasing  in  the  sight  of  God,  and 
which  are  the  sure  presages  of  renewing  grace  and  salvation. 
He  argued,  that,  if  the  unregenerate  be  dead  in  sin,  then  all  that 
they  do  must  be  sin ;  and  that  sin  can  never  be  pleasing  and  ac- 
ceptable to  God.  Hence  he  taught,  not  only  that  all  the  exercises 
and  strivings  of  the  unregenerate  are  abominable  in  the  Divine 
\new,  but  that  there  is  no  more  likelihood,  in  conseauence  of  their 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDVVARDSi  (JiJ  1 

Strictest  attendance  on  the  means  of  grace,  that  they  will  become 
partakers  of  salvation,  than  there  would  be  in  the  total  neglect  of 
those  means.     These  sentiments  were  entirely  new.     As  soon  as 
they  were  published,  ihey  gave  a  prodigious  shock  to  all  serious 
men,  both  clergy  and  laity.     The  addresses  to  the  unregeneraie, 
which  had  hitherto  consisted  chiefly  in  exhortations  to  attend  on 
the  outward  means  of  grace,  and  to  form  such  resolutions,  and  put 
forth  such  desires,  as  all  supposed  consistent  with  unregeneracy,  were 
examined.     It  appearing  that  such  exhortations  were  addresses  to 
no  real  spiritual  good ;  many  ministers  refrained  from  all  exhorta- 
tions to  the  unregenerate.     The  perplexing  enquiry  with  such  sin- 
ners consequently  was — "  What  then  have  we  to  do  ?    All  we  do  is 
sm.      To  sin  is  certainly  wrong.      We  ought  therefore  to  remain 
still,  doing  nothing,  until  God  bestow  upon  us  reneiving  grace.     In 
this  state  of  things,  Dr.  Hopkins  took  up  the  subject.     He  inquired 
particularly  into  the  exhortations  delivered  by  the  inspired  writers. 
He  published  several  pieces  on  The  character  oj  the  Unregenerate  ; 
on  Using  the  Means  of  Grace  ;  and  on  The  Exhortations,  which 
ought  to  be  addressed  to  the    Unregenerate.     He  clearly  showed 
that,  although  they  are  dead  in  depravity  and  sin,  yet,  as  this  lays 
them  under  a  mere  Moral  Inability  to  the  exercise  and  practice  of 
true  holiness, — and  as  such  exercise  and  practice  are  their  unquestion- 
able duty,— to  this  duty  they  are  to  be  exhorted.  To  this  duty  only,  and 
to  those  things  which  imply  it,  the  inspired  writers  constantly  exhort 
the  unregenerate.     Every  thing  short  of  this  duty  is  sin.     Never- 
theless, "  as  faith  cometh  by  hearing,"  those,  who  "  hear,"  and  at- 
tend on  the  means  of  grace,  even  in  their  unregeneracy,  and  from 
natural  principles,  are  more  likely  than  others  to  become  the  sub- 
jects of  Divine  grace.     The  scriptures  sufficiently  prove,  that  this 
is  the  constitution,  which  Christ  has  established.     It  likewise  ac- 
cords perfectly  with  experience  and  observation,  both  in  apostolic 
and  subsequent  ages. 

"  8.  Mr.  Edwards  greatly  illustrated  The  Nature  of  Experimental 
Religion.  He  pointed  out,  more  clearly  than  had  been  done  be- 
fore, the  distinguishing  marks  of  genuine  christian  experience,  and 
those  religious  affections  and  exercises,  which  are  peculiar  to  the 
true  christian.  The  accounts  of  christian  affection  and  experience^ 
which  had  before  been  given,  both  by  American  and  European 
writers,  were  general,  indiscriminate  and  confused.  They  seldom, 
if  ever,  distinguished  the  exercises  of  selj-love,  natural  conscience, 
and  other  natural  principles  of  the  human  mind  under  conviction  of 
divine  truth,  from  those  of  the  new  nature,  given  in  regeneration. 
In  other  words,  they  seldom  distinguished  the  exercises  of  die 
sinner  under  the  law  work,  and  the  joys  afterwards  often  derived 
from  a  groundless  persuJision  of  his  forgiveness,  from  those  sincere 
and  evasgeiical  affections,  which  are  peculiar  to  the  real  convert. 


02i  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

They  did  not  show  hoiv  far  the  unregenerate  sinner  can  proceed 
in  religious  exercises,  and  yet  fall  short  of  saving  grace.  But  this 
whole  subject,  and  the  necessary  disdnctions  with  respect  to  it,  are 
set  in  a  striking  light  by  Mr.  Edwards,  in  his  Treatise  concerning 
Religious  Affections, 

"9.  That  our  religious  affections  must  he  disinterested,  was  ano- 
ther branch  of  the  improvements  made  by  Mr.  Edwards.  The 
word  disinterested — is,  indeed,  capable  of  such  a  sense,  as  af- 
fords a  ground  of  argument  against  disinterested  affections ; 
and  scarcely  perhaps  is  an  instance  of  its  use  to  be  found,  in 
which  it  does  not  admit  of  an  equivocation.  It  seems  to 
be  a  mere  equivocation  to  say,  that  disinterested  affecdon  is  an  im- 
possibility ;  and  that,  if  we  are  not  interested  in  favour  of  religion, 
we  are  indifferent  with  respect  to  it,  and  do  not  love  it  at  all.  But 
who  ever  thought  that,  when  a  person  professes  a  disinterested  re- 
gard for  another,  he  has  no  regard  for  him  at  all.*  The  plain 
meaning  is,  that  his  regard  for  him  is  direct  and  benevolent,  not 
selfish,  nor  arising  from  selfish  motives.  In  this  sense,  Mr.  Ed- 
wards maintained,  that  our  religious  affections,  if  genuine,  are  disin-- 
terested  ;  that  our  love  to  God  arises  chiefly — not  from  the  motive 
that  God  has  bestowed,  or  is  about  to  bestow,  on  us,  favours,  whe- 
ther temporal  or  eternal,  but — from  his  own  infinite  excellence  and 
glory.  The  same  explanadon  applies  to  the  love,  which  every  truly 
pious  person  feels  for  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  for  every  truth  of  di- 
vine revelation,  and  for  the  whole  scheme  of  the  Gospel.  Very 
different  from  this  is  the  representation,  given  by  most  theological 
writers,  before  Mr.  Edwards.  The  motives  presented  by  them,  to 
persuade  men  to  love  and  serve  God,  to  come  unto  Christ,  to  repent 
of  their  sins,  and  to  embrace  and  practice  religion,  are  chiefly  of 
the  selfish  kind.  There  is,  in  their  works,  no  careful  and  exact  dis- 
crimination upon  this  subject. 

"  10.  He  has  thrown  great  light  on  the  important  doctrine  of  Re- 
generation. Most  writers  before  him,  treat  this  subject  very  loose- 
ly. They  do  indeed  describe  a  variety  of  awakenings  and  con- 
victions, fears  and  distresses,  comforts  and  joys,  as  implied  in  it ; 
and  they  call  the  whole.  Regeneration.  They  represent  the  man 
before  Regeneration  as  dead,  and  no  more  capable  of  spiritual  ac- 
tion, than  a  man  naturally  deadis  capable  of  performing  diose  deeds, 
which  require  natural  life  and  strength.  From  their  description,  a 
person  is  led  to  conceive,  that  the  former  is  as  excusable,  in  his  omis- 
sion of  those  holy  exercises,  which  constitute  the  christian  charac- 
ter and  Hfe,  as  the  latter  is,  in  the  neglect  of  those  labours,  which 
cannot  be  performed  without  natural  life.     From  their  account,  no 

*  The  whole  difficulty  is  removed  by  reflecting  that  disinterested  is  the 
converse  of  seljish  ;  and  uninterested,  the  converse  of  interested. 


LIFE    er    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  623 

«ne  can  determine   in  what  the  change,  effected  by  regeneration, 
consists.     They  do  not  show  the  enquirer,  whether  every  awaken- 
ed and  convinced  sinner,  who  afterwards  has  lively  gratitude  and 
joy,  is  regenerated  ;  or  whether  a  gracious  change  of  heart  implies 
joys  of  a  peculiar  kind  :  Neither,  if  the  renewed  have  joys  peculiar 
to  themselves,   do  the  teachers,  now   referred   to,   describe  that 
peculiarity ;  nor  do  they  tell  from  w^hat  motives  the  joys,  that  are 
evidence  of  regeneration,  arise.     They  represent  the  whole  man, 
his  understanding,  and  his  sensitive  faculties,  as  renewed,  no  less 
than  his  heart  and   affections.     According  to  them  generally,  this 
change  is  effected  by  light.     As  to  this  indeed  they  are  not  per- 
fectly agreed.     Some  of  them  hold,  that  the  change  is  produced, 
by  the  bare  light  and  motives  exhibited  in  the  gospel.     Others  pre- 
tend, that  a  man  is  persuaded  to  become  a  christian,  as  he  is  per- 
suaded to  become  a  friend  to  republican  government.     Yet  others 
there  are,  who  hold  that  regeneration  is  caused,  by  a'supernaturai 
and  divine  light  immediately  communicated.     Their  representation 
of  this  seems  to  imply,  and  their  readers  understand  it  as  implying, 
an  immediate    and  new  revelation.     But  according  to  Mr.  Ed- 
wards, and  those  w^ho  adopt  his  views  of  the  subject,  regeneration 
consists  in  the  communication    of  a  new  spiritual  sense  or  taste. 
Tn  other  words,  a  new  heart  is  given.  This  communication  is  made, 
this  work  is  accomplished,  by  the  Spirit  of  God.     It  is  their  opinion, 
that  the  intellect^  and  the  sensitive  faculties,  are  not  the  immediate 
subject  of  any  change   in  regeneration.     They  believe,  however, 
that,  in  consequence  of  the  change  which  the  renewed  heart  expe- 
riences, and  of  its  reconciliation  to  God,  light  breaks  in  upon  the 
understanding.     The  subject  of  regeneration  sees,  therefore,  the 
glory  of  God's  character,  and  the  glory  of  all  divine  truth.     This 
may  be  an  illustration.     A  man  becomes  cordially  reconciled  to  his 
neighbour,  against  whom  he  had  previously  felt  a  strong  enmity. 
He  now^  sees  the  real  excellencies  of  his  neighbour's  character,  to 
which  he  was  blinded  before  by  enmity  and  prejudice.     These 
new  views  of  his  neighbour,  and  these  different  feelings  towards 
him,  are  the  consequence  of  the  change :  its  evidence^  but  not  the 
change  itself. — At  the  same  time,  Mr.  Edwards  and  others  believe 
that,  in  saving  experience,  the  sensitive  facuhies  are  brought  under 
due  regulation  by  the  new  heart  or  holy  temper.       None  of  the 
awakenings,  fears,  and  convictions,  which  precede  the  new  heart, 
are,  according  to  this  scheme,  any  part  of  Regeneration  ;  thougli 
they  are,  in  some  sense,  a  preparation  for  it,  as  all  doctrinal  know- 
ledge is.     The  sinner,  before  regeneration,  is  allow^ed  to  be  totally 
dead  to  the  exercises  and  dudes  of  the  spiritual  life.     He  is  never- 
theless accounted  a  moral  agent.     He  is  therefore  entirely  blame- 
able  in  his  impenitence,  his  unbelief,  and  his  alienation  from  God. 
He  is  therefore,  with  perfect  propriety,  exhorted  to  repent,  to  be- 
come reconciled  to  God  in  Christ,  and  to  arise  from  his  spiritual 


624  LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS. 

death,  that  "  Christ  may  give  him  light." — According  to  this  systenj, 
regeneration  is  produced,  neither  by  moral  suasion,  i.e.  by  the  argu- 
ments and  motives  of  the  Gospel,  nor  by  any  supernatural,  spiritual 
light;  but  by  the  immediate  agency  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Yet  the 
light  and  knowledge  of  the  Gospel  are,  by  Divine  constitution, 
usually  necessary  to  regeneration,  as  the  blowing  of  the  ram's  horns 
was  necessary  to  the  falling  of  the  walls  of  Jerico  ;  and  the  moving 
of  the  stone,  from  the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre,  was  necessary  to  the 
raising  of  Lazarus." 


Thus  it  appears,  that  Mr.  Edwards  taught  us  in  his  writings,  in  a  man- 
ner so  clear,  that  mankind  have  hitherto  been  satisfied  with  the  in- 
struction. Why  God  created  this  material  and  spiritual  Universe  ; — 
What  is  the  nature  of  that  Government  which  he  exercises  over 
blinds,  and  how  it  is  consistent  with  their  perfect  freedom  ; — What 
is  the  Nature  of  that  Virtue,  which  they  must  possess,  if  they  are 
to  secure  his  approbation  ; — What  is  the  Nature,  the  Source,  the 
Extent,  and  the  Evidences  of  that  Depravity,  which  characterizes 
Man,  as  a  fallen  being; — What  is  the  Series  of  Evepts,  by  W'hich 
his  Redemption  is  accomplished  ; — What  are  the  Qualifications  for 
thatChurch,  to  which  the  redeemed  belong; — What  are  the  Grounds, 
on  which  they  are  justified ; — What  are  the  Nature  and  Evidences 
of  that  Religion,  which  is  imparted  to  them  by  the  Spirit  of  grace  ; 
— What  are  the  Nature  and  Effects  of  that  Revival  of  religion, 
which  accompanies  an  effusion  of  his  divine  influences  on  a  people ; 
— And  what  are  tlie  Inducements  to  United  and  Extraordinary 
Prayer,  that  such  effusions  may  be  abundantly  enjoyed  by  the 
Church  of  God.* — By  what  is  thus  said,  we  do  not  intend,  that  all 
his  reasonings  are  solid,  or  all  his  opinions  sound  and  scriptural ;  but 
we  know  of  no  writer,  since  the  days  of  the  Apostles,  who  has  bet- 
ter comprehended  the  Word  of  God  ;  who  has  more  fully  unfolded 
the  nature  and  design  of  the  revelation  of  his  mind,  which  it  con- 
tains; who  has  more  ably  explained  and  defended  the  great  doc- 
trines, which  it  teaches,  who  has  more  clearly  illustrated  the  religion 
which  it  requires  ;  who  has  done  more  for  the  purification  and  en- 
largement of  that  church  which  it  establishes ;  or  who,  in  conse- 
quence of  his  unfoldmgs  of  divine  truth,  will  find,  when  the  work  of 
every  man  is  weighed  in  the  balances  of  eternity,  a  larger  number 
to  be,  his  hope,  and  joy,  and  crown  of  rejoicing  in  that  day." — And 
when  we  remember,  in  addition  to  all  this,  that  we  can  probablv 
select  no  individ  ual,  of  all  who  have  lived  in  that  long  period,  who 
has  manifested  a  more  ardent  or  elevated  piety  towards  God,  a 
warmer  or  more  expanded  benevolence  towards  Man,  or  greater 


*  For  a  Catalogue  of  the  works  of  Mr.  Edwards,  published  previous  fo  th 
edition,  sec  Appendix  Ij, 


LIFE    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS.  625 

purity,  or  disinterestedness,  or  integrity  of  character — one,  who  gave 
the  concentrated  strength  of  all  his  powers,  more  absolutely,  to  the 
one  end  of  glorifying  God  in  the  salvation  of  Man  ; — and  then  re- 
flect, that  at  the  age  oi' fifty-four,  in  the  highest  vigour  of  all  his 
faculties,  in  thefulnessof  his  usefulness,  when  he  was  just  entering 
on  the  most  important  station  of  his  life,  he  yielded  to  the  stroke  ot 
death  ;  we  look  towards  his  grave,  in  mute  astonishment,  unable  to 
penetrate  those  clouds  and  darkness,  which  hover  around  it.  One 
of  his  weeping  friends*  thus  explained  this  most  surprizing  dispen- 
sation : — "  He  was  pouring  in  a  flood  of  light  upon  mankind,  which 
their  eyes,  as  yet,  were  too  feeble  to  bear." — If  this  was  not  the  rea- 
son ;  we  can  only  say — "  Even  so.  Father !  for  so  it  seemed  good  in 
thy  sight." 


Dr.  Finlev. 


Vol.  I.  79 


FAREWELL  SERMON. 


A  Farewell  Sermon^  preached  at  the  first  Precinct  in  Northampton, 
after  the  peopWs  public  rejection  of  their  minister,  and  renouncing 
their  relation  to  him  as  Pastor  of  the  Church  there,  on  JMwe?22,  1 750; 
Occasioned  by  difference  of  sentiments,  concerning  the  requisite 
Qualifications  of  members  of  the  Church,  in  complete  standing: 
By  Jonathan  Edwards,  A.  M. 

Acts  XX.  1  8.  Ye  know,  from  the  first  day  that  I  came  into  Asia,  af- 
ter what  manner  1  have  been  with  you,  at  all  seasons. 

Ver.  20.  And  how  I  kept  back  nothing  that  was  profitable  unto  you  : 
but  have  showed  you,  and  have  taught  you  publicly,  and  from  house 
to  house. 

Vei.  26,  27.  Wherefore  I  take  you  to  record  this  day,  that  I  am  pure 
from  the  blood  of  all  men  ;  for  I  have  not  shunned  to  declare  unto 
you  all  the  Counsel  of  God. 

Gal.  iv.  15,  16.  Where  is  then  the  blessedness  ye  spake  of?  For  I 
bear  you  record,  that,  if  it  had  been  possible,  ye  would  have  plucked 
out  your  own  eyes,  and  have  given  them  to  me.  Am  I  therefore  be- 
come your  enemy,  because  I  tell  you  the  truth. 

Boston  :  Printed  and  Sold  by  S.  Kneeland,  over  against  the  Prison  it 
Queen-Street.     1751. 


PREFACE. 

It  is  not  unlikely,  that  some  of  the  readers  of  the  following  Sermon 
may  be  inquisitive,  concerning  the  circumstances  of  the  difference  be- 
tween me  and  the  people  of  Northampton,  that  issued  in  that  separa- 
tion between  me  and  them,  which  occasioned  the  preaching  of  this 
Farewell  Sermon.  There  is.  by  no  means,  room  here  for  a  full  ac- 
count of  that  matter.  But  yet  it  seems  to  be  proper,  and  even  neces- 
sary, here,  to  correct  some  gross  misrepix'sentations,  which  have  been 
abundantly,  and,  itis  to  be  feared,  by  some  affectedly  and  industriously, 
made,  of  that  difference  :  such  as,  That  J  insisted  on  persons  being 
assured  of  their  being  in  a  state  of  salvation,  in  order  to  my  admitting 
them  into  the  Church  ;  that  1  required  a  particular  relation  of  the  me- 
thod and  order  of  a  person's  inward  experience,  and  of  the  time  and 


PREFACE  TO  FAREWELL  SERMON.  627 

manner  of  his  conversion,  as  the  test  of  his  fitness  for  Christian  com- 
munion ;  yea,  that  I  have  undertaken  to  set  up  a  pure  church,  and  to 
make  an  exact  and  certain  distinction  between  saints  and  hypocrites, 
by  a  pretended  infallible  discerning  the  state  of  men's  souls  ;  that  in 
these  things  1  had  fallen  in  with  those  wild  people,  who  have  lately  ap- 
peared in  New  England,  called  Separatists ;  and  that  I  myself  was  be- 
come a  grand  Separatist;  that  I  arrogated  all  the  power  of  judging  of 
the  Quahtications  of  candidates  for  Communion,  wholly  to  myself,  and 
insisted  on  acting  by  my  sole  authority,  in  the  admission  of  members  in- 
to the  Church,  etc. 

In  opposition  to  these  slanderous  representations,  I  shall,  at  present, 
only  give  my  reader  an  account  of  some  things,  which  I  laid  before 
the  Council,  that  separated  between  me  and  my  people,  in  order  to 
their  having  a  just  and  full  account  of  my  principles,  relating  to  the  af- 
fair in  controversy. 

Long  before  the  sitting  of  the  Council,  my  people  had  sent  to  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Clark  of  Salem  Village,  desiring  him  to  write  in  opposition 
to  my  principles.  Which  gave  me  occasion  to  write  to  Mr.  Clark, 
that  he  might  have  true  information  what  my  principles  were.  And 
in  the  time  of  the  sitting  of  the  Council,  I  did,  for  their  informa- 
tion, make  a  public  declaration  of  my  principles,  before  them  and  the 
Church,  in  the  meeting  house,  of  the  same  import  with  that  in  my 
letter  to  Mr.  Clark,  and  very  much  in  the  same  words.  And  then, 
afterwards,  sent  in  to  the  Council,  in  writing,  an  extract  of  that 
letter,  containing  the  information  I  had  given  to  Mr.  Clark,  in  the 
very  words  of  my  letter  to  him,  that  the  Council  might  read  and  con- 
sider it  at  their  leisure,  and  have  a  more  certain  and  more  satisfactory 
knowledge  what  my  principles  were.  The  extract  which  I  sent  in  to 
them,  was  in  the  following  words  : 

"  I  am  often,  and  I  do  not  know  but  pretty  generally,  in  the  coun- 
try, represented  as  of  a  new  and  odd  opinion,  with  respect  to  the  terms 
of  Christian  communion,  and  as  being  for  introducing  a  peculiar  way 
of  my  own.  Whereas,  I  do  not  perceive  that  1  differ  at  all  from  the 
scheme  of  Dr.  Watts,  in  his  book,  entitle<l,  The  rational  foundation 
of  a  Christian  Church,  and  the  terms  of  Christian  Communion  ; 
which  he  says,  is  the  common  sentiment  and  practice  of  all  reformed 
churches.  I  had  not  seen  this  book  of  Dr.  V.'atts',  when  I  published 
what  I  have  written  on  the  subject ;  but  yet,  I  think  my  sentiments, 
as  I  have  expressed  them,  are  as  exactly  agreeable  to  what  he  lays 
down,  as  if  I  had  been  his  pupil.  Nor  do  I  at  all  go  beyond  what 
Dr.  Doddiidge  plainly  shows  to  be  his  sentiments,  in  his  Rise  and 
Progress  of  Religion,  and  his  Sermons  on  Regeneration,  and  his 
Paraphrase  and  Notes  on  the  New  Testament.  Nor  indeed.  Sir,  when 
I  consider  the  sentiments  you  have  expressed  in  your  letters  to  Major 
Pomroy  and  Mr.  Billing,  can  I  perceive,  but  that  they  come  exactly 
to  the  same  thing  which  I  maintain.  You  suppose,  the  Sacra- 
ments are  not  converting  ordinances  :  but  that,  as  seals  of  the  Cove- 
nant, they  presuppose  conversion,  especially  in  the  adult ;  and  that  it 
is  msible  saintship,  or  in  other  words,  a  credible  profession  cf  faith 
and  repentance,  a  solemn  consent  to  the  Gospel  covenant,  joined  iriih  a 


628  PREFACE  1*0  FAREWELL  SERMON. 

good  conversation,  and  competent  measure  of  Christian  knowledge,  is 
what  gives  a  Gospel  right  to  all  sacred  ordinances,  but  that  it  is  ne- 
cessary to  those  that  come  to  these  ordinances^  and  in  those  that  profess 
a  consent  in  the  Gospel  covenant,  that  they  be  sincere  in  their  profes- 
sion, or  at  least  should  think  themselves  so. — The  great  thing  which  I 
have  scrupled  in  the  established  method  of  this  Church's  pioceeding, 
and  which  T  dare  no  longer  go  on  in,  is  their  publicly  assenting  to  the 
form  of  f words,  rehearsed  on  occasion  of  their  admission  to  the  com- 
munion,  without   pretending   thereby  to  mean  any  such  thing,  as  a 
hearty  consent  to  the  terms  of  the  Gospel  covenant,   or   to  mean  any 
such  faith  or  repentance  as  belong  to  the  covenant  of  grace,  and  are 
the  grand  conditions  of  that  covenant  ;  It  being,  at  the  same  time  that 
the  words  are  used,  their  known  and  established  principle,  which  they 
openly  profess  and  proceed  upon,  that  men  may  and  ought  to  use  these 
w^ords,  and  mean  no  such  thing,  but  something  else  of  a  nature  far  in- 
ferior;   which   I  think  they  have   no  distinct  determinate  notion  of ; 
but  something  consistent  with  their  knowing  that  they  do  not  choose 
God  as  their  chief  good,  but  love  the  world  more  than  him,  and  that 
they  do  not  ^ive  themselves  up  entirely  to  God,  but  make  reserves  ;  and 
in  short,  knowing  that  they  do  not  heartily  consent  to  the  Gospel  cove- 
nant, but  hve  still  under  the  reigning  power  of  the  love  of  the  world, 
and  enmity  to  God  and  Christ.     So  that  the  words  of  their  public 
profession,  according  to  their  openly  estabhshed  use,  cease  to  be  of  the 
nature  of  any  profession  of  Gospel  faith  and  repentance,  or  any  pro- 
per compliance  with  the  covenant :  for  it  is  their  profession,  that  the 
words,  as  used,  mean  no  such  thing.     The  words  used,  under  these 
circumstances,  do  at  least  fail  of  being  a  credible  profession  of  these 
things. — I  can  conceive  of  no  such  virtue  in  a  certain  set  of  words, 
that  it  is  proper,  merely  on  the  making  of  these  sounds,  to  admit  per- 
sons to  Christian  Sacraments,   without  any  regard  to  any  pretend?  d 
meaning  of  those  sounds  :   nor  can   I  think,    that  any  institution   of 
Christ  has  established  any  such  terms  of  admission  into  the  Christian 
Church. — It  does  not  belong  to  the  controversy  between  me  and  my 
people,  how  particular  or  large  the  profession  should  be,  that  is  re- 
quired.    I  should  not  choose  to  be  confined  to  exact  Hmits  as  to  that 
matter :  but,  rather  than  contend,  I  should  content  myself  with  a  few 
words,  briefly  expressing  the  cardinal  virtues  or  acts,  implied  in  a 
hearty  compliance  with  the  covenant,  made  (as  should  appear  by  en- 
quiry into   the  person's   doctrinal  knowledcre)    understandingly  ;    if 
there  wei-e  an  external  conversation  agreeable  thereto  :  yea,  I  should 
think,  that  such  a  })erson,  solemnly  making  such  a  profession,  had  a 
right  to  be  received  as  the  object  of  a  public  charity,  however  he  him- 
self might  scruple  his  own  conversion,  on  account  of  his  not  remem- 
bering the  time,  not  knowing  the  method  of  his  conversion,  or  finding 
so  much  remaining  sin,  etc.       And.  (if  his  own  scruples  did  not  hin- 
der his  coming  to   the  Lord's  Table,)  I  should  think  the  minister  or 
church  had  no  riij^ht  to  debar  such  a  professor,  though  he  should  say 
he  did  not  think  himself  converted.     For  I  call  that  a  profession  of 
godliness,   which  is  a  profession   of  the  great  things  wherein    godli- 
ness consists,  and  not  a   profession  of  his  own  opinion  of  his  good 
estate. 

"  Northampton,  May  7,  .1750." 


PREFACE  TO  FAREWELL  SERMON.  62$ 

Thus  far  my  letter  to  Mr.  Clark. 

The  Council  having  heard  that  I  had  made  certain  draughts  of  the 
Covenant,  or  Forms  of  a  public  Profession  of  Religion,  which  1  stood 
ready  to  accent  of,  from  the  candidates  for  Church  Communion,  they, 
for  their  further  information,  sent  for  thf-m.  Accordingly  [  sent  them 
four  distinct  draughts  or  forms,  which  I  had  drawn  up  about  a  twflve- 
month  before,  as  what  I  stood  ready  to  accept  of,  (any  one  of  them) 
rather  than  contend,  and  break  with  my  people. 

The  two  shortest  of  these  forms  are  here  inserted,  for  the  satisfaction' 
of  the  reader.     They  are  as  follows  : 

"  I  hope  I  do  truly  find  a  heart  to  give  up  myself  wholly  to  God,  ac- 
cording to  the  tenor  of  that  covenant  of  grace,  which  was  sealed  in  my 
baptism  ;  and  to  walk  in  a  way  of  that  obedience  to  all  the  command- 
ments of  God,  which  the  covenant  of  grace  requires,  as  long  as  I  live." 

Atiother, 

•'  I  hope  I  truly  find  in  my  heart  a  willingness  to  comply  with  all  the 
commandments  of  God,  which  require  me  to  give  up  myself  wholly  to 
him,  and  to  serve  him  with  my  body  and  my  spirit.  And  do  accord- 
ingly now  promise  to  walk  in  a  way  of  obedience  to  all  the  command- 
ments of  God,  as  long  as  I  live." 

Such  kind  of  professions  as  these  I  stood  ready  to  accept,  rather 
than  contend  and  break  with  my  people.  Not  but  that  I  think  it  much 
more  convenient,  that  ordinarily  the  public  profession  of  religion,  that 
is  made  by  Christians,  should  be  much  fuller  and  more  particular. 
And  that,  (as  I  hinted  in  my  letter  to  Mr.  Clark,)  I  should  not  choose 
to  be  tied  up  to  any  certain  form  of  words,  hvit  to  have  liberty  to  vary 
the  expressions  of  a  public  profession,  the  more  exactly  to  suit  the  sen- 
timents and  experience  of  the  professor,  that  it  might  be  a  more  just 
and  free  expression  of  what  each  one  finds  in  his  heart. 

And,  moreover,  it  must  be  noted,  that  I  ever  insisted  on  it,  that  it  be- 
longed to  me  as  a  Pastor,  before  a  profession  was  accepted,  to  have 
full  liberty  to  instruct  the  candidate  in  the  meaning  of  the  terms  of  it, 
and  in  the  nature  of  the  things  proposed  to  be  professed  ;  and  to  en- 
quire into  his  doctrinal  understanding  of  these  things,  according  to  my 
best  discretion  ;  and  to  caution  the  person  as  I  should  think  needful, 
against  rashness  in  making  such  a  profession,  or  doing  it  mainly  for  the 
credit  of  himself  or  his  family,  or  from  any  secular  views  whatsoever, 
and  to  put  him  on  serious  self-examination,  and  searching  his  own 
heart,  and  prayer  to  God  to  search  and  enlighten  him,  that  he  may 
not  be  hypocritical  and  deceived  in  the  profession  he  makes  ;  withal 
pointing  forth  to  him  the  many  ways  in  which  professors  are  liable  to 
be  deceived. 

Nor  do  I  think  it  improper  for  a  minister,  in  such  a  case,  to  enquire 
and  know  of  the  candidate  what  can  be  remembered  of  the  circum- 
stances of  his  Christian  experience  ;  as  this  may  tend  much  to  illus- 
trate his  profession,  and  give  a  minister  great  Advantage  for  proper 


630  FAREWELL    SERMON". 

instructions :  though  a  particular  knowledge  and  remembrance  of  the 
ti-ne  and  method  of  the  first  conversion  to  God,  is  not  made  the  test 
of  a  person's  sincerity,  nor  insisted  on  as  necessary  in  order  to  his  be- 
ing received  into  full  charity.  Not  that  I  think  it  at  all  improper  or 
unprofitable,  that  in  some  special  cases  a  declaration  of  the  particular 
circumstances  of  a  person's  first  awakening,  and  the  manner  of  his 
convictions,  illuminations  and  comforts,  should  be  publicly  exhibited 
before  the  whole  congregation,  on  occasion  of  hiS  admission  into  the 
Church  ;  though  this  be  not  demanded  as  necessary  to  admission.  I 
ever  declared  against  insisting  on  a  relation  of  experiences,  in  this 
sense,  (viz.  a  relation  of  the  particular  time  and  steps  of  the  opera- 
tion of  the  Spirit,  in  first  conversion,)  as  the  term  of  communion  : 
yet,  if,  by  a  relation  of  experiences,  be  meant  a  declaration  of  experi- 
ence of  the  great  things  wrought^  wherein  true  grace  and  the  essen- 
tial arts  and  habits  of  holiness  consist ;  in  this  sense,  I  think  an  ac- 
count of  a  person's  experiences  necessary,  in  order  to  his  admission 
into  full  Communion  in  the  Church.  But  that  in  whatever  enquiries 
are  made,  or  whatever  account  is  given,  neither  minister  nor  church 
are  to  set  up  themselves  as  searchers  of  hearts,  but  are  to  accept  the 
serious  solemn  profession  of  the  well-instrurted  professor,  of  a  good 
life,  as  best  able  to  determine  what  he  finds  in  his  own  heart. 

These  things  may  serve  in  some  measure  to  set  right  those  of  my 
readers,  who  have  been  misled  in  their  apprehensions  of  the  state  of 
the  controversy,  between  me  and  my  people,  by  the  forementioned 
misrepresentations. 


FAREWELL  SERMON. 

II.  CORINTHIANS,    I.     14. 

A  -  also  ye  have   acknowledged  us  in  part,  that  we  are  your  rejoicing,  even  as  ye 
also  are  ours,  in  the  day  of  the  Lord  Jesus. 

The  Apostle,  in  the  preceding  part  of  the  chapter,  declares  what 
great  troubles  he  met  with,  in  the  course  of  his  ministry.  In  the  text, 
and  two  foregoing  verses,  he  declares  what  were  his  comforts  and 
supports,  under  the  troubles  he  met  with.  There  are  four  things  in 
particular. 

1.  That  he  had  approved  himself  to  his  own  conscience,  v.  12. 
For  ovr  rejoicing  is  this,  the  testimony  of  our  conscience,  that  in  sim- 
plicity and  godly  sincerity,  not  with  fleshly  wisdom,  but  by  the  grace  of 
God,  we  have  had  our  conversation  in  the  world,  and  more  abundantly 
to  you  wards. 

2.  Another  thing  he  speaks  of  as  matter  of  comfort,  is,  that  as  he 
had  approved  himself  to  his  own  conscience,  so  he  had  also  to  the  con- 
sciences of  his  hearers,  the  Corinthians  to  whom  be  now  wrote,  and 
that  they  should  approve  of  him  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

3.  The  hope  he  had  of  seeing  the  blessed  fruit  of  his  labours  and 
sufferings  in  the  ministry,  in  their  happiness  and  glory  in  that  great 
day  of  accounts. 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  631 

4.  That  in  his  ministry  among  the  Corinthian?,  he  had  approved 
himself  to  his  Judge,  who  would  approve  and  reward  his  faithfulness 
in  that  day. 

These  three  last  p^rtirulars  are  signified  in  my  text  and  the  prece- 
ding verse  ;  and  indeed  all  the  four  are  implied  in  the  text :  It  is  im- 
plied, that  the  Corinthians  had  acknowledged  him  as  their  spiritual 
father,  and  as  one  that  had  been  faithful  among  them,  and  as  the 
means  of  their  future  joy  and  glory  at  the  day  of  Judgment,  and  one 
whom  they  should  then  see,  and  have  a  joyful  meeting  with  as  such. 
It  is  implied,  that  the  apostle  expected,  at  that  time,  to  have  a  joyful 
meeting  with  them.,  before  the  Judge,  and,  with  joy,  to  behold  their 
glory,  as  the  frUit  of  his  labours  ;  and  so  they  would  be  his  rejoicing. 
It  is  implied  also,  that  he  then  expected  to  be  approved  of  the  great 
Judge,  when  he  and  they  should  meet  together  before  Him  ;  and  that 
he  would  then  acknowledge  his  fidelity,  and  that  this  had  been  the 
means  of  their  glory  ;  and  that  thus  he  would,  as  it  were,  give  them  to 
him  as  his  crown  of  rejoicing.  But  this  the  Apostle  could  not  hope 
for,  unless  he  had  the  testimony  of  his  own  conscience  in  his  favour. 
And  therefore  the  words  do  imply,  in  the  strongest  manner,  that  he 
had  approved  himself  to  his  own  conscience. 

There  is  one  thing  implied  in  each  of  these  particulars,  and  in  every 
part  of  the  text,  which  is  that  point  I  shall  make  the  subject  of  my 
present  discourse,  viz  : 

Doctrine.  Ministers,  and  the  peojde  that  have  been  under  their 
caie,  mnst  meet  one  another,  before  Christ's  tribunal,  at  the  day  of 
judgment. 

Ministers,  and  the  people  that  have  been  under  their  care,  must  be 
parted  in  this  world,  how  well  soever  they  have  been  united  :  If  they 
are  not  separated  before,  they  must  be  parted  by  death  :  And  they 
may  be  separated  while  life  is  continued.  We  live  in  a  world  of 
change,  where  nothing  is  certain  or  stable  ;  and  where  a  little  time, 
a  few  revolutions  of  the  sun,  brings  to  pass  strange  things,  surprising 
alterations,  in  particular  persons,  in  families,  in  towns  and  churches, 
in  countries  and  nations.  It  often  happens,  that  those,  who  seem  most 
united,  in  a  little  time  are  most  disunited,  and  at  the  greatest  distance. 
Thus  ministers  and  people,  between  whom  there  has  been  the  greatest 
mutual  regard  and  strictest  union,  may  not  only  diflfer  in  their  judg- 
ments, and  be  alienated  in  aflfection  ;  But  one  may  rend  from  the 
other,  and  all  relation  between  them  be  dissolved  ;  the  minister  may 
be  removed  to  a  distant  place,  and  they  may  never  have  any  more  to 
do,  one  with  another,  in  this  world.  But  if  it  be  so,  there  is  one  meet- 
ing more  that  they  must  have,  and  that  is  in  the  last  great  day  of  ac- 
counts. 

Here  I  would  shew, 

I.  In  what  manner,  ministers  and  the  people  which  have  been  un- 
der their  care,  shall  meet  one  another  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

II.  For  what  purposes. 

III.  For  what  reasons  God  has  so  ordered  it,  that  ministers  and 
their  people  shall  then  meet  together  in  such  a  manner,  and  for  such 
purposes. 

I.  I  would  shew,  in  some  particulars,  in  what  manner  ministers  and 


632  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

the  people  which  have  been  under  their  care,  shall  meet  one  another 

at  the  day  of  judgment.     Concerning  this,  I  would  observe  two  things 

in  general. 

;    1 .  That  they  shall  not  then  meet  merely  as  all  mankind  must  then 

meet,   but  there  will  be  something   peculiar  in  the  manner  of  their 

meeting. 

2.  That  their  meeting  together,  at  that  time,  shall  be  very  different 
from  what  used  to  be  in  the  house  of  God  in  this  world. 

1.  They  shall  not  meet,  at  that  day,  merely  as  all  the  world  must 
then  meet  together.     I  would  observe  a  difference  in  two  things. 

(1.)  As  to  a  clear  actual  view,  and  distinct  knowledge  and  notice 
of  each  other. 

Although  the  whole  world  will  be  then  present,  all  mankind  of  all 
generations  gathered  in  one  vast  assembly,  with  all  of  the  angelic  na- 
ture, both  elect  and  fallen  angels  ;  yet  we  need  not  suppose,  that  eve- 
ry one  will  have  a  distinct  and  particular  knowledge  of  each  individual 
of  the  whole  assembled  multitude,  which  will  undoubtedly  consist  of 
many  millions  of  millions.  Though  it  is  probable  that  men's  capaci- 
ties will  be  much  greater  than  in  their  present  state,^  yet  they  will  not 
be  infinite  :  Though  their  understanding  and  comprehension  will  be 
vastly  extended,  yet  men  will  not  be  deified.  There  will  probably  be 
a  very  enlarged  view,  that  particular  persons  will  have  of  the  various 
parts  and  members  of  that  vast  assembly,  and  so  of  the  proceedings  of 
that  great  day  :  but  yet  it  must  needs  be,  that  according  to  the  nature 
of  finite  minds,  some  persons  and  some  things,  at  that  day,  shall  fall 
more  under  the  notice  of  particular  persons  than  others  ;  and  this,  (as 
we  may  well  suppose,)  according  as  they  shall  have  a  nearer  con- 
cern with  some  than  others,  in  the  transactions  of  the  day.  There 
will  be  special  reason,  why  those  who  have  had  special  concerns  to- 
gether, in  this  world,  in  their  state  of  probation,  and  whose  mutual 
affairs  will  be  then  to  be  tried  and  judged,  should  especially  be  set  in 
one  another's  view.  Thus  we  may  suppose,  that  rulers  and  subjects, 
earthly  judges  and  those  whom  they  have  judged,  neighbours  who  have 
had  mutual  converse,  dealings  and  contests,  heads  of  families  and  their 
children  and  servants,  shall  then  meet,  and  in  a  peculiar  distinction 
be  set  together.  And  especially  will  it  be  thus  with  ministers  and  their 
people.  It  is  evident,  by  the  text,  that  these  shall  be  in  each  others* 
view,  shall  distinctly  know  each  other,  and  shall  have  particular  notice 
one  of  another  at  that  time.  * 

(2.)  They  shall  meet  together,  as  having  special  concern,  one  with 
another,  in  the  great  transactions  of  that  day. 

Although  they  shall  meet  the  whole  world  at  that  time,  yet  they  will 
not  have  any  immediate  and  particular  concern  with  all.  Yea,  the  far 
greater  part  of  those  who  shall  then  be  gathered  together,  will  be  such 
as  they  have  had  no  intercourse  with  in  their  state  of  probation,  and 
so  will  have  no  mutual  concerns  to  be  judged  of.  But  as  to  ministers, 
and  the  people  that  have  been  under  their  care,  they  will  be  such  as 
have  had  much  immediate  concern  one  with  another,  in  matters  of  the 
greatest  moment,  that  ever  mankind  have  to  do  one  with  another  in. 
Therefore  they  especially  must  meet,  and  be  brought  together  before 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  63^ 

the  Judge,  as  having  special  concern  one  with  another  in  the  design 
and  business  of  that  great  day  of  accounts. 

Thus  their  meeting,  as  to  the  manner  of  it,  will  be  diverse  from  the 
meeting  of  mankijid  in  geneial. 

2.  Their  meeting,  attiie  day  of  Judgment,  will  be  very  diverse  from 
their  meetings  one  with  another  in  this  world. 

Ministers  and  their  people,  while  their  relation  continues,  often  meet 
together  in  this  world  :  They  are  wont  to  meet  from  sabbath  to  sab- 
bath, and  at  other  times,  for  the  public  worship  of  God,  and  adminis- 
tration of  ordinances,  and  the  solemn  services  of  God's  house  :  And 
beside  these  meetings  they  have  also  occasion  to  meet  for  the 
determining  and  managing  their  ecclesiastical  affairs,  for  the  exer- 
cise of  church  discipline,  and  the  settling  and  ailjnstincr  those 
things  which  concern  the  purity  and  good  order  of  pubhc  administra- 
tions. But  their  meeting  at  the  day  of  Judgment  will  be  exceedmff 
diverse,  in  its  manner  and  circumstances,  from  any  such  meetings  and 
interviews  as  they  have,  one  with  another,  in  the  present  state.  I 
would  observe  how,  in  a  (ew  particulars. 

(1.)  Now  they  meet  together  in  a  preparatory  mutable  state,  but 
then  in  an  unchangeable  state. 

Now,  sinners  in  the  congregation  meet  their  minister  in  a  state 
wherein  they  are  capable  of  a  saving  change,  capable  of  being  turned, 
through  God's  blessing  on  the  ministrations  and  labours  of  their  pas- 
tor, from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God,  and  being  brought  out  of  a 
state  of  guilt,  condemation  and  wrath,  to  a  state  of  peace  and  favour 
with  God,  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  privileges  of  his  children,  and  a  title 
to  their  eternal  inheritance.  And  saints  now  meet  their  ministers  with 
great  remains  of  corruption,  and  sometimes  under  great  spiritual  diffi- 
culties and  affliction  :  And  therefore  are  yet  the  proper  subjects  of 
means  of  a  happy  alteration  of  their  state,  consisting  in  a  greater 
freedom  from  these  things ;  which  they  have  reason  to  hope  for  in 
the  way  of  an  attendance  on  o  finances  ;  and  of  which  God  is  pleased 
commonly  to  make  his  ministers  the  instruments.  And  ministers  and 
their  people  now  meet  in  order  to  the  bringing  to  pass  snch  happy 
changes  ;  they  are  the  great  benefits  sought  in  their  solemn  meetings 
in  this  world. 

But  when  they  shall  meet  together  at  the  day  of  judgment,  it  will  be 
far  otherwise.  They  will  not  then  meet  in  order  to  the  use  of  means 
for  the  bringing  to  effect  any  such  changes  ;  for  they  will  all  meet  in 
an  unchansreable  state.  Sinners  will  be  in  an  unchangnble  state  : 
They  who  then  shall  be  under  the  guilt  and  power  of  sin,  and  have  the 
wrath  of  God  abiding  on  them,  shall  be  beyond  all  remedy  or  possibility 
of  change,  and  shall  meet  their  ministers  without  any  hopes  of  relief 
or  remedy,  or  getting  any  good  by  their  means.  And  as  for  the  saints, 
they  will  be  already  perfectly  delivered  from  all  their  before  remaining 
corruption,  temptation  and  calamities,  of  every  kind,  and  set  forever 
out  of^  their  reach  ;  and  no  deliverance,  no  happy  alteration  will  remain 
to  be  accomplished  in  the  way  of  the  use  of  means  of  grace,  under  the 
administration  of  m.inisters.  It  will  then  be  pronounced.  He  that  is 
unjust f  let  him  he  unjust  still;  and  he  that  is  flthi/,  let  him  be  filthy 

Veu  r.  80  * 


634  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

Still ;  and  he  that  is  righteous,  let  him  he  righteous  still;  and  he  that  «V 
holy,  let  him  he  holy  still. 

(2.)  Then  they  shall  meet  together  in  a  state  of  clear,  certain  and 
infallible  light. 

Ministers  are  set  as  guides  and  teachers,  and  are  represented  in 
Scripture  as  lights  set  up  in  the  churches  ;  and  in  the  present  state 
meet  their  people,  from  time  to  time,  in  order  to  instruct  and  enlighten 
them,  to  correct  their  mistakes,  and  to  be  a  voice  behind  them,  when 
they  turn  aside  to  the  right  hand  or  the  left,  saying.  This  is  the  wayf 
walk  ye  in  it ;  to  evince  and  confirm  the  ti'uth  by  exhibiting  the  pro- 
per evidences  of  it,  and  to  refute  errors  and  corrupt  opinions,  to  con- 
vince the  erroneous  and  establish  the  doubting.  But  when  Christ 
shall  come  to  Judgment,  every  error  and  false  opinion  shall  be  detect- 
ed :  all  deceit  and  delusion  shall  vanish  away  before  the  light  of  that 
day,  as  the  darkness  of  the  night  vanishes  at  the  appearance  of  the 
rising  sun  ;  and  every  doctrine  of  the  word  of  God  shall  then  appear 
in  full  evidence,  and  none  shall  remain  unconvinced  ;  all  shall  know 
the  truth  with  the  greatest  certainty,  and  there  shall  be  no  mistakes  to 
rectify. 

Now  ministers  and  their  people  may  disagree  in  their  judgments 
concerning  some  matters  of  religion,  and  may  sometimes  meet  to  con- 
fer together  concerning  those  things  wherein  they  differ,  and  to  hear 
the  reasons  that  may  be  offered  on  one  side  and  the  other  ;  and  all  may 
be  ineffectual,  as  to  any  conviction  of  the  truth  ;  they  may  meet  and 
part  again,  no  more  agreed  than  before  ;  and  that  side  which  was  in 
the  wrong,  may  remain  so  still :  Sometimes  the  meetings  of  ministers 
with  their  people,  in  such  a  case  of  disagreeing  sentiments,  are  attend- 
ed with  unhappy  debate  and  controversy,  managed  with  much  preju- 
dice, and  want  of  candour  ;  not  tending  to  light  and  conviction,  but 
rather  to  confirm  and  increase  darkness,  and  establish  opposition  to 
the  truth,  and  alienation  of  affection  one  from  another.  But  when 
they  shall  hereafter  meet  toaether,  at  t'le  day  of  Judgment,  before  the 
tribunal  of  the  great  Judge,  the  mind  and  will  of  Christ  will  be  made 
known  ;  and  there  shall  no  longer  be  any  debate,  or  difference  of  opin- 
ions ;  the  evidence  of  the  truth  shall  appear  beyond  all  dispute,  and  all 
controversies  shall  be  finally  and  forever  derided. 

Now  ministers  meet  their  people,  in  order  to  enlighten  and  awaken 
the  consciences  of  sinners  ;  setting  before  them  the  great  evil  and  dan- 
ger of  sin,  the  strictness  of  God's  law,  their  own  wickedness  of  heart, 
and  practice,  the  great  guilt  they  are  under,  the  wrath  that  abides  upon 
them,  and  their  impotence,  blindness,  poverty  and  helpless  and  undone 
condition  :  But  all  is  often  in  vain  ;  they  remain  still,  notwithstanding 
all  their  ministers  can  say,  stupid  and  unawakened,  and  their  conscien- 
ces unconvinced.  But  it  will  not  be  so  at  their  last  meeting  at  the  day 
of  Judgment  ;  sinners,  when  they  shall  meet  their  Judge,  will  not  meet 
him  with  a  stupid  conscience ;  they  will  then  be  fully  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  those  things,  which  they  formerly  heard  from  him,  concerning 
the  greatness  and  terrible  majesty  of  God,  his  holiness  and  hatred  of 
sin,  and  his  awful  justice,  in  punishing  it,  the  strictness  of  his  law, 
^nd  the  dreadfulness  and  truth  of  his  threatenings,  and  their  own  un- 
f^peakable  guilt  and -misery ;  and  they  shall  never  more  be  insensible  of 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  035 

these  things:  the  eyes  of  conscience  will  now  be  fully  enhghtened, 
and  never  shali  be  blinded  again  :  the  mouth  of  conscience  shall  now 
be  opened,  and  never  shall  be  shut  any  more. 

Now  ministers  meet  with  their  people,  in  public  and  private,  in  or- 
^er  to  enlighten  them  concerning  the  state  of  their  souls  ;  to  open  and 
apply  the  rules  of  God's  word  to  them,  in  onier  to  their  searchmg 
their  own  hearts,  and  discerning  the  state  that  they  are  in.     But  now, 
mmisters  have  no  mfallible  discerning  the  stale  of  the  souls  of  their 
people  ;  and  the  most  skilful  of  ihcui  are  liable  to  mistakes,  and  often 
are  mistaken  in  things  of  this  nature  ;  nor  are  the  people  able  certainly 
to  know  the  state  of  their  minister,  or  one  another's  state  ;  very  often, 
those  pass  among  them  for  saints,  and  it  may  be  eminent  saints,  that 
are  grand  hypocrites  ;  and  on  the  other  hand,  those  are  sometimes  cen- 
sured, or  hardly  received  into  their  charity,  that  are  indeed  some   of 
God's  jewels.     And  nothing  is  more  common,  than  for  men  to  be  mis- 
taken concerning  their  own  state  :  Many  that  are  abominable  to  God, 
and  the  children  of  his  wrath,  think  highly  of  themselves,  as  his  precious 
saints  and  dear  children.     Yea,  there  is  reason  to   think,   that  often 
some,  that  are  most  bold  in  their  confidence  of  their  safe  and  happy 
state,  and  think  themselves  not  only  true  saints,  but  the  most  eminent 
saints  in  the  congregation,  are,  in  a  peculiar  manner,  a  smoke  in  God's 
nose.     And  thus  it  undoubtedly  often  is,  in  those  congregations  where 
the  word  of  God  is  most  faithfully  dispensed  ;  notwithstanding  all  that 
ministers  can  say  in  their  clearest  explications,  and  most  searching  ap- 
plications of  the  doctrines  and  rules  of  God's  word  to  the  souls  of  their 
hearers,  in  their  meetings  one  with  another.     But,  in  the  day  of  Judg- 
ment, they  shall  have  another  sort  of  meeting ;  then  the  secrets  of  every 
heart  shall  be  made  manifest,  and  every  man's  state  shall  be  perfectly 
known.     I  Cor.  i^.  5.    Therefore  judge  nothing  before  the  time,  until 
the  Lord  come ;  who  both  will  bring  to  light  the  hidden  things  of  dark- 
ness, and  will  make  manifest  the  counsels  of  the  heart :  And  then  shall 
every  man  have  praise  of  God.     Then  none  shall  be  deceived  concern- 
ing hisown  state,  nor  shall  be  any  more  in  doubt  about  it.     There  shall 
be  an  eternal  end  to  all  the  self-conceit  and  vain  hopes  of  deluded  hy- 
pocrites, and  all  the  doubts  and  fears  of  sincere  christians.     And  then 
shall  all  know  the  state  of  one  another's  souls  :  the  people  shall  know 
whether  their  minister  has  been  sincere  and  faithful,  and  the   minister 
shall  know  the  state  of  every  one  of  their  people,  and  to  whom  the 
word  and  ordinances  of  God  have  been  a  savour  of  life  unto  life,  and 
to  whom  a  savour  of  death  unto  death. 

Now  in  this  present  state,  it  often  happens  that,  when  ministers  and 
people  meet  together,  to  debate  and  manage  their  ecclesiastical  afiairs, 
especially  in  a  state  of  controversy,  they  are  ready  to  judge  and  censure 
one  another,  with  regard  to  each  other's  views  and  designs,  and  the 
principles  and  ends  that  each  is  influenced  by^  and  are  greatly  mista- 
ken in  their  judgment,  and  wrong  one  another  in  their  censures  :  but 
at  that  future  meeting,  things  will  be  set  in  a  true  and  perfect  light, 
and  the  principles  and  aims,  that  every  one  has  acted  from,  shall  be 
certainly  known  ;  and  there  w'ill  be  an  end  to  all  errors  of  this  kind, 
and  all  unrighteous  censures. 

(3.)  In  this  world,  ministers  and  their  people  often  meet  to/rether, 


636  FAREWELL    SERMON.  ' 

to  hear  of,  and  wait  upon,  an  unseen  Lord  ;  but  at  the  day  of  Judg- 
ment, they  shall  meet  in  his  most  immediate  and  visible  presence. 

Ministers,  who  now  often  meet  their  people,  to  preach  to  them  the 
King  eternal,  immortal  and  invisible,  to  convince  them  that  there  is  a 
God,  and  declare  to  them  what .  anner  of  being  he  is,  and  to  convince 
them  that  he  governs,  and  will  judge,  the  world,  and  that  there  is  a  fu- 
ture state  of  rewards  and  punishments,  and  to  preach  to  them  a  Christ 
in  heaven,  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  in  an  unseen  world,  shall  then 
meet  their  people  in  rhe  most  immediate  sensible  presence  of  this  great 
God,  SaviOur  and  Judge,  appearing  in  the  most  plain,  visible  and  open 
manner,  with  great  glory,  w.th  all  his  holy  angels,  before  them  and  the 
whole  world.  They  shall  not  meet  them  to  hear  about  an  absent 
Christ,  an  unseen  Lord,  and  future  Judge  ;  but  to  appear  before  that 
Judge,  and  as  being  set  together  in  the  presence  of  that  supreme 
Lord,  in  his  immense  glory  and  awful  majesty,  whom  they  have  heard 
of  so  often,  in  their  meetings  together  on  earth. 

(4.)  The  meeting,  at  the  last  day,  of  ministers  and  the  people  that 
have  been  under  their  care,  will  not  be  attended,  by  any  one,  with  a 
careless  heedless  heart. 

With  such  a  heart  are  their  meetings  often  attended  in  this  world, 
by  many  persons,  having  little  regard  to  him  whom  they  pretend  uni- 
tedly to  adore,  in  the  solemn  duties  of  his  public  worship,  taking  little 
heed  to  their  own  thoughts  or  the  frame  of  their  minds,  not  attending  to 
the  business  they  are  engaged  in,  nor  considering  the  end  for  which  they 
are  come  together;  but  the  meetmg,  at  that  great  day,  will  be  very 
different ;  there  will  not  be  one  careless  heart,  no  sleeping,  no  wander- 
ing of  mind,  from  the  great  concern  of  the  meeting,  no  inattentiveness 
to  the  business  of  the  day,  no  regardlessness  of  the  presence  they  are 
in,  or  of  those  great  things  which  they  shall  hear  from  Christ  at  that 
meeting,  or  that  they  formerly  heard  fionri  him,  and  of  him,  by  their 
ministers,  in  their  meetings  in  a  state  of  trial,  or  which  they  shall  now 
hear  their  ministers  declaring  concerning  them,  before  their  Judge. 

Having  observed  these  things,  concerning  the  rnrmner  and  circum- 
stances of  this  future  meeting  of  ministers  and  the  people  that  have 
been  under  their  care,  before  the  tribunal  of  Christ,  at  the  day  of  Judg- 
ment, I  now  proceed, 

K.  To  observe,  to  what  purposes  they  shall  then  meet. 

1.  To  give  an  account  before  the  great  Judge,  of  their  behaviour 
one  to  another,  in  the  relation  they  stood  to  each  other  in  this  world. 

Ministers  are  sent  forth,  by  Christ,  to  their  people  on  his  business, 
are  his  servants  and  messengers  ;  and  when  they  have  finished  their 
service,  they  must  return  to  their  master,  to  give  him  an  account  of 
what  they  liave  done,  and  of  the  entertainment  they  have  had  in  per- 
formmg  their  ministry.  Tims  we  find,  in  Luke  xiv.  16 — 2l,  that  when 
the  servant,  who  was  sent  forth  to  call  the  guests  to  the  great  supper, 
had  done  his  errand,  and  finished  his  appomted  service,  he  returned  to 
his  master,  and  gave  him  an  account  of  what  he  had  done,  and  of  the 
entertainment  he  had  received.  And  when  the  master,  being  angry, 
sent  his  servant  to  others,  lie  returns  again,  and  gives  his  master  an  ac- 
count of  his  conduct  and  success.     So  we  read,  in  Hebrews,  xiv.  17, 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  657 

of  ministers  and  rulens  in  the  house  of  God,  That  watch  fm'  souls,  as 
thoo'e  that  must  give  account.  And  we  see  by  the  tbienientioni;d 
Luke  xiv.  that  tiiidisters  must  jj^ive  an  account  to  tijeir  master,  not  only 
of  their  own  behaviour  in  the  discharge  of  their  office,  but  also  of  their 
people's  reception  of  them,  and  of  the  treatment  they  have  met  wirh 
among  them. 

And  tneretore,  as  they  will  be  called  to  give  an  account  of  both, 
they  shall  give  an  ac'  ount  at  the  great  day  of  accounts,  in  the  pres- 
ence of  iheii  people  ;  they  and  their  people  being  both  present  before 
their  Judge. 

Faithful  ministers  will  then  give  an  account  with  joy,  concerning 
those  who  have  re-  eived  them  well,  and  made  a  good  improvement  of 
their  ministry  ;  and  these  will  be  given  them,  at  that  day,  as  their 
crown  of  rejoicing.  And  at  the  same  time  they  w  11  give  an  account 
of  the  ill-treatment,  of  such  as  have  not  well  received  them  and  their 
messages  from  Christ :  they  will  meet  these,  not  as  ihey  used  to  do  in 
this  world,  to  counsel  and  warn  them,  but  to  bear  witness  against  them, 
and  as  their  judges,  and  assessors  with  Christ,  to  condemn  tiiem  And 
on  the  other  hand,  the  people  will  at  that  day  rise  up  in  judgment 
against  wicked  and  unfaithful  m.inisters,  who  have  sought  their  own 
temporal  interest,  more  than  the  good  of  the  souls  of  iheir  fiock. 

2.  At  that  time  ministeis  and  the  people  who  have  been  under  their 
care,  shall  meet  before  Christ,  that  he  may  jndge  between  them,  as  to 
anv  controversies  which  have  subsisted  between  them  in  this  world. 

So  !t  very  often  comes  to  pass  in  this  evil  world,  that  great  difieren- 
ces  and  controversies  arise  between  ministers  and  the  people  that  are 
under  their  pastoral  care.  Though  they  are  under  the  greatest  obli- 
gations to  live  in  peace,  above  persons  in  almost  any  relation  what- 
ever ;  and  although  contests  and  dissensions,  betw  een  persor!=  so  rela- 
ted, are  the  most  unhappy  and  terrible  in  their  consecnjences,  on  many 
accounts,  of  any  sort  of  contentions  ;  yet  how  frequent  haves.ich  con- 
tentions been  ?  Sometimes  a  people  contest  with  their  niinislers  about 
their  doctrine,  sometimes  about  their  administrations  ai  d  copduct, 
and  sometimes  about  their  maintenance  ;  and  sometimes  such  contests 
continue  a  long  time  ;  and  sometimes  they  are  decided  in  this  world, 
according  to  the  prevailing  interest  of  one  party  or  the  other,  rather 
than  by  the  word  of  God,  and  the  reason  of  things  ;  and  sometiiues 
such  controversies  never  have  any  proper  determination  in  this  wos  Id. 

But  at  theday  of  judgment  there  will  he  a  full,  perfect  and  everlnst- 
ing,  decision  of  them  :  the  infallible  Judge,  the  infinite  Fountain  of 
light,  truth  and  justice,  will  judoe  between  the  contendino-  parties,  and 
wdl  declare  what  is  the  truth,  who  is  in  the  right,  and  what  is  agreea- 
ble to  his  mind  and  will.  And,  in  order  hereto,  the  parties  must  stand 
together  before  Him  at  the  last  day  ;  which  will  be  the  great  day  of 
finishinsT  and  determining  all  controversies,  rectifying  all  mistakes,  and 
abolishino-  all  unrighteous  judgments,  errors  and  confusions,  wliich 
have  before  subsisted  in  the  world  of  mankind. 

3.  Ministers  and  the  people  that  have  been  under  their  care,  must 
meet  together  at  that  time,  to  receive  an  eternal  sentence  and  retri- 
bution from  the  Judge,  in  the  presence  of  each  other,  according  to 


(53^  1' ABE  WELL    SERMON. 

their  behaviour  in  the  relation  they  stood  in  to  one  another  m  the  pre- 
sent state. 

The  Judge  will  not  only  declare  justice,  but  he  will  do  justice  be- 
tween ministers  and  their  people.     He  will  declare  what  is  right  be- 
tween them,  approving  him  that  has  been  just  and  faithful,  and  con- 
demning the  unjust ;  and  perfect  truth  and  equity  shall  take  place  in 
the  sentence  which  He  passes,  in  the  rewards  He  bestows,  and  the 
punishments  which  He  inflicts.     There  shall  be  a  glorious  reward  to 
faithful  ministers.     To  those  who  have  been  successful ;  Dan.  xii.  3. 
And  they  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as  the  brightness  of  the  firmament^ 
and  they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness ,  as  the  stars  forever  and 
ever :  And  also  to  those  who  have  been  faithful,  and  yet  not  success- 
ful ;  Isai.  xlix.  4.     Then  I  said,  I  have  laboured  in  vain^  I  have  spent 
my  strength  for  nought ;  yet  surely  my  judgment  is  with  the  Lord,  and 
my  reward  with  my  God.  And  those,  who  have  well  received  and  enter- 
tained them,  shall  be  gloriously  rewarded  ;  Matth.  x.  40.     He  thai  re- 
ceiveth  you,  receiveth  me,  and  he  that  receiveth  me,  receiveth  him  that 
sent  me.     He  that  receiveth  a  prophet,  in  the  name  of  a  prophet,  shall 
receive  a  prophet's  reward ;  and  he  that  receiveth  a  righteous  man,  in 
the  name  of  a  righteous  man,  shall  receive  a  righteous  man's  reward. 
Such  people,  and  their  faithful  ministers,  shall  be  each  other's  ciown 
of  rejoicing  :    1  Thess.  ii.  19,  20.     For  wfiat  is  our  hope,  or  joy.  or 
crown  of  rejoicing  ?     Are  not  even  ye,  in  the  presence  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  at  his  coming?  For  ye  are  our  glory  and  joy.     And  in 
the  text,  We  are  your  rejoicing,  as  ye  also  are  ours,  in  the  day  of  the 
Lord  Jesus.     But  they,  that  evil  intreat  Christ's  faithful  ministers,  es- 
pecially in  that  wherein  they  are  faiihful,  shall  be  severely  punished  ; 
Matth.  X.  14,  15.  And  whosoever  shall  not  receive  you,  nor  hear  your 
words,  when  ye  depart  out  of  that  house  or  city,  shake  off  the  dust  of 
your  feet.      Verily,  I  say  unto  you,  It  shall  be  more  tolerable  for  the 
sinners  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah,  in  the  day  of  Judgment,  than  for  that 
city.     Deut.  xxxiii.  8 — U.   And  of  Levi  he  said.  Let  thy  Thummim 
and  thy  Urim  be  with  thy  holy  one. —  They  shall  teach  Jacob  thy  judg- 
ments, and  Israel  thy  laic.     Bless,  Lord,  his  substance,  and  accept  the 
work  of  his  hands:  smite  through  the  loins  of  them  that  rise  up  against 
hhn,  and  of  them  that  hate  him,  that  they  rise  not  again.     On  the  other 
hand,  those  ministers  who  are  found  to  have  been  unfaithful,  shall  have 
a  most   terrible   punishment.     See  Ezekiel  xxxiii.  6.     Matth.  xxiii. 
1—33. 

Thus  justice  shall  be  administeied,  at  the  great  day,  to  ministers 
and  their  people  :  and  to  that  end  they  shall  meet  together,  that  they 
may  not  only  receive  justice  to  themselves,  but  see  justice  done  to  the 
other  party  :  for  this  is  the  end  of  that  great  day,  to  reveal,  or  declare 
the  righteous  judgment  of  God  ;  Rom,  ii.  5.  Ministers  shall  have  jus- 
tice done  them,  and  they  shall  see  justice  done  to  their  people  :  and 
the  people  shall  receive  justice  themselves  from  their  Judge,  and  shall 
see  justice  done  to  their  minister.  And  so  all  things  will  be  adjusted 
and  settled  forever  between  them  ;  every  one  being  sentenced  and  re- 
compensed according  to  his  works  ;  either  in  receiving  and  wearing  a 
crown  of  eternal  joy  and  glory,  or  in  suffering  everlasting  shame  and 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  639 

1  come  now  to  the  next  thing  proposed,  viz. 

III.  To  give  some  reasons,  why  we  may  suppose  God  has  so  order- 
ed it  that  ministers,  and  the  people  that  have  been  under  their  care, 
shall  meet  together  at  the  day  of  judgment,  in  such  a  manner  and  for 
such  purposes. 

There  are  two  things  which  I  would  now  observe. 

1.  The  mutual  concerns  of  ministers  and  their  people  are  of  the 
greatest  importance. 

The  Scripture  declares,  that  God  will  bring  every  work  into  judg- 
ment, with  every  secret  thing,  whether  it  be  good,  or  whether  it  be 
evil.  It  is  fit  that  all  the  concerns,  and  all  the  behaviour  of  manllind, 
both  pubhc  and  private,  should  be  brought  at  last  before  God's  tribu- 
nal, and  finally  determined  by  an  mfalhble  Judge  :  but  it  is  especially 
requisite,  that  it  should  be  thus,  as  to  affairs  of  very  great  importance. 

Now  the  mutual  concerns  of  a  christian  minister,  and  his  church  and 
congregation,  are  of  the  vastest  importance  ;  in  many  respects,  of 
much  greater  moment  than  the  temporal  concerns  of  the  greatest 
earthly  monarchs,  and  their  kingdoms  and  empires.  It  is  of  vast  con- 
sequence how  ministers  discharge  their  office,  and  conduct  themselves 
towards  their  people  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  in  aflfairs  apper- 
taining to  it.  It  is  also  a  matter  of  vast  importance  how  a  people  re- 
ceive and  entertain  a  faithful  minister  of  Christ,  and  what  improve- 
ment they  make  of  his  ministry.  These  things  have  a  more  immediate 
and  direct  respect  to  the  great  and  last  end  for  which  man  was  made, 
and  the  eternal  welfare  of  mankind,  than  any  of  the  temporal  concerns 
of  men,  whether  pubhc  or  private.  And  therefore  it  is  especially  fit, 
that  these  affairs  should  be  brought  into  Judgment,  and  openly  deter- 
mined and  settled,  in  truth  and  righteousness  ;  and  that,  to  this  end, 
ministers  and  their  people  should  meet  together,  before  the  omniscient 
and  infallible  Judge. 

2.  The  mutual  concerns  of  ministers  and  their  people  have  a  special 
relation  to  the  main  things,  appertaining  to  the  day  of  Judgment. 

They  have  a  special  relation  to  that  great  and  divine  person,  who 
will  then  appear  as  Judge.  Ministers  are  his  messengers,  sent  forth 
by  Him  ;  and  in  their  office  and  administrations  among  their  people, 
represent  his  person,  stand  in  his  stead,  as  those  that  are  sent  to  declare 
his  mind,  to  do  his  work,  and  to  speak  and  act  in  his  name  :  and 
therefore  it  is  especially  fit  that  they  should  return  to  him,  to 
give  an  account  of  their  work  and  success.  The  king  is  judge  of 
all  his  subjects,  they  are  all  accountable  to  him  :  but  it  is  more 
especially  requisite  that  the  king'^s  ministers,  who  are  especially  in- 
trusted with  the  administrations  of  his  kingdom,  and  that  are  sent 
forth  on  some  special  negotiation,  should  return  to  him,  to  give  an 
account  of  themselves,  and  their  discharge  of  their  trust,  and  the 
receptic»n  they  have  met  with. 

Ministers  are  not  only  messengers  of  the  person  who  at  the  last  day 
will  appear  as  judge,  but  the  errand  they  are  sent  upon,  and  the  affairs 
they  have  committed  to  them  as  his  ministers,  do  most  immediately 
concern  his  honour,  and  the  interest  of  his  kingdom  :  the  work  they 
are  sent  upon,  is  to  promote  the  designs  of  hi?  administration  and  go 


640  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

vernment :  and  therefore  their  business  with  their  people,  has  a  near 
relation  to  the  day  of  judijment ;  for  the  great  end  of  that  day  is  com- 
pletely to  settle  and  establish  the  aifairs  of  his  k  ngdom,  to  adjust  alt 
things  that  pertain  to  it,  that  every  thing  that  is  opposite  to  the  interests 
of  his  kintjfdom  may  be  removed,  and  that  every  thing  which  contri- 
butes to  the  '  ompleteness  and  glory  of  it,  may  be  perfected  and  con- 
lirmed,  that  this  great  king  may  receive  his  due  honour  and  glory. 

Again,  the  mutual  concerns  of  ministers  and  their  people,  have  a 
direct  relation  to  the  concerns  of  the  day  of  judgment,  as  the  busi- 
ness of  ministers  with  their  people,  is  to  promote  the  eternal  salvation 
of  the  souls  of  men,  and  their  escape  from  eternal  damnation  :  and 
the  day  of  judgment  is  the  day  appointed  for  that  end,  openly  to 
decide  and  settle  men's  eternal  state,  to  fix  some  in  a  state  of  eternal 
salvation,  and  to  bring  their  salvation  to  its  utmost  consummation, 
and  to  fix  others  in  a  state  of  everlasting  damnation  and  most  per- 
fect misery.  The  mutual  concerns  of  ministers  and  people,  have 
a  most  direct  relation  to  the  day  of  judgment,  as  the  very  design 
of  the  work  of  the  ministry  is  the  people's  preparation  for  that 
day:  ministers  are  sent  to  warn  them  of  the  approach  of  that  day,  to 
forewarn  them  of  the  dreadful  sentence  then  to  be  pronounced  on  the 
wicked,  and  declare  to  them  the  blessed  sentence  then  to  be  pronounced 
on  the  righteous,  and  to  use  means  with  them,  that  they  may  es- 
cape the  wrath,  \v\\\q,\\  is  then  to  come  on  the  ungodly,  and  obtain 
the  reward  then  to  be  bestowed  on  ihe  saints. 

And,  as  the  mutual  roneerns  of  ministers  and  their  people  have 
so  near  and  du-ect  a  relation  to  that  day,  it  is  especially  fit,  that 
those  concerns  should  be  brought  into  that  day,  and  there  settled 
and  issued  ;  and  that,  in  order  to  this,  ministers  and  their  people 
should  meet  and  appear  together  before  the  great  Judge,  at  that  day. 


APPLICATION. 

The  improvement  I  would  make  of  the  things  which  have  beei> 
observed,  is  to  lead  the  people  here  present,  who  have  been  under 
my  pastoral  care,  to  some  reflections,  and  to  give  them  some  advice, 
suitable  to  our  present  circumstances  ;  relating  to  what  has  been 
lately  done,  in  order  to  our  being  separated,  as  to  the  relation  we 
have  heretofore  stood  in  one  to  another  ;  but  expecting  to  meet  each 
other  before  the  great  tribunal  at  the  day  of  judgment. 

The  deep  and  serious  consideration  of  that  our  future  most  so- 
lemn meeting,  is  certainly  most  suitable  at  such  a  time  as  this  : 
there  having  so  lately  been  that  done,  which,  in  all  probability,  will 
(as  to  the  relation  v.'e  have  heretofore  stood  in)  be  followed  with 
an  everlasting  separation. 

How  often  have  we  met  together  in  the  house  of  God,  in  this 
relation  ?  How  often  have  I  spoken  to  you,  instructed,  counselled, 
warned,  directed  and  fed  you,  and  administered  ordinances  among 
you,  as  the  people  which  were  committed  to  my  care,  and  whose 
precious  souls  I  had  the  charge  of?  But  in  all  probability,  this 
never  will  be  again. 


i 


parewelL  sermon.  641 

The  prophet  Jeremiah,  (chap.  xxv.  3.)  puts  the  people  in  mind  how 
iong  he  had  laboured  among  them  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  ;  From 
the  thirteenth  year  of  Josiah,  the  son  ofAmon,  king  ofJudahy  even  unto 
this  day,  {that  is,  the  three  and  twentieth  year,)  the  word  of  the  Lord 
came  unto  me,  and  I  have  spoken  unto  you,  rising  early  and  speaking. 
I  am  not  about  to  compare  myself  with  the  prophet  Jeremiah  ;  but  m 
this  respect  I  can  say  as  he  did,  that  I  have  spoken  the  word  of  God 
to  you,  unto  the  three  and  tiventiefh  year,  rising  early  and  speaking. 
It  was  three  and  twenty  years,  the  15th  day  of  last  February,  since  I 
have  laboured  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  in  the  relation  of  a  pastor  to 
this  church  and  congregation.  And  though  my  strength  has  been 
weakness,  having  always  laboured  under  great  infirmity  of  body,  be- 
side my  insufficiency  for  so  great  a  charge,  in  other  respects,  yet  I 
have  not  spared  my  feeble  strength,  but  have  exerted  it  for  the  good  of 
your  souls.  I  can  appeal  to  you,  as  the  apostle  does  to  his  hearers, 
Gal.  iv.  13.  Ye  know  how  through  infirmity  of  the  fiesh,  I  preached  the 
Gospel  unto  you.  1  have  spent  the  prime  of  my  life  and  strength,  in 
labours  for  your  eternal  welfare.  You  are  my  witnesses,  that  what 
strength  I  have  had  I  have  not  neglected  in  idleness,  nor  laid  out  in 
prosecuting  worldly  schemes,  and  managing  temporal  affairs,  for  the 
advancement  of  my  outward  estate,  and  aggrandizing  myself  and  fami- 
ly ;  but  have  given  myself  to  the  work  of  the  ministry,  labouring  in  it 
night  and  day,  rising  early  and  applying  myself  to  this  great  business 
to  which  Christ  appointed  me.  I  have  found  the  work  of  the  ministry 
among  you  to  be  a  great  work  indeed,  a  work  of  exceeding  care,  la- 
bour and  difficulty :  many  have  been  the  heavy  burdens  that  I  have 
borne  in  it,  which  my  strength  has  been  very  unequal  to.  GOD  called 
me  to  bear  these  burdens,  and  I  bless  his  name,  that  he  has  so  suppor- 
ted me  as  to  keep  me  from  sinking  under  them,  and  that  his  power 
herein  has  been  manifested  in  my  weakness  ;  so  that  although  I  have 
often  been  troubled  on  every  side,  yet  I  have  not  been  distressed  ;  per- 
plexed, but  not  in  despair  ;  cast  down,  but  not  destroyed. 

But  now  I  have  reason  to  think,  my  work  is  finished  which  I  had  to 
do  as  your  minister :  you  have  publicly  rejected  me,  and  my  opportu- 
nities cease. 

How  highly  therefore  does  it  now  become  us,  to  consider  of  that 
time  when  we  must  meet  one  another  before  the  chief  Shepherd  ? 
When  I  must  give  an  account  of  my  stewardship,  of  the  service  I  have 
done/or,  and  the  reception  and  treatment  I  have  had  among,  the 
people  he  sent  me  to :  and  you  must  give  an  account  of  your  own 
conduct  towards  me,  and  the  improvement  you  have  made  of  these 
three  and  twenty  years  of  my  njinistry.  For  then  both  you  and  I  must 
appear  together,  and  we  both  must  give  an  account,  in  order  to  an  in- 
fallible, righteous  and  eternal,  sentence  to  be  passed  upon  us,  by  him 
who  will  judge  us,  with  respect  to  all  that  we  have  said  or  done  in  our 
meetings  here,  all  our  conduct  one  towards  another,  in  the  house  of 
God  and  elsewhere,  on  sabbath-days  and  on  other  days  ;  who  will  try 
(  ur  hearts,  and  manifest  our  thoughts,  and  the  principles  and  frames  of 
our  minds,  will  judge  us  with  respect  to  all  the  controversies  which 
have  subsisted  between  us,  with  the  strictest  impartiality,  and  will  exa- 
«  ine  our  treatment  of  each  other   in  those  controversies:    there  r« 

Vol.  I.  «1 


64i  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

nothing  covered,  that  shall  not  be  revealed,  nor  hid,  which  shall  not  be 
known  ;  all  will  be  examined  in  the  searching,  penetrating  light  of 
God's  omniscience  and  glory,  and  by  him  whose  eyes  are  as  a  flame  of 
fire  ;  and  truth  and  right  shall  be  made  plainly  to  appear,  being  strip- 
ped of  every  veil ;  and  all  error,  falsehood,  unrighteousness  and  injury, 
shall  belaid  open,  stripped  of  every  disguise  ;  every  specious  pretence, 
every  cavil,  and  all  false  reasoning,  shall  vanish  in  a  moment,  as  not 
being  able  to  bear  the  light  of  that  day.  And  then  our  hearts  will  be 
turned  inside  out,  and  the  secrets  of  them  will  be  made  more  plainly  to 
appear  than  our  outward  actions  do  now.  Then  it  shall  appear  what 
the  ends  are,  which  we  have  aimed  at,  what  have  been  the  governing 
principles  which  we  have  acted  from,  and  what  have  been  the  disposi- 
tions, we  have  exercised  in  our  ecclesiastical  disputes  and  contests. 
Then  it  will  appear,  whether  1  a('ted  uprightly,  and  from  a  truly  con- 
scientious careful,  regard  to  my  duty  to  my  great  Lord  and  master,  in 
some  former  ecclesiastical  controversies,  which  have  been  attended 
with  exceeding  unhappy  circumstances,  and  consequences  :  it  will  ap- 
pear, whether  there  was  any  just  cause  for  the  resentment  which  was 
manifested  on  those  occasions.  And  then  our  late  grand  controversy, 
concerning  the  Qualifications  necessary  for  admission  to  the  privileges 
of  members,  in  complete  standing,  in  the  Visible  Church  of  Christ, 
will  be  examined  and  judged,  in  all  its  parts  and  circumstances,  and 
the  whole  set  forth  in  a  c  lear,  certain  and  perfect  light.  Then  it  will 
appear,  whether  the  doctrine,  which  I  have  preached  and  published, 
concerning  this  matter,  be  Christ's  own  doctrine,  whether  he  will  not 
own  it  as  one  of  the  precious  truths  which  have  proceeded  from  his 
own  mouth,  and  vindicate  and  honour,  as  such,  before  the  whole  uni- 
verse. Then  it  will  appear,  what  was  meant  by  the  man  that  comes 
without  the  wedding  garment ;  for  that  is  the  day  spoken  of,  Matt, 
xxii.  13.  wherein  such  an  one  shall  be  bound  hand  and  foot,  and  cast 
into  outer  darkness,  where  shall  be  weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth. 
And  then  it  will  appear,  whether,  in  declaring  this  doctrine,  and  act- 
ing agreeably  to  it,  and  in  my  general  conduct  in  this  affair,  I  have 
been  influenced  from  any  regard  to  my  own  temporal  interest,  or  ho- 
nour, or  any  desire  to  appear  wiser  than  others  ;  or  have  acted  from 
any  sinister,  secular  views  whatsoever  ;  and  whether  what  I  have  done 
has  not  been  from  a  careful,  strict  and  tender  regard  to  the  will  of  my 
Lord  and  Master,  and  because  I  dare  not  offend  him,  being  satisfied 
what  his  will  was,  after  a  long,  diligent,  impartial  and  prayerful,  en- 
quiry ;  having  this  constantly  in  view  and  prospect,  to  engage  me  to 
great  solicitude,  not  rashly  to  determine  truth  to  be  on  this  side  of  the 
question,  where  I  am  now  persuaded  it  is,  that  such  a  determination 
would  not  be  for  my  temporal  interest,  but  every  way  against  it,  bring- 
ing a  long  series  of  extreme  difficulties,  and  plunging  me  into  an  abyss 
of  trouble  and  sorrow.  And  then  it  will  appear,  whether  my  people 
have  done  their  duty  to  their  pastor,  with  respect  to  this  matter  ;  whe- 
ther they  have  shown  a  right  temper  and  spirit  on  this  occasion  ;  whe- 
ther they  have  done  me  justice  in  hearing,  attending  to,  and  consider- 
ing, what  I  had  to  say  in  evidence  of  what  I  believed  and  taught,  as 
part  of  the  counsel  of  God  ;  whether  I  have  been  treated  with  that 
impartiality,  candour  and  regard,  which  the  just  Judge  esteemed  due  ; 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  643 

and  whether,  in  the  many  steps  which  have  been  taken,  and  the  many 
thmgs  that  have  been  said  and  done,  in  the  course  of  this  controversy, 
righteousness  and  charity  and  christian  decorum  have  been  maintain- 
ed :  or,  if  otherwise,  to  how  great  a  degree  these  things  have  been 
violated.  Then  every  step  of  the  conduct  of  each  of  us,  in  this  af- 
fair, from  first  to  last,  and  the  spirit  we  have  exercised  in  all,  shall 
1>e  examined  and  manifested,  and  our  own  consciences  will  speak 
plain  and  loud,  and  each  of  us  shall  be  convinced,  and  the  world 
shall  know  ;  and  never  shall  there  be  any  more  mistake,  misrepresen  ■ 
tation  or  misapprehension  of  the  affair,  to  eternity. 

This  controversy  is  now  probably  brought  to  an  issue,  between  you 
and  me,  as  to  this  world  ;  it  has  issued  in  the  event  of  the  week 
before  last ;  but  it  must  have  another  decision  at  that  great  day, 
which  certainly  will  come,  when  you  and  I  shall  meet  together  before 
the  great  judgment  seat :  and  therefoie  I  leave  it  to  that  time,  and 
shall  say  no  more  about  it  at  present. 

But  I  would  now  proceed  to  address  myself  particularly  to  several 
sorts  of  persons. 

I.  To  those  who  are  professors  of  godliness  among  us. 
I  would  now  call  you  to  a  serious  consideration  of  that  great  day, 
wherein  you  must  meet  him,  who  has  heretofore  been  your  pastor, 
before  the  Judge,  whose  eyes  areas  a  flame  of  fire. 

I  have  endeavoured,  according  to  my  best  ability,  to  search  the 
word  of  God,  with  regard  to  the  distinguishing  notes  of  true  piety, 
those  by  which  persons  might  best  discover  their  state,  and  most 
surely  and  clearly  judge  of  themselves.  And  those  rules  and  marks, 
1  have  from  time  to  time,  applied  to  you,  in  the  preaching  of  the  word, 
to  the  utmost  of  my  skill,  and  in  the  most  plain  and  searching  manner, 
that  I  have  been  able  ;  in  order  to  the  detecting  the  deceived  hypo- 
crite, and  estabhshing  the  hopes  and  comforts  of  the  sincere.  And 
yet  it  is  to  be  feared,  that  after  all  that  I  have  done,  I  now  leave  some 
of  you  in  a  deceived  deluded  state ;  for  it  is  not  to  be  supposed,  that 
among  several  handred  professors,  none  are  deceived. 

Henceforward,  I  am  like  to  have  no  more  opportunity  to  take  the 
c?re  and  charge  of  your  souls,  to  examine  and  search  them.  But  still 
I  intreat  you  to  remember  and  consider  the  rules  which  I  have  often 
laid  down  to  you,  during  my  ministry,  with  a  solemn  regard  to  the  fu- 
ture day,  when  you  and  I  must  meet  together  before  our  Judge  ;  when 
the  uses  of  examination  you  have  heard  from  me,  must  be  rehearsed 
again  before  you,  and  those  rules  of  trial  must  be  tried,  and  it  will  ap- 
pear, whether  they  have  been  good  or  not ;  and  it  will  also  appear, 
whether  you  have  impartially  heard  them,  and  tried  yourselves  by 
them  ;  and  the  Judge  himself,  who  is  infallible,  will  try  both  you  and 
me  :  and  after  this,  none  will  be  deceived  concerning  the  state  of  their 
souls. 

I  have  often  put  you  in  mind,  that  whatever  your  pretences  to  expe- 
riences, discoveries,  comforts,  and  joys,  have  been  ;  at  that  day,  every 
one  will  be  judged  according  to  his  works  :  and  then  you  will  find 
it  so. 

May  you  have  a  minister  of  greater  knowledge  of  the  word  of  God. 
and  better  acquaintance  with  soul  capes,  and  of  greater  skill  in  apply- 


644  FAREWELL    SREMON. 

ing  himself  to  souls,  whose  discourses  may  be  more  searching  and 
convincing  ;  that  such  of  you  as  have  held  fast  deceit  under  my 
preaching,  may  have  your  eyes  opened  by  his ;  that  you  may  be  un- 
deceived before  that  great  day. 

What  means  and  helps  for  instruction  and  self-examination,  you 
may  hereafter  have,  is  uncertain  ;  but  one  thing  is  certain,  that  the 
time  is  short ;  your  opportunity  for  rectifying  mistakes  in  so  impor- 
tant a  concern,  will  soon  come  to  an  end.  We  live  in  a  world  of 
great  changes.  There  is  now  a  great  change  come  to  pass  ;  you 
have  withdrawn  yourselves  from  my  ministry,  under  which  you  have 
continued  for  so  many  years  :  but  the  time  is  coming,  and  will  soon 
come,  when  you  will  pass  out  of  time  into  eternity  ;  and  so  will  pass 
from  under  all  means  of  grace  whatsoever. 

The  greater  part  of  you  who  are  professors  of  godliness,  have,  (to 
use  the  phrase  of  the  apostle,)  acknowledged  me  in  part.  You  have 
heretofore  acknowledged  me  to  be  your  spiritual  father,  the  instru- 
ment of  the  greatest  good  to  you,  that  ever  is,  or  can  be,  obtained,  by 
any  of  the  children  of  men.  Consider  of  that  day,  when  you  and  1 
shall  meet  before  our  Judge,  when  it  shall  be  examined,  whether  you 
have  had  from  me  the  treatment  which  is  due  to  spiritual  children,  and 
whether  you  have  treated  me,  as  you  ought  to  have  treated  a  spiritual 
father. — As  the  relation  of  a  natural  parent  brings  great  obhgations  on 
children,  in  the  sight  of  God  ;  so  much  more,  in  many  respects,  does 
the  relation  of  a  spiritual  father,  bring  great  obligations  on  such,  whose 
conversion  and  eternal  salvation  they  suppose  God  has  made  them  the 
instruments  of ;  1  Cor.  iv.  15.  For  though  you  have  ten  thousand 
instructors  in  Christ,  yet  hcive  ye  not  many  fathers  ;  for  in  Christ  Je- 
sus, I  have  begotten  you  through  the  gospel. 

II.  Now  I  am  taking  my  leave  of  this  people,  I  would  apply  myself 
to  such  among  them  as  I  leave  in  a  christless,  graceless  condition  ; 
and  would  call  on -such,  seriously  to  consider  of  that  solemn  day,  when 
they  and  I  must  meet  before  the  Judge  of  the  world. 

My  parting  with  you,  is  in  some  respects,  in  a  pecuhar  manner,  a 
melancholy  parting  ;  in  as  much  as  I  leave  you  in  the  most  melan- 
choly circumstances,  because  I  leave  you  in  the  gall  of  bitter- 
ness, and  bond  of  iniquity,  having  the  wrath  of  God  abiding  on  you, 
and  remaining  under  condemnation  to  everlasting  misery  and  de- 
struction. Seeing  1  must  leave  you,  it  would  have  been  a  comforta- 
ble and  happy  circumstance  of  our  parting,  if  I  had  left  you  in  Christ, 
safe  and  blessed  in  that  sure  refuge  and  glorious  rest  of  the  saints. — 
But  it  is  otherwise,  I  leave  you  far  oH]  aliens  and  strangers,  wretched 
subjects  and  captives  of  sin  and  satan,  and  prisoners  of  vindictive  jus- 
tice ;  without  Christ,  and  without  God  in  the  world. 

Your  consciences  bear  me  witness,  that  while  I  had  opportunity,  I 
have  not  ceased  to  warn  you,  and  set  before  you  your  danger.  I  have 
studied  to  represent  the  misery  and  necessity  of  your  circumstances,  in 
the  clearest  manner  possible.  I  have  tried  all  ways,  that  I  could  think 
of,  tendincr  to  awaken  your  consciences,  and  make  you  sensible  of  the 
necessity  of  your  improving  your  time,  and  being  speedy  in  fleeing  from 
the  wrath  to  come,  and  thorough  in  the  use  of  means  for  your  escape 
and  safety.  I  have  diligently  endeavoured  to  find  out,  and  use,  the  most 
powerful  motives,  to  persuade  fou  to  take  care  for  your  own  welfare 


FAREWELL   SERMON.  645 

and  salvation.  I  have  not  only  endeavoured  to  awaken  you,  that  you 
might  be  moved  with  fear,  but  1  have  used  my  utmost  endeavours  to 
win  3'ou  :  I  have  sought  out  acceptable  words,  that  if  possible,  I  might 
prevail  upon  you  to  forsake  sin,  and  turn  to  Godj  and  accept  of  Clirist 
as  your  Saviour  and  Lord.  I  have  spent  my  strength  very  much,  in 
these  things.  Eut  yet,  with  regard  to  you  whom  1  am  now  speaking 
to,  I  have  not  been  successful :  but  have  this  day  reason  to  complain 
in  those  wotds,  Jer.  vi.  29.  The  bellows  are  burnt,  the  lead  is  consu- 
med of  the  fire,  the  founder  melteth  in  vain,  for  the  wicked  are  not  pluck- 
ed away.  It  is  to  be  feared,  that  all  my  labours,  as  to  many  of  you, 
have  served  to  no  other  purpose  but  to  harden  you  ;  and  that  the 
word  which  1  have  preached,  instead  of  being  a  savour  of  life  unto  life, 
has  been  a  savour  of  death  unto  death.  Though  I  shall  not  have  any 
account  to  give  for  the  future,  of  such  as  have  openly  and  resolutely 
renoun«  ed  my  ministry,  as  of  a  betrustment  committed  to  me  :  yet  re- 
member you  must  give  account  for  yourselves,  of  your  care  of  your 
own  souls,  and  your  improvement  of  all  means  past  and  future,  through 
your  whole  lives.  God  only  knows  what  will  become  of  your  poor 
perishing  souls,  what  means  you  may  hereafter  enjoy,  or  what  disad- 
vantages and  temptations  you  may  be  under.  May  God  in  mercy 
grant,  that  however  all  past  means  have  been  unsuccessful,  ypu  may 
have  future  means,  which  may  have  a  new  effect ;  and  that  the  word 
of  God,  as  it  shall  be  hereafter  dispensed  to  you,  may  prove  as  the  fire 
an :i  the  hammer  that  breaketh  the  rock  in  pieces.  However,  let  me 
now  at  parting,  exhort  and  beseech  you,  not  wholly  to  forget  the  warn- 
ings you  have  had  while  under  my  ministry.  When  you  and  I  shall 
meet  at  the  day  of  judgment,  then  you  will  remember  them  :  the  sight 
of  me  your  former  minister,  on  that  occasion,  will  soon  revive  them  in 
your  memory  ;  and  that  in  a  very  affecting  manner.  O  do  not  let  that 
be  the  first  time  that  they  are  so  revived. 

You  and  I  are  now  parting  one  from  another  as  to  this  world  ;  let  us 
labour  that  we  may  not  be  parted,  after  our  meeting  at  the  last  day.  If 
I  have  been  your  faithful  pastor,  (which  will  that  day  appear,  whether 
I  have  or  no,)  then  I  shall  be  acquitted,  and  shall  ascend  with  Christ. 
O  do  your  part,  that  in  such  a  case,  it  may  not  be  so,  that  you  should 
be  forced  eternally  to  part  from  me,  and  all  that  have  been  faithful  in 
Clirist  Jesus.  This  is  a  sorrowful  parting,  that  now  is  between  you  and 
me  ;  but  that  would  be  a  more  sorrowful  parting  to  you  than  this. 
This  you  may  perhaps  bear  without  being  much  aflfbcted  with  it,  if  you 
are  not  glad  of  it  ;  but  such  a  parting,  in  that  day,  will  most  deeply, 
sensibly  and  dreadfully,  affect  you. 

III.  I  would  address  myself  to  those  who  are  under  some  awaken- 
ings. 

Blessed  be  God,  that  there  are  some  such,  and  that  (although  I  have 
reason  to  fear  I  leave  multitudes,  in  this  large  congregation,  in  a  christ- 
less  state,)  yet  I  do  not  leave  them  all  in  total  stupidity  and  careless- 
ness, about  their  souls.  Some  of  you,  that  I  have  reason  to  hope  are 
under  some  awakenings,  have  acquainted  me  with  your  circumstances  ; 
which  has  a  tendency  to  cause  me,  now  I  am  leaving  you,  to  take  my 
leave  of  you  with  peculiar  concern  for  you.  What  will  be  the  issue  of 
vour  present  exercise  of  mind,  I  know  not :  but  it  will  be  known  at 


04(J  KARKWELL    SfiilM@N. 

that  day,  when  you  and  I  shall  meet  before  the  judgment  seat  of  Christ, 
Therefore  now  be  much  m  consideration  of  that  day. 

Now  I  am  parting  with  this  flock,  I  would  once  more  press  upon 
you  the  counsels  I  have  heretofore  given,  to  take  heed  of  being  slighty 
in  so  great  a  concern,  to  be  thorough  and  in  good  earnest  in  the  affair, 
and  to  beware  of  backsliding,  to  hold  on  and  hold  out  to  the  end* 
And  cry  mightily  to  God,  that  these  great  changes,  that  pass  over  this 
church  and  congregation,  do  not  prove  your  overthrow.  There  is 
great  temptation  in  them  ;  and  the  devil  will  undoubtedly  seek  to  make 
his  advantage  of  them,  if  possible,  to  cause  your  present  convictions 
and  endeavours  to  be  abortive.  You  had  need  to  double  your  dili- 
gence, and  watch  and  pray,  lest  you  be  overcome  by  temptation. 

Whoever  may  hereafter  stand  related  to  you,  as  yourjspiritual  guide, 
my  desire  and  prayer  is,  that  the  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep  would 
have  a  special  respect  to  you,  and  be  your  guide,  (for  there  is  none 
teacheth  like  him,)  and  that  he  who  is  the  mfinite  Fountain  of  light, 
would  open  your  eyes,  and  turn  you  from  darkness  unto  light,  andfrom 
the  power  of  Satan  unto  God ;  that  you  may  receive  forgiveness  of  sins, 
and  inheritance  among  them  that  are  sanctified,  through  faith  that  is 
in  Christ;  that  so,  in  that  great  day,  when  1  shall  meet  you  again,  be- 
fore your  Judge  and  mine,  we  may  meet  in  joyful  and  glorious  circum- 
^ances,  never  to  be  separated  any  more. 

IV.  I  would  apply  myself  to  the  young  people  of  the  congregation. 

Since  I  havebeen  settled  in  the  work  of  the  ministry,  in  this  place,  I 
have  ever  had  a  peculiar  concern  for  the  souls  of  the  young  people,  and 
a  desire  that  religion  might  flourish  among  them  ;  and  have  especially 
exerted  myself  in  order  to  it ;  because  I  knew  the  special  opportunity 
they  had  beyond  others,  and  that  ordinarily  those,  whom  God  intended 
mercy  for,  were  brought  to  fear  and  love  him  in  their  youth.  And  it 
has  ever  appeared  to  me  a  peculiarly  amiable  thing  to  see  young  peo- 
ple walking  in  the  ways  of  virtue  and  christian  piety,  having  their 
hearts  purified  and  sweetened  with  a  principle  of  divine  lov^.  And  it 
has  appeared  a  thing  exceeding  beautiful,  and  what  would  be  much  to 
the  adorning  and  happiness  of  the  town,  if  the  young  people  could  be 
persuaded,  when  they  meet  together,  to  converse  as  christians,  and  as 
the  children  of  God  ;  avoiding  impurity,  levity,  and  extravagance  ;  keep- 
ing strictly  to  the  rules  of  virtue,  and  conversing  together  of  the  things 
of  God,  and  Christ  and  heaven  This  is  what  I  have  longed  for  :  and 
it  has  been  exceedingly  grievous  to  mc,  when  I  have  heard  of  vice,  vani- 
ty and  disorder,  among  our  youth.  And  so  far  as  I  know  my  heart,  it 
was  from  hence  that  I  formerly  led  this  church  to  soir.e  measures,  for 
the  suppressing  of  vice  among  our  young  people,  which  gave  so  great 
offence,  and  by  which  1  became  so  obnoxious.  I  have  sought  the  good 
and  not  the  hurt  of  our  young  people.  I  have  desired  their  truest 
bonour  and  happiness,  and  not  their  reproach  ;  knowing  that  true  vir- 
tue and  religion  tended,  not  only  to  the  glory  and  felicity  of  young 
people  in  another  world,  but  their  greatest  peace  and  prosperity,  and 
highest  dignity  and  honour  in  this  world,  and  above  all  things  to  sweet- 
en and  render  pleasant  and  delightful  even  the  days  of  youth. 

But  whether  I  have  loved  you  and  sought  your  good  more  or  less, 
yet  God  in  his  providence,  now  calling  me  to  part  with  you,  commit- 


FAREWELL    SERMON.  (HT 

ting  your  souls  to  him  who  once  committed:the  pastoral  care  of  (hem 
to  me,  nothing  remains,  but  only  (as  I  am  now  taking  my  leave  of  yon) 
earnestly  to  beseech  you,  fiomlove  to  yourselves,  if  you  have  none  to 
me,  not  to  despise  and  forget  the  warnings  and  counsels  I  have  so  often 
given  you  ;  remembering  the  day  when  you  and  1  must  meet  again 
before  the  great  Judge  of  quick  and  dead  ;  when  it  will  appear  whe- 
ther the  things  I  have  taught  you  were  true,  whether  tlie  counsels  I 
have  given  you  were  good,  and  whether  I  truly  sought  your  good,  and 
whether  you  have  well  improved  my  endeavours. 

I  have,  from  time  to  time,  earnestly  warned  you  against  frolicking 
(as  it  is  called,)  and  some  other  liberties  commonly  taken  by  young 
people  in  the  land.  Aud  whatever  some  may  say,  in  justification  of 
such  liberties  and  customs,  and  may  laugh  at  warnings  against  them, 
I  now  leave  you  my  parting  testimony  against  such  things  ;  not 
doubting  but  God  will  approve  and  confirm  it,  in  that  day  when  we 
shall  meet  before  Him. 

V.  I  would  apply  myself  to  the  children  of  the  congregation,  the 
lambs  of  this  flock,  who  have  been  so  long  under  my  care. 

I  have  just  now  said,  that  I  have  had  a  peculiar  concern  for  the 
young  people  :  and  in  so  saying,  I  did  not  intend  to  exclude  you. 
You  are  in  youth,  and  in  the  most  early  youth:  and  therefore  I 
have  been  sensible,  that  if  those  that  were  young  had  a  precious  op- 
portunity for  their  souls' good,  you  who  are  very  young  had,  in  many 
respects,  a  peculiarly  precious  opportunity.  And  accordingly  I  have 
not  neglected  you :  I  have  endeavoured  to  do  the  part  of  a  faithful 
shepherd,  in  feeding  the  lambs  as  well  as  the  sheep.  Christ  did  once 
commit  the  care  of  your  souls  to  me  as  your  minister ;  and  you 
know,  dear  children,  how  I  have  instructed  you,  and  warned  you  from 
time  to  time:  you  know  how  I  have  often  called  you  together  for  that 
end  :  and  some  of  you,  sometimes,  have  seemed  to  be  affected  with 
what  I  have  said  to  you.  But  I  am  afraid  it  has  had  no  saving 
efl^ect,  as  to  many  of  you  ;  but  that  you  remain  still  in  an  unconverted 
condition,  without  any  real  saving  work  wrought  in  your  souls,  convin- 
cing you  thoroughly  of  your  sin  and  misery,  causing  you  to  see  the 
great  evil  of  sin,  and  to  mourn  for  it,  and  hate  it  above  all  things  ;  and 
giving  you  a  sense  of  the  excellency  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  bring- 
ing you,  with  all  your  hearts,  to  cleave  to  Him  as  your  Saviour ; 
weaning  your  hearts  from  the  world  ;  and  causing  you  to  love  God 
above  all,  and  to  delight  in  holiness  more  than  in  all  the  pleasant 
things  of  this  earth  :  and  so  that  I  now  leave  you  in  a  miserable 
condition,  having  no  interest  in  Christ,  and  so  under  the  awful  dis- 
pleasure and  anger  of  God,  and  in  danger  of  going  down  to  the  pit  of 
eternal  miser)\ 

But  now  I  must  bid  you  farewell :  I  must  leave  you  in  the  hands 
of  God.  I  can  do  no  more  for  you  than  to  pray  for  you.  Only 
I  desire  you  not  to  forget,  but  often  think  of  the  counsels  and 
warnings  I  have  given  you,  and  the  endeavours  I  have  used,  that 
your  souls  might  be  saved  from  everlasting  destruction. 

Dear  children,  I  leave  you  in  an  evil  world,  that  is  full  of  snares 
and  temptations.  God  only  knows  what  will  become  of  you.  Tnis 
the  Scripture  has  told  us,  that  there  are  but   few  saved  :    and  we 


^48  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

have  abundant  confirmation  of  it  from  what  we  see.  This  we  see^ 
that  children  die  as  well  as  others  :  multitudes  die  before  they  grow 
up  ;  and  of  those  that  grow  up,  comparatively  few  ever  give  good 
evKleiice  of  saving  conversion  to  God.  I  pray  God  to  pity  you,  and 
take  care  of  you,  and  provide  for  you  the  best  means  for  the  good  of 
your  souls  ;  and  that  God  himself  would  undertake  for  yoa,  to  be 
your  heavenly  Father,  and  the  mighty  Redeemer  of  your  immortal 
souls.  Do  not  neglect  to  pray  for  yourselves  :  take  heed  you  be  not  of 
the  number  of  those,  who  cast  off  fear,  and  restrain  prayer  before 
God.  Constantly  pray  to  God  in  secret ;  and  often  remember  that 
great  day,  when  you  must  appear  before  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ, 
and  meet  your  minister  there,  who  has  so  often  counselled  and  warn- 
ed you. 

I  conclude  with  a  few  words  of  advice  to  all  in  general,  in  some 
particulars,  which  are  of  great  importance  in  order  to  the  future  wel- 
fare and  prosperity  of  this  church  and  congregation. 

1.  One  thing  that  greatly  concerns  you,  as  you  would  be  an  happy 
people,  is  the  maintaining  o^  family  order. 

We  have  had  great  disputes  how  the  church  ought  to  be  regulated  ; 
and  indeed  the  subject  of  these  disputes  was  of  great  importance  :  but 
the  due  regulation  of  your  families  is  of  no  less,  and  in  some  re- 
spects, of  much  greater  importance.  Every  christian  family  ought  to 
be,  as  it  were,  a  little  church,  consecrated  to  Christ,  and  wholly  influ- 
enced and  governed  by  his  rules.  And  family  education  and  order  are 
some  of  the  chief  of  the  means  of  grace.  If  these  fail,  all  other  means  are 
like  to  prove  ineffectual.  If  these  are  duly  maintained,  all  the  means 
of  grace  will  be  Hke  to  prosper  and  be  successful. 

Let  me  now,  therefore^  once  more,  before  1  finally  cease  to  speak  to 
this  congregation,  repeat  and  earnestly  press  the  counsel,  which  I  have 
often  urged  on  heads  of  families  here,  while  I  was  their  pastor,  to  great 
painfulness,  in  teaching,  warning  and  directing  their  children  ;  bring- 
ing them  up  in  the  nurture  and  admonition  of  the  Lord  ;  beginning 
early,  where  there  is  yet  opportunity  ;  and  maintaining  a  constant  dili- 
gence in  labours  of  this  kind:  remembering  that,  as  you  would  not 
have  all  your  instructions  and  counsels  ineffectual,  there  must  be  go- 
vernmetit  as  well  as  instructions,  which  must  be  maintained  with  an 
even  hand,  an(]  steady  resolution  ;  as  a  guard  to  the  religion  and  mo- 
rals of  the  family,  and  the;  support  of  its  good  order.  Take  heed  that 
it  be  not  with  any  of  you,  as  it  was  with  Eli  of  old,  who  reproved  his 
children,  but  restrained  them  not ;  and  that  by  this  means  you  do  not 
bring  the  like  curse  on  your  families,  as  he  did  on  his. 

And  let  children  obey  their  parents,  and  yield  to  their  instructions, 
and  submit  to  their  orders,  as  they  would  inherit  a  blessing,  and  not  a 
curse.  For  we  have  reason  to  think,  from  many  things  in  the  word  of 
God,  that  nothing  has  a  greater  tendency  to  bring  a  curse  on  persons, 
in  this  world,  and  on  all  their  temporal  concerns,  than  an  undutiful, 
unsubmissive,  disorderly  behaviour  in  children  towards  their  parents. 
2.  As  you  would  seek  the  future  prosperity  of  this  society,  it  is  of 
vast  importance  that  you  should  avoid  contention. 

A  contentious  people  will  be  a  miserable  people.    The  contentions, 
which  have  been  among  you,  since  I  fiirst  became  your  pastor,  have 


FAREWELL    feERMON*  049 

been  one  of  the  greatest  burdens  I  have  laboured  under,  in  the  course 
of  my  ministry  :  not  only  the  contentions  you  have  had  with  me,  but 
those  you  have  had  one  with  another,  about  your  lands,  and  other  con- 
cerns: because  I  knew  that  contention,  heat  of  spirit,  evil  speaking, 
and  things  of  the  like  nature,  were  directly  contrary  to  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  and  did,  in  a  {)eculiar  manner,  tend  to  drive  away  God's 
spirit  from  a  people,  and  to  render  all  means  of  grace  ineffectual, 
as  well  as  to  destroy  a  people's  outward  comfort  and  welfare. 

Let  me,  therefore,  earnestly  exhort  you,  as  you  would  seek  your 
own  future  good,  hereafter  to  watch  against  a  contentious  spirit. 
If  you  would  see  good  days,  seek  peace  and  ensue  it,  1  Pet.  iii. 
10,  ll.  Let  the  contention,  which  has  lately  been  about  the  terms 
of  christian  communion,  as  it  has  been  the  greatest  of  your  con- 
tentions, so  be  the  last  of  them.  I  would,  now  1  am  preaching  my 
Farewell  Sermon,  say  to  you,  as  the  apostle  to  the  Corinthians,  2  Cor. 
xiii.  11,  Finally,  brethren,  farewell.  Be  perfect:  be  of  one  mind: 
live  in  peace :  and  the  God  qf  love  and  peace  shall  be  with  you. 

And  here  1  would  particularly  advise  those,  that  have  adhered  to  me 
in  the  late  controversy,  to  watch  over  their  spirits,  and  avoid  all  bitter- 
ness towards  others.  Your  temptations  are,  in  some  respects,  the  great- 
est :  because  what  has  been  lately  done  is  grievous  to  you.  But,  how- 
ever wrong  you  may  think  others  have  done,  maintain,  with  great  dili- 
gence and  watchfulness,  a  christian  meekness  and  sedatenessof  spirit  : 
and  labour,  in  this  respect,  to  excel  others  who  are  of  the  contrary  part ; 
and  this  will  be  the  best  victory  :  for  he  that  rules  his  spirit,  is  better  than 
he  that  takes  a  city.  Therefore  let  nothing  be  done  through  strife  or  vain- 
glory :  indulge  no  revengeful  spirit  in  any  wise  ;  but  watch  and  pray 
against  it  ;  and  by  all  means  in  your  power,  seek  the  prosperity  of  this 
town  :  and  never  think  you  behave  yourselves  as  becomes  christians, 
but  when  you  sincerely,  sensibly  and  fervently,  love  all  men,  of  whatever 
party  or  opinion,  and  whether  friendly  or  unkind,  just  or  injurious,  to 
you,  or  your  friends,  or  to  the  cause  and  kingdom  of  Christ. 

3.  Another  thing,  that  vastly  concerns  the  future  prosperity  of  the 
town,  is,  that  you  should  watch  against  the  encroachments  of  Error  ; 
and  particularly  Arminianism,  and  doctrines  of  like  tendency. 

You  were  many  of  you,  as  I  well  remember,  much  alarmed,  with  the 
apprehension  of  the  danger  of  the  prevailing  of  these  corrupt  princi- 
ples, near  sixteen  years  ago.  But  the  danger  then  was  small,  in  com- 
parison of  what  appears  now  :  these  doctrines,  at  this  day,  are  much 
moie  prevalent,  than  they  were  then  :  the  progress  they  have  made  in 
the  land,  within  this  seven  years,  seems  to  have  been  vastly  greater,  than 
at  any  time  in  the  like  space  before  :  and  they  are  still  prevailing,  and 
creeping  into  almost  all  parts  of  the  land,  threatening  tlie  utter  ruin  of 
the  credit  of  those  doctrines,  which  are  the  peculiar  glory  of  the  gospel, 
and  the  interests  of  vital  piety.  And  \  have  of  late  perceived  some 
things  among  yourselves,  that  show  that  you  are  far  from  being  out  of 
danger,  but  on  the  contrary  remarkably  exposed.  The  elder  peo- 
ple "'may  perhaps  think  themselves  sufticicntiy  fortified  against  in- 
fection :  but  it  is  fit  that  all  should  beware  of  self-confidence  and 
carnal  security,  and  should  remember  those  needful  warnings  of 
sacred  writ.  Be  not  high  minded  but  fear,  and  let  him  that  stands. 

V©L.  L  82 


650  FAREWELL    SERMON. 

take  heed  lest  he  fall.  But  let  the  case  of  the  elder  people  be  as  it 
will,  the  rising  generations  are  doubtless  greatly  exposed.  These 
principles  are  exceedingly  taking  with  corrupt  nature,  and  are  what 
young  people,  at  least  such  as  have  not  their  hearts  established  with 
grace,  are  easily  led  away  with. 

And  if  these  principles  should  greatly  prevail  in  this  town,  as  they 
very  lately  have  done  in  another  large  town  I  could  name,  formerly 
greatly  noted  for  religion,  and  so  for  a  long  time,  it  will  threaten  the 
spiritual  and  eternal  ruin  of  this  people,  in  the  present  and  future  ge- 
nerations. Therefore  you  have  need  of  the  greatest  and  most  diligent 
care  and  watchfulness  with  respect  to  this  matter. 

4.  Another  thing  which  1  would  advise  to,  that  you  may  hereafter 
be  a  prosperous  people,  is,  that  you  would  give  yourselves  much  to 
prayer. 

God  is  the  fountain  of  all  blessing  and  prosperity,  and  he  will  be 
sought  to  for  hts  blessing.  I  would  therefore  advise  you,  not  only  to 
be  constant  in  secret  and  family  prayer,  and  in  the  public  worship  of 
God  in  his  house,  but  also  often  to  assecnble  yourselves  in  piivate  pray- 
ing societies.  I  would  advise  all  such,  as  are  grieved  for  the  afflictions 
of  Joseph,  and  sensibly  aftected  with  the  calamities  of  this  town,  of 
whatever  opinion  they  be,  with  relation  to  the  subject  of  our  late  con- 
troversy, often  to  meet  together  for  prayer,  and  cry  to  God  for  his  mer- 
cy to  themselves,  and  mercy  to  this  town,  and  mercy  to  Zion,  and  to 
the  people  of  God  in  general  through  the  world. 

6.  The  last  article  of  advice,  I  would  give,  (which  doubtless  does 
greatly  concern  your  prosperity,)  is,  that  you  would  take  great  care 
with  regard  to  the  settlement  of  a  minister,  to  see  to  it  who  or  what 
manner  of  person  he  is,  whom  you  settle:  and  particularly  in  these 
two  respects. 

(I.)  That  he  be  a  man  of  thoroughly  sound  principles,  in  the  scheme 
of  doctrine  which  he  maintains. 

This  you  will  stand  in  the  greatest  need  of,  especially  at  such  a  day 
©f  corruption  as  this  is.  And,  in  order  to  obtain  such  an  one,  you  had 
need  to  exercise  extraordinary  care  and  prudence.  I  know  the  dan- 
ger. I  know  the  manner  of  many  young  gentlemen  of  corrupt  prin- 
ciples, their  ways  of  concealing  themselves,  the  fair  specious  disguises 
they  are  wont  to  put  on,  by  which  they  deceive  others,  to  maintain  their 
own  credit, and  get  themselves  into  others'  confidence  and  improvement, 
and  secure  and  establish  their  own  interest,  until  they  see  a  convenient 
opportunity  to  begin,  more  openly,  to  broach  and  propagate  their  cor- 
rupt tenets. 

(2.)  Labour  to  obtain  a  man,  who  has  an  established  character,  as 
a  person  of  serious  religion  and  fervent  piety. 

It  is  of  vast  importance  that  those,  who  are  settled  in  this  work,  should 
be  men  of  true  piety,  at  all  times,  and  in  all  places;  but  more  especial- 
ly at  some  times  and  in  some  towns  and  churches.  And  this  present 
time,  which  is  a  time  wherein  religion  is  in  danger,  by  so  many  corrup- 
tions in  doctrine  and  practice,  is  in  a  peculiar  manner,  a  day  wherein 
such  ministers  are  necessary.  Nothing  else  but  sincere  piety  of  heart 
is  at  all  to  be  depended  on,  at  such  a  time  as  this,  as  a  security  to  a 
young  man,just  coming  into  the  world,  from  the  prevailing  infection,  to 


TAHEWELL    SERMON.  651 

thoroughly  to  engage  him,  in  proper  and  successful  endeavours,  to  with- 
stand and  oppose  the  torrent  of  error  and  prejudice,  against  the  high, 
mysterious,  evangehcal  doctrines  of  the  rehgion  of  Jesus  Christ,  and 
their  genuine  efiects  in  true  experimental  religion.  And  this  place 
is  a  place,  that  does  peculiarly  need  such  a  minister,  for  reasons  obvi- 
ous to  all. 

If  you  should  happen  to  settle  a  minister,  who  knows  nothing,  trul^', 
of  Christ,  and  the  way  of  salvation  by  him,  nothing  experimentally  of 
the  nature  of  vital  rehgion  ;  alas,  how  will  you  be  exposed  as  sheep 
without  a  shepherd.  Here  is  need  of  one  in  this  place,  who  shall  be 
eminently  fit  to  stand  in  the  gap,  and  make  up  the  hedge,  and  who  shall 
be  as,the  chariots  of  Israel  and  the  horsemen  thereof.  You  need  one, 
that  shall  stand  as  a  champion,  in  the  cause  of  truth  andgodliness. 

Having  briefly  mentioned  these  important  articles  of  advice,  nothing 
remains,  but  that  I  take  my  leave  of  you,  and  bid  you  all  farewell,  wish- 
ing and  praying  for  your  prosperity.  I  would  now  commend  your  im- 
mortal souls  to  HIM,  who  formerly  committed  them  to  me  ;  expecting 
the  day,  when  I  must  meet  you  again  before  him,  who  is  the  Judge  of 
quick  and  dead.  I  desire  that  I  ii.ay  never  forget  this  people,  who 
have  been  so  long  my  special  charge,  and  that  I  may  never  cease  fer- 
vently to  pray  for  your  prosperity.  May  God  bless  you  with  a  faithful 
pastor,  one  that  is  well  acquainted  with  his  mind  and  will,  thorough- 
ly warning  sinners,  wisely  and  skilfully  searching  professois,  and 
conducting  you  in  the  way  to  eternal  blessedness.  May  you  have 
truly  a  burning  and  shining  light  set  up  in  this  candlestick;  and  may  you 
not  only  for  a  season,  but  during  his  life,  and  that  a  long  life,  be  willing 
to  rejoice  in  his  light. 

And  let  me  be  remembered,  in  the  prayers  of  ail  God's  people,  that 
areof  a  calm  spirit,  and  are  peaceable  and  faithful  in  Israel,  of  whatever 
opinion  they  may  be,  with  respect  to  terms  of  Church  Communion. 
And  let  us  all  remember,  and  never  forget,  our  future,  solemn  meeting, 
on  that  Great  day  of  the  Lord  ;  the  day  of  infallible  and  of  the  unalter- 
able sentence.     Amen. 


APPENDIX. 


A. 

(Pee  p.  10.) 

I  HAVE  not  been  able  to  ascertain  the  names  of  any  of  the  children  of 
Richard  Edwards,  by  his  first  marriage,  except  the  eldest.  Among  those 
by  the  second  marriage  were  John,  Hannah,  and  Daniel. 

The  Hon.  Damel  Edwards,  the  youngest  son,  was  born  in  the  year 
1700.  He  entered  Yale  College  in  1716,  the  same  year  with  his  nephew, 
Jonathan  Edwards,  and  was  his  classmate  and  roommate,  and  afterwards 
his  fellow-tutor  in  that  seminary.  He  was  distinguished  for  his  acquisi- 
tions as  a  scholar,  and  for  his  talents  as  an  instructor.  He  chose  the  law 
as  his  profession,  and  early  rose  to  eminence.  In  1728,  he  married  a 
Miss  Sarah  Hooker,  by  whom  he  had  five  children,  two  sons  and  three 
daughters ;  all  of  whom  died  in  infancy,  except  Sarah,  who  married  Mr. 
George  Lord,  and  died  in  October,  1764,  as  did  her  husband  in  October 
1765,  leaving  one  son. 

The  following  sketch  of  the  life  and  character  of  Mr.  Edwards,  who 
died  at  New-Haven,  September  6,  1765,  in  the  65th  year  of  his  age,  and 
was  there  buried,  is  taken  from  the  Sermon  of  the  Rev.  Edward  Dorr, 
Pastor  of  the  first  church  in  Hartford,  occasioned  by  his  death. 

"  God  has  seen  fit  to  take  away  one,  who  for  many  years  has  been  an 
honour  and  an  ornament  to  this  church  and  congregation  of  our  Lord  Je- 
sus Christ,  and  a  great  blessing  to  it.  His  place  is  now  vacant  among  us, 
and  we  shall  see  his  face  no  more.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  his  charac- 
ter at  large;  as  he  was  born  and  brought  up  among  you,  and  spent  the 
greater  part  of  his  life  in  this  place,  you  all  know  that  he  was  a  gentleman 
of  great  worth  and  usefulness.  Nature  had  furnished  him  with  dis- 
tinguished natural  powers.  He  had  a  liberal  education,  and  but  few 
among  us  ever  made  a  greater  proficiency  in  useful  learning,  than  he  did. 
He  was  early  called  to  public  improvement,as  a  tutor  in  the  college,  where 
his  name  is  remembered  with  honour  to  this  day.  Since  he  left  the  col- 
lege, he  has  generally  been  employed  in  important  stations,  in  the  service 
of  the  government,  and  in  all  has  so  conducted,  as  to  obtain  the  approba- 
tion of  the  public.  For  many  years,  he  was  a  member  of  the  Council, 
Judge  of  Probate  for  the  District  of  Hartford,  and  one  of  tlic  judges  of 
the  Superior  Court.  In  all  these  important  trusts,  he  shone  with  honour. 
He  was  an  able  councillor,  an  upright  judge,  and  a  faithful  magistrate ; 
a  terror  to  eyil  doers,  and  a  praise  to  them  that  did  well.  In  all  the  pub- 
lic affairs,  which  he  sustained,  neither  his  ability  nor  integrity  has  ever 
Ijeen  impeached.     Ifwe  view  him  in  private  life,  his  character  was  very 


654  APPENBIX. 

amiable.  From  his  youth  up,  he  hath  been  unblemished.  He  was  a  good 
neighbour,  a  kind  and  faithful  friend,  a  person  of  strict  truth  and  honesty^ 
not  easily  carried  away  by  slight  impressions,  but  uniform,  steady  and  even, 
in  his  ])rinc!ples  and  conduct.  He  has  been  for  many  years  a  professor  of 
our  holy  religion ;  and  you  are  all  witnesses,  that  he  was  a  devout  and 
constant  attendant  on  the  worship  and  ordinances  of  God,  and  exhibited 
in  his  life  and  conversation  an  excellent  pattern  of  uniform,  constant  and 
steady,  obedience  to  the  laws  of  the  gospel.  As  he  lived,  so  he  died,  calm, 
composed,  and  resigned  to  God.  Death,  the  king  of  terrors,  was  no  terror 
to  him.  His  conscience  was  unreproaching,and  he  received  the  final  sum- 
mons without  surprise,  relying  on  the  merits  of  a  glorious  Redeemer;  and 
through  him  expecting  a  triumphant  entrance  into  the  joys  of  his  Lord. 
While  he  lived,  he  bore  a  principal  part  in  all  public  affairs  among  us.  He 
was  a  real  friend  to  all  mankind,  to  this  town,  to  this  church  and  society  in 
particular,  and  constantly  sought  its  best  interests.  We  shall  feel  the  loss 
of  him,  wherever  we  turn  our  eyes;  especially  in  this  stormy  day,  when 
able  and  faithful  men  are  so  much  needed.  The  Colony,  the  Council,  and 
the  Supreme  Court  will  feel  the  loss.  We  in  this  church  and  society,  es- 
pecially, must  sensibly  feel  the  stroke,  as  there  was  no  man,  on  whose  kind 
counsel  and  friendly  advice,  we  could  more  safely  rely  than  his.  A  great 
and  good  man  is  taken  away  from  us ;  and  he  has  been  taken  away  in  an 
evil  day,  a  day  of  perplexity  and  trouble.  God  grant,  that  a  double  portion 
of  his  excellent  spirit  may  rest  on  some  of  us,  and  that  this  heavy  breach 
may  be  sanctified  to  us  all  for  good!  Oh,  let  us  follow  that  good  example, 
which  he  has  left  us,  and  study  peace  as  he  did.  And  let  us  earnestly 
pray  the  great  Lord  of  the  Universe,  with  whom  is  the  residue  of  the  Spi- 
rit, that  he  would  raise  up  worthy  men  to  fill  his  place,  in  the  government, 
and  among  ourselves." 


B. 

(See  p.  10.) 

I  have  before  me,  while  writing,  a  closely  written  manuscript  of  ninety- 
six  pages,  foolscap  8vo.  by  the  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards  of  East-\VilJd!^or, 
and  eldest  son  of  RichardEdwards,  Esquire,  headed,  "  Some  things  writ- 
ten for  my  own  use  and  comfort,  concerning  the  liie,  and  death,  of  my  very 
dear  and  ever  honoured  father,  Mr.  Richard  Edwards,  late  of  Hartford, 
who  died  April  '20,  1718,  on  the  Sabbath  in  the  forenoon,  being  the  ninth 
day  of  his  sickness,  and  the  71st  year  of  his  age,  he  being  then  very  near 
seventy  one  years  old,  having  been  born  in  May  1647." 

The  following  brief  abstract  of  this  account  will  not  be  uninteresting 
to  those,  who  resi-'ect  the  memory  ofdcparted  piety  and  worth;  especially, 
as  it  is  an  accurate  moral  picture  of  the  man,  who  moulded  the  character 
of  the  father  and  instructor  of  President  Edwards.  As  far  as  is  consis- 
tent with  brevity,  the  language  of  the  original  is  exactly  preserved. 

He  was  naturally,  of  a  strong  healthy  constitution,  well-formed  and 
comely,  and  of  uncoramon  vigour,  activity,  and  nirableness  of  body — charac- 
teristics, for  which  he  w^  as  distinguished  until  the  close  of  lite.  He  had  a 
clear  voice  and  ready  utterance,  and  expressed  himself  not  only  with  ease 
and  propriety,  but  with  uncommon  energy  and  effect.  He  was  naturally 
cheerful,  sprightly,  and  sweet-tempered,  of  a  ready  wit,  had  a  mind  well 
stored  with  knowledge,  particularly  the  knowledge  of  history  and  theolo- 
gy, and  in  conversation  was  uncommonly  pleasant  and  entertaining.     He 


APPENDIX.  655 

was  sober  and  considerate,  a  man  of  great  courage,  resolution  and  perse- 
verance; had  a  clear  and  strong  understanding,  a  sound  judgment,  and  a 
quick,  sharp  insight  into  men  and  things;  and  was  capable  of  almost  any 
kind  of  business.  He  was  in  the  full  sense  of  the  phrase  a  man  of  business  ^ 
distinguished  for  his  wisdom  and  forecast ;  had  uncommon  prudence  and 
discretion  in  the  management  of  his  own  affairs,  and  was  extensively  con- 
sulted in  matters  of  weight  and  difficulty,  by  others. 

Though  natively  quick  and  warm  when  provoked  or  affronted,  he  had 
acquired  the  self-government,  which  became  him  as  a  man  and  a  christian; 
though  firm  and  inflexible  in  the  discharge  of  his  duty,  he  was  yet  eaty  to 
be  intreated.  He  was  candid  and  charitable  in  his  estimate  of  the  conduct 
of  others,  kind  and  affectionate  in  his  feelings,  liberal  and  generous  in  the 
use  of  his  property,  obliging  in  his  disposition,  willing  to  devote  liis  time 
and  services  to  the  good  of  his  fellow-men,  readily  tbrgiving  injuries  on 
the  slightest  acknowledgment,  but  yielding  nothing  to  pride  and  haughti- 
ness of  spirit.  He  was  uniformily  courteous,  affable,  and  easy  of  access; 
free  and  familiar  with  his  children  and  servants,  and  v/i,th  the  poorest  and 
humblest  of  his  neighbours;  and  at  the  same  time  tender-hearted  and 
compassionate,  easily  melting  into  tears,  while  witnessing  either  examples 
of  kindness  and  generosity,  or  scenes  of  affliction  and  sorrow,  and  domg 
what  lay  in  his  power  to  relieve  the  wants  and  distresses  of  others.  He 
had  a' manly  ingenous  spirit,  v/as  accustomed  to  deal  very  faithfully  and 
thoroughly  with  his  fellow  men  about  their  faults  and  miscarriages,  and  did 
not  fear,  on  any  proper  occasion,  to  tell  any  man  plainly  what  he  saw  amiss 
in  his  conduct. 

He  was  a  sincere  and  faithful  friend,  never  disappointing  those  who 
trusted  in  him ;  and  it  was  no  difficult  matter  for  any  honest  man,  however 
humble  his  circumstances,  in  a  just  cause,  especially  if  he  was  op- 
pressed and  unable  to  defend  himself,  to  secure  his  friendship.  "  Such 
confidence,"  says  the  writer,  "  have  I  in  my  father's  faithfulness,  that, 
under  God,  I  could  venture  my  estate,  my  good  name,  and  even  my  life, 
in  the  hands  of  such  a  friend.  "  In  all  his  dealings  with  his  fellow-men  he 
was  eminently  just,  honest,  and  upright.  Though  his  business  was  very 
extensive  and  continued  through  a  long  hfe,  and  though  I  had  the  best 
opportunity  of  knowing  his  concerns,  I  never  knev/  him  attempt  to  wrong 
any  individual,  or  do  any  thing,  which  discovered  the  least  shadow  of  de- 
ceit or  dishonesty.  On  the  contrary,  he  abhorred  all  base  underhand  man- 
agement, scorned  and  hated  all  that  was  little,  unfair  and  unworthy,  and 
in  freedom  from  dissimulation,  hypocrisy,  and  any  design  to  do  wrong, 
was  among  those  who  excel." 

In  all  the  various  relations  of  his  life,  his  character  was  truly  estimable. 
He  was  hospitable  and  courteous  to  strangers,  and  charitable  to  the  poor, 
and  was  ever  ready  to  sympathize  with  the  afflicted,  to  plead  the  cause  of 
the  widow  and  the  fatherless,  and  to  help  those,  who  wanted  both  friends 
and  money  to  help  themselves.  He  was  an  affectionate,  tender,  careful 
husband,  one  of  the  best  of  fathers  to  his  children,  a  just  and  kind  master, 
esteemed  and  beloved  by  his  neighbours,  a  good  and  punctual^  paymaster, 
and  of  a  credit  always  unimpeached.  He  was  not  only  faithful,  in  mana- 
ging the  concerns  of  others  ;  but  equitable,  in  his  demands  for  services 
rendered,  often  indeed  rendering  them  for  nothing  ;  just  and  moderate  iu 
his  profits,  gentle  and  accommodating  towards  his  debtors,  often  bearing 
with  them,  year  after  year,  if  they  were  poor  and  honest.  He  was  also 
merciful  to  his  beast. 

He  had  an  excellent  spirit  of  government— having  wisdom  to  govern 
not  only  himself,  but  others- -so  that  he  was  both  feared,  and  loved,  by  his 
children,  and  servants,  and  all  who  were  under  his  control.  '^  T  cannot  say 


656  APPENDIX. 

that  he  discovered  no  infirmities,  but  they  were  much  outweighed  by  hii? 
virtues."' 

In  the  existence  and  constant  presence  of  God,  he  appeared  not  only  to 
believe,  but  to  delight.  The  fear  of  God  seemed  habitually  before  his 
eyes,  so  that  nothing  probably  would  have  tempted  him  to  do  that,  which 
he  really  thought  would  otferid  him.  Twice  every  day,  he  worshipped 
God  in  his  house,  by  reading  the  Scriptures  and  prayer.  Other  religious 
books  were  read  in  their  season  in  the  family,  and  that  to  an  extent  rarely 
surpassed.  His  conversation  with, and  his  letters  to, his  children  were  full  of 
religious  instruction.  He  laid  great  stress  on  the  promises  of  God  to  the 
righteous,  and  his  threatenings  to  the  wicked;  fully  expecting  and  look- 
ing for  the  accomplishment  of  both.  He  habitually  and  attentively  ob- 
served the  dispensations  of  Providence  ;  ever  acknowledging  with  thank- 
fulness his  goodness  to  him  and  bis;  and  regarding  every  affliction  as  an 
immediate  chastisement  from  God,  so  that  he  heard  the  voice  of  the  rod 
and  him  that  appointed  it.  Rarely  does  any  christian  express  so  solemniz- 
ing and  heart-alfecting  a  sense,  of  the  great  and  awful  dispensations  of 
Providence,  towards  individuals,  or  towards  the  world  at  large. 

"He  hated  vice  and  wickedness,  wherever  he  saw  it,  and  abhorred  to  jus- 
tify or  make  light  of  sin,  whether  committed  by  strangers,  or  by  his  own 
near  relatives  :  always  discovering  in  this  respect  a  just,  conscientious,  im- 
partial spirit,  and  appearing  to  frown  upon  it  even  more  in  his  children,  than 
in  others. 

"  In  prayer,  he  seemed  to  draw  very  near  to  God,  with  peculiar  solemnity 
and  reverence,  with  exalted  views  of  his  greatness  and  goodness,  and  with 
a  supreme  regard  to  his  glory.  He  appeared  to  cherish  an  admiring  sense 
of  the  wisdom,  the  power  and  the  goodness,  of  God,  in  contemplating  the 
works  of  creation  and  providence,  and  the  riches  of  his  grace  as  unfolded 
in  the  work  of  redemption.  The  truth  of  God,  he  studied  and  understood, 
as  well  as  loved  and  obeyed. 

"  Few  men  administer  christian  admonition  and  reproof,  with  so  much 
faithfulness,  discretion  and  solemnity,  or  with  so  much  success ;  and  few 
receive  it  with  more  humility,  meekness  and  self-application.  His  feelings 
on  religious  subjects  were  at  once  strong  and  tender:  oflen  discovering 
themselves  at  public  worship,  in  family  prayer,  and  in  religious  reading  and 
conversation. 

"  He  took  peculifir  care,  that  his  family  sanctified  the  Sabbath,  and  ap 
peared  himself  conscientiously  to  keep  it  holy.  On  the  morning  of  every 
sacramental  Sabbath,  he  regularly  spent  a  long  time  alone,  in  religious  re- 
tirement. He  was  abundant,  in  his  religious  instructions  and  admonitions 
to  his  family  ,  on  every  proper  occasion,  and  regularly  every  Sabbath  after- 
noon in  enforcing  tjie  sermons  of  the  day,  and  the  instructions  of  the  book 
which  was  then  read.  "  From  my  own  observation  of  other  rehgious  fa- 
milies, with  which  I  have  been  familiarly  acquainted,  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  few  children,  even  of  christian  parents,  are  as  much  counselled 
and  instructed."  He  loved  and  honoured  the  faithful  ministers  of  Christ, 
for  their  work's  sake ;  and  was  a  sincere  and  hearty  friend  to  his  own  min- 
ister;* actively  and  zealously  exciting  others  to  help  and  befriend  him,  and 
resolutely  and  successfully  opposing  and  bearing  down  those,  who  arrayed 
themselves  against  him. 


*The  Rev.  Timothy  Woodbridge.  This  gentleman  was  the  minister  of  Hart- 
ford from  1685  to  173*2 :  he  was  highly  respected  for  his  talents  and  worth. 
An  interesting  sketcli  of  his  character  is  given  by  the  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards, 
in  hrs  Election  Sermon,  preached  in  1732. 


APPENDIX.  657 

"  in  his  religion, he  was  far  from  being  ostentatious;  and  the  applause 
■^jf  men  he  regarded  as  nothing,  in  comparison  with  that  testimony  of  a 
good  conscience,  which  would  enable  him  to  appeal  to  the  heart-searchinjr 
■God,  for  the  sincerity  and  uprightness  of  his  conduct.  He  appeared  to  love 
the  real  disciples  of  Christ,  for  their  piety ;  disregarding  the  distinctions  of 
sect  and  party,  and  receiving  all  his  brethren,  who  were  received  by  Christ. 

Though  possessed  of  property,  he  realized,  in  an  unusual  degree,  the 
vanity  of  worldly  good,  and  placed  but  a  slight  dependence  on  riches,  ho- 
nours, or  pleasures,  as  the  means  of  permanent  happiness.  "  Surely,"  says 
his  son,  "  this  world  was  not  my  father's  god  ;  his  chief  good  was  some- 
thing better  and  nobler,  than  this  present  hfe  can  afford."  He  appeared 
habitually  sensible  of  the  frailty  of  his  nature,  and  of  the  nearness  of  his 
own  death,  often  conversing  on  death  and  the  judgment,  in  a  truly  devout 
and  edifying  manner,  and  frequently  observing,  near  the  close  of  life,  "  I, 
carry  my  life  in  my  hand  every  day ;  I  am  daily  looking  and  waiting,  until 
my  change  come."  Few  christians,  indeed,  seem  more  conversant  with 
their  own  death,  more  careful  to  prepare  for  it,  or  more  ready  to  meet  it. 

In  the  government  of  God,  he  seemed  habitually  to  rejoice.  His  sense 
of  the  evil  of  sin  was  peculiarly  deep;  he  was  patient  and  submissive  un- 
der sufferings,  was  willing  to  suffer  for  Christ's  sake,  and  was  free  from 
the  fear  of  death.  He  appeared  to  be  truly  humbled  under  a  sense  of  his 
own  sins,  to  mourn  over  sin,  and  to  wage  a  constant  warfare  against  it,  to 
iove  the  way  of  salvation  revealed  in  the  gospel,  to  cherish  a  sacred  regaid 
to  the  glory  of  God,  and  the  interests  of  religion,  and  to  entertain  exalted 
views  of  the  character  and  glory  of  Christ.  "  Though  he  never,"  says  his 
son,  "  gave  me  an  account  of  his  conversion  at  large ;  yet  on  various  occa- 
sions, in  conversation,  he  has  alluded  to  the  great  change  then  wrought  in 
his  views  and  affections,  with  regard  to  temporal  and  spiritual  objects,  par- 
ticularly to  worldly  good,  the  warfare  with  sin,  the  hope  of  reconciliation 
to  God,  and  a  title  to  eternal  life."  He  appeared  eminently  to  trust  in 
God,  to  cherish  a  deep  sense  of  his  dependence,  and  to  lead  a  life  of  faith. 
"  Though  I  have  now  been  in  the  ministry,"  he  adds,  "  nearly  four  and 
twenty  years,  and,  during  that  period,  have  often  had  much  private  conver- 
sation with  many  of  the  truly  pious,  I  do  not  remember  that  I  have  met 
with  any,  who  seemed  more  truly  to  lead  such  a  life,  than  my  dear  father ; 
and  to  such  a  life  he  habitually  advised  and  directed  his  children,  both  in 
his  conversation  and  in  his  letters.  Writing  to  me  on  an  important  sub- 
ject, he  says, — '  I  leave  you,  in  this,  and  all  your  affairs,  to  the  direction 
■  and  guidance  of  the  Fountain  of  wisdom  and  goodness,  who,  I  doubt  not, 

*  will  guide  you  into  the  best  and  safest  course,  if  you  trust  in  him,  and  by 
'  faith  commit  your  ways  to  him.  Make  the  glory  of  God  your  main  end, 
'  and  depend  on  him  by  a  lively  faith  in  his  promise ;  fur  He  is  faithful  who 
'  hath  promised,  that  they  who  wait  en  him  shall  not  want  any  good  thing — 

'  that  is,  any  that  is  really  good  for  them.' In  a  letter  addressed  to  me, 

when  I  was  with  the  army  at  Albany,*  then  on  an  expedition  to  Canada, 
he  thus  writes—'  I  have  nothing  new  to  write  to  you,  but  merely  to  revive 
'  what  I  have  said  formerly,  that,  since  God,  in  his  all-v^^ise  providence,  has 

*  called  you  to  this  present  service,  you  put  your  whole  trust  in  him,  to 

*  carry  you  through  it,  who  never  fails  any  who  put  their  trust  in  him. 
'  You  may  expect  to  meet  with  ditliculties,  but  still  God  is  all-sufficient— 
'  the  same  God  in  all  places,  and  in  all  conditions  ;— therefore  commit 


'■"■'  In  August   1711, 

Vol.  I.  S3 


O  APPFNDIX. 

'  yourself  wholly  to  his  merciful  providence,  who  is  a  faithful  God  to  all 
'  his  people,  in  all  their  ways.  So  I  leave  you  to  the  blessing,  guidance, 
'  and  keeping,  of  a  gracious  and  faithful  God  and  Father.' — I  have  cause 
to  say,  "  Blessed  be  God,  that  once  I  had  a  father,  thus  disposed  to  coun- 
sel his  children  I" 

In  all  affairs  of  weight  and  difficulty,  he  appeared,  in  an  unusual  degree, 
to  commit  himself  to  God,  to  wait  on  him  for  direction  and  for  help,  to 
leave  the  event  in  his  hands,  and  then  to  be  at  peace.  "•  He  has  some- 
times told  me,"  says  his  son,"  that,  when  his  mind  has  been  much  agita- 
ted, in  consequence  of  some  great  trouble  and  perplexity,  in  which  he  could 
see  no  means  of  help  or  relief,  so  that  he  could  get  no  rest  for  a  great  part  of 
the  night,  it  has  been  his  customary  course,  to  cast  it  entirely  on  God,  and 
leave  it  in  his  hands ;  and  then,  said  he,  I  can  at  once  go  to  sleep." 

"  God  was  his  great  refuge  in  times  of  trouble,  and  I  have  good  reason  to 
believe  that  the  declaration  in  Deut.  xxxui.21 , The  Eternal  God  is  thy  refuge^ 
and  underneath  thee  are  the  everlasting  arms — might  be  applied  to  him  with 
truth.  In  the  time  of  health,  he  trusted  in  God,  and  strongly  rehed  on  his 
providential  care  and  goodness,  to  provide  for  himself  and  his  family. 
This  was  peculiarly  observable  in  seasons  of  affliction  and  distress.  In 
sickness,  he  stayed  himself  on  God,  and  looked  to  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
to  carry  him  safely  through,  however  it  might  issue.  In  the  very  dread- 
ful mortality  in  Hartford,  about  seven  years  since,*  when  great  numbers 
of  the  inhabitants  died,  he  was  dangerously  sick  of  the  distemper;  and 
when  the  crisis  was  passed,  he  gave  us  the  following  account  of  his  reflex- 
ions during  the  first  night  of  his  sickness  :  '  When  I  was  first  taken  ill,  I 
'  concluded  that  I  had  the  prevailing  fever,  and  was  strongly  impressed  with 
'  the  belief  that  I  should  die  of  it.  During  the  former  part  of  the  night,  I 
'  felt  considerable  uneasiness  and  anxiety  respecting  it,  hni  in  the  latter 
'  part  of  it,  the  disquiet  of  my  mind  passed  away,  and  I  was  willing  to  leave 

*  myself  with  God.  I  found  myself  not  so  much  concerned  about  the  issue 
'  of  my  sickness :  but  thought  I  was  satisfied,  that  it  should  be  as  he  pleas- 
■  ed.' — This,  during  his  whole  sickness,  gave  him  inward  peace  and  rest  in 
God,  and  comfortably  freed  him  from  the  terrors  of  death." 

"The  language  of  his  last  Will,  written  near  the  close  of  life,  strongly 
exhibits  the  good  man,  Vv'lio  trusteth  in  the  Lord,  and  whose  hope  the  Lord 
is: — ^  I,  Richard  Edwards  of  Hartford,  being  weak  in  body,  yet.  through 
'  God"s  goodness,  my  understanding  and  memory  remaining  good,  being 
'  sensible  of  my  own  mortality,  and  not  knowing  how  suddenly  the  Lord 
'  may  put  a  period  to  this  short  life,  do  therefore  make  this  my  last  will  and 
'  testament.  And  first,  I  commit  my  soul  into  the  bosom  of  my  most  mer- 
'  ciful  God  and  Father,  and  ever  blessed  Redeemer,  Jesus  Christ,  hoping 
'  for  eternal  life  and  salvation  through  the  merits,  mediation  and  interces- 

*  sion  of  my  Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus"  Christ ;  and  my  body  to  the  earth,  to 
'  be  buried,  nothing  doubting  but  that  it  shall  be  raised  again,  and  reunited 
'  to  my  soul,  by  the  mighty  power  of  God,  at  tlie  last  day,  and  so  rest  in 
'  Piopes  of  a  glorious  resurrection,  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord.' 

'•  The  piety  and  evangelical  excellence,  which  had  characterized  his 
life,  were  even  more  conspicuous  in  his  last  sickness,  and  at  his  death. — 
Towards  one  whom  he  regarded  as  having  greatly  injured  him,  he  expres- 
sed feehngs  of  kindness  and  good-will;  and  while  he  declared,  that  in  the 
review  of  his  conduct  towards  him,  he  had  peace  of  conscience,  that  he 
could  safely  die  upon  what  he  had  done  in  it,  and  that  under  the  approach 


*  In  1711. 


APPENDIX.  059 

of  death,  he  felt  no  trouble  lying  upon  his  mind,  with  reference  to  it,  yet 
he  declared  he  could  truly  say,  he  heartily  wished  him  the  best  good.  He 
took  great  care  that  no  wrong  should  be  done  through  mistake,  witli  re- 
spect  to  what  had  been  due,  or  was  still  due  to  him  from  others.  To  one 
ef  bis  neighbours,  who  came  and,  whispering  in  his  ear,  asked  his  forgive- 
ness, he  readily  and  promptly  replied,  "  I  forgive  you,  I  forgive  you,"'^and 
this  so  kindly  and  heartily,  that  the  man  was  melted  into  tears.  He  re- 
peatedly charged  his  children,  on  no  consideration,  to  take  advantage  of 
the  law  against  any,  who  had  mortgaged  their  lands  or  estates  to  him,  and 
whose  mortgages  were  out  and  their  debts  unpaid. 

"  When  his  children  came  around  his  bed,  weeping  at  the  apprehension 
of  his  approaching  death,  and  their  incalculable  loss,;he  said  to  them,'  This 
'  time  I  have  long  expected,  this  scene  I  have  looked  for,  and  now  it  is 
'  come.'  As  some  of  us,  who  lived  at  a  distance,  came  into  his  sick  cham- 
ber for  the  first  time,  he  said,  '  I  can   but  look  upon  you,  my  children,  I 

*  can't  speak  to  you ;  I  have  a  great  deal  to  say,  but  I  can't  say  it ;  God 
'  now  denies  me  that  liberty.'  When  I  first  saw  him,  (April  16th.)  he  ex- 
pressed a  hope,  that  he  should  meet  me  with  joy,  at  the  right  hand  of 
Christ,  in  the  great  day.  Something  being  said  to  him,  with  reference  to 
death,  he  rephed, '  Death,  indeed,  is  terrible  to  nature,  but  I  hope  God  will 
'  strengthen  me,  and  carry  me  through  it,  and  help  me  to  submit  to  his 
'  will ;  1  lie  at  the  feet  of  God.' — While  he  was  praying  to  God  by  himself, 
he  was  overheard  to  say, — '  Lord,  I  come  to  thee  with  my  naked  soul ;  1 
'  desire  to  bow  under  thy  chastising  hand,  and  hope  it  is  a  good  ehastise- 
*ment.'  As  we  sat  weeping  by  his  bed-side,  April  16th,  he  said  to  us, — 
'Come,  children,  moderate  your  grief,  for  such  things  must  be,  and  the 
'  will  of  God  is  best ;  I  freely  submit  myself  to  the  will  of  God,  whether  in 
'  life  or  death,  to  do  with  me  as  he  pleases.' — He  said  tome,  on  the  17th. 
— '  Though  I  seem  to  be  better  to-day,  yet  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  this 
'  sickness  will  be  my  last;  and  I  am  very  willing  that  the  will  of  God 
'  should  be  done  :' — And  on  the  following  day,—'  I  have  been  of  the  opi- 
'  nion,  all  along,  that  this  sickness  will  be  my  death,  and  I  have  net  yet  seen 
'  cause  to  alter  my  mind,  I  am  very  willing  that  God"s  will  should  be  done, 
'  I  am  not  at  all  anxious  about  it ;  I  rely  on  the  Lord  .Tesus  Christ )  I  have 

*  chosen  him  for  my  Saviour  and  mighty  Redeemer.' — On  my  observing, 
'  This  must  be  a  great  support.  Sir,  to  your  mind  ;' — he  replied, — '  It  is  so.' 
As  I  was  sitting  by  him,  on  the  17th,  I  heard  him  say, — '  O  my  poor,  frail. 

*  mortal  body,methinks,  sometimes,  I  could  be  glad  to  slip  away  from  thee  I' 
In  the  midst  of  most  severe  pain,  he  expressed  himself  very  desirous,  that 
God  would  enable  him  to  bear  his  afflicting  hand,  and  quietly  submit  to  his 
will,  even  to  the  end,  and  that  he  might  not,  at  any  time,  by  impatience,  be 
left  to  sin  against  him,  and  for  this  he  desired  our  prayers,  that  God  would, 
in  this  respect,  strengthen  him  more  and  more ;  and  in  a  very  humble  man- 
ner, when  he  had  scarce  strength  to  speak,  he  thus,  in  a  short  ejaculation, 
prayed  to  God, '  O  Lord,  increase  thy  grace,  aud  strengthen  thy  servant's 
'faith  I' — During  his  whole  sickness,  he  appeared  to  be  almost  always 
praying  to  God ;  far  more  so  than  is  commonly  witnessed  on  the  death-bed 
of  the  christian. 

He  solemnly  exhorted  and  charged  his  son  John,  to  carry  on  the  worship 
of  God  in  his  family,  after  his  death.  To  one  of  his  daughters,  he  said,  a.5 
she  stood  weeping  over  him,  "  I  must  say  to  you,  as  Mr.  Whiting  saidK) 
his  daughter  Sybil,  Through  wet  and  dry,  through  thick  and  thin,  keep 
steady  for  that  port."  On  the  1 8th,  as  his  good  friend  Mr.  Austin,  and  my- 
self, sat  by  him,  and  we  observed  him  troubled  witli  hiccoughs,  one  of  ug 
remarked,  that  the  hiccoughs  were  very  distressing,  and  he  replied,"  God 
must  take  his  own  way,  and  use  his  own  means,  and  I  desire  to  submit  to 


660 


AFPENmX. 


liis  holy  will,  and  hope  I  can  do  it  freely."  He  expressed  to  me  his  convie-' 
lion,  that  it  was  better  lor  him  to  depart  and  be  with  Christ,  than  to  con- 
tinue with  his  family.  On  my  reminding  him,  that  he  had  many  friends, 
he  replied, — "  I  know  that  I  have  many  friends,  but  there  is  one  triend 
that  is  better  than  all ;"  and  when  one  of  us  spoke  of  making  his  bed  easy, 
he  replfcd, — "  The  favour  of  Jesus  Christ  will  make  my  bed  easy;  the  bo- 
som of  Jesus  Christ  is  the  best  resting-place,  for  a  man  in  my  condition," — 
To  one  of  my  sisters,  he  said,  "  Weep  for  yourself,  my  child,  as  I  have 
wept  for  myself,  i  have  kid  hold  upon  the  Rock  of  ages,  I  hope  my  anchor 
is  within  the  veil:" — and  to  another,  as  she  observed  him  in  very  great 
pain,—"  The  passage  may  prove  rough,  but  the  shore  is  safe,  and  the  bot- 
tom will  bear  me." — In  reply  to  a  remark  of  mine,  he  said, — "  I  trust  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  have  ventured  my  soul  upon  him  for  eternity,  and  I 
desire  to  do  so  more  and  more." — On  the  night  of  the  IGth,  when  his  dis- 
temper was  most  violent,  he  expressed  his  full  conviction,  that  he  had  cho- 
sen God  for  his  portion,  and  that  he  would  grant  him  a  favourable  issue. 

He  expressed  high  and  honourable  thoughts  of  God  in  the  midst  of  his 
greatest  distress.  On  Wednesday,  observing  his  uncommon  patience  and 
resignation  under  extreme  sutiering,  I  was  led  to  remark,  that  to  submit 
quietly  and  patiently  to  the  Vvill  of  God,  when  sorely  afflicted  by  him,  was 
one  of  the  hardest  lessons  a  christian  had  to  learn.  His  reply  was  striking 
and  aifecting  .- — ^  Alas!  there  is  no  room,  nor  cause  to  complain  of  God, 
'for  he  is  infinitely  good,  yea  goodness  itself,  and  the  fo mtain  of  it.  1 
'  should  be  very  ungrateful  indeed,  if  I  should  complain  of  him  who  has 
'  been  so  good  to  me  all  my  days.' 

"  On  Saturday,  the  19th  of  April,  and  the  last  day  but  one  of  his  life, 
when  he  lay  rattling  in  his  throat,  much  oppressed  for  want  of  breath,  and 
in  great  pain,  so  that  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  in  the  very  pangs  and  agonies 
of  deatli,  he  expressed  some  fear  that  he  might  lie  long  in  that  condition, 
and  so  endure  great  pain  and  misery  before  he  died,  and  therefore  seemed 
to  desire  that  God  would  mercifully  shorten  the  time  of  his  sufferings,  by 
taking  him  quickly  out  of  the  world.  Mrs.  Talcot  said  to  him,  '  But  you 
'  are  \\illing  to  wait  God's  time  :' — to  which  he  replied, — '  O  yes,  O  yes.' 
At  a  time  when  he  appeared  to  be  fastsinkiug.  Major  Talcot  informed  him, 
that  he  was  ready  to  think  death  was  upon  him,  be  was  so  very  low,  and  I 
added, — '  I  hope  that  God  will  never  leave  you  nor  forsake  you  :' — with 
great  readiness,  and  with  an  air  of  much  inward  satisfaction,  he  replied, — 

•  I  don't  fear  it,  I  don't  fear  it.' — When  he  was  hardly  able  to  speak,  he 
told  me,  in  answer  to  a  question,  that — '  his  hope  of  eternal  life,  through 

•  the  infinite  mercy  of  (jod  in  Jesus  Christ,  was  still  firm;  that  he  trusted 

•  all  would  be  well  witli  him  in  a  short  lime,  and  that  then  he  should  think 
'  of  his  present  afflictions  and  sufferings  with  pleasure.' — In  the  former  part 
of  the  night,  he  told  us  that  he  was  comforted  with  the  hope  of  going  to 
heaven.  On  my  asking  him,  if  he  did  not  wish  to  recover,  he  replied: — 
'  To  recover,  No ;  I  am  better  as  I  am.,  I  have  no  desire  to  go  back,  I  have 
left  myself  Vvith  God." — In  the  latter  part  of  the  night,  having  lain  down 
lor  a  little  sleep,  I  v\"as  called  up,  as  he  appeared  to  be  dying.  I  asked  him 
if  his  hope  of  salvation  continued,  he  said — •  Yes.' — I  asked  him  whether 
he  still  had  good  thoughts  of  God,  and  he  replied — '  Yes,  Yes.' — In  the 
morning  of  the  Sabbath,  a  few  hours  before  his  deatli,  I  went  to  him  and 
told  him  I  VvTiuld  make  one  more  prayer  with  him,  if  he  thought  he  could 
attend  ;  he  was  only  able  to  say — '  Yes,' — and  at  the  same  time  nodded  his 
head;  and,  when  it  was  concluded,  gave  me  the  same  sign,  that  he  had 
been  able  to  understand  and  unite  with  me.  In  the  prayer,  I  spoke  of  him 
as  dying  ;  and  expreLsing  my  hope  to  him  afterwards,  that  he  was  going  to 
keep  sabbath  with  saints  and  angels  in  heaven,  and  enquiring  whether  ho 


APPENDIX.  661 

had  that  hope  to  sustain  him,  he  gave  me  the  customary  sign  that  such  was 
the  fact. — 

"  In  this  manner  he  lived  and  died,  glorifying  God  both  in  his  life  and  in 
his  death,  and  leaving  behind  him  that  good'nanie,  which  is  better  than  pre- 
cious ointment." 


C. 

(See  p.  11.) 

The  Rev.  John  Warham,  originally  one  of  the  ministers  of  Exeter  in 
England,  had  four  children,  all  daughters.  He  died,  April  1,1670.  "He 
was  distinguished  for  piety  and  the  strictest  morals  ;  yet,  at  times,  was  sub- 
ject to  great  gloominess  and  religious  melancholy.  Such  were  his  doubts 
and  fears,  at  some  times,  that  when  he  administered  the  Lord's  Supper  to 
his  brethren,  he  did  not  participate  with  them,  fearing  that  the  seals  of  the 
t?ovenant  did  not  belong  to  him.  It  is  said  he  was  the  first  minister  in  New 
England  who  used  JS'otts  in  preaching  ;  yet  he  was  applauded  by  his  hear- 
ers, as  one  of  the  most  animated  and  energetic  preachers  of  the  day.  He 
was  considered  as  one  of  the  principal  fathers  and  pillars  ©f  the  churches  of 
^Connecticut." — TrumbulVs  Hist.  Conn.  I.  467. 


D. 

(See  p.  11.) 

Mrs.  Mather  had  three  children  by  her  first  husband,  Eunice,  Warham 
and  Eliakim.  Eunice  married  Rev.  John  Williams  of  Deerfield,  who,  with 
his  son,  (then  a  child,  afterwards  the  Rev.  Stephen  Williams,  D.  D.  of 
Long  Meadow,)  w^as  carried  into  captivity,  by  the  Indians,  in  1704. 


E. 

(Seep.  11.) 

The  following  are  the  children  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stoddard  : 

I.  Mary,  born  Jan.    9,   1671  ;    married  Rev.  Stephen  Mix  of  Weathers- 

field'.     They  had  six  children;  Mary,  Rebeckah,  Christian,  Esther, 
and  Elisha.  . 

II.  Esther,  born  1672;  married  Rev.  Timothy  Edwards.     For  an  account 

of  their  children^  see  Appendix^  G. 

III.  Samuel,  died  in  infancy. 

IV.  Anthony,  died  in  infancy. 

V.  Aaron,  died  in  infancy. 

VI.  Christian,  born  Aug.  22,  1676;  married  Rev.  William  Williams  ot 
Hatfield.  They  had  four  children:  1.  Solomon,  2.  Israel,  3.  Eliza- 
beth, 4.  Dorothy.  . 

VII.  Anthony,  born  Aug.  9, 1678;  A.  B.  of  Harvard,  1697  ;  the  minister 
of  Woodbury  in  Connecticut;  died  Sept.  6    1760. 

VIII  Sarah,  born  April  1,  1680;  married  Rev.  Samuel  Whitman  ot  tar- 
mington,  Connecticut.  They  had  five  children  :  1.  Sarah,  who  mar- 
ried Rev.  John  Trumbull  of  Westbury,  and  was  the  mother  of  the 


662  APPENDIX. 

Hon.  John  Trumbull,  tlie  poet :  2.  Elizabeth,  wile  of  Rev.  Thomas 
Strong  of  New  Marlborough  ;  3.  Elnathan,  minister  of  Hartford,  Con- 
necticut; 4.   Solomon;  5.   Samuel. 

IX.  John,  born  Feb.  17,  1682;  A.  B.  of  Harvard  1701;  married  Pru- 
dence Chester  of  Wethersfield.  He  was  usually  known  as  Col. 
Stoddard  of  Northampton.  They  had  six  children:  I.Mary,  born  Nov. 
12,  1732,  and  married  Hon.  John  Worthington,  LL.  D.  of  Spring- 
field, and  died  having  no  issue;  2.  Prudence,  married  Ezekiel  Wil- 
liams, Esq.  of  Wethersfield;  3.  Solomon;  4.  Esther;  5.  Israel;  6. 
Hannah. 
X.  Israel,  born  April  10, 1684;  died  in  a  prison  in  France. 

XL  Rebeckah,  born  in  1686  ;  married  Joseph  Hawley  of  Northampton. 
They  had  two  children  ;  1.  Joseph,  A.  B.  of  Yale,  1742,  a  distinguish- 
ed lawyer  and  statesman ;  2.  EKsha,  killed  at  the  battle  of  Lake 
George,  Sept.  4,  1755. 
XII.  Hannah,  born  April  21,  1688;  married  Rev.  William  Williams  of 
Weston,  Mass.  They  had  nine  children:  I.William;  2.  Elizabeth, 
married  Rev.  Joseph  Crocker  of  Ipswich;  3.  Anne;  4.  Ijucy,  mar- 
ried Rev,  Joseph  Buckminster  of  Rutland;  6.  Mercy;  7.  Esther;  8- 
Solomon;  9.  Hannah. 


F. 

(Seep.  11.) 

The  following  is  a  list  of  the  publications  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Stoddard. 

The  Trial  of  Assurance,              -             .             _             .  |696 

The  Doctrine  of  instituted  Churches,                  -             -  1700 

The  Necessity  of  acknowledging  offences,          -             -  1701 

The  Danger  of  Degeneracy,                     ...  1702 

Election  Sermon,              .....  1703 

A  Sermon  on  the  Lord's  Supper,  Ex.  xii.  47,  48,               -  1707 
A  Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Joseph  Willard  of 

Swampfield,                    -             -             -             -             -  1708 

The  Inexeusableness  of  neglecting  the  worship  of  God,  1 708 

The  Falseness  of  the  Hopes  of  many  Professors,             -  1708 

An  Appeal  to  the  Learned  on  the  Lord's  Supper,             -  1709 

A  Plea  for  Tythes  :  Divine  Teachings  render  persons  blessed,  1712 

A  Guide  to  Christ.            .             .             .             .             _  1714 

Three  Sermons  :  The  Virtue  of  Christ's  Blood ;  Natural  men 
under  the  Government  of  Self-love ;  The  Gospel  the  means 
of  Conversion;  and  a  fourth,  to  Stir  up  young  men  and 

maidens.            -             -             -             -             -             -  1717 

Sermon  at  the  Ordination  of  Mr.  Thomas  Cheney,           -  1718 

Treatise  concerning  Conversion,               -             -             -  1719 

Answer  to  cases  of  Conscience,                  -             -             -  1722 

Inquiry  whether  God  is  not  angry  with  the  country,          -  1723 
Safety  of  appearing  in  the  righteousness  of  Christ, 


G. 

(See  p.  12.) 

The  following  are  the  children  of  Timothy  and  Esther  Edwards. 

I.  Esther,  born  in  1695 ;  married  Rev.  Samuel  Hopkins  of  West  Spring- 


APPENDIX.  663 

tield.  They  had  several  children:  Hannah,  married,  in  1740,  to 
Hon.  John  Worthmgton,  LL.  D.  of  Springfield.  They  had  two  sons 
who  died  in  infancy  :  and  four  danghtcrs  :  J\lnry,  who  married  Hon. 
Jonathan  Bliss,  Chief  Justice  of  the  Province  of  New  Brunswick  ; 
Hannah,  who  married  Hon.  Thomas  Dwight  of  Springfield  ;  Frances, 
who  married  Hon.  Fisher  Ames,  LL.  D.  ;  and  Sophia,  who  married 
John  Williams,  Esq.  of  Weathersfield. 

H.  Ehzabeth,  born  1697;  married  Col.  Jabez  Huntington  of  Windham. 
They  had  four  daughters:  1.  Jerusha,  married  Dr.  Clark  of  Lebanon  ; 
2.  Sarah,  married  Hezehiah  Wetmore  of  Middletown,  and  had  two 
children  ;  and  after  his  death,  married  Samuel  Beers  of  Stratford,  and 
had  three  children :  Lucy,  married  to  George  Smith  of  Smith  Town, 
L.  Island;  Sarah  Anne,  married  David  Burr,  Esq.  of  Fairfield;  and 
William  Pitt  Beers,  Esq.  of  Albany,  w^ho  married  Anne,  daughter  of 
Hon.  Jonathan  Sturges  of  Fairfield  :  3.  Elizabeth,  married  Rev.  Ab- 
raham Davenport  of  Stamford,  and  had  two  children ;  Hon.  John  Da- 
venport, M.  C.  and  Hon.  James  Davenport,  a  Judge  of  the  Supremo 
Court  of  Connecticut. 

HL  Anne,  born  in  1699,  married  John  Ellworth,  Esq.  of  East  Windsor, 
and  died  in  1798,  aged  99.  They  had  four  children:  1.  John,  born 
Aug.  24,  1735,  and  had  five  children  ;  2.  Solomon,  born  April  3,  1737, 
and  had  twelve  children ;  3.  Frederick  ;  4.  Anne,  w^ho  married  Mr. 
John  Stoughton  of  East  Windsor,  and  had  six  children. 

IV.  Mary, born  in  1701,  and  died  single,  Sept.  17,  1776,  in  the  76th  year 
of  her  age. 

V.  Jonathan,  the  subject  of  the  present  Memoir.     For  his  children,  see 

appendix,  K. 

VI.  Eunice,  born  in  1706,  married  in  Oct.  1729,  Rev.  Simon  Backus  of 
Newington,  who  went  as  chaplain  of  the  Connecticut  troops  to  Louis- 
burg,  in  1745,  and  died  there  in  1746.  They  had  seven  children  ;  1, 
Unknown;  2.  Eunice,  born  in  1732,  died  unmarried,  aged  75.  3. 
Elizabeth,  born  in  1734,  married  David  Eissell  of  East  Windsor. 
They  had  two  children.  4.  Esther,  married  Benjamin  Ely  of  West 
Springfield,  and  had  fourteen  children.  5.  Rev.  Simon  Backus,  A. 
B.  of  Yale,  in  1759,  married  Rachel  Moscley  of  East  Haddam,  and 
had  nine  children.  6.  Jerusha,  married  Mr.  Smith  Bailey,  and  had 
four  children.     7.  Mary,  died  unmarried. 

VII.  Abigail,  born  in  1708  ;  married  William  Metcalf,  Esq.  of  Lebanon, 
and  A.  B.  of  Harvard  College.  She  died  in  1754.  They  had  five 
children  :  1.  Abigail,  married  Moses  Bhss,  Esq.  of  Springfield,  and  had 
oight  children — Hon.  George  Bliss,  Moses,  William  JSIetcalf,  Lncy 
married  Dr.  Hczekiah  Clark  of  Lebanon,  Abigail  married  Hon.  Wil- 
liam Ely  of  Springfield,  Frances  married  Rev.  William  Rowland  of 
Windsor,  Euuly,^\\A  Harriet;  2.  William,  and  3.  Eliphalet,  who 
died  young;  4.  Lucy,  who  married  Mr.  John  Huntington  of  East 
Haddam,  and  had  seven  children;  5.  Ehphalet,  born  Dec.  6,  1748, 
married  Mary  West  of  Lebanon,  and  has  had  ten  children. 

VIII.  Jerusha,  born  in  1710,  and  died  Dec.  22,  1729,  aged  about  19  1-2 
years. 

IX.  Hannah,  born  in  1712,  and  married  Seth  Wetmore,  Esq.  of  Mid- 
dletown, Conn.  They  had  two  children  :  1.  Oliver  Wetmore,  Esq. 
married  Sarah  Brewster,  and  had  four  children — Rev.  Oliver  Wet- 
more, Sarah,  Hannah,  and  Clarissa.  2.  Lucy,  married  Chauncey 
Whittlesey,  Esq.  of  Middletown,  and  had  four  children,  jLwr-y,  J/an- 
7iah,  Elizabeth  and  Chauncey. 

X.  Lucy,  born  in  1715,  and  died  unmarried  in  East  Windsor,  Aug.  21, 

1736,  asred  21. 


664  APPENDIX.. 

XI.  Martha,  bern  in  1716,  married  Rev.  Moses  Tuthill,  of  GranvilJe^ 
Mi^s.  and  diod  in  Feb.  1794,  aged  77.  They  had  four  children,  all 
daughters. 


H. 

(See  page  39.) 

"THE  MIND." 

TITLE.  The  Natural  History  of  the  Mental  World,  or  of  the  Inter- 
nal \Vorkl  :  being  a  Particular  Enquiry  into  the  Nature  of  the  Human 
Mind,  with  respect  to  both  its  Faculties — the  Un<'lerstandingand  the  Will 
—and  its  various  inbtincts,  and  Activv  and  Passive  Powers. 

I>TRODLXTio>-.  Concerning  the  two  worlds — the  External  and  the  In- 
ternal: the  External,  the  sabject  of  Natural  Philosophy ;  the  Internal, 
our  own  Mind?.  How  the  Knowledge  of  the  latter,  is,  in  many  respects, 
the  most  important.  Of  what  great  use,  the  true  knowdedge  of  this  is; 
and  of  what  dangerous  consequence  errours,  here,  are,  more  than  in  the 
other. 

Si{hj€cts  to  be  handled  in  the  Treatise  on  the  Mind. 

1.  Concerning  the  difference  between  Pleasure  and  Pain,  and  Ideas,  oi 
the  vast  difference  between  the  Understandmg  and  the  Will. 

2.  Concerning  Prejudices ;  the  influence  of  Prejudice  to  cloud  the  mind. 
The  various  sorts  of  prejudices  in  particular,  and  how  they  come  to  cloud 
the  mind;  particularly  Prejudices  of  Interest — the  true  reason  why  they 
cloud  the  judgment. — Prejudices  of  Education  and  Custom.  Their  univer- 
sal influence  on  w-ise,  and  learned,  and  rational,  as  w^ell  as  other  men  ; 
demonstnitcd  from  fact  and  experience — of  their  insensible  influence, 
how  it  is  insensible  on  great  men. — How  difficultly  a  people  are  got  out  of 
their  old  customs.  In  husbandry,  how  difficult  to  persuade  that  a  new  way 
is  better. — Another  prejudice,  is  the  general  cry,  and  fashion,  and  vogue, 
of  an  age.  Its  exceeding  strong  influence,  like  a  strong  stream,  that  car- 
ries all  that  way.  Tliis  influence  on  great  men-  Prejudices  of  Pcoide,  in 
favourof  individual  great  men,  to  the  contempt  of  others. — Again,  the  voice 
of  men  in.  power,  riches,  or  honourable  place. — Howsonie  Churches  would 
laugh  at  their  ceremonies,  if  they  were  v.  ithout  them. — How  a  man's  being 
rich,  or  in  high  place,  gives  great  weight  to  his  words. — How  much  more 
weighty  a  man's  sayings  are,  after  he  becomes  a  Bishop,  than  before — an- 
other prejudice  is  from  ridicule,  or  an  high  strong  overbearing  contemptu- 
ous style. 

3.  Either  after,  or  before,  this,  tc  have  a  dissertation,  concerning  the 
exceeding  vanity,  bhndness  and  w^eakness  of  the  mind  of  man. — What 
)}oor  fallible  creatures  men  are.  Hovv  every  man  is  insensible  of  his  own  ; 
thinks  himself  best. — Concerning  the  Pride  of  men:  how  ready  to  think 
they  shall  be  great  men,  and  to  promise  themselves  great  things. 

4.  How  some  men  have  Strong  Reason,  but  not  Good  Judgment. 

5.  Concerning  Certainty  and  Assurance.  How  many  things,  that  are 
demonstrations  in  themselves,  are  not  demonstrations  to  men,  and  yet  arc 
strong  arguments  ;  no  more  demonstrations  than  a  boy  may  have,  that  a 
cube  of  two  inches  may  be  cut  into  eight  cubes  of  one  inch,  for  want  of 
proper  clearness,  and  full  comprehension  of  the  ideas.  How  assurance  is 
capable  of  infinite  degrees.«:-How  none  have  sCch  a  degree,  but  that  it 


i 


THE    MIN».  6^5 

iMight  be  heightened — oven  of  that,  ihat  two  and  two  mal^e  four.  It  may 
he  increased  by  a  stronger  sight,  or  a  greater  ciearness  of  ideas.  Mnids 
ot  clearer  and  stronger  sight,  may  be  more  assured  of  it,  than  those  of 
more  obscure  vision.  There  may  be  beings  ola  thousand  times  stronger 
sight  than  we  are.  How  God's  sight  only,  is  infinitely  clear  and  strong. 
That,  which  is  demonslration  at  one  time,  may  be  only  probable  reasonmg 
at  amnher,  by  reason  of  ditierent  degrees  of  clearness  andcomprcheni«ion. 
It  is  almost  impossible,  that  a  long  demonstration  should  beget  so  great  as- 
surance, as  a  short  one;  because  many  ideas  cannot  be  so  dearly  compre- 
hended at  one  time,  as  a  few.  A  very  long  demonstration  may  beget  as- 
surance, by  a  particular  examination  of  each  link  of  the  chain,  and  so  by 
recollection,  that  we  were  very  careful  and  assured  in  the  time  of  it;  but 
this  is  less  immediate,  and  less  clear. 

6.  Why  it  IS  proper  for  Orators  and  Preachers  to  move  the  Passions — 
needful  to  show  earnestness,  etc.  how  this  tends  to  convince  the  judgment, 
and  many  other  ways  is  good  and  absolutely  necessary. 

7.  Of  the  nature  of  the  Affections  or  Passions — how  only  strong 
and  lively  exercises  of  the  Will,  together  with  the  effect  on  the  Animal 
nature. 

H.  In  treating  of  Human  Nature,  treat  first  of  Being  in  general,  and 
show  what  is  in  Human  Nature,  necessarily  existing  from  the  nature  of 
Entity.  And  then,  concerning  Perceiving  or  Intelligent  Beings,  in  parti- 
cular, and  show  what  arises  from  the  nature  of  such.  And  then  Animal 
Nature,  and  what  from  that. 

9.  Concerning  Enthusiasm,  Inspiration,  Grace,  etc. 

10.  Concerning  a  two-fold  ground  of  Assurance  of  the  Judgment — a 
reducing  things  to  an  Identity  or  Contradiction,  as  in  Mathematical  demon- 
strations,— and  by  a  natural,  invincible  inclination  to  a  connection,  as  when 
we  see  any  Effect  to  conclude  a  Cause — an  opposition  to  believe  a  thing 
can  begin  to  be  without  a  Cause.  This  is  not  the  same  with  the  other,  and 
cannot  be  reduced  to  a  contradiction. 

11.  Difference  between  Natural  Appetites  and  Rational  Desires. 

12.  Whether  any  difference  between  the  Will  and  Inclination.  Impe- 
fate  acts  of  the  Will,  nothing  but  the  prevailing  Inclination,  concerning 
what  should  be  done  that  moment.  So  hath  God  ordained  that  the  motions 
of  the  Body  should  follow  that. 

13.  Concerning  the  Influence  which  Nearness,  or  Remoteness,  of  Time 
has  in  Determining  the  Will,  and  the  Reason  of  it. 

14.  Concerning  Speculative-Understanding,  and  Sense  of  Heart.  Whe- 
ther any  difference  between  the  Sense  of  the  Heart,  and  tiie  Will  or  In- 
A^lination.  How  the  Scriptures  are  ignorant  of  the  Phi]oso})hic  distinction 
of  the  Understanding,  and  the  Will ;  and  how  the  Sense  of  the  Heart  is 
there  called  Knowledge,  or  Understanding. 

15.  Of  what  nature  are  Ideas  of  what  is  Internal  or  Spiritual.  How 
they  are  the  same  thing  over  again. 

16.  Concerning  Liberty^  wherein  it  consists. 

17.  Concerning  the  prime  and  pro])er  foundationof  Blame. 

18.  How  far  men  may  be  to  blame  for  their  Judgments ;  or  for  Believing, 
or  Not  Believing,  this  or  that. 

19.  Concerning  great  Prejudices  from  the  ambiguous  and  equivocal  use 
of  Words — such  as  Liberty,  Force,  Pi)wer,  etc.  How  from  this  many 
things  seem  to  be,  and  are  called,  Natural  Notions,  that  are  not  so. 

20.  Concerning  Beauty  and  Deformity,  Love  and  Hatred,  tJie  nature  of 
Excellency  or  Virtue,  etc. 

21.  V/hether  or  no  Solf-Love,  be  the  ground  of  all  Love. 
Vol.  L  64 


666  APPENDIX. 

22.  Concerning  the  Corruption  of  Man's  Nature.  How  it  comes  to  be 
corrupt.     What  is  tlie  positive  cause  of  corruption. 

23.  How  greatly  things  lose  their  influence  on  the  mind,  through  per- 
sons being  used  to  them ;  as  Miracles,  and  the  Evidence  of  the  Bemg  of 
God,  which  we  daily  behold.  The  greatest  Demonstrations — most  plain 
and  direct  Proofs.  Use  makes  things  fail  oi  their  intiuence  on  the  Unuer- 
sianding,  so  on  the  Vv  ill  and  Afiections — things  most  satisfying  and  con- 
vincing— thmgs  otherwise  most  moving. 

24.  Consider  of  what  nature  is  that  inward  sensation,  that  a  man  has 
when  he  Almost  thinks  of  a  thing — a  name  or  the  like — when  we  say  it  is 
at  our  tongue's  em', 

25.  Concerning  Moral  Sense  :  what  mioral  Sense  is  Natural. 

26.  How  Natural  men  have  a  Taste  of,  and  Delight  in,  that  External 
Beauty,  that  is  a  resemblance  to  Love. 

27.  Sensitive  x'^ppetites:  How  far  they  consist  in  some  Present  Pain, 
attended  with  the  idea  of  Ease^  habitually  connected,  or  associated,  with 
the  idea  of  such  an  object — Whether  the  sight  of  Food  excites  the  appetite 
of  one  who  is  hungry,  any  other  way. 

By  what  means  persons  come  to  long  after  a  particular  thing ;  either 
from  an  idea  of  Pleasure,  or  the  Removal  of  Pain,  associated. 

Not  immediately  after  the  Thing  itself,  but  only  the  pleasure,  or  the  re- 
moval or  pain. 

28.  Judgment.  Wherein  an  Act  of  the  judgment  consists,  or  an  Assent 
to  a  thing  as  true,  or  a  Dissent  from  it  as  false.  Show  it  to  be  different 
from  mere  Perception,  such  as  is  in  the  mere  presence  of  an  idea  in  the 
mind;  and  so  not  the  Perception  of  the  Agreement  and  Disagreement  of 
Ideas. 

29.  Sensation.  How  far  all  acts  of  the  mind  are  from  Sensation,  All 
ideas  begin  from  thence  ;  and  there  never  can  be  any  idea,  thoug-ht,  or  act 
of  the  mind,  unless  the  mind  first  received  some  ideas  from  Sensation,  or 
some  other  way  equivalent,  wherein  the  mind  is  wholly  passive  in  receiv- 
ing them. 

30.  Separate  State.  How  far  the  Soul,  in  a  Separate  State,  must  de- 
pend on  Sensation,  or  some  way  of  passively  receiving  ideas  equivalent  to 
Sensation,  in  order  to  conversing  with  other  minds,  to  the  knowing  of  any 
occurrence,  to  beholding  any  ot  the  works  of  God,  and  to  its  farther  im- 
provement in  knowledge. 

31.  Sensation.  Wliether  all  ideas,  wherein  the  mind  is  merely  passive, 
and  which  are  received  immediately  without  any  dependence  on  Reflex- 
ion, are  not  ideas  of  Sensation,  or  External  idea?.  Whether  there  be  any 
difference  between  these  ?  Whether  it  be  possible  for  the  Soul  of  man,  in 
this  manner, to  be  originally,  and  without  dependence  on  Reflexion, capa- 
ble of  receiving  any  other  ideas  than  those  of  sensation,  or  something  equi- 
valent,  and  so  some  external  idea  ?  And  whether  the  first  ideas  of  the 
Angels,  must  not  be  of  some  such  kind? 

32.  Angels.  Separate  Spirits  How  far  the  Angels  and  Separate  Spi- 
rits, being  in  some  respects  hi  place,  in  the  Third  Heaven,  where  the  body 
of  Christ  is :  tlieir  removing  from  place  to  place;  their  coming  down  from 
Heaven,  then  ascending  to  Heaven ;  their  being  with  Christ  at  the  Day  of 
Judgment ;  their  seeing  bodies  ;  their  beholding  the  Crea*>ion  of  the  Ma- 
terial Universe;  their  iiaving,  in  their  ministry,  to  do  with  the  bodies  of 
men,  with  the  body  of  Christ,  and  other  material  things  ;  and  their  seeing 
God's  works  of  Providence,  relating  to  the  Material  Universe  ; — how  tiu- 
these  things  necessarily  imply,  that  ^they  have  some  kind  of  Sensations  hke 
ours;  and.  Whether  these  things  do  not  show  that,  by  soraela\ys  or  other, 
they  are  united  to,  some  kind  of  Matter  ^ 


THE    MINt).  66^^ 

33.  Concerning  the  great  Weakness  and  Fallibility  of  the  Human  Mind, 
m  its  present  state. 

34.  Concerning  Beauty. 

35.  How  the  Affections  will  suggest  words,  and  expressions,  and 
thoughts,  and  make  eloquent. 

36.  The  manhest  analogy  betu'een  the  Nature  of  the  Human  Soul  and 
the  Nature  of  other  things.  How  Laws  of  nature  take  place  a^ike.  HoW 
it  is  Laws,  that  constitute  all  permanent  being,  in  created  things,  both  cor- 
poreal and  spiritual. 

37.  Wherein  there  is  an  agreement  between  Men  and  Beasts.  How 
many  things,  in  Men,  are  like  instincts  in  Brutes. 

38.  Whether  the  mind  perceives  more  than  One  object,  at  a  time. 

39.  How  far  the  mind  may  perceive,  without  adverting  to  what  it  per- 
ceived ;  as  in  the  winking  of  the  eyelids,  and  many  other  like  things. 

40.  How  far  there  may  be  Acts  of  the  Will,  without  our  adverting  to  it; 
as  in  walking,  the  act  of  the  will  for  each  individual  step,  and  the  like. 

41.  The  agreement  between  Objects  of  Sight,  and  Objects  of  Feeling; 
or  Visible  Magnitude  and  Figure,  and  Tangible  Magnitude  and  Figure, 
as  to  Number  and  Proportion. 

42.  How  far  Imagmation  is  unavoidable,  in  all  Thinking;  and  Why? 

43.  Connection  of  Ideas.  Concerning  the  Laws  by  which  Ideas  follow 
each  other,  or  call  up  one  another,  in  which  one  thing  comes  into  the  mind 
after  another,  in  the  course  of  our  thinking.  How  far  this  is  owing  to  the 
Association  of  ideas;  and  how  far,  to  any  Relation  of  Cause  and  Elfect,  or 
any  other  Relation.  And  whether  the  whole  may  not  be  reduced  to  these 
following:  Association  oj  Ideas ;  Re^eniljlance  of  some  kind ;  and  that  -a- 
tural  Disposition  in  us.  when  we  see  any  thing  begin  to  be,  to  suppose  it 
owing  to  a  Cause. — Observe  how  these  laws,  by  which  one  idea  suggests 
and  brings  in  another,  are  a  kind  of  mutual  attraction  of  ideas. — Concern- 
ing The  miportance,and  necessity,  of  this  mutual  attraction  and  adhesion  of 
ideas — how  rarely  our  minds  would  serve  us,  if  it  were  not  for  this.  How 
the  mind  would  be  without  ideas,  except  as  suggested  by  the  Senses. 
How  far  Reasoning,  Contemplation,  etc.  depend  on  this. 

44.  How  far  the  Love  of  Happiness,  is  the  same  with  the  Faculty  of  the 
Will  ?  It  is  not  distinct  from  the  mere  Capacity  of  enjoying  and  suffering, 
and  the  Faculty  of  the  Will  is  no  other. 

45.  Whether  it  be  possible  for  a  man  to  love  any  thing  b?tter  than  him- 
self; and  in  what  sense  it  is  so. 

46.  Example.  To  enquire.  What  are  the  true  reasons  of  so  strong  an 
inclination,  in  mankind,  to  follow  Example.  How  great  its  influence  over 
men,  in  their  opinions,  their  judgment,  their  taste,  and  the  whole  man. 
How  by  this  means,  at  certain  times,  a  particular  thing  will  come  to  be  in 
great  vogue,  and  men's  passions  will  all.  as  it  were,  be  moved  at  once,  as 
the  trees  in  the  wood,  by  the  same  wind,  or  as  things  floating  with  the 
tide,  the  same  way.  Men  follow  one  another  like  a  flock  ofslu^ep  How 
sometimes  the  vogue  lasts  an  age,  at  other  times,  but  a  short  time ;  and  tiie 
reason  of  this  difference. 

47.  In  what  respects  men  may  be,  and  often  are,  ignorant  of  their  own 
hearts  ;  and  how  this  comes  to  pass. 

48.  Concerning  the  Soul's  Union  with  the  Body,  its  Laws,  and  Consi>- 
quences. 

49.  One  section,  particularly  to  show  wheroin  Men  differ  from  Beasts. 

50.  In  how  many  respects  the  vory  Being  of  Created  things  depends  on 
Laws,  or  stated  methods,  tixed  by  God,  o*"  events  following  one  another. 

5L  Whether  all  the  Immediate  Objects  of  thf  mind,  arr-  properly  called 
Ideas;  and  what  inconvenience  and  confusion  yrisfs  from  giving  every 
Subjective  Thought  that  name.     What  prejudices  and  mistakes  it  leads  to. 


6t)8  APPENDIX. 

52.  In  what  respects  Ideas,  or  thoughts,  and  judgments,  may  be  said  to 
be  Innate^  and  in  what  respects  not. 

53.  Whether  there  could  have  ever  been  any  such  thing  as  Thought, 
without  External  Ideas,  immediately  impressed  by  God,  either  according 
to  some  law,  or  otherwise.  Whether  any  Spirit,  or  Angel,  could  have  any 
Thought,  if  it  had  not  been  for  this.  Here  particularly  explain  what  I 
mean  by  External  Ideas. 

54.  How  w^ords  came  to  have  such  a  mighty  influence  on  thought  and 
judgment,  by  virtue  of  the  Association  of  Ideas,  or  from  Ideas  being  ha- 
bitually tied  to  words. 

55.  How  far,  through  Habit,  men  move  their  bodies  without  thought  or 
consciousness. 

56.  Whether  Beauty,  (Natural  and  Moral,)  and  the  pleasure  that  arises 
from  it,  in  ourselves  or  others,  be  not  the  only  object  of  the  Will ;  or  whe- 
ther Truth  be  not  also  the  object  of  the  Will.* 


THE  MIND. 

[12.]  BEING.  It  seems  strange  sometimes  to  me,  that  there  should  he 
Being  from  all  Eternity  ;  and  I  am  ready  to  say,  What  need  was  there  that 
any  thing  should  be  ?  I  should  then  ask  myself,  Whether  it  seems  strange 
that  there  should  be  either  Something,  or  Nothing?  If  so,  it  is  not  strange 
that  there  should  be  ;  for  that  necessity  of  there  being  Something,  or  No- 
thing, implies  it. 

[2(5.]  CAUSE  is  that,  after  or  upon  the  existence  of  which,  or  the  exist- 
ence of  it  after  such  a  manner,  the  existence  of  another  thing  follows. 

[27.]  EXISTENCE.  Ifwe  had  only  the  sense  of  Seeing,weshould  not  be- 
as  ready  to  conclude  the  visible  world  to  have  been  an  existence  independent 
of  perception,  as  we  do ;  because  the  ideas  we  have  by  the  sense  of  Feeling, 
are  as  much  mere  ideas,  as  those  we  have  by  the  sense  of  Seeing.  But 
we  know,  that  the  things  that  are  objects  of  this  sense,  all  that  the  mind 
viewo  by  Seeing,  are  merely  mental  Existences  ;  because  all  these  things, 
with  all  their  modes,do  exist  in  a looking-glass,where  all  will  acknowledge, 
they  exist  only  mentally. 

It  is  now  agreed  upon  by  every  knowing  philosopher,  that  Colours  are 
not  really  in  the  things,  no  more  than  Pain  is  in  a  needle  ;  but  strictly  no 
where  else  but  in  the  mind.  But  yet  I  think  that  Colour  may  have  an  ex- 
istence out  of  the  mind,  with  equal  reason  as  any  thing  in  Body  has  any 
existence  out  of  the  mind,  beside  the  very  substance  of  the  body  itself, 
which  is  nothing  but  the  Divine  power,  or  rather  the  Constant  Exertion  of 
it.  For  what  idea  is  that,  which  we  call  by  the  name  of  Body  ?  I  find 
Colour  has  the  chief  share  in  it.  Tis  nothing  but  Colour,  and  Figure, 
which  is  the  termination  of  this  Colour,  together  with  some  powers,  !;uch 
as  the  power  of  resisting,  and  motion,  &c.  that  wholly  makes  up  what  we 
call  Body.  And  if  that,  which  we  principally  m^^an  by  the  thing  itself, 
cannot  be  said  to  be  in  the  thing  itself,  I  think  nothing  can  be.  If^Colour 
exists  not  out  of  the  mind,  then  nothing  belonging  to  Body,  exists  out  of 
the  mind  but  Resistance,  which  is  Solidity,  and  the  terniination  of  this 
Resistance,  with  its  relations,  which  is  Figure,  and  the  communication  of 
this  Resistance,  from  space  to  to  space,  which  is  Motion;  though  the  lat- 

*=  The  preceding  articles  were  set  down  from  time  to  time  at  the  close  of  thr 
work,  in  two  series  ;  the  first,  ending  with  No.  26. 


THE    III^D.  G6*> 

ter  are  nothing  but  modes  of  the  former.  Therefore,  there  is  nothing  out 
of  the  mind  but  Resistance.  And  not  that  neither,  wlien  notliing  is  actual- 
ly resisted.  Then,  there  is  nothing  but  tlie  Power  of  Resititance.  And  as 
Resistance  is  nothing  else  but  the  actual  exertion  of  Gods  power,  so  the 
Power  can  be  nothing  else,  but  the  constant  Law  or  Method  of  that  actual 
exertion.  And  how  is  there  any  Resistance,  except  it  be  in  some  mind, 
in  idea?  What  is  it  that  is  resisted?  It  is  not  Colour.  And  what  else  is 
it?  It  is  ridiculous  to  say,  that  Resistance  irresisted.  That,  does  not 
tell  us  at  all  what  is  to  be  resisted.  There  must  be  something  resisted  be- 
fore there  can  be  Resistance;  but  to  say  Resistance  is  resisted,  is  ridiculous- 
ly to  suppose  Resistance,  before  there  is  any  thing  to  be  resisted.  Let 
us  suppose  two  globes  only  existing,  and  no  mind.  There  is  nothing  there, 
ex  confesso,  but  Resistance.  That  is,  there  is  such  a  Law,  that  the  space 
withm  the  limits  of  a  globular  figure  shall  resist.  Therefore,  there  is  no- 
thing there  but  a  power,  or  an  establishment.  And  if  there  be  any  Resist 
ance  really  out  of  the  mmd,  one  power  and  establishment  must  resist  ano- 
ther establishment  and  law  of  Resistance,  which  is  exceedingly  ridiculous. 
But  yet  it  cannot  be  otherwise,  if  any  way  out  of  the  mind.  But  now  it  is 
easy  to  conceive  of  Resistance,  as  a  mode  of  an  idea.  It  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive of  such  a  power,  or  constant  manner  of  stopping  or  resisting  a  colour. 
The  idea  may  be  resisted,  it  may  move,  and  stop  and  rebound;  but  how  a 
mere  power,  which  is  nothing  real,  can  move  and  stop,  is  inconceivable, 
and  it  is  impossible  to  say  a  word  about  it  without  contradiction.  The 
world  is  therefore  an  ideal  one ;  and  the  Law  of  creating,  and  the  suc- 
cession,of  these  ideas  is  constant  and  regular. 

[28.]  Coroll.  1.  How  impossible  is  it,  that  the  world  should  exist  from 
Eternity,  without  a  Mind. 

[30.]  Coroll.  2.  Since  it  is  so,  and  that  absolute  Nothing  is  such  a  dread- 
ful contradiction  ;  hence  we  learn  the  necessity  of  the  Eternal  Existence  of 
an  All-comprehending  Mind  ;  and  that  it  is  the  complication  of  all  contra- 
dictions to  deny  such  a  mind. 

[34.]  When  we  say  that  the  World,  i.  e.  the  material  Universe,  exists  no 
where  but  in  the  mind,  we  have  got  to  such  a  degree  of  strictness  and  ab- 
straction, that  we  must  be  exceedingly  careful,  that  we  do  not  confound 
and  lose  ourselves  by  misapprehension.  That  is  impossible,  that  it  should 
be  meant,  that  all  the  world  is  contained  in  the  narrow  compass  of  a  fevv 
inches  of  space,  in  httle  ideas  in  the  place  of  the  brain  ;  for  that  would  be 
a  contradiction ;  for  we  are  to  remember  that  the  human  body,  and  the 
brain  itself,  exist  only  mentally,  in  the  same  sense  that  other  things  do; 
and  so  that,  which  we  call  place,  is  an  idea  too.  Therefore  things  are 
truly  in  those  places ;  for  what  we  mean,  when  we  say  so,  is  only,  that  this 
mode  of  our  idea  of  place  appertains  to  such  an  idea.  We  would  not 
therefore  be  understood  to  deny,  that  things  are  where  they  seem  to  be. 
For  the  principles  we  lay  down,  if  they  are  narrowly  looked  into,  do  not 
infer  that.  Nor  will  it  be  found,  that  they  at  all  make  void  Natural  Phi- 
losophy, or  the  science  of  the  Causes  or  Reasons  of  corporeal  changes  ; 
For  to  find  out  the  reasons  of  things,  in  Natural  Philosephy,  is  only  to  find 
out  the  proportion  of  God's  acting.  And  the  case  is  the  same,  as  to  such 
proportions,  whether  we  suppose  the  World,  only  mental,  in  our  sense, 
or  no. 

Though  we  suppose,  that  the  existence  of  the  whole  material  Universe 
is  absolutely  dependent  on  Idea,  yet  we  may  speak  in  the  old  way,  and  as 
properly,  and  truly  as  ever.     God,  In  the  beginning,  created  such  a  certain 


670  APPENDIX. 

number  of  Atoms,  of  such  a  determinate  bulk  and  figure,  which  they  yet 
maintain  and  always  will,  and  gave  them  such  a  motion,  of  such  a  direc- 
tion, and  of  such  a  degree  of  velocity  ;  from  whence  arisf*  all  the  Natural 
changes  in  the  Universe,  forever,  in  a  continued  series.  Yet,  perhaps  all 
this  does  not  exist  any  whore  perfectly,  but  in  the  Divine  Mind.  But  then, 
if  it  be  enquired,  What  exists  in  the  Divine  Mind  ;  and  how  these  things 
exist  there  ?  1  answer,  There  is  his  determination,  his  care,  and  his  de- 
sign, that  Ideas  shall  be  united  forever,  juit  so,  and  in  such  a  manner,  as 
is  agreeable  to  such  a  series.  For  instance,  all  the  ideas  that  ever  were, 
or  ever  shall  be  to  all  eternity,  in  any  created  mind,  are  answerable  to  the 
existence  of  such  a  peculiar  Atom  in  the  beginning  of  the  Creation,  of 
such  a  determinate  figure  and  size,  and  have  such  a  motion  given  it :  That 
is,  they  are  all  such,  as  [nfinite  Wisdom  sees  would  follow,  according  to 
the  series  of  nature,  from  such  an  Atom,  so  moved.  That  is,  all  ideal 
changes  of  creatures  are  just  so,  as  if  just  such  a  particular  Atom  had 
actually  all  along  existed  even  in  some  finite  mind,  and  never  had  been  out 
of  that  mind,  and  had,  in  that  mind,  caused  these  effects,  which  are  exact- 
ly according  to  nature,  that  is,  according  to  the  nature  of  other  matter^ 
that  is  actually  perceived  by  the  mind.  God  supposes  its  existence;  that 
is,  he  causes  all  changes  to  arise,  as  if  aU  these  things  had  actually  existed 
in  such  a  series,' in  some  created  mind,  and  as  if  created  minds  had  compre- 
hended all  things  perfectly.  And,  although  created  minds  do  not;  yet,  the 
Divine  Mind  doth  ;  and  he  orders  all  things  according  to  his  mind,  and  his 
ideas.  And  these  hidden  things  do  not  only  exist  in  the  Divine  idea,  but  in  a 
sense  in  created  idea  ;  for  that  exists  in  created  idea,  which  necessarily 
supposes  it.  If  a  ball  of  lead  were  supposed  to  be  let  fall  iVom  the  clouds, 
and  no  eye  saw  it,  'till  it  got  within  ten  rods  of  the  ground,  and  then  its 
motion  and  celerity  was  perfectly  discerned  in  its  exact  proportion ;  if  it 
were  not  for  the  imperfection  and  slowness  of  our  minds,  the  perfect  idea 
of  the  rest  of  the  motion  would  immediately,  and  of  itself  arise  in  the 
mind,  as  well  as  that  which  is  there.  So,  were  our  thoughts  comprehen- 
sive and  perfect  enough,  our  view  of  the  present  state  of  the  world,  would 
excite  in  us  a  perfect  idea  of  all  past  changes. 

And  we  need  not  perplex  our  minds  with  athousaud  questions  and  doubts 
that  will  seem  to  arise  :  as.  To  what  purpose  is  this  way  of  exciting  ideas; 
and.  What  advantage  is  there  in  observing  such  a  series.  I  answer.  It  i» 
just  all  one,  as  to  any  benefit  or  advantage,  any  end  that  we  can  suppose 
was  proposed  by  the  Creator,  as  if  the  Material  Universe  were  existent  in 
the  same  manner  as  is  vulgarly  thought.  For  the  corporeal  world  is  to  no 
advantage  but  to  the  spiritual ;  and  it  is  exactly  the  same  advantage  this 
way  as  the  other,  for  it  is  all  one,  as  to  any  thing  excited  in  the  mind. 

[51.]  It  is  hardly  proper  to  say,  that  the  dependence  of  ideas  of  sensation, 
upon  the  organs  of  the  body,is  only  the  dependence  of  some  of  our  ideas  upon 
others.  For  the  organs  of  our  bodies,  are  not  our  ideas,  in  a  proper  sense, 
though  their  existence  be  only  mental.  Yet  there  is  no  necessity  of  their 
existing  actually  in  our  minds,  but  they  exist  mentally,  in  the  same  manner 
as  has  been  explained.  See  Appendix  ^p.  669,^^0.  34.  The  dependence  of  our 
ideas  upon  the  organs,  is  the  dependence  of  our  ideas  on  our  bodies,  after 
the  manner  there  explained,  mentally  existing.  And  if  it  be  enquired,  To 
what  purpose  is  this  way  of  exciting  ideas  ?  I  answer.  To  exactly  the  same 
purpose  as  can  be  supposed,  if  our  organs  are  actually  existing,  in  the 
manner  vulgarly  conceived,  as  to  any  manner  of  benefit,  or  end,  that  can 
be  mentioned. 

It  is  not  proper  at  all,  nor  doth  it  express  the  thing  we  would,  to  say 


THE    MIN©.  671 

thAil  bodies  do  not  exist  withovi  the  mind.  For  the  scheme  will  not  allow  the 
mind  to  be  supposed  ileterniined  to  any  place,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make 
that  proper;  ior  Plate  itstlj  is  menial,  and  Within  and  ff"i7/<ou'/,  are  niere 
mental  conceptions.  Tlieretore,  that  way  ot  expressmg,  will  lead  us  into 
a  thousand  diiliculties  and  perplexities.  But  when  1  say,  the  Material 
Universe  exists  only  in  the  mind,  1  mean,  that  it  is  absolutely  dependent 
on  the  conception  of  the  mind  tor  its  existence,  aud  does  not  exist  as  Spirits 
do,  whose  existence  does  not  consist  in,  nor  in  dependence  on,  the  concep- 
tion of  other  minds.  We  must  be  exceedingly  caret'ul,  lest  we  confound  our- 
selves in  these  by  mere  imagination.  It  is  from  hence  I  expect  the  great- 
est opposition.  It  will  appear  a  ridiculous  thing,  1  suppose,  that  the  ma- 
terial world  exists  no  where,  but  in  the  soul  of  man,  confined  within  his 
skull ;  but  we  must  again  remember  what  sort  of  existence  the  head  and 
brain  have. — The  soul,  in  a  sense,  has  its  seat  in  the  brain;  and  so,  in  a 
sense,  the  visible  world  is  existent  out  of  the  mind,  for  it  certainly,  in  the 
most  proper  sense,  exists  out  of  the  brain. 

[36. J  Things,  as  to  God,  exist  from  all  Eternity,  alike ;  that  is,  the  idea  is 
always  the  same,  and  after  the  same  mode.  The  existence  of  things,  there- 
fore, that  are  not  actually  in  created  minds,  cons^ists  only  in  Power,  or  in 
the  Determination  of  God,  that  such  "and  such  ideas  shall  be  raised  in  crea- 
ted minds,  upon  such  conditions. 

[40.]  Since  all  material  existence  is  only  idea,  this  question  may  be  asked. 
In  what  sense  may  those  things  be  said  to  exist,  which  are  supposed,  and  ye 
are  in  no  actual  idea  of  any  Created  minds  ?  I  answer,  they  exist  only  in  Un- 
created idea.  But  how  do  they  exist,  otherwise  than  they  did  trcm  all  Eter- 
nity, for  tliey  always  were  inUncreated  idea  and  Divine  appointment.  I  an- 
swer. They  did  exist  from  all  Eternity  in  Uncreated  idea,  as  did  every  thing 
else,  and  as  they  do  at  present,  but  not  in  Created  idea.  But  it  may  be 
asked,  How  do  those  things  exist,  which  have  an  actual  existence,  but  of 
which  no  created  mind  is  conscious? — For  instance,  the  Furniture  of  this 
room,  when  we  are  absent,  and  the  room  is  shut  up,  and  no  created  mind 
perceives  it ;  How  do  these  things  exist  ? — I  answer,  There  ha^  been  in 
times  past  such  a  course  and  succession  of  existences,  that  these  things 
must  be  supposed  to  make  the  series  complete,  according  to  Divine  ap- 
pointment, of  the  order  of  things.  And  there  will  be  innumerable  things 
consequential,  which  will  be  out  of  joint,  out  of  their  constituted  series, 
without  the  supposition  of  these.  For,  upon  supposition  of  these  things, 
are  infinite  numbers  of  things  otherwise  than  they  Vv'ould  be,  if  these  were 
not  by  God  thus  supposed.  Yea,  the  whole  Universe  would  be  otherwise ; 
fiuch  an  influence  have  these  things,  by  their  attraction  and  otherwise. 
Yea,  there  must  be  an  universal  attraction^  m  the  whole  system  of  things, 
from  the  beginning  of  the  world  to  the  end  ;  and,  to  speak  more  strictly  and 
metaphysically,  we  must  say,  in  the  whole  system  and  series  of  ideas  hi  all 
Created  minds;  so  that  these  things  must  necessarily  be  put  in,  to  make 
complete  the  system  of  the  ideal  world.  That  is,  they  must  be  supposed, 
ifthe  train  of  ideas  be,  in  the  order  and  course,  settled  by  the  Supreme  mind. 
So  that  we  may  answer  in  short.  That  the  existence  of  these  things  is  in 
God's  supposing  of  them,  in  order  to  the  rendering  complete  tin;  series  of 
things,  (to  speak  more  strictly,  the  series  of  ideas.)  according  to  his  own  set- 
tled order,  and  that  harmony  of  things,  which  he  has  appointed. — The  sup- 
position of  God,  which  we  speak  of,  is  nothing  else  but  God's  acting,  in  the 
course  and  series  of  his  exciting  ideas,  as  if  they,  (the  things  supposed,) 
ivere  in  actual  idea. 

But  you  may  object.  But  there  are  many  things  so  infinitely  small,  that 


<572  APPENDIXi 

their  influence  is  altogether  insensible  ;  so  that,  whether  they  are  supposed 
or  not,  rhere  will  no  alt-ration  be  made  in  the  series  ui  Ideas.  Answer, 
Bat  utough  the  influence  is  so  small,  that  we  do  not  perceive,  yet.  who 
knows  how  penetrating  other  spirits-  may  be,  to  perceive  the  minutest  alte- 
rations. And  whether  the  alterations  be  sensible,  or  not,  at  present,  yet 
the  eflect  of  the  least  influence  will  be  sensible,  in  time.  For  instance, 
L'3t  there  be  supi>osed  to  be  a  Leaden  Globe,  of  a  mile  in  diameter,  to  be 
moving  in  a  right  line,  with  the  swiftness  of  a  cannon  ball,  in  the  Inhnite 
Voids  .ind  let  it  pass  by  a  very  small  Atom,  supposed  to  be  at  rest.  This 
AlDai  will  somewhat  retard  this  Leaden  Globe  in  its  motion,  though  at 
firaL  and  perhaps  for  many  ages,  the  dirrercnce  is  altogether  insensible. 
But  let  it  be  never  so  little,  in  time  it  will  become  very  sensible.  For  if 
the  motion  is  made  so  mucli  siower,  that  in  a  million  of  years  it  shall  have 
moved  one  inch  less  than  it  would  have  done  otherwise,  in  a  mflhon  million 
it  will  have  moved  a  mdlion  inches  less.  So  now  the  least  Atom,  by  its 
existence  or  motion,  causes  an  alteration,  more  or  less,  in  every  other 
Atom  in  the  Universe :  so  the  alteration  in  tune  will  become  very  sensible ; 
so  the  whole  Univer.?c,  in  time,  will  become  all  over  difieient  from  what  it 
would  otherwi-e  liave  been.  Tor  if  every  other  Atom  is  supposed  to  be  ei- 
ther retarded,  or  accelerated,  or  diverted;  every  Atoni,  however  small  tor  the 
present,  will  cause  great  alterations,  as  we  have  shown  already,  or  Retarda- 
tion. The  case  is  the  same  as  to  Acceleration  ;  and  so  as  to  Diversion,  or 
varying  the  direction  of  the  motion.  For  let  the  course  of  the  body  be 
never  so  liltle  changed,  this  course,  in  time,  may  carry  it  to  a  place  im- 
men.'^ely  distant  from  what  the  otiier  would  have  carried  it  to,  as  is  evident 
enough.  And  the  case  is  the  same  still,  if  the  motion  that  was  before  was 
never  so  slow  is  wholly  stopped ;  the  difference,  in  time,  will  be  immense ; 
for  this  slow  motion  would  have  carried  it  to  an  immense  distance,  if  it 
-were  continued. 

But  the  O  'jector  will  say,  I  acknowledge  it  would  be  thus,  if  the  bodies, 
in  which  these  insensible  alterations  are  made,  were  free,  and  alone,  in 
an  Infini'e  Void,  but  I  do  not  know  but  the  case  maybe  far  otherwise, 
when  an  insensible  alteration  is  made  in  a  body,  that  is  among  innumerable 
others,  and  subject  to  infinite  jumbles  among  them. — Answer.  The 
case  is  the  same,  whether  the  bodies  be  alone  in  a  Void,  or  in  a  Sys- 
tem of  other  bodies ;  for  the  influence  of  this  insensible  alteration  con- 
tinues as  steadily  forever,  through  all  its  various  interchanges  and  colli- 
sions with  other  bodies,  as  it  would  if  it  were  alone  in  an  Infinite  Void: 
so  that  in  time,  a  particle  of  matter,  that  shall  be  on  this  side  of  the  Uni- 
verse, might  have  been  on  the  other.  The  existence  and  motion  of  every 
Atom,  has  influence,  more  or  less,  on  the  motion  of  all  other  bodies  in  the 
Universe,  great  or  small,  as  is  most  demonstrable  from  the  Laws  of  Gravity 
and  Motion.  An  alteration,  more  or  less,  as  to  motion,  is  made  on  every 
Fixed  Star,  and  on  all  its  Planets,  Primary  and  Secondary.  Let  the  alter- 
ation made  in  the  Fixed  Stars,  be  never  so  small,  yet  in  time  it  will  make 
an  infinite  alteration,  from  whatotherwise  would  have  been.  Let  the  Fixed 
Stars  be  supposed,  for  instance,  bctbre  to  have  been  in  perfect  rest ;  let 
them  now  be  all  set  in  motion,  and  this  motion  be  never  so  small,  yet.  con- 
tinued forever,  where  will  it  carry  those  most  immense  bodies,  with  their 
Systems.  Let  a  little  alteration  be  made  in  the  motion  of  the  Planets, 
either  Retaroation  or  Acceleration;  this,  in  time,  will  make  a  difterence 
of  many  millions  of  Revolutions :  and  how  great  a  diflerence  will  that 
make  in  the  floating  bodies  of  the  Universe. 

Coroll.  By  this  we  may  answer  a  more  difficult  question,  viz.  If  mate- 
rial existence  be  only  mental,  then  our  bodi-^s  and  organs  are  ideas  only; 
■and  then  in  what  sense  is  it  true,  that  the  Mind  receives  ideas  by  the  Or- 


THE   MIND.  673 

gans  of  Sense ;  seeing  that  the  Organs  of  Sense,  themselves,  exist  nowhere 
but  in  the  Mind  ? — Ansiocr.  Seeing  our  Organs,  themselves,  are  ideas ; 
the  connection,  that  our  ideas  have'with  such  and  such  a  mode  of  our  Orgunsj 
is  no  other  than  God  s  constitution,  that  some  of  our  ideas  shall  be  con- 
nected   with    others,    according    to   such    a    settled    Law    and    Order, 

so    that    some   ideas    shall    tbllow  from   others  as   their   cause. But 

how  can  this  be,  seeing  that  ideas  most  commonly  arise  from  Organs, 
when  we  have  no  idea  of  the  mode  of  our  Organs,  or  the  manner  of  exter- 
nal objects  being  apphed  to  them  ?  I  answer,  Our  Organs,  and  the  mo- 
tions in  them  and  to  them,  exist  in  the  manner  explained  above. 

"  Plato,  in  his  "  Subterranean  Cave,"  so  famously  known,  and  so  ele- 
gantly described  by  him,  supposes  men  tied  with  their  backs  towards  the 
Light,  placed  at  a  great  distance  from  them,  so  that  they  could  not  turn 
about  their  heads  to  it  neither,  and  therefore  could  see  nothing  but  the 
shadows  of  certain  substances  behind  them,  projected  from  it;  which  sha- 
dows they  concluded  to  be  the  only  substance  and  realities.  And  when 
they  heard  the  sounds  made  by  those  bodies,  that  were  betwixt  the  Light 
and  them,  or  their  reverberated  echoes,  they  imputed  them  to  those  sha- 
dows w^hich  they  saw.  All  this  is  a  description  of  the  state  of  those  men, 
who  take  Body  to  be  the  only  Real  and  Substantial  Thing  in  the  w^orld, 
and  to  do  all  that  is  done  in  it ;  and  therefore  often  impute  Sense,  Reason 
and  Understanding,  to  nothing  but  Blood  and  Brains  in  us." 

Cudworth/s  Intellectual  System. 

[9.]  SPACE.  Space,  as  has  been  already  observed,isanecessary  being,  if 
it  may  be  called  a  being ;  and  yet  we  have  also  shown,  that  all  existence  is 
mental,  that  the  existence  of  all  exterior  things  is  ideal.  Therefore  it.  ia  a 
necessary  being,  only  as  it  is  a  necessary  idea,  so  far  as  it  is  a  simple  idea, 
that  is  necessarily  connected  with  other  simple  exterior  ideas,  and  is,  as  it 
were,  their  common  substance  or  subject.  It  is  in  the  same  manner  a  ne- 
cessary being,  as  any  thing  external  is  a  being. 

Coroll.  It  is  hence  easy  to  see  in  what  sense  that  is  true,  that  has  been 
held  by  some,  That,  when  there  is  nothing  between  any  two  bodies,  they 
unavoidably  must  touch. 

[13.]  The  real  and  necessary  existence  of  Space,  and  its  Infinity,  even  be- 
yond the  Universe,  depend  upon  a  like  reasoning  as  the  Extension  of  Spirits, 
and  to  the  supposition  of  the  reality  of  the  existence  of  a  Successive  Du- 
ration, before  the  Universe :  even  the  impossibility  of  removing  the  idea 
out  of  the  mind.  If  it  be  asked.  If  there  bo  Limits  of  the  Creation,  whe- 
ther or  no  it  be  not  possible  that  an  Intelligent  being  shall  be  removed 
beyond  the  limits ;  and  then  whether  or  no  there  would  not  be  distance 
between  that  Intelligent  being  and  the  limits  of  the  Universe,  in  the  same 
manner,  and  as  properlv  as  there  is  between  Intelligent  beings  and  the 
parts  of  the  Universe,  within  its  limits  ;  I  answer,  I  cannot  tell  what  the 
Law  of  Nature,  or  the  Constitution  of  God,  would  be  in  this  case. 

Coroll.  There  is,  therefore,  no  difficulty  in  answering  such  questions  as 
these.  What  cause  was  there  why  the  Universe  was  placed  in  such  a  part 
of  Space  ?  and.  Why  was  the  Universe  created  at  such  a  Time  ?  for,  if 
there  be  no  Space  beyond  the  Universe,  it  was  impossible  that  it  should  be 
created  in  another  place ;  and  if  there  was  no  Time  before,  it  was  impossi- 
ble it  should  be  created  at  another  time. 

Thv  idea  we  have  of  Space,  and  ^vhat  we  call  by  that  naiae,  n  onJv 
Vol.  I.  8-^ 


674  APPENDIX. 

Coloured  Space,  and  is  entirely  taken  out  of  the  mind,  if  Colour  be  takefe 
away.  And  so  all  that  we  call  Extension,  Motion  and  Figure,  is  gone,  it" 
Colour  is  gone.  As  to  any  idea  of  Space,  Extension,  Distance,  or  Motion, 
that  a  man  born  blind  might  form,  it  would  be  nothing  like  what  we  call 
by  those  names.  All  that  he  could  have  would  be  only  certain  sensations 
or  feelings,  that  in  themselves  would  be  no  more  like  what  we  intend  by 
Space,  Motion,  etc.  than  the  pain  w^e  have  by  the  scratch  of  a  pin,  or  than 
the  ideas  of  taste  and  smell.  And  as  to  the  idea  of  Motion,  that  such  an 
one  could  have,  it  could  be  only  a  diversification  of  those  successions  in  a 
certain  way,  by  succession  as  to  time.  And  then  there  would  be  an  agree- 
ment ot  these  successions  of  sensations,  with  some  ideas  we  have  by  sight, 
as  to  number  and  proportions;  but  yet  the  ideas,  after  all, nothing  akin  to 
that  idea  we  now  give  this  name  to.- -And,  as  it  is  very  plain.  Colour  ig 
only  in  the  mind,  and  nothing  like  it  can  be  out  of  all  mind.  Hence  it  is 
manifest,  there  can  be  nothing  like  those  things  we  call  by  the  name  of 
Bodies,  out  of  the  mind,  unless  it  be  in  some  other  mind  or  minds. 

And,  indeed  the  secret  lies  here :  That,  which  truly  is  the  Substance  of 
all  Bodies,  is  the  injinittly  exact,  and  precise^  and  perfectly  stable  Idea,  in 
God's  mind,  together  with  his  stable  Will^  that  the  same  shall  gradually  be 
communiccded  to  tw,  a7ul  to  other  minds,  according  to  certain  Jixed  and  exact 
established  Methods  and  Laws :  or  in  somewhat  different  language,  the  in- 
Jinitely  exact  and  precise  Divine  Idea,  together  with  an  answerable,  perfectly 
exact,  precise  and  stable  Will,  with  respect  to  correspondent  communications 
to  Created  Minds,  and  effects  on  their  minds. 

[61.]  SUBSTANCE.*  It  is  intuitively  certain,  that,  if  Solidity  be  remov- 
ed from  Body,  nothing  is  left  but  empty  space.  Now,  in  all  things  whatso- 
ever, that,  which  cannot  be  removed  without  removing  the  whole  thing, 
that  thing  which  is  removed  is  the  thing  itself,  except  it  be  mere  circum- 
stance and  manner  of  existence,  such  as  Time  and  Place;  which  are  in 
the  general  necessary,  because  it  implies  a  contradiction  to  existence  itself, 
to  suppose  that  it  exists  at  no  time  and  in  no  place,  and  therefore  in  order 
to  remove  time  and  place  in  the  general,  we  must  remove  the  thing  itself: 
So  if  we  remove  Figure  and  Bulk  and  Texture,  in  the  general ;  which 
may  be  reduced  to  that  necessary  circumstance  of  Place. 

If,  therefore,  it  implies  a  contradiction  to  suppose  that  Body,  or  any  thing 
appertaining  to  Body,  beside  Space,  exists,  when  Solidity  is  removed ;  it 
must  be,  either  because  Body  is  nothing  but  Solidity  and  Space,  or  else, 
that  Solidity  is  such  a  mere  circumstance  and  relation  of  existence,  which 
the  thing  cannot  be  witr.out,  because  whatever  exists  must  exist  in  some 
circumstances  or  other,  as  at  some  time  or  some  place.  But  we  know, 
and  every  one  perceives,  it  to  be  a  contradiction  to  suppose,  that  Body  or 
Matter  exists  without  Solidity,  for  all  the  notion  we  have  of  Empty  Space, 
is  Space  without  Solidity,  and  all  the  notion  we  have  of  Full  Space,  is 
Space  Resisting. 

The  reason  is  plain  ;  for  if  it  implies  a  contradiction  to  suppose  Solidity 
absent,  and  the  thing  existing,  it  must  be  because  Solidity  is  that  thing, 
and  so  it  is  a  contradiction  to  say  the  thing  is  absent  from  itself;  or  because 
it  is  such  a  mode,  or  circumstance,  or  relation,  of  the  existence,  as  it  is  a 
contradiction  to  suppose  existence  at  all  without  it,  such  as  Time  and  Place, 
to  which  both  Figure  and  Texture  are  reduced.  For  nothing  can  be  con- 
ceived of,  so  necessarily  in  an  existence,  that  it  is  a  contradiction  to  sup- 

*This  article,  and  the  numbers  following,  viz.  62,  63,  etc.  are  inserted  in  th* 
manuscript  distinctly  from  the  rest,  and  were  written  probably  at  a  somewhat 
later  period  of  iife% 


THE    MINI*.  67^ 

pose  it  without  it,  but  the  Existence  itself,  and  those  general  Circumstan- 
ces or  Relations  of  existence,  which  the  very  supposition  of  existence  it- 
self implies. 

Again,  Solidity  or  Impenetrability  is  as  much  Action,  or  the  immediate 
result  of  Action,  as  Gravity.  Gravity  by  all  will  be  confessed  to  be  im- 
mediately from  some  active  influence.  Being  a  continual  tendency  in  bo- 
dies to  move,  and  being  that,  which  will  sot  them  in  motion  though  before 
at  perfect  rest,  it  must  be  the  effect  of  somethwig  acting  on  that  body. 
And  it  is  as  clear  and  evident,  that  action  is  as  requisite  to  stop  a  body,  that 
is  already  in  motion,  as  in  order  to  set  bodies  a  moving,  that  are  at  perfect 
rest.  Now  we  see  continually,  that  there  is  a  stopping  of  all  motion,  at 
the  limits  of  such  and  such  parts  of  Space,  only  this  stoppage  is  moditied 
and  diversified  according  to  certain  Laws ;  for  we  get  the  idea  and  appre- 
hension of  SoUdity,  only  and  entirely,  from  the  observation  we  make  of 
that  ceasing  of  motion,  at  the  limits  of  some  parts  of  Space,  that  already 
is,  and  that  beginning  of  motion,  that  till  now  was  not,  ccordmg  to  a  cer- 
tain constant  manner. 

And  why  is  it  not  every  whit  as  reasonable,  that  we  should  attribute 
this  action  or  effect,  to  the  influence  of  some  Agent,  as  that  other  action 
or  effect  which  we  call  Gravity;  which  is  likewise  derived  from  our  ob- 
servation of  the  beginning  and  ceasing  of  motion,  according  to  a  certain 
method?  In  either  case,  there  is  nothing  observed,  but  the  beginning,  in- 
creasing, directing,  diminishing  and  ceasing  of  motion.  And  why  is  it 
not  as  reasonable  to  seek  a  reason,  beside  that  general  one,  that  it  is 
something ;  which  is  no  reason  at  all  ?  I  say.  Why  is  it  not  as  reasonable 
to  seek  a  reason  or  cause  of  these  actions,  as  well  in  one  as  in  the 
other  case  ?  We  do  not  think  it  sufficient  to  say,  It  is  the  nature  of  the  un- 
known substance,  in  the  one  case ;  and  why  should  we  think  it  a  sufficient 
explication  of  the  same  actions  or  effects,  in  the  other.  By  Substance,  I 
suppose  it  is  confessed,  we  mean  only  Something ;  because  of  Abstract 
Substance  we  have  no  idea,  that  is  more  particular  than  only  existence 
in  general.  Now  why  is  it  not  as  reasonable,  when  we  see  something 
suspended  in  the  air,  set  to  move  with  violence  towards  the  Earth,  to  rest 
in  attributing  of  it  to  the  nature  of  the  something  that  is  there;  as 
when  we  see  that  motion,  when  it  comes  to  such  limits,  all  on  a  sudden 
cease,  for  this  is  all  that  we  observe  in  falling  bodies.  Their  falhng  ia 
the  action  we  call  Gravity:  their  stopping  upon  the  surface  of  the  Eartli, 
the  action  whence  we  gain  the  idea  of  Solidity.  It  was  before  agreed  on 
all  hands,  that  there  is  something  there,  that  supports  that  resistance.  It 
must  be  granted  now,  that  that  Something  is  a  Being,  that  acts  there,  as 
much  as  that  Being,  that  causes  bodies  to  descend  towards  the  centre. 
Here  is  something  in  these  parts  of  space,  that  of  itself  produces  effects, 
without  previously  being  acted  upon  ;  for  that  Being  that  lays  an  arrest 
on  bodies  in  motion,  and  immediately  stops  them  when  they  come  to  such 
limits  and  bounds,  certainly  does  as  much,  as  that  Behig  that  sets  a  body 
in  motion,  that  before  was  at  rest.  Now  this  Being,  acting  altogether  of 
itself,  producing  new  effects,  that  are  perfectly  arbitrary,  and  that  are  noway 
necessary  of  themselves  ;  must  be  Intelligent  and  Voluntary.  There  is 
no  reason,  in  the  nature  of  the  thing  itself,  why  a  body,  when  set  in  mo- 
tion, should  stop  at  such  hmits,  more  than  at  any  other.  It  must  therefore 
be  some  arbitrary,  active  and  voluntary,  Being,  that  determines  it.  If 
there  were  but  one  body  in  the  Universe,  that  always  in  time  past  had 
been  at  rest,  and  should  now,  witJiout  any  alteration,  be  set  in  motion; 
we  might  certainly  conclude,  that  some  voluntary  Being  set  it  in  motion, 
because  it  can  certainly  be  demonstrated,  that  it  can  be  for  no  other  reason. 
So  with  just  the  same  reason,  in  the  same  manner,  we  may  conclude,  if 
the  body  had  hitherto  been  in  motion,  and  is  at  a  certain  point  of  tipace 


676  APPENDIX. 

now  stopped.  And  would  it  not  be  every  whit  as  reasonable  to  eon- 
elude,  it  must  be  trom  such  an  Agent,  as  if,  in  certain  portions  of  space, 
we  observed  bodies  to  be  attracted  a  certain  way,  and  so  at  once  to  be  set 
into  motion,  or  accelerated  in  motion.  And  it  is  not  at  all  the  less  remarka- 
ble- because  we  receive  the  ideas  of  light  and  colours  from  those  spaces; 
for  we  know  that  light  and  colours  are  not  there,  and  are  made  entirely 
by  such  a  resistance,  together  with  attraction,  that  is  antecedent  to  these 
qualities,  and  would  be  a  necessary  etfect  of  a  mere  resistance  of  space 
without  other  substance. 

The  whole  of  wiiat  we  any  way  observe,  whereby  we  get  the  idea  of  So- 
lidity, or  Solid  Body,  are  certain  parts  of  Space,  trom  whence  we  receive 
the  ideas  of  light  and  colours;  and  certain  sensations  by  the  sense  of  feel- 
ing; and  we  observe  that  tne  places,  whence  we  receive  these  sensations, 
are  not  constantly  the  same,  but  are  successively  ditierent,  and  this  hght 
and  colours  are  communicated  from  one  part  of  space  to  another.  And  we 
observe  that  these  parts  of  Space,  from  whence  we  receive  these  sensa- 
tions, resist  and  stop  other  bodies,  which  we  observe  communicated  suc- 
cessively through  the  parts  of  Space  adjacent;  and  that  those  that  there  were 
before  at  rest,  or  existing  constantly  in  one  and  the  same  part  of  Space, 
after  this  exist  successively  in  different  parts  of  Space,  and  these  observa- 
tions are  according  to  certain  staled  rules.  I  appeal  to  any  one  that 
takes  notice  and  asks  himself;  whether  this  be  not  all,  that  ever  he  expe- 
rienced in  the  world,  whereby  he  got  these  ideas  ;  and  that  this  is  all 
that  we  have  or  can  have  any  idea  of,  in  relation  to  bodies.  All  that  we 
observe  of  Solidity  is,  that  certain  parts  of  Space,  from  whence  we  receive 
the  ideas  of  light  and  colours,  and  a  few  other  sensations,  do  likewise  re- 
sist any  thing  coming  within  them.  It  therefore  follows,  that  if  we 
suppose  there  be  any  thing  else,  than  what  we  thus  observe,  it  is  but 
only  by  way  of  Inference. 

I  know  that  it  is  nothing  but  the  Imagination  will  oppose  me  in  this :  I 
will  therefore  endeavour  to  help  the  Imagination  thus.  Suppose  that  we  re- 
ceived none  of  the  sensible  qualities  of  hght,  colours,  etc.  from  the  resist- 
ing parts  of  Space,  (we  will  suppose  it  possible  for  resistance  to  be  without 
them,)  and  they  were,  to  appearance,  clear  and  pure ;  and  all  thai  we 
could  possibly  observe,  was  only  and  merely  Resistance  ;  we  simply  ob- 
served that  Motion  was  resisted  and  stopped,  here  and  there,  in  particular 
parts  of  Infinite  Space.  Should  we  not  then  think  it  less  unreasonable  to 
suppose,  that  such  effects  should  be  produced  by  some  Agent,  present  in 
those  parts  of  Space,  though  Invisible.  If  we,  when  walking  upon  the 
face  of  the  Earth,  were  stopped  at  certain  limits,  and  could  not  possibly 
enter  into  such  a  part  of  Space,  nor  make  any  body  enter  into  it ;  and  we 
eould  observe  no  other  difference,  no  way,  nor  at  any  time,  between  that 
and  other  parts  of  clear  space ;  should  we  not  be  ready  to  say.  What  is  it 
stops  us ;  What  is  it  hinders  all  entrance  into  that  place? 

The  reason,  why  it  is  so  exceedingly  natural  to  men,  to  suppose  that 
there  is  some  Latent  Substance,  or  Something  that  is  altogether  hid,  that 
upholds  the  properties  of  bodies,  is,  because  all  see  at  first  sight,  that  the 
properties  of  bodies  are  such  as  need  some  Cause,  that  shall  every  moment 
have  influence  to  their  continuance,  as  well  as  a  Cause  of  their  first  exist- 
ence. All  therefore  agree,  that  there  is  Something  that  is  there,  and  upholds 
these  properties.  And  it  is  most  true,  there  undoubtedly  is ;  but  men  are 
wont  to  content  themselves  in  saying  merely,  that  it  is  Something ;  but 
that  Something  is  He,  "  by  whom  all  things  consist." 

[25.]  The  distribution  of  the  objects  of  our  thoughts,  into  Substances  and 
Modes,  may  be  proper;  if,  by  Substance,  we  understand,  a  complexion  of 
such  ideas,  which  we  conceive  of  as  subsisting  together,  and  by  themselves; 


THE    MINB.  G77 

and,  by  Modes,  those  simple  ideas  which  cannot  be  by  themselves,  or  sub- 
sist in  our  mind  alone. 

[38.]  BODY  INFINITE  ?  If  we  dispute,  whether  Body  is  capable  of  be- 
ing infinite ;  let  us  in  the  first  place  put  the  question,  Whether  motion  can 
be  infinite ;  that  is,  Whether  there  can  be  a  motion  infinitely  swift.  1  sup- 
pose that  every  one  will  see,  that,  if  a  body  moved  with  infinite  swiftness,  it 
would  be  in  every  part  of  the  distance  passed  through  exactly  at  once,  and 
therefore  it  could  not  be  said  to  move  from  one  part  of  it  to  another.  Infi- 
nite motion  is  therefore  a  contradiction.  Supposing  therefore  a  Body  were 
infinitely  great,  it  could  doubtless  be  moved  by  Infinite  Power,  and  turned 
round  some  point  or  axis.  But  if  that  were  possible,  it  is  evident  that  some 
part  of  that  Infinite  Body  would  move  with  Infinite  Swittness;  which  we 
have  seen  is  a  contradiction.     Body  therefore  cannot  be  infinite. 

[21.]  MATTER.  THOUGHT.  It  has  been  a  question  with  some,  Whe- 
ther or  no  it  wa^  not  possible  with  God,  to  the  other  properties  or  pov.  ers 
of  Matter  to  add  that  of  Thought ;  whether  he  could  not,  if  he  had  pleased, 
have  added  Thinking,  and  the  power  of  Perception,  to  those  other  proper- 
ties of  Solidity,  Mobility  and  Gravitation.  The  question  is  not  here, 
Whetner  the  Matter  that  now  is,  without  the  addition  of  any  new  primary 
property,  could  not  be  so  contrived  and  modelled,  so  attenuated,  wrought 
and  moved,  as  to  produce  thought;  but,  whether  any  Lump  of  mattrr,  a 
solid  Atom,  for  instance,  is  not  capable  of  receiving,  by  the  Almighty 
Power  of  God,  in  addition  to  the  rest  of  its  powers,  a  new  power  of 
thought. 

Here,  if  the  question  be.  Whether  or  no  God  cannot  cause  the  faculty 
of  thinking  to  be  so  added  to  any  parcel  of  matter,  so  as  to  be  in  the  same 
place,  (if  thought  can  be  in  place,)  and  that  inseparably,  where  that  matter 
is,  so  that  by  a  fixed  law,  that  thought  should  be  where  that  matter  is,  and 
only  there,  being  always  bound  to  solid  extension,  mobility  and  gravity ;  I 
do  not  deny  it.  Bui  that  seems  to  me  quite  a  diflerent  thing  from  thf^  ques- 
tion, Whether  Matter  can  thmk ;  or.  Whether  God  can  make  Matter 
think;  and  is  not  worth  the  disputing.  For  if  Thought  be  in  the  same 
place  where  Matter  is,  yet,  if  there  be  no  manner  of  communication,  or  de- 
pendence, between  that  and  any  thing  that  is  material ;  that  is,  any  of  that 
collection  of  properties  that  we  call  Matter  ;  if  none  of  those  properties  of 
Solidity,  Extension,  etc.  wherein  Materiality  consists  ; — which  are  Matter, 
or  at  least  whereby  Matter  is  Matter ; — have  any  manner  of  influence  to- 
wards the  exerting  of  Thought;  and  if  that  Thought  be  no  way  depen- 
dent on  Solidity  or  Mobihty,  and  they  no  way  help  the  matter, but  Thought 
could  be  as  well  without  those  properties;  then  Thought  is  not  propei.y  in 
Matter,  though  it  be  in  the  same  place.  All  the  properties,  that  are  pro- 
perly said  to  be  in  Matter,  depend  on  the  other  properties  of  Matter,  so  that 
they  cannot  be  without  them.  Thus  Figure  is  in  Matter  :  it  depends  on 
Solidity  and  Extension  ;  and  so  doth  Motion  ;  so  doth  Gravity  ;  and  Exten- 
sion itself  depends  on  Solidity,  in  that  it  is  the  extension  of  rhe  SoHdity ; 
and  Solidity  on  Extension,  tor  nothing  can  be  soHd  except  it  be  extended. 
These  ideas  have  a  dependence  on  one  another;  but  there  is  no  manner 
of  connexion  between  the  ideas  of  Perception  and  Solidity,  or  Motion,  or 
Gravity.  They  are  simple  ideas,  of  which  we  can  liave  a  perfect  view  : 
and  we  know  there  is  no  dependence  Nor  can  there  be  any  dependence , 
for  the  ideas  in  their  own  nature  are  independent  and  alieneone  to  another. 
All  the  others  either  include  the  rest,  or  are  included  in  them:  and,  ex- 
cept the  property  of  Thought  be  included  in  the  properties  of  Mattt;r,  1 
think  it  carinot  properly  be  said,  that  Matter  has  Thought,  or.  ir  ii  can,  I 
see  not  a  possibility  of  Matter,  in  any  other  sense,  having  Thought. — If 
Thought's  being  so  fixed  to  Matter,  as  to  be  in  the  same  piace  where  Mat- 
ter is,''be  for  Thoup-ht  to  be  in  Matter;  Thought  not  only  can  be  in  Mat- 


678  APPENDIX. 

ter,  but  actually  is,  as  much  as  Thought  can  be,  in  place.  It  is  so  connec- 
ted with  the  Bodies  of  men,  or,  at  least,  with  some  parts  of  their  bodies,  and 
will  be  forever  after  the  Resurrection. 

[65.]  MOTION.  If  Motion  be  only  mental,  it  seems  to  follow  that 
there  is  no  dirierence  between  Real  and  Apparent  motion,  or  that  Motion 
is  nothing  elso  but  ihe  change  of  position  between  bodies;  and  then  of 
two  bodies  *hat  have  their  position  changed,  Motion  may  with  equal  rea- 
son be  ascribed  to  either  of  them,  and  the  Sun  may  as  properly  be  said  to 
move  as  the  Earth.  And  then  returns  this  dithculty.  If  it  be  so,  how 
comes  it  to  pass  that  the  Laws  oi' Centrifugal  Force  are  observed  to  take 
pFace,  with  respect  to  the  Earth,  considered  as  moving  round  the  Sun,  but 
not  with  respect  to  the  Sun,  considered  as  moving  round  the  Earth  ? — I 
answer.  It  would  be  impossible  it  should  be  so,  and  the  Laws  of  gravita- 
tion be  observed.  The  Earth  cannot  be  kept  at  a  distance  from  a  body,  so 
strongly  attracting  it  as  the  Sun,  any  other  way  than  by  such  a  motion  as 
is  supposed.  That  body  therefore  must  be  reputed  to  move,  that  can  be 
supposed  so  to  do,  according  to  the  Laws  of  Nature  universally  observed  in 
othcrr  things.     It  is  upon  them  that  God  impresses  that  Centrifugal  Force. 

N.  B.  This  answers  the  objection  that  might  be  raised  from  what  New- 
ton says  of  Absolute,  aud  Relative,  Motion,  and  that  distinguishing  pro- 
perty of  absolute  Circular  Motion,  that  there  was  a  Centrifugal  Force  in 
the  body  moved  ;  for  God  causes  a  Centrifugal  Force  in  that  body,  that  can 
be  supposed  to  move  circularly,  consistpntly  with  the  Laws  of  Motion,  in 
that  and  in  all  other  things,  on  which  it  has  a  near,  or  a  remote,  depen- 
dence, and  w^hich  must  be  supposed  to  move  in  order  to  the  observance  of 
those  Laws  in  the  Universe.  For  instance,  when  a  bushel,  with  water 
in  it,  is  violently  whirled  round,  before  the  water  takes  the  impression, 
there  is  a  continual  change  of  position  between  the  water  and  the  parts  of 
the  bushel ;  but  yet  that  must  not  be  supposed  to  move  as  fast  as  that  po- 
sition is  altered  ;  because  if  we  follow  it,  it  will  not  hold  out  consistent 
with  the  Laws  of  motion  in  the  Universe,  for  if  the  Water  moves,  then 
the  bushel  does  not  move ;  and  if  the  Bushel  does  not  move,  then  the 
Earth  moves  round  the  bushel,  every  time  that  seems  to  turn  round  ;  but 
there  can  be  no  such  alteration  in  the  motion  of  the  Earth  created  natural- 
ly, or  in  observance  of  the  Laws  of  Nature. 

[2.]  PLACE  OF  MINDS.  Our  common  way  of  conceiving  of  what 
is  Spiritual,  is  very  gross,  and  shadowy  and  corporeal,  with  dimensions  and 
figure,  etc.  thoughi  it  be  supposed  to  be  very  clear,  so  that  we  can  see 
through  it.  If  we  would  get  a  right  notion  of  what  is  Spiritual,  we  must 
think  of  Thought,  or  Inclination,  or  Delight.  How  large  is  that  thing  in 
the  Mind  which  they  call  Thought?  Is  Love  square,  or  round?  Is  the 
surface  of  Hatred  rough,  or  smooth  ?  Is  Joy  an  inch,  or  a  foot,  in  diame- 
ter? These  are  Spiritual  things:  and  why  should  we  then  form  such  a 
ridiculous  idea  of  Spirits,  as  to  think  them  so  long,  so  thick,  or  so  wide; 
or  to  think  there  is  a  necessity  of  their. being  square,  or  round,  or  some 
©ther  certain  figure  ? 

Therefore  Spirits  cannot  be  in  place,  in  such  a  sense,  that  all,  within  the 
jiven  limits,  shall  be  where  the  Spirit  is,  and  all  without  such  a  circum- 
j^cription,  where  he  is  not ;  but  in  this  sense  only,  that  all  created  Spirits 
have  clearer  and  more  strongly  impressed  ideas  of  things,  in  one  place 
than  in  another,  or  can  produce  effects  here,  and  not  there ;  and  as  this 
place  alters,  so  Spirits  move.  In  Spirits  united  to  bodies,  the  Spirit  more 
strongly  perceives  things  where  the  body  is,  and  can  there  immediately 
produce  effects;  and  in  this  sense  the  soul  can  be  sid  to  be  in  the  same 
place  where  the  bodv  is.     And  this  law  is,  that  we  call  the  Union  between 


THE   MIJ^D.  (a7t^ 

ioul  and  body.  So  the  soul  may  be  said  to  be  in  the  hrain ;  because  ideas, 
that  come  by  the  body,  immediately  ensue,  only  on  alterations  that  are  made 
there ;  and  the  soul  most  immediately  produces  eri'ects  no  where  else. 

No  doubt  that  all  Finite  Spirits,  united  to  bodies  or  not,  arc  thus  in 
place ;  that  is,  that  they  perceive,  or  passively  receive,  ideas,  only  of  cre- 
ated things,  that  are  in  some  particular  place  at  a  given  time.  At  least  a 
Finite  Spirit  cannot  thus  be  in  all  places  at  a  time,  equally.  And  doubt- 
less thechang-e  of  the  place,  where  they  perceive  most  strongly  and  pro- 
duce effects  immediately,  is  regular  and  successive ;  which  is  the  motion 
of  Spirits. 

[31.]  From  what  is  said  above,  we  learn, that  the  seat  of  the  Soul,  is  not 
inthe  Brain,  any  otherwise,  than  as  to  its  immediate  operations,  and  the  im- 
mediate operation  of  things  on  it.  The  Soul  may  also  be  said  to  be  in  the 
Heart,  or  the  Affections,  for  its  immediate  operations  are  there  also. 
Hence  we  learn  the  propriety  of  the  Scriptures  calling  the  soul,  the  Heart, 
when  considered  with  respect  to  the  Will  and  the  Atfections. 

We  seem  to  think  in  our  heads,  because  most  of  the  ideas,  of  which  our 
thoughts  are  constituted,  or  about  which  they  are  conversant,  come  by  the. 
sensories  that  are  in  the  head,  especially  the  sight  and  hearing,  or  ihose 
ideas  of  Reflexion,  that  arise  from  hence  ;  and  partly  because  we  feel  the 
effects  of  thought  and  study  in  our  head. 

[35.]  Seeing  the  Brain  exists  only  mentally,  I  therefore  acknowledge,that 
I  speak  improperly,  when  I  say,  the  Soul  is  in  the  Brain,  only  as  to  its  opera- 
tions.  For,  to  speak  yet  more  strictly  and  abstractly,  'tis  nothing  but  the 
connection  of  the  operations  of  the  Soul  with  these,  and  those  modes  of 
its  own  ideas,  or  those  mental  acts  of  the  Deity ;  seeing  the  Brain  exists 
only  in  idea.  But  we  have  got  so  far  beyond  those  things  for  which  lan- 
guage was  chiefly  contrived,  that,  unless  we  use  extreme  caution,  we  can- 
not speak,  except  we  speak  exceeding  unintelligibly,  without  literally  con- 
tradicting ourselves. — Coroll.  No  wonder,  therefore,  that  the  high  and 
abstract  mysteries  of  the  Deity,  the  prime  and  most  abstract  of  all  beings, 
imply  so  many  seeming  contradictions. 

[32.]  Seeing  Human  Souls  and  Finite  Spirits  are  said  to  be  in  this  place 
or  that,  only  because  they  are  so  as  to  mutual  communications;  it  follows 
that,  the  Scripture,  when  it  speaks  of  God  being  m  heaven,  of  his  dwelling 
in  Israel,  of  his  dwelling  in  the  hearts  of  his  people  ;  does  not  speak  so  im- 
properly aslias  been  thought. 

[4.]  UNION  of  mind  with  body.  The  Mind  is  so  united  with  the  Body, 
that  an  alteration  is  caused  in  the'  Body,  it  is  probable,  by  every  action  of 
the  Mind.  By  those  acts,  that  are  very  vigourous,  a  great  alteration  is  ve- 
ry sensible  ;  at  some  times,  when  the  vigour  of  the  body  is  impaired  by 
disease,  especially  in  the  head,  almost  every  action  causes  a  sensible  alter- 
ation of  the  Body. 

[3.]  PERCEPTION  of  separate  minds.  Our  perceptions,  or  ideas  that 
we  passively  receive  by  our  bodies,  are  communicated  to  us  immediately 
by  God,  while  our  minds  are  united  with  our  bodies  ;  but  only  we  in  some 
measure  know  the  rule.  We  know  that,  upon  such  alterations  in  our  minds, 
there  follow  such  ideas  in  the  mind.  It  need,  therefore,  be  no  difliculty 
with  us,  how  we  shall  perceive  things  w^hen  we  are  Separate.  They  will 
be  communicated  then,  also,  and  according  to  some  rule,no  doubt,  only  we 
know  not  what. 


680  APPENDIX. 

[68.]  REASON.  A  person  may  have  a  strong  Reason,  and  yet  nol 
a  good  Reason.  He  may  have  a  strength  of  mind  to  drive  an  argument, 
and  yet  not  have  even  balances.  It  is  not  so  much  from  a  defect  of  the 
reasoning  powers,  as  from  a  fault  of  the  disposition.  When  men  of  strong 
Reason  do  not  form  an  even  and  just  judgmest,  'tis  for  one  of  these  two 
reasons  .'  either  a  liabieness  to  Prejudice,  through  natural  temper,  or  edu- 
cation, or  circumstances  ;  or,  for  want  of  a  great  love  to  Truth,  and  of  tear 
of  Error,  that  shall  cause  a  watchful  circumspection,  that  nothing,  relative 
to  the  case  in  question  of  any  weight,  shall  escape  the  observation  and  just 
estimation,  to  distniguish  with  great  exactness  betw^een  what  is  real  and 
solid,  and  what  is  only  colour,  and  shadow  and  words. 

Persons  of  mean  capacities  may  see  the  Reason  of  that,  which  requires 
a  nice  and  exaci  attention,  and  a  long  discourse,  to  explain — as  the  rea- 
son why  Thunder  shouW  be  so  much  feared ;  and  many  other  things  that 
might  be  mentioned. 

[16.]  CONSCIOUSNESS  is  the  mind's  perceiving  what  is  in  itself,— 
ideas,  actions,  passions,  and  every  thmg  that  is  there  perceptible.  It  is  a 
sort  of  feeling  within  itself.  The  mmd  feels  when  it  thinks ;  so  it  feels 
when  it  discerns,  feels  when  it  loves,  and  feels  when  it  hates. 

[69.]  MEMORY  is  the  identity,  in  some  degree,  of  Ideas  that  we  for- 
merly had  in  our  minds,  with  a  consciousness  that  we  formerly  had  them, 
and  a  supposition  that  their  former  being  in  the  mind  is  the  cause  of  their 
bemg  in  us  at  present.  There  is  not  only  the  presence  of  the  same  ideas, 
that  were  in  our  minds  formerly,  but  also,  an  act  ot  the  judgment,  that  they 
were  there  formerly,  and  that  judgment,  not  properly  from  proof,  but 
from  natural  necessity,  arising  from  a  Law  of  nature  which  God  hath 
fixed. 

In  Memory,  in  mental  principles,  habits  and  inclinations,  there  is  some- 
thing really  abiding  in  the  mind,  when  there  are  no  acts  or  exercises  of 
them ;  much  in  the  same  manner,  as  there  is  a  chair  in  this  room,  when  no 
mortal  perceives  it.  For  when  we  say.  There  are  chairs  in  this  room,  when 
none  perceives  it,  we  mean,  that  minds  would  perceive  chairs  here,  accord- 
ing to  the  Law  of  Nature  in  such  circumstances.  So  when  we  say,  A 
person  has  these  and  those  things,  laid  up  in  his  memory,  we  mean,  they 
would  actually  be  repeated  in  his  mind,  upon  some  certain  occasions,  ac- 
cording to  the  Law  of  Nature ;  though  we  cannot  describe,  particularly, 
the  Law  of  Nature,  about  these  mental  acts,  so  well  as  we  can  about  other 
things. 

[11.]  PERSONAL  IDENTITY.  Well  might  Mr.  Locke  say,  that. 
Identity  of  perMn  consisted  in  identity  of  consciousness;  for  he  might 
have  said  that  identity  of  spirit,  too,  consisted  in  the  same  consciousness ; 
for  a  mind  or  spirit  is  nothing  else  but  consciousness,  and  what  is  included 
in  it.  The  same  consciousness  is,  to  all  intents  and  purposes,  individually, 
the  very  same  spirit,  or  substance ;  as  much  as  the  same  particle  of  matter 
can  be  the  same  with  itself,  at  different  times. 

[72.]  Identity  of  person  is  what  seems  never  yetto  have  been  explained. 
It  is  a  mistake,  that  it  consists  in  sameness,  or  identity,  of  consciousness — if, 
by  sameness  of  consciousness,  be  meant,  having  the  same  ideas  hereafter. 
that  I  have  now%  with  a  notion  or  apprehension  that  I  had  had  them  before ; 
just  in  the  same  manner  as  I  now  have  the  same  ideas,  that  I  had  in  time 
past,  by  memory.  It  is  possible  without  doubt,  in  the  nature  of  things, 
for  God  to  annihilate  me,  and  after  my  annihilation  to  create  another  being" 


THE    MIND.  {ySi 

that  shall  have  the  same  ideas  in  his  mind  that  I  have,  and  with  the  like 
apprehension  that  he  had  had  them  before,  in  like  manner  as  a  person  lias 
by  memory ;  and  yet  I  be  in  no  way  concerned  in  it,  having  no  reason  to 
fear  what  that  being  shall  suffer,  or  to  hope  for  what  he  shall  enjoy.— Can 
any  one  deny,  that  it  is  possible,  after  my  annihilation,  to  create  two  be- 
ings in  the  Universe,  both  of  them  having  my  ideas  communicated  to 
them,  with  such  a  notion  of  their  having  had  them  before,  after  the  man- 
ner of  memory,  and  yet  be  ignorant  one  of  another;  and,  in  such  case, 
will  any  one  say,  that  both  these  are  one  and  the  same  person,  as  they 
must  be,  if  they  are  both  the  same  person  with  me.  It  is  possible  there 
may  be  two  such  beings,  each  having  all  the  ideas  that  are  now  in  my 
mind,  in  the  same  manner  that  I  should  have  by  memory,  if  my  own  being 
were  continued  ;  and  yet  these  two  beings  not  only  be  ignorant  one  of  an- 
other, but  also  be  in  a  very  different  state,  one  in  a  state  of  enjoyment  and 
pleasure,  and  the  other  in  a  state  of  great  suffering  and  torment.  Yea, 
there  seems  to  be  nothing  of  impossibility  in  the  Nature  of  things,  but 
that  the  Most  High  could,  if  he  saw  fit,  cause  there  to  be  another 
being,  who  should  begin  to  exist  in  some  distant  part  of  the  Universe, 
with  the  same  ideas  I  now  have,  after  the  manner  of  memory  ;  and  should 
henceforward  co-exist  with  me;  we  both  retaining  a  consciousness  of 
what  was  before  the  moment  of  his  first  existence,  in  like  manner ;  but 
thenceforward  should  have  a  different  train  of  ideas.  Will  any  one  say, 
that  he,  in  such  a  case,  is  the  same  person  with  me,  when  I  know  nothing 
of  his  sufferings,  and  am  never  the  better  for  his  joys. 

[29.]  POWER.  We  have  explained  a  Cause  to  be  that,  after,  or 
upon,  the  Existence  of  which,  or  its  Existence  in  such  a  manner,  the  exis- 
tence of  another  thing  follows.  The  Connection  between  these  two  exis- 
tences, or  between  the  Cause  and  Effect,  is  w  hat  we  call  Power.  Thus  tho 
Sun,  above  the  Horizon,  enlightens  the  Atmosphere.  So  we  say  the  Sun 
has  power  to  enlighten  the  Atmosphere.  That  is,  there  is  such  a 
connection  between  the  Sun,  being  above  the  Horizon,  after  such 
a  manner,  and  the  Atmosphere  being  enlightened,  that  one  always 
follows  the  other.  So  the  Sun  has  power  to  melt  wax  :  That  is,  the  Sun 
and  w^ax  so  existing,  the  melting  of  the  wax  follows.  There  is  a  comiec- 
tion  betv/een  one  and  the  other.  So  Man  has  power  to  do  this  or  that  ; 
That  is,  if  he  exists  after  such  a  manner,  there  follows  the  existence  of 
another  thing:  if  he  wills  this  or  that,  it  will  be  so.  God  has  power  to  do 
all  things,  because  there  is  nothing  but  what  follows  upon  his  willing  of 
it.  When  Intelligent  beings  are  said  to  have  power  to  do  this  or  that ;  by 
it  is  meant,  the  Connection  between  this  or  that,  upon  this  manner  of 
their  existing,  their  willing :  in  which  sense  they  have  power  to  do  many 
things  that  .they  never  shall  will. 

Coroll.  Hence  it  follows,  that  men,  in  a  very  proper  sense,  may  be  said 
to  have  power  to  abstain  from  sin,  and  to  repent,  to  do  good  works  and  to 
hve  holily  ;  because  it  depends  on  their  Will. 

[59.]  JUDGMENT.  The  mind  passes  a  judgment,  in  multitudes  of 
cases,  where  it  has  learned  to  judge  by  perpetual  expcripnce,  not  only  ex- 
ceecftngly  quick,  as  soon  as  one  thought  can  follow  another,  but  absolute- 
ly without  any  reflexion  at  all,  and  at  the  same  moment,  witlout  any  time 
intervening.  Though  the  thing  is  not  properly  self  evident,  yet  it  judges 
A^'ithout  any  ratiocination,  merely  by  force  of  habit.  Thus,  when  1  hear 
such  and  such  sounds,  or  see  such  letters,  I  judge  that  such  things  are  sig- 
nified without  reasoning.  When  I  have  such  ideas  coming  in  by  my  sense 
of  seeing,  appearing  after  such  a  manner,  I  judge  without  any  reasoning./ 

Vol.  I  S6 


682  APPFiVBlX. 

that  the  tilings  are  further  oft',  than  others  that  appear  after  such  a  manner- 
When  I  see  a  globe,  I  judge  it  to  be  a  globe,  though  the  image  impressed 
on  my  sensory  is  only  that  of  a  flat  circle,  appearing  variously  in  various 
parts.  And  in  ten  thousand  other  cases,  the  ideas  are  habitually  associa- 
ted together,  and  they  come  into  the  mind  together. — So  likewise,  in  in- 
numerable cases,  men  act  without  any  proper  act  of  the  Will  at  that  time 
commanding,  through  habit.  As  when  a  man  is  walking,  there  is  not  a- 
new  act  of  the  Will  every  time  a  man  takes  up  his  foot  and  sets  it  down. 

Coroll.  Hence  there  is  no  necessity  of  allowing  reason  to  Beasts,  in 
inany  of  those  actions,  that  many  are  ready  to  argue  are  rational  actions. 
As  cattle  in  a  team  are  wont  to  act  as  the  driver  would  have  them,  upon 
his  making  such  and  such  sounds,  either  to  stop,  or  go  along,  or  turn  hither 
or  thither,  because  they  have  been  forced  to  do  it,  by  the  whip,  upon  the 
using  of  such  words.  It  is  become  habitual,  so  that  they  never  do  it  ra- 
tionally, but  either  from  force  or  from  habit.  So  of  all  the  actions  that 
beasts  are  taught  to  perform,  dogs,  and  horses,  and  parrots,  etc.  And 
those,  that  they  learn  of  themselves  to  do,  are  merely  by  virtue  of  appetite 
and  habitual  association  of  ideas.  Thus  a  horse  learns  to  perform  such 
actions  for  his  food,  because  he  has  accidentally  had  the  perceptions  of 
such  actions,  associated  with  the  pleasant  perceptions  of  taste:  and  so  his 
appetite  makes  him  perform  the  action,  without  any  reason  or  judgment. 

The  main  difference  between  Men  and  Beasts  is,  that  Men  are  capable 
6f  reflecting  upon  what  passes  in  their  own  minds.  Beasts  have  nothing 
but  direct  consciousness.  Men  are  capable  of  viewing  what  is  in  them- 
selves, contemplatively.  Man  was  made  for  spiritual  exercises  and  enjoy- 
ments, and  therefore  is  made  capable,  by  reflexion,  to  behold  and  contem^- 
plate  spiritual  things.     Hence  it  arises  that  Man  is  capable  of  Religion. 

A  very  great  difference  between  Men  and  Beasts  is,  that  Beasts  have 
no  voluntary  actions  about  their  own  thoughts;  for  it  is  in  this  only,  that 
reasoning  differs  from  mere  perception  and  memory.  It  is  the  act  of  the 
Will,  in  bringing  its  ideas  into  Contemplation,  and  ranging  and  comparing 
of  them  in  Reflexion  and  Abstraction.  The  minds  of  Beasts,  if  I  may  call 
them  minds,  are  purely  passive  with  respect  to  all  their  ideas.  The  mindg 
of  Men  are  not  only  passive,  but  abundantly  active.  Herein  probably  is 
the  most  distinguishing  diflerence  between  Men  and  Beasts.  Herein  is 
the  difference  between  Intellectual,  or  Rational,  Will,  and  mere  Animal 
Appetite,  that  the  latter  is  a  simple  Inclination  to,  or  Aversion  from,  such 
and  such  Sensations,  which  are  the  only  ideas  that  they  are  capable  of, 
that  are  not  active  about  their  ideas:  the  former  is  a  Will  that  is  active 
about  its  own  ideas,  in  disposing  of  them  among  themselves,  or  Appetite 
towards  those  idfas  that  are  acquired  by  such  action. 

The  Association  of  ideas  in  Beasts,  seems  to  be  much  quicker  and  stron- 
ger than  in  Men  :  at  least  in  many  of  them. 

It  would  not  suppose  any  exalted  faculty  in  Beasts,  to  suppose  that  like 
ideas  in  them,  if  they  have  any,  excite  one  another.  Nor  can  I  think  why 
it  should  be  so  any  the  less  for  the  weakness  and  narrowness  of  their  fac- 
ulties ;  in  such  things,  whereto  perceive  the  argumunt  of  ideas,  require? 
neither  attention  nor  comprehension.  And  experience  teaches  us,  that 
what  wc  call  thought  in  them,  is  thus  led  from  one  thing  to  another. 

[17.]  LOGICK.  One  reason  why,  at  first,  before  I  knew  other  Logick,  I 
used  to  be  mightily  pleased  with  the  study  of  the  Old  Logick,  was,  because 
it  was  very  pleasant  to  see  my  thoughts,  that  before  lay  in  my  mind  junib- 
led  without  any  distinction,  ranged  into  order  and  distributed  into  classes 
and  subflivisions,  so  that!  could  tell  whpre  thev  all  belonged,  and  ruiitheH} 


THE   Mllfb.  685 

a^  to  their  general  heads.  For  this  Logick  consisted  much  in  Distribu- 
tions and  Definitions;  and  their  maxims  gave  occasion  to  observe  new  and 
^tran.^e  dependencies  of  ideas,  and  a  seeming  agreement  of  multitudes  of 
them  in  the  same  thing,  that  I  never  observed  before. 

16Q.]  IDEAS.  All  sorts  of  ideas  of  things  are  but  the  repititions  of* 
those  very  things  over  again— as  well  the  ideas  of  colours,  figures,  soli- 
dity, tastes,  and  smells,  as  the  ideas  of  thought  and  mental  acts* 

[67.]  LOVE  is  not  properly  said  to  be  an  idea,  any  more  than  Under- 
standing is  said  to  be  an  idea.  Understanding  and  Lo\  ing  are  different 
acts  of  the  mind  entirely  ;  and  s  >  Pleasure  and  Pain  are  not  properly  ideas. 

Though  Pleasure  and  Pain  may  imply  perception  in  their  nature,  yet  it 
does  not  follow,  that  they  are  properly  ideas.  There  is  an  Act  of  the  mind 
in  it.  An  idea  is  only  a  perception,  wherein  the  mind  is  passive  or  rather 
subjective.  The  Acts  of  the  mind  are  not  merely  ideas.  All  Acts  of  the 
mind,  about  its  ideas,  are  not  themselves  mere  ideas. 

Pleasure  and  Pain  have  their  seat  in  the  Will,  and  not  in  the  Under- 
standing. The  Will,  Choice,  etc.  is  nothing  else,  but  the  mind's  being 
pleased  with  an  idea,  or  having  a  superior  pleasedness  in  something  thought 
of,  or  a  desire  of  a  future  thing,  or  a  pleasedness  in  the  thought  of  our 
union  with  the  thing,  or  a  pleasedness  in  such  a  state  of  ourselves,  and  a 
degree  of  pain  while  we  are  not  in  that  state,  or  a  disagreeable  conceptiorl 
of  the  contrary  state  at  that  time  when  we  desire  it. 

[7.]  GENUS.  The  various  distributing  and  ranking  of  things,  and 
tying  of  them  together,  under  one  common  abstract  idea,  is,  although  arbi- 
trary, yet  exceedingly  useful,  and  indeed  absolutely  necessary  :  tor  how 
miserable  should  we  be,  if  we  could  think  of  things  only  individually,  as  the 
beasts  do ;  how  slow,  narrow,  painful  and  endless,  would  be  the  exercise  of 
thought. 

What  is  this  putting  and  tying  things  together,  which  is  done  in  ab- 
straction ?  It  is  not  merely  a  tying  of  them  under  the  same  name ;  for  I 
do  believe,  that  deaf  and  dumb  persons  abstract  and  distribute  things  into 
kinds.  But  it  is  so  putting  of  them  together,  that  the  mind  resolves  here- 
after to  think  of  them  together,  under  a  common  notion,  as  if  they  were  a 
collective  substance  ;  the  mind  being  as  sure,  in  this  proceeding,  of  reason- 
ing well,  as  if  it  were  of  a  particular  substance ;  for  it  has  abstracted  that 
which  belongs  alike  to  all,  and  has  a  perfect  idea,  whose  relations  and  pro- 
perties it  can  behold,  as  well  as  those  of  the  idea  of  one  individual.  Al- 
though this  ranking  of  things  be  arbitrary,  yet  there  is  much  more  foun, 
Nation  for  some  distributions  than  others.  Some  are  much  more  useful, 
and  much  better  serve  the  purposes  of  abstraction. 

[24.]  There  is  really  a  difference  that  the  mind  makes,  in  the  conside- 
ration of  an  Universal,  absolutely  considered,  and  a  Species.  There  is  a 
difference  in  the  two  ideas,  when  we  say  Man,  including  simply  the  ab- 
stract idea ;  and  when  we  say,  the  Human  Sort  of  Living  Creature. 
There  is  reference  had  to  an  idea  more  abstract.  And  there  is  this  act  of 
the  mind  in  distributing  an  Universal  into  Species.  It  ties  this  abstract 
idea  to  two  or  more  less  abstract  ideas,  and  supposes  it  limited  by  them. 

It  is  not  every  property,  that  belongs  to  all  the  particulars  included  in, 
und  proper  to,  a  Genus,  and  that  men  generally  see  to  be  so,  that  is  a  part 
of  that  complex  abstract  idea,  that  represents  all  the  particulars,  or  that  is 
a  part  of  that  nominal  essence.  But  so  much  is  essential,  which,  if  men 
should  s«e  any  thing  less,  they  would  not  call  it  by  the  name,  by  whirib 


t>84  APPENDIX. 

they  call  the  Genus.     This  indeed,  is  uncertain,  because  men  never  agreed 
upon  fixing  exact  bounds. 

[25.]  A  PART,  is  one  of  those  many  ideas,  which  we  are  wont  to  think 
of  together.     A  whole,  is  an  idea  containing  many  of  these. 

[47.]  The  foundatiox  of  the  most  considerable  Species  or  Sorts,  is 
which  things  are  ranked,  is  the  order  of  the  world — the  designed  distribu- 
tion of  God  and  nature.  When  we,  in  distributing  things,  ditfef  from  that 
design,  we  don't  know  the  true  essences  of  things.  If  the  world  had  beeB 
created  without  any  order,  or  design,  or  beauty,  indeed,  all  species  would 
be  merely  arbitrary.  There  are  certain  miiltitudes  of  things,  that  God  ' 
has  made  to  agree,  very  remarkably  in  something,  either  as  to  their  out- 
ward appearance,  manner  of  acting,  the  effects  they  produce,  or  that  other 
things  produce  on  them,  the  manner  of  their  production,  or  Gods  diposat 
concerning  them,  or  some  peculiar  perpetual  circumstances  that  they  are 
in.  Thus*  diamonds  agree  in  shape  ;  pieces  of  gold,  in  that  they  will  be 
divided  in  aqua  regia;  loadstones,  in  innumerable  strange  effects  that  they 
produce  ;  many  plants,  in  the  peculiar  effects  they  produce  on  animal  bo- 
dies ;  men,  inthat  they  are  to  remain  after  this  lite.  That  inward  con- 
formation, that  is  the  found  ition  of  an  agreement  in  these  things,  is  the 
real  essence  of  the  thing.  For  instance,  that  disposition  of  parts,  or  what- 
ever it  be,  in  the  matter  of  the  loadstoi>e,  from  whence  arises  the  verlici- 
ty  to  the  poles,  and  its  influence  on  other  loadstones  and  iron,  is  the  real 
essence  of  the  loadstone  that  is  unknown  to  us. 

[41.]  As  there  is  great  foundation  in  Nature  for  those  abstract  ideas^ 
which  we  call  Univereals ;  so  there  is  great  foundation  in  the  common 
circumstances  and  necessities  of  mankind,  and  the  constant  method  of 
things  proceeding,  for  such  a  tying  of  simple  modes  together  to  the  con- 
stituting such  mixed  modes.  This  appears  from  the  agreement  of  langua- 
ges ;  for  language  is  very  much  made  up  of  the  names  of  Mixed  Modes  ; 
and  we  find  that  almost  all  those  names,  in  one  language,  have  names  that 
answer  to  them  in  other  languages.  The  same  Mixed  Mode  has  a  name 
given  to  it  by  most  nations.  Whence  it  appears  that  most  of  the  inhabit- 
ants of  the  Earth,  have  agreed  upon  putting  together  the  same  Simple 
Modes  into  Mixed  ones,  and  in  the  same  manner.  The  learned  and  polish- 
ed have  indeed  many  more  than  others :  and  herein  chiefly  it  is,  that  lan- 
guages do  not  answer  one  to  another. 

[42.]  TtiE  agreement  or  similitude  of  Complex  ideas,  mostly  consists 
in  their  precise  identity,  with  respect  to  some  third  idea  of  some  of  the 
simples,  they  are  compounded  of.  But  if  there  be  any  similitude  or  agree- 
ment between  simple  ideas  themselves,  it  cannot  consist  in  the  identity 
of  a  I  bird  idea  that  belongs  to  both ;  because  the  ideas  are  simple  ;  and  if 
you  take  any  thing  that  belongs  to  them,  you  take  all.  Theretbre  no 
agreement  between  simple  ideas  can  be  resolved  into  Identity,  unless  it  be 
the  identity  of  Relations.  But  there  seems  to  be  another  mfalhble  agree- 
ment between  simple  ideas.  Thus  some  Colours  are  more  like  one  to  ano- 
ther than  others,  between  which  there  is  yet  a  very  manifest  difference. 
S;3  between  Sounds,  Smells,  Tastes,  and  other  Sensations.  And  what  is 
that,  common  agreement  of  all  these  ideas  we  call  colours,  whereby  we 
know  immediately  that  that  name  belongs  to  them.  Certainly  all  colours 
have  an  agreement  one  to  another^  that  is  quite  different  from  any  agree- 
ment that  Sounds  can  have  to  them.  So  is  there  some  common  agreement 
to  5tll  Sounds.,  that  Tastes  cannot  have  to  any  Sound.     It  cannat  be  said 


fHE    JIINJO.  685 

that  the  agreement  lies  only  in  this,  that  these  simple  ideas  6ome  all  by 
the  ear;  so  that  their  agreement  consists  only  in  the  relation  they  liave  to 
that  organ.  For  if  it  should  have  been  so  that  we  had  lived  in  the  world, 
and  had  never  found  out  the  way,  we  got  these  ideas  we  call  vSounds,  and 
never  once  thought  or  considered  any  thing  about  it,  and  should  hear 
some  new  simple  sound,  I  believe  nobody  would  question,  hut  that  we 
should  immediately  perceive  an  agreement  with  other  ideas,  that  used  to 
come  by  that  sense,  though  we  knew  not  which  way  one  of  them  came,  and 
should  immediately  call  it  a  Sound,  arid  say  we  had  heard  a  strange  J\oise. 
And  if  we  had  never  had  any  such  sensation  as  the  Head-ach,  and  should 
have  It,  I  do  not  think  we  siiould  call  that  a  new  Sound ;  for  there  would 
be  so- manifest  a  disagreement  between  those  simple  ideas,  of  another  kind 
from  what  simple  ideas  have  one  with  another. 

I  have  thought,  whether  or  no  the  agreement  of  Colours  did  not  con- 
sist, in  a  Relation  they  had  to  the  idea  of  Space ;  and  whether  Colour 
in  general  might  not  be  defined,  that  idea  that  filled  Space.  But  I  am  con- 
vinced, that  there  is  another  sort  of  agreement  beside  that;  and  the  more, 
because  there  can  no  such  common  relation  be  thought  of,  with  respect 
to  different  Sounds.  It  is  probable  that  this  agreement  may  be  resolved 
into  Identity.  If  we  follow  these  ideas  to  their  original  in  their  Organs, 
like  sensations  may  be  caused  from  like  motions  in  the  Animal  Spirits. 
Herein  the  likeness  is  perceived,  after  the  same  manner  as  the  harmony  in 
a  simple  colour ;  but  if  we  consider  the  ideas  absolutely,  it  cannot  be. 

Coroll.  All  Universals,  therefore,  cannot  be  made  up  of  ideas,  abstracted 
from  Particulars ;  for  Colour  and  Sound  are  Universals,  as  much  as  Man 
or  Horse.  But  the  idea  of  Colour,  or  Sound,  in  general,  cannot  be  made 
tip  of  ideas,  abstracted  from  particular  Colours,  or  Sounds;  for  from  simple 
ideas  nothing  can  be  abstracted.  But  these  Universals  are  thus  formed. 
The  mind  perceives  that  some  of  its  ideas  agree,  in  a  manner  very  different 
from  all  its  other  ideas.  The  mind  therefore  is  determined  to  rank  those 
ideas  together  in  its  thoughts ;  and  all  new  ideas,  it  receives  with  the  like 
agreement,  it  naturally,  and  habitually,  and  at  once,  places  to  the  same 
rank  and  order,  and  calls  them  by  the  same  name ;  and  by  the  nature,  de- 
termination and  habit,  of  the  mind,  the  idea  of  one  excites  the  idea  of  others^ 

[43.]  Many  of  our  Universal  ideas  are  not  Arbitrary.  The  tying  of 
ideas  together,  in  Genera  and  Species,  is  not  merely  the  calling  of  them 
by  the  same  name,  but  such  an  union  of  them,  that  the  consideration  of 
one  shall  naturally  excite  the  idea  of  others.  But  the  union  of  ideas  is 
not  always  arbitrary,  but  unavoidably  arising  from  the  nature  of  the  Soul; 
v/hich  is  such,  that  the  thinking  of  one  thing,  of  itself,  yea,  against  our 
wills,  excites  the  thought  of  other  things  that  are  like  it.  Thus,  if  a  per- 
son, a  stranger  to  the  Earth,  should  see  and  converse  with  a  man,  and  a 
longtime  after  should  meet  with  another  man,  and  converse  with  him  ;  the 
agreement  would  immediately  excite  the  idea  of  that  other  man,  and  those 
two  ideas  would  be  together  in  his  mind,  for  the  time  to  come,  yea.  in  spite 
of  him.  So  if  he  should  see  a  third,  and  afterwards  should  find  multitudes, 
there  would  be  a  Genus,  or  Universal  Idea,  formed  in  his  mind,  naturally^ 
without  his  counsel  or  design.  So  I  cannot  doubt  but,  if  a  person  had  beeo 
born  blind,  and  should  have  his  eyes  opened,  and  should  immediately  have 
hlue  placed  before  his  eyes,  and  then  red,  then  green,  then  yellow ;  1  doubt 
not,  they  would  immediately  get  into  one  General  Idea — they  would  be 
united  in  his  mind  without  his  deliberation. 

Coroll.  So  that  God  has  not  only  distributed  things  into  species,  by 
evidently  manifesting,  by  his  making^ such  an  agreement  in  things,  that  he 
designed  such  and  such  particulars  to  bo  togethfT  in  the  mind:  but  by 


$86  APPENDIX, 

making  the  Soul  of  such  a  nature,  that  thos6  particulars,  which  he  thu* 
made  to  agree,  are  unavoidably  together  in  the  mind,  one  naturally  excit- 
ing and  including  the  others. 

[37.]  Genus  and  Species,  indeed,  is  a  mental  thing  ;  yet,  in  a  sense, 
Nature  has  distributed  many  things  into  Species  without  our  minds.  That 
is,  God  evidently  designed  such  Particulars  to  be  together  in  the  mind, 
and  in  other  things.  But  'tis  not  so  indeed,  with  respect  to  all  genera. 
Some  therefore  may  be  called  Arbitrary  Genera,  others  JVakiral,  Nature 
has  designedly  made  a  distribution  of  some  things :  other  distributions  are 
of  a  mental  original. 

[56.]  NUMBER  is  a  train  of  differences  of  ideas,  put  together  in  the 
mind's  consideration  in  orderly  succession,  and  considered  with  respect  to 
their  relations  one  to  another,  as  in  that  orderly  mental  succession.  This 
mental  succession  is  the  succession  of  Time.  One  may  make  which  they 
will  the  first,  if  it  be  but  the  first  in  consideration.  The  mind  begins  where 
it  will,  and  runs  through  them  successively  one  after  another.  It  is  a  col- 
lection of  differences  ;  for  it  is  its  being  another,  in  some  respect,  that  is 
the  very  thing  that  makes  it  capable  of  pertaining  to  multiplicity.  They 
must  not  merely  be  put  together,  in  orderly  succession ;  but  its  only  their 
being  considered  with  reference  to  that  relation,  they  have  one  to  another 
as  differences,  and  in  orderly  mental  succession,  that  denominates  it  JSTum- 
her. — To  be  of  such  a  particular  number,  is  fur  an  idea  to  have  such  a  par- 
ticular relation,  and  so  considered  by  the  mind,  to  other  differences  put  to- 
gether with  it,  in  orderly  succession. — So  that  there  is  nothing  inexplica- 
ble in  the  nature  of  Number,  but  what  Identity  and  Diversity  is,  and  what 
Succession,  or  Duration,  or  Priority  and  Posteriority,  is. 

[57.]  DURATION.  Fastness,  if  I  may  make  such  a  word,  is  nothing 
but  a  Mode  of  ideas.  This  Mode  perhaps,  is  nothing  else  but  a  certain 
Veterascence,  attending  our  ideas.  When  it  is,  as  we  say.  Past,  the  idea,, 
after  a  particular  manner,  fades  and  grows  old.  When  an  idea  appears 
with  this  mode,  we  say  it  is  Past,  and  according  to  the  degree  of  this  par- 
ticular inexpressible  mode,  so  we  say  the  thing  is  longer  or  more  lately 
past.  As  in  distance,  it  is  not  only  by  a  natural  trigonometry  of  the  eyes, 
or  a  sort  of  parallax,  that  we  determine  it ;  because  we  can  judge  of  dis- 
tances, as  well  with  one  eye,  as  with  two.  Nor  is  it  by  observing  the  pa- 
rallelism or  aperture  of  the  rays,  for  the  mind  judges  by  nothing,  but  the 
difference  it  observes  in  the  idea  itself,  which  alone  the  mipd  has  any  no- 
tice of.  But  it  judges  of  distance,  by  a  particular  mode  of  indistinctness, 
as  has  been  said  before.  So  it  is  with  respect  to  distance  of  time,  by  a 
certain  peculiar  inexpressible  mode  of  fading  and  indistinctness,  which  I 
call  Veterasceence. 

'  [65.]  I  THINK  we  find  by  experience,  that,  when  we  have  been  in  a  sound 
sleep,  for  many  hours  together,  if  we  look  back  to  the  time  when  we  were 
last  awake,  the  ideas  seemfariher  off  to  us,  than  when  we  have  only  ceased 
thinking  a  few  minutes :  which  cannot  be,  because  we  see  a  longer  train  of 
intermediate  ideas  in  one  case,  than  in  the  other ;  for  I  slippose  we  see 
none  in  neither.  But  there  is  a  sort  of  Veterascence  of  ideas,  that  have 
been  a  longer  time  in  the  mind.  When  we  look  upon  them,  they  do  not 
lookjiist  as  those,  that  are  much  nearer.  This  Veterascence  consists,  I 
think,  in  blotting  out  the  little  distinctions,  the  minute  parts,  and  fine  strokes 
of  it.  This  is  one  way  of  judging  of  the  distance  of  Visible  objects.  In 
this  respect,  a  house,  a  tree,  do  not  look  at  a  little  distance,  as  they  do  very 
near.  They  not  only  do  not  appear  so  big  ;  but  a  multitude,  of  the  littl^^' 
distinctions  vanish,  that  are  plain  when  we  are  near. 


THE  mudi.  687 

[o^-J  SENSATION,  Our  Senses,  whensound,  and  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances, are  not  pioperly  fallible  in  any  thing :  that  is,  we  mean  our  Expe- 
rience by  our  Senses.  If  we  mean  any  thing  else,  neither  fallibility  nor 
certainty  in  any  way  belongs  to  the  Senses.  Nor  are  our  Senses  certain  in 
any  thing  at  all,  any  other  way,  than  by  constant  experience  by  our  Senses: 
That  is,  when  our  Senses  make  such  or  such  representations,  we  constantly 
experience,  that  things  are  in  themselves  thus  or  thus.  So,  when  a  thing 
appears  after  such  a  manner,  I  judge  it  to  be  at  least  two  rods  off,  at  least 
two  feet  broad  ;  but  I  only  know,  by  constant.experience,that  a  thing,  that 
makes  such  a  representation,  is  so  far  oft*,  and  so  big.  And  so  my  senses 
are  as  certain  in  every  thing,  when  I  have  equal  opportunity  and  occasion 
to  experience.  And  our  senses  are  said  to  deceive  us  in  some  things,  be- 
cause our  situation  does  not  allow  us  to  make  trial,  or  our  circumstances 
do  not  lead  us  to  it,  and  so  we  are  apt  to  judge  by  our  experience,  in  other 
and  different  cases.  Thus,  our  Senses  make  us  think,  that  the  Moon  is 
among  the  clouds,  because  we  cannot  try  it  so  quick,  easily,  and  frequent- 
ly, as  we  do  the  distance  of  things,  that  are  nearer.  But  the  Senses  of  an 
Astronomer,  who  observes  the  Parallax  of  the  Moon,  do  not  deceive  him, 
but  lead  him  to  the  truth.  Though  the  idea  of  the  Moon's  distance  will 
never  be  exercised,  so  quick  and  naturally,  upon  every  occasion,  because  of 
the  tediousness  and  infrequency  of  the  trial ;  and  there  are  not  so  many 
ways  of  trial,  so  many  differences  in  the  Moon's  appearance,  from  what  a 
lesser  thing  amongst  the  clouds  would  have,  as  there  are  in  things  nearer. 
I  can  remember  when  I  was  so  young,  that  seeing  two  things  in  the  same 
building,  one  of  which  was  twice  so  far  oft'  as  the  other,  yet,  seeing  one 
over  the  other,  I  thought  they  had  been  of  the  same  distance,  one  right 
ever  the  other.  My  senses  then  were  deceitful  in  that  thing,  though  they 
made  the  same  representations  as  now,  and  yet  now  they  are  not  de- 
ceitful. The  only  difference  is  in  expenence.  Indeed,  in  some  tilings,  our 
senses  make  no  difference  m  the  representation,  where  there  is  a  difference 
in  the  things.  But  in  those  things,  our  experience  by  our  Senses  w-iU  lead 
us  not  to  judge  at  all,  and  so  they  will  deceive.  We  are  in  danger  of  be- 
ing deceived  by  our  Senses,  in  judging  of  appearances,  by  our  experience 
in  different  thingp,  or  by  judging  where  we  have  had  no  experience,  or  the 
like. 

[19.]  Things,  that  we  know  by  immediate  Sensation,  we  know  intui- 
tively; and  they  are  properly  self-evident  truths:  As,  Grass  is  green; 
The  Sun  shines;  Honey  is  sweet,-  When  we  say  that  Grass  is  green,  all 
that  we  can  be  supposed  to  mean  by  it,  is — that,  in  a  constant  course,  when 
we  see  Grass,  the  idea  of  green  is  excited  by  it ;  and  this  we  know  self- 
evident  ly. 

[55.]  APPETITE  of  the  Mind.  As  all  ideas  are  wholly  in  the  mind, 
so  is  all  Appetite.  To  have  Appetite  towards  a  thing  is  as  remote  from 
the  nature  of  Matter,  as  to  have  Thought.  There  are  some  of  the  Ap- 
petites, that  are  called  Natural  Appetites,  that  are  not  indeed  natural  to 
the  Soul;  as  the  Appetite  to  meat  and  drink.  I  believe  when  the  Soul 
lias  that  sort  of  pain,  which  is  in  hunger  and  thirst,  if  the  Soul  nen'er  had 
experienced  that  food  and  drhik  remove  that  pain,  it  would  create  no  Ap- 
petite to  any  thing.  A  man  would  be  just  as  incapable  of  such  an  Appe- 
tite, as  he  is  to  food  he  Hever  smelt  nor  tasted.  So  the  Appetite  of  scratch- 
ing when  it  itches. 

[15.]  TRUTH.  After  all  that  has  been  said  and  done,  the  ouly  ade- 
iquate  definition  of  Truth  is,  The  agreement  of  our  ideas  with  existence. 


688  APPENDIX. 

To  explain  what  tliis  existence  is,  is  another  thing.  In  abstract  ideas,  it  is 
nothing  but  the  ideas  themselves;  so  their  truth  is  their  consistency  with 
themselves.  In  things  that  are  supposed  to  be  without  us,  it  is  the  deter- 
mination and  fixed  mode  of  God's  exciting  ideas  in  us.  So  that  Truth,  in 
these  things,  is  an  agreement  of  our  ideas  with  that  series  in  God.  It  is 
existence ;  and  that  is  all  that  we  can  say.  It  is  impossible  that  we  should 
explain  a  perfectly  abstract  and  mere  idea  of  exiotence ;  only  we  always 
find  this,  by  running  of  it  up,  that  God  and  Real  Existence  are  the  same. 
Cornll.  Hence  we  learn  how  properly  it  may  be  said,  that  God  is,  and 
that  there  is  none  else  ;  and  how  proper  are  these  names  of  the  Deity, 
Jehovah,  and  I  am  that  I  am. 

[6.]  Truth  is  The  'perception  of  the  relations  there  are  between  ideas. 
Falshood  is  The  supposition  of  relations  between  ideas  that  are  inconsistent 
with  those  ideas  themselves ;  not  their  disagreement  with  things  without. 
All  truth  is  in  the  mind,  and  only  there.  It  is  ideas,  or  what  is  in  the  mind, 
alone,  that  can  be  the  object  of  the  mind ;  and  what  we  call  Truth,  is  a  con- 
sistent supposition  of  relations,  between  what  is  the  object  of  the  mind. 
Falshood  is  an  inconsistent  supposition  of  relations.  The  Truth,  that  is  in 
a  mind,  must  be  in  that  mind  as  to  its  object,  and  every  thing  pertaining  to 
it.  The  only  foundation  of  Error  is  inadequateness  and  imperfection  of 
ideas;  for,  if  the  idea  were  perfect,  it  would  be  impossible  but  that  all  its 
relations  should  be  perfectly  perceived. 

[10.]  Truth,  in  the  general,  may  be  defined,  after  the  most  strict  and 
Metaphysical  manner.  The  consistency  and  agreement  of  our  ideas,  with  the 
ideas  of  God.  I  confess  this,  in  ordinary  conversation,  would  not  half  so 
much  tend  to  enlighten  one  in  the  meanmg  of  the  word,  as  to  say,  The 
agreement  of  our  ideas  with  the  things  as  they  are.,  But  it  should  be  enqui- 
red, What  is  it  for  our  ideas  to  agree  with  things  as  they  are  ?  seeing  that 
cori)oreal  things  exist  no  otherwise  than  mentally  ;  and  as  for  most  other 
thiuj^s,  they  are  only  abstract  ideas.  Truth,  as  to  external  things,  is  the 
consistency  of  our  ideas  with  those  ideas,  or  that  train  and  series  of  ideas, 
that  are  raised  in  our  minds,  according  to  God's  stated  order  and  law. 

Truth,  as  to  abstract  ideas,  is  the  consistency  of  our  ideas  with  them 
selves.  As  when  our  idea  of  a  circle,  or  a  triangle,  or  any  of  their  parts, 
is  agreeable  to  the  idea  we  have  stated  and  agreed  to  call  by  the  name  of 
a  circle,  or  a  triangle.  And  it  may  still  be  said,  that  Truth  is,  the  consis- 
tency of  our  ideas  with  themsdces.  Thoseideas  are  false,  that  are  not  con- 
sistent with  the  series  of  ideas,  that  are  raised  in  our  minds,  by  according 
to  the  order  of  nature. 

Coroll.  1.  Hence  we  see,  in  how  strict  a  sense  it  maybe  said,  that  God 
is  Truth  itself. 

Coroll  2.  Hence  it  appears,  that  Truth  consists  in  having  perfect  and 
adequate  ideas  of  things :  For  instance,  if  I  judge  truly  how  far  distant  the 
Moon  is  from  tlie  Eartli,  we  need  not  say,  that  this  Truth  consists,  in  the 
perception  of  the  relation,  between  the  two  ideas  of  the  Moon  and  the 
Earth,  bnt  in  the  adequateness. 

Coroll.  3.  Hence  Certainty  is  the  clear  perception  of  this  perfection. 
Therefore,  if  we  had  perfect  ideas  of  all  things  at  once,  that  is,  could  have 
all  in  one  view,  we  should  know  all  truth  at  the  same  moment,  and  there 
would  be  no  such  thing  as  Ratiocination,  or  finding  out  Truth*  And  Rea- 
soning is  only  of  use  to  us,  in  consequence  of  the  paucity  of  our  ideas,  ajid 
because  we  can  have  but  very  few  in  view  at  once. — Hence  it  is  evident, 
that  all  things  are  self-evident  to  God-. 


THE   MIND.  689 

tS.j  CERTAINTY.  Determined  that  there  are  many  degrees  of 
'Certainty,  though  not  indeed  of  absolute  certainty;  which  is  infinitely 
strong.  We  are  certain  of  many  things  upon  demonstration,  which  yet 
we  may  be  made  more  certain  of  by  more  demonstration  ;  because 
although,  according  to  the  strength  of  the  mind,  we  see  the  connection  of 
the  ideas,  yet  a  stronger  mind  would  see  the  connection  more  perfectly 
and  strongly,  because  it  would  have  the  ideas  more 'perfect.  We  have 
not  such  strength  of  mind,  that  we  can  perfectly  conceive  of  but  very  few 
things ;  and  some  Mttle  of  the  strength  of  an  idea  is  lost,  in  a  moment  of 
time,  as  we,  in  the  mind,  look  successively  on  the  train  of  ideas,  in  a  de- 
monstration. 

[8.]  RULES  OF  REASONING.  It  is  no  matter  how  abstracted 
our  notions  are — the  further  we  penetrate  and  come  to  the  prime  reality  of 
the  thing,  the  better;  provided  we  can  go  to  such  a  degree  of  abstraction. 
and  carry  it  out  clear.  We  may  go  so  far  in  abstraction,  that,  although 
we  may  thereby,  in  part,  see  Truth  and  Reality,  and  farther  than  ever  was 
seen  before,  yet  we  may  not  be  able  more  than  just  to  touch  it,  and  to  have 
a  few  obscure  glances.  We  may  not  have  strength  of  mind  to  conceive 
clearly  of  the  Manner  of  it.  We  see  farther  indeed,  but  it  is  very  obscure- 
ly and  indistinctly.  We  had  better  stop  a  degree  or  two  short  of  this,  and 
abstract  no  farther  than  we  can  conceive  of  the  thing  (distinctly,  and  ex- 
plain it  clearly  :  otherwise  we  shall  be  apt  to  run  into  error,  and  confound 
.our  minds. 

[54.]  REASONING.  We  know  our  own  existence,  and  the  exist- 
ence of  every  thing,  that  we  are  conscious  of  in  our  own  minds,  intuitively ; 
but  all  our  reasoning,  with  respect  to  Real  Existence,  depends  upon  that 
natural,  unavoidable  and  invariable,  disposition  of  the  mind,  when  it  sees  a 
thing  begin  to  be,  to  conclude  certainly,  that  there  is  a  Came  of  it ;  or  if  it 
sees  a  thing  to  be  in  a  very  orderly,  regular  and  exact,  manner,  to  con- 
clude that  some  Design  regulated  and  disposed  it.  That  a  thing  that  be- 
gins to  be  should  make  itself,  we  know  implies  a  contradiction  ;  for  we  see 
intuitively,  that  the  ideas,  that  such  an  expression  excites,  are  inconsistent. 
And  that  any  thing  should  start  up  into  being,  without  any  cause  at  all, 
itself,  or  any  thing  else,  is  what  the  mind,  do  what  we  will,  will  forever  re- 
fuse to  receive,  but  will  perpetually  reject.  When  we  therefore  see  any 
thing  begin  to  be,  we  intuitively  know  there  is  a  cause  of  it,  and  not  by  ra- 
tiocination, or  any  kind  of  argument.  This  is  an  innate  principle,  in  that 
sense,  that  the  soul  is  born  with  it — a  necessary,  fatal  propensity,  so  to 
conclude,  on  every  occasion. 

And  this  is  not  only  true  of  every  new  existence  of  those  vvc  call  Sub- 
stances, but  of  every  alteration  that  is  to  be  seen:  any  new  existence  of 
any  new  mode,  we  necessarily  suppose  to  be  from  a  cause.  For  instance, 
if  there  had  been  nothing  but  one  globe  of  solid  matter,  which  in  time  past 
had  been  at  perfect  rest ;  if  it  starls  away  into  motion,  we  conclude  there 
is  some  cause  of  that  alteration.  Or  if  that  globe,  in  time  past,  had  been 
moving  in  a  straight  line,  and  turns  short  about  at  right  angles  with  its 
forme'direction  ;  or  if  it  had  been  moving  with  such  a  degree  of  celerity, 
and  all  at  once  moves  with  but  half  that  swiftness.  And  it  is  all  one,  whe- 
ther these  alterations  be  in  Bodies,  or  in  Spirits,  their  beginning  must  have 
a  cause :  the  first  alteration  that  there  is  in  a  Spirit,  after  it  is  created,  let 
it  be  an  alteration  in  what  it  will ;  and  so  the  rest.  So,  if  a  Spirit  always, 
in  times  past,  had  had  such  an  inclination,  for  instance  always  loved  and 
chosen  sin,  and  then  has  a  quite  contrary  inclination,  and  loves  and  chooses 
holiness;  the  beginning  of  this  alteration,  or  th(?  first  now  existence  in  that 

V^^.  I.  B7 


69@  APPENDIX. 

Spirit  towards  it,  whether  it  were  some  action,  or  whatsoever,  had  some 
cause. 

And,  indeed,  it  is  no  matter,  whether  we  suppose  a  being  has  a  begin- 
ning- or  no,  if  we  see  it  exists  in  a  particular  manner,  for  which  way  of  ex- 
isting we  know  that  there  is  no  more  reason,  as  to  any  thing  in  the  thing 
feelr,  than  any  other  different  manner ;  the  mind  necessarily  concludes,  that 
there  is  some  cause®of  its  so  existing,  more  than  any  other  way.  For  in« 
stance,  if  there  is  but  once  piece  of  matter  existing  from  all  eternity,  and 
that  be  a  square;  wc  unavoidably  conclude,  there  is  some  cause  why  it  is 
square,  seeing  there  is  nothing  in  tho  thing  itself  that  more  inclines  it  to 
that  figure,  than  to  an  infinite  number  of  other  figures.  The  same  may  be 
said  as  to  rest,  or  motion,  or  the  manner  of  motion ;  and  for  all  otherbodies 
existing,  the  mind  seeks  a  Cause  v  hy. 

When  the  mind  sees  a  being  existing  very  regularly,  and  in  most  exact 
order,  especially  if  the  order  consists  in  the  exact  regulation  of  a  very 
great  multitude  of  particulars,  if  it  be  the  best  order,  as  to  use  and  beauty, 
that  the  mind  can  conceive  of,  that  it  could  have  been,  the  mind  unavoida- 
bly concludes,  that  its  Cause  was  a  bning  that  had  design  :  for  instance, 
vt^hen  the  mind  perceives  the  beauty  and  contrivance  of  the  v»orld  ;  for  the 
world  might  have  been  one  infinite  number  of  confusions,  and  not  have 
been  disposed  beautifully  and  usefully  :  yea,  iufinite  times  an  infinite  num- 
ber, and  so  if  we  multiply  infinite  by  infinite,  in  injimtnm.  So  that,  if  we 
suppose  the  world  to  have  existed  from  all  eternity,  and  to  be  continually 
all  the  while  without  the  guidance  of  design,  passing  under  different  chan- 
ges ;  it  would  have  been,  according  to  such  a  multiplication,  infinite  to 
one,  whether  it  would  ever  have  hit  upon  this  form  or  no.  Note — This 
way  of  concluding,  is  a  sort  of  ratiocination. 

{68.]  REASONING  does  not  absolutely  differ  from  Perception,  any 
further  than  there  is  the  act  of  the  will  about  it.  It  appears  to  be  so  in 
demonstrative  Reasoning.  Because  the  knowledge  of  a  self-evident  truth, 
it  is  evident,  does  not  differ  from  Perception.  But  all  demonstrative 
knowledge  consists  in,  and  may  be  resolved  into,  the  knowledge  of  sidf- 
evident  truths.  And  it  is  also  evident,  that  the  act  of  the  mind,  in  other 
reasoning,  is  not  of  a  differeait  nature  from  demonstrative  Reasoning. 

:{71.]  KNOWLEDGE  is  not  the  perception  of  the  agreement^  or  disa- 
greement^ of  ideas,  but  rather  the  perception  of  the  union,  or  disunion,  of 
ideas — or  the  perceiving  whether  two  or  more  ideas  belong  to  one  an- 
other. 

CGroU.  Hence  it  is  not  impossible  to  believe,  or  know,  the  Truth  of 
Mysteries,  or  proposiiions  that  Vv^e  cannot  comprehend,  or  seathe  manner 
how  the  several  ideas,  that  belong  to  the  proposition,  are  united.  Per- 
haps it  cannot  properly  be  said,  that  we  see  the  agreement  of  the  ideas, 
unless  we  see  how  theij  agree.  B\it  we  may  perceive  that  they  are  vnited, 
and  know  that  they  belong  one  to  another ;  though  wo  do  not  know  the 
manner  how  they  are  tied  together. 

[22.]  PREJUDICE.  Those  ideas,  which  do  not  pertain  to  the  prime 
essence  of  tilings,— such  as  all  colours  that  are  every  where  objected  to 
our  eyes;  and  sounds  that  are  continually  in  our  ears;  those  that  affect 
the  touch,  as  cf-ld  and  heats :  and  all  our  sensations — exceedingly  clog 
the  mind,  in  searching  into  the  innermost  nature  of  things,  and  cast 
such  a  mist  over  things,  th  it  *h.'re  is  need  of  a  sharp  sight  to  see  clearly 
through;  for  these  will  hr  c  mtinually  in  the  mind,  and  associated  with 
'»tber  ideas,  let  us  be  thinking  of  what  we  will ;  and  it  is  a  continual  caro 


THE  MIN».  ^91 

and  pains  to  keep  clear  of  their  entanglements,  ift  our  scrutinies  into 
things.  This  is  one  way,  whereby  the  body  and  the  senses  observe  the 
views  oi"  the  mind.  The  world  seems  so  differently  to  our  eyes,  to  our 
ears,  and  other  senses,  from  the  idea  we  have  of  it  bv  Reason,  that  we  can 
hardly  realize  the  latter. 

[18.]  WOilDS.  We  are  used  to  apply  the  same  words  a  hundred  dif- 
ferent ways  ;  and  ideas  being  so  much  tied  and  associated  with  the  words, 
they  lead  us  into  a  thousand  real  mistakes;  for  where  we  find  that  the 
words  may  be  connected,  the  ideas  being  by  custom  tied  with  them,  we 
think  the  ideas  may  be  connected  likewise,  and  applied  every  where,  and 
in  every  way,  as  the  Words. 

[23.]  The  reason  why  the  names  of  Spiritual  things,  are  all,  or  most  of 
them,  derived  from  the  names  of  Sensible  or  Corporeal  ones — as  Imagina- 
tion, Conception,  Apprehend,  etc. — is,  because  there  was  no  other  way  of 
making  others  readily  understand  mens  meaning,  when  they  first  signified 
these  things  by  sounds,  than  by  giving  of  them  the  names  of  things  sensi- 
ble, to  which  they  had  an  analogy.  They  could  thus  point  it  out  with  the 
finger,  and  so  explain  themselves  as  in  sensible  things. 

[48.]  DEFINITION.  That  is  not  always  a  true  Definition,  that  tends 
most  to  give  us  to  understand  the  meaning  of  a  word ;  but  that,  which 
would  give  any  one  the  clearest  notion  of  the  meaning  of  the  word,  if  he 
had  never  been  in  any  way  acquainted  with  tlie  thing  signified  by  that 
word.  For  instance,  if  I  was  to  explain  the  meaning  of  the  word  Motiouy 
to  one  that  had  seen  things  move,  but  was  not  acquainted  with  the  word'; 
perhaps  I  should  say,  Motion  is  a  thing's  going  from  one  place  to  another. 
But,  if  I  was  to  explain  it  to  one,  who  bad  never  seen  any  thing  move,  (if 
that  could  be,)  I  should  say.  Motion  is  a  Body's  existing  successively  in  all 
the  immediately  contiguous  parts  of  any  distance,  without  continuing  any  time 
in  any. 

[20.]  INSPIRATION.  The  evidence  of  immediate  Inspiration  that 
the  prophets  had,  when  they  were  immediately  inspired  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  with  any  truth,  is  an  absolute  sort  of  certainty  ;  and  the  knowledge 
is  in  a  sense  intuitive — much  in  the  aame  manner  as  Faith,  and  Spiritual 
Knowledge  of  the  truth  of  Religion.  Such  bright  ideas  are  raised,  and 
such  a  clear  view  of  a  perfect  agreem«nt  with  the  excellencies  of  the  Di- 
vine Nature,  that  it  is  known  to  be  a  communication  fror/i  him.  All  the 
Deity  appears  in  the  thing,  and  in  every  thing  pertaining  to  it.  The  pro- 
phet has  so  divine  a  sense,  such  a  divine  disposition,  such  a  divine  pleasure; 
and  sees  so  divine  an  excellency,  and  so  divine  a  power,  in  what  is  reveal- 
ed, that  he  sees  as  immediately  that  God  is  there,  as  we  perceive  one  an- 
other's presence,  when  we  are  talking  together  face  to  face.  And  our 
features,  our  voice  and  our  shapes,  are  not  so  clear  manifestations  of  us, 
as  those  spiritual  resemblances  of  God,  that  are  in  the  Inspiration,  are 
manifestations  of  him.  But  yet  there  are  doubtless  various  degrees  in  In- 
spiration. 

[21  .J  THE  WILL.  It  is  not  that,  which  appears  the  greatest  good,  or , 
the  greatest  apparent  good,  that  determines  the  Will.  It  is  not  the  great- 
est good  apprehended,  or  that  which  is  apprehended  to  be  the  greatest 
good;  but  the  Greatest  Apprehension  of  good.  It  is  not  merely  by  judg- 
ing that  any  thing  is  a  great  good,  that  good  is  apprehended,  or  appears. 
There  are  other  ways  of  apprehending  good.     The  having  a  clear  an<l 


692  APPENDIX. 

sensible  idea  of  any  good,  is  one  way  of  good's  appearing,  as  well  as  judg'- 
ing  that  there  is  good.  Therefore,  all  those  things  are  to  be  consi- 
dered— the  degree  of  the  judgment,  by  which  a  thing  is  judged  to  be  good, 
and  the  contrary  evil;  the  degree  of  goodness  under  which  it  appears,  and 
the  evil  of  the  contrary  ;  and  the  clearness  of  the  idea  and  strength  of  the 
conception  of  the  goodness  and  of  the  evil.  And  that  Good,  of  which  there 
is  the  greatest,  apprehension  or  sense,  all  those  things  being  taken  together, 
is  chosen  by  the  Will.  And  if  there  be  a  greater  apprehension  of  good  to 
be  obtained,  or  evil  escaped,  by  doing  a  thing,  than  in  letting  it  alone,  the 
Will  determines  to  the  doing  it.  The  mind  will  be  for  the  present  most 
uneasy  in  neglecting  it,  and  the  mind  always  avoids  that,  in  which  it  would 
be  for  the  present  most  uneasy.  The  degree  of  apprehension  of  good, 
which  I  suppose  to  determine  the  Will,  is  composed  of  the  degree  of  good 
apprehended,  and  the  degree  of  apprehension.  The  degree  of  apprehen- 
sion, again,  is  composed  of  the  strength  of  thd  conception,  and  the  judg- 
ment. ^^^ 

[60.]  WILL,  ITS  DETERMINATION.  The  greatest  mental  exist- 
ence of  Good,  the  greatest  degree  of  the  mind's  sense  of  Good,  the  great- 
est degree  of  apprehension,  or  perception,  or  idea  of  own  Good,  always  de- 
termines the  Will.  Wliere  three  things  are  to  be  considered,  that  make 
up  the  proportion  of  mental  existence  of  own  good  ;  for  it  is  the  proportion 
compounded  of  these  three  proportions  that  always  determines  the  Will. 
1.  The  degree  of  good  apprehended,  or  the  degree  of  good  represented 
by  idea.  This  used  to  be  reckoned  by  many,  the  only  thingthat  determined 
the  Will. — 2.  The  proj)ortion  or  degree  of  apprehension  or  perception — 
the  degree  of  the  view  the  mind  has  of  it,  or  the  degree  of  the  ideal'  per- 
ceptive presence  of  the  good  in  the  mind.  This  consists  in  two  things. 
(1.)  In  the  degree  of  the  judgment.  This  is  different  from  the  first  thing 
we  mentioned,  which  was  the  judgment  of  the  degree  of  good  ;  but  we 
speak  now  of  the  degree  of  that  judgement,  according  to  the  degree  of  as- 
surance or  certainty.  (2.)  The  Deepness  of  the  sense  of  the  goodness;  or 
the  clearness,  liveliness  and  sensibleness,  of  the  goodness  or  sweetness,  or 
the  strength  of  the  impression  on  the  mind.  As  one,  that  has  just  tasted 
hontry,  has  more  of  an  idea  of  ita  goodness,  than  one  that  never  tasted, 
though  he  also  fully  believes  that  it  is  very  sweet,  yea  as  sweet  as  it 
is.  And  he  that  has  seen  a  great  beauty,  has  a  far  more  clear  and 
strong  idea  ot  it,  than  he  that  never  saw  it.  Good,  as  it  is  thus  most  clear- 
ly and  strongly  present  to  the  mind,  will  proportionally  more  influence  the 
mind  to  incline  and  will. — 3.  There  is  to  be  considered  the  proportion  or 
degree  of  the  mind's  apprehension  of  the  Propy^iety  of  the  good,  or  of  its 
Own  Concernment  in  it.  Thus  the  soul  has  a  clearer  and  stronger  ap- 
prehension of  a  |.leasure,  that  it  may  enjoy  the  next  hour,  than  of  the  same 
pleasure  that  it  is  :^ure  it  may  enjoy  ten  years  hence,  though  the  latter  doth  re- 
ally as  much  concern  it  as  the  former.  There  are  usually  other  things  con- 
cur, to  make  men  choose  present,  before  future,  good.  They  are  gene- 
rally more  certain  of  the  good,  and  have  a  stronger  sense  of  it.  But  if 
they  were  equally  certain,  and  it  were  the  very  same  good,  and  they  were 
sure  it  would  be  the  same,  yet  the  soul  woiild  be  most  inclined  to  the  near- 
est, becunst;  tli-T  have  not  so  lively  an  apprehension  of  themselves,  and  of 
the  good,  and  of  the  whide  matter.  And  then  there  is  the  pain  and  un- 
eashiess  of  enduring  such  an  j'ppetite  so  long  a  time,  that  generally  comes 
in.  But  yet  this  matter  wants  to  be  made  something  more  clear,  why  the 
soul  is  more  strongly  inclined  to  near,  than  distant  good. 

It  is  utterly  imoossible  but  that  it  should  be  so,  that  the  inclination  and 
choice  of  the  mind  should  alwavs  be  determined  by  Good,  as  mentally  or 


THE    MINJD.  69& 

ideally  existing,  tt  would  be  a  contradiction  to  suppose  otherwise,  for  we 
mean  nothing  else  by  Good,  but  that  which  agrees  with  the  inclination  and 
disposition  of  the  mind.  And  surely  that,  which  agrees  with  it,  must  agree 
with  it.  And  it  also  implies  a  contradiction,  to  su|)p(,pe  that  that  good, 
whose  mental  or  ideal  being  is  greatest,  does  not  always  determine  the^ 
Will ;  for  we  mean  nothing  else,^by  Greatest  Good,  but  that  which  agrees 
most  with  the  incHnation  and  disposition  of  the  soul.  It  is  ridiculous  to 
say,  that  the  soul  does  not  incline  to  that  most,  whicli  is  most  agreeable 
to  the  inclination  of  the  soul. — I  think  I  was  not  mistaken  when  I  said  that 
nothing  else  is  meant  by  Good,  here,  but  that  that  agrees  with  the  Inclina- 
nation  and  Disposition  of  the  mind.  If  thoy  do  not  mean  that  that  strikes 
the  mind,  that  that  is  agreeable  to  it,  that  tiiat  pleases  it,  and  falls  in  with 
the  disposition  of  its  nature ;  then  I  would  know,  What  is  meant. 

The  Will  is  no  otherwise  ditferent  from  the  Inclination,  than  that  we 
commonly  call  that  the  Will,  that  is  the  Minds  IncHnation,  with  respect 
to  its  own  Immediate  Actions. 

[70.]  That  it  is  not  Uneasiness,  in  our  present  circumstances,  that  al- 
ways determines  tho  Will,  as  Mr.  Locke  supposes,  is  evident  by  this,  that 
there  may  be  an  Act  of  the  Will,  in  choosing  and  determining  to  forbear  to 
act,  or  move,  when  some  action  is  proposed  to  a  man  ;  as  well  as  in  choos- 
ing to  act.  Thus,  if  a  man  be  put  upon  rising  from  his  seat,  and  going  to  a 
certain  place  ;  his  voluntary  refusal  is  an  act  of  the  Will,  which  does  not 
arise  from  any  uneasiness  in  his  present  circumstances  certainly.  An  act 
of  voluntary  refusal  is  as  truly  an  act  of  the  Will,  as  an  act  of  choice  ; 
and  indeed  there  is  an  act  of  choice  in  an  act  of  refusal.  The  Will  choo- 
ses to  neglect :  it  prefers  the  opposite  of  that  which  is  refused. 

[39.]  CONSCIENCE.  Beside  the  two  sorts  of  Assent  of  the  mind, 
called  Will  and  Judgment ^i\\exe  is  a  third,  arising  from  a  sense  of  the  Ge- 
neral Beauty  and  Harmony  of  things,  which  is  Conscience.  There  are 
some  things,  which  move  a  kind  of  horror  in  the  mind,  which  yet  the 
mind  wills  and  chooses;  and  some,  which  are  agreeable  in  this  way  to  its 
make  and  constitution,  which  yet  it  chooses  not.  These  Assents  of  Will 
and  Conscience  have  indeed  a  common  object,  which  is  Excellency.  Still 
they  differ.  The  one  is  always  General  Excellency:  that  is  Harmony^ 
taking  in  its  relation  to  the  Whole  System  of  beings.  The  other,  that 
Excellency  which  most  stron^-ly  affects,  whether  the  Excellency  be  more 
general  or  particular.  But  the  degree,  wherein  we  are  affected  by  any 
Excellency,  is  in  proportion  compounded  of  the  Extensiveness,  and  the  In- 
tensiveness,  of  our  view  of  that  Excellency. 

[I.]  EXCELLENCY.  There  has  nothing  been  more  without  a  defi- 
nition, than  Excellency ;  although  it  be  what  we  are  more  concerned  with, 
than  any  thing  else  whatsoever:  yea,  we  are  concerned  with  nothing  else. 
Bait  what  is  this  Excellency  ?  Wherein  is  one  thing  excellent,  and  anoth- 
er evil ;  one  beautiful,  and  another  deformed?  Some  have  said  that  all 
Excellency  i^  Harmony.,  Symmetry,  or  Proportion ;  but  they  have  not  yet 
explained  it.  We  would  know.  Why  Proportion  is  more  excellent  than 
Disproportion ;  that  is,  why  Proportion  is  pleasant  to  the  mind,  and  Dis- 
proportion unpleasant?  Proportion  is  a  thing  that  may  be  explained  yet 
further.  It  is  an  Equality,  or  Likeness  of  ratios ;  so  that  it  is  the  Equali- 
ty, that  makes  the  Proportion.  Excellency  therefore  seems  to  consist  in 
Equality.  Thus,  if  there  be  two  perfect  equal  c\r dee,  or  globes,  together, 
fhere  is  something  more  of  beauty  than  if  they  wereof  nne^ua/,  dispropor- 


094  APPENDIX. 

tionate  magnitudes.  And  if  two  parallel  lines  be  drawn,  the  beauty  i*- 
greater,  than  if  they  were  o6/i^ue/?/ inclined  without  proportion,  because 
there  is  equality  of  distance.  And  if  betwixt  two  parallel  lines,  two  equal 
circles  be  placed,  each  at  the  same  distance  from  each  parallel  line,  as  in 
Fig.  1 ,  the  beauty  is  greater,  than  if  they  stood  at  irregular  distances  from 

1  2 


3 

4 

0 

o 

0 

0 

0 

0 

the  parallel  Hnes.  If  they  stand,  each  in^  a  perpendicular  line,  goin^ 
from  the  parallel  lines,  (Fig.  2,)  it  is  requisite  that  they  should  each  stand 
at  an  equal  distance  from  the  perpendicular  line  next  to  them ;  otherwise 
there  is  no  beauty.  If  there  be  three  of  these  circles  between  two  paral- 
lel lines,  and  near  to  a  perpendicular  line  run  between  them,  (Fig.  3,)  the 
most  beautiful  form  perhaps,  that  they  could  be  placed  in,  is  in  an  equi- 
lateral triangle  with .  the  cross  line,  because  there  are  most  equalities. 
The  distance  of  the  two  next  to  the  cross  line  is  equal  from  that,  and  alsc 
equal  from  the  parallel  lines.  The  distance  of  the  third  from  each  paral- 
lel is  equal,  and  its  distance  from  each  of  the  other  two  circles  is  equal, 
and  is  also  equal  to  their  distance  from  one  another,  and  likewise  equal  to 
their  distance  from  each  end  of  the  cross  line.  Tliere  are  two  equilateral 
triangles :  one  made  by  the  three  circles,  and  the  other  made  by  the  cross 
line  and  two  of  the  sides  of  the  first  protracted  till  they  meet  that  line. 
And  if  there  be  another  like  it,  on  the  opposite  side,  to  correspond  with  it 
and  it  be  taken  altogether,  the  beauty  is  still  greater,  where  the  distances 
from  the  lines,  in  the  one,  are  equal  to  the  distances  in  the  other ;  also  the 
two  next  to  the  cross  lines  are  at  equal  distances  from  the  other  two ;  or, 
if  you  go  crosswise,  from  corner  to  corner.  The  two  cross  lines  are  also 
parallel,  so  that  all  parts  are  at  an  equal  distance,  and  innumerable  other 
equalities  might  be  found. 

This  simple  Equality,  without  Proportion,  is  the  lowest  kind  of  Regular- 
ity, and  may  be  called  Simple  Beauty.  All  other  beauties  and  excellen- 
cies may  be  resolved  into  it.  Proportion  is  Complex  Beauty.  Thus,  if 
we  suppose  that  there  are  two  points,  A  B,  placed  at  two  inches  distance, 
and  the  next,  C,  one  inch  farther;  (Fig.  1,) 

Fig.  1.  Fig.  2. 

I ! I 

A  B        C     b  ABC 

it  is  requisite,  in  order  to  regularity  and  beauty,  if  there  be  another,  D, 
that  it  should  be  at  half  an  inch  distance  ;  otherwise  there  is  no  regularity, 
and  the  last,  D,  would  stand  out  of  its  proper  place;  because  now  the  re- 
lation that  the  space  C  D,  bears  to  B  C,  is  equal  to  the  relation  that  B  C, 
bears  to  A  B ;  so  that  B  C  D,  is  exactly  similar  to  A  B  C.  It  is  evident, 
this  is  a  more  complicated  excellency  than  that  which  consisted  in  Equal- 
ity, because  the  terms  of  the  relation  are  here  complex,  and  before  were 
simple.  When  there  are  three  points  ^et  in  a  right  line,  it  is  requisite,  in 
order  to  regularity,  that  they  should  be  set  at  an  equal  distance,  as  A  B  C, 
(Fig.  2,)  where  A  B,  is  similar  to  B  C,  or  the  relation  of  C  to  B,  is  the- 
same  as  of  B  to  A.  But  in  the  other  are  three  terms  necessary  in  each 
of  the  parts,  between  which,  is  the  relation,  B  C  D,  is  as  A  6  C  :  so  that 
here  more  simple  beauties  are  omitted,  and  yet  there  is  a  general  complex 


THE    MIND.  695 

l)eauty :  that  is,  B  C  is  not  as  A  B,  nor  is  C  D  as  B  C,  but  yet,  B  C  D  is 
as  A  B  C.  It  is  requisite  that  the  consent  or  regularity  of  C  D  to  B  C,  be 
omitted,  for  the  sake  of  tiie  harmony  of  the  whole.  For  although,  if  C  D 
was  perfectly  equal  to  B  C,  there  would  be  regularity  and  beauty  with  re- 
spect 1.0  them  two ;  yet,  if  A  B  be  taken  into  the  idea,  there  is  nothing  but 
confusion.  And  it  might  be  requisite,  if  these  stood  with  others,  even  to 
omit  this  proposition,  for  the  sake  of  one  more  complex  still.  Thus, 
if  they  stood  with  other  points,  where  B  stood  at  four  inches  distance 
from  A,  C  at  two  from  B,  and  D  at  six  from  C  :  the  place  where  D  must 
stand  in,  if  A,  B,  C,  D,  were  alone,  viz.  one  inch  from  C,  must  be  so  as  to 
-be  made  proportionate  with  the  other  points  beneath ; 

ABC  D 

4    <     i     I     I     I     I     I     I     I     I     I     I 

I     I     I     t     i     I     i     I     i     I     I     i     I     I     I     I     I     I     I     I    i     I     I     I     I 
ABC  D 

So  that  although  A,  B,  C,  D,  are  not  proportioned,  but  are  confusion  among 
themselves ;  yet  taken  with  the  v.'hole  they  are  proportioned  and  beautiful. 

All  beauty  consists  in  similarncss  or  identity  of  relation.  In  identity  of 
relation  consists  all  likeness,  and  all  identity  between  tvvo  consists  in 
identity  of  relation.  Thus,  when  the  distance  between  two  is  exactly 
equal,  their  distance  is  their  relation  one  to  another,  the  distance  is  the 
same,  the  bodies  are  two :  wherefore  this  is  their  correspondency  and  beau- 
ty. So  bodies  exactly  of  the  same  figure,  the  bodies  are  two,  the  relation 
between  the  parts  of  the  extremities  is  the  same,  and  this  is  their  agree- 
ment with  them.  But  if  there  are  two  bodies  of  different  shapes,  having 
no  similarness  of  relation  between  the  parts  of  the  extremities;  this,  con- 
sidered by  itself,  is  a  deformity,  because  being  disagrees  with  being,  which 
must  undoubtedly  be  disagreeable  to  perceiving  benig  :  because  what  dis- 
agrees with  Being,  must  necessarily  be  disagreeable  to  Being  in  general, 
to  every  thing  that  partakes  of  Entity,  and  of  course  to  perceiving  being; 
and  what  agrees  with  Being,  must  be  agreeable  to  Being  in  general,  and 
therefore  to  perceiving  being.  But  agreeableness  of  perceiving  being  is 
pleasure,  and  disagreeableness  is  pain.  Disagreement  or  contrariety  to 
Being,  is  evidently  an  approach  to  Nothing,  or  a  degree  of  Nothing  ; 
which  is  nothing  else  but  disagreement  or  contrariety  of  Being,  and  the 
greatest  and  only  evil  :  And  Entity  is  the  greatest  and  only  good.  And 
by  how  much  more  perfect  Entity  is.  that  is  without  mixture  of  Nothing, 
by  so  much  the  more  Excellency.  Tvvo  beings  can  agree  one  with  another 
in  nothing  else  biit  Relation ;  becauce  otherwise  the  notion  of  their  twoness 
(duality,)  is  destroyed,  and  they  become  one. 

And  so,  in  every  case,  what  is  called  Correspondency,  Symmetry,  Re- 
gularity, and  the  like,  may  be  resolved  into  Equalities ;  though  the  Equa- 
lities in  a  beauty,  in  any  degree  complicated,  are  so  numerous,  that  it 
would  be  a  most  tedious  piece  of  work  to  enumerate  them.  There  are 
millions  of  these  Equalities.  Of  these  consist  the  beautiful  shape  of  flow- 
ers, the  beauty  of  the  body  of  man,  and  of  the  bodies  of  other  animals.  That 
sort  of  beauty  which  is  called  Natural,  as  of  vines,  plants,  trees,  etc.  con- 
sists of  a  very  complicated  harmony  ;  and  all  the  natural  motions,  and  ten- 
dencies, and  figures  of  bodies  in  the  Universe  arc  done  according  to  pro- 
portion, and  therein  is  their  beauty.  Particular  disproportions  sometimes 
greatly  add  to  the  general  beauty,  and  must  necessarily  be,  in  order  to  a 
more  universal  proportion  : — So  much  equality,  so  much  beauty  ;  though 
it  may  be  noted  that  the  quantity  of  equality  is  not  to  be  measured  only  by 
the  number,  but  the  intenseness,  according  to  the  quantity  of  being.     As 


696  APPENDIX. 

bellies  are  shadows  of  being,  so  their  proportions  are  shadows  of  pro- 
porn  on. 

The  pleasures  of  the  senses,  where  harmony  is  not  the  object  of  judg- 
ment, arn  the  result  of  equality.  Thus  in  Music,  not  only  in  the  propor- 
tion which  the  several  notes  of  a  tune  bear,  one  among  another,  but  in 
mfreiy  two  lotes.  there  is  harmony  ;  whereas  it  is  impossible  there  should 
be  proportion  between  only  two  terms.  But  the  proportion  is  in  the  par- 
ticular vibratious  of  the  air,  which  strike  on  the  ear.  And  so,  in  the  pleas- 
antupss  of  light,  colours,  tastt-s,  smells  and  touch,  all  arise  from  proportion 
of  iDo'ion.  The  organs  are  so  contrived  that,  upon  the  touch  of  such  and 
such  pijrricles,  there  shall  be  a  regular  and  harmonious  motion  of  the  ani- 
mal spirits. 

S  irituai  harmonies  are  of  vastly  larger  extent :  i.  e.  the  proportions  are 
vastly  oftener  redoubled,  and  respect  mere  beings,'  and  require  a  vastly 
larger  view  to  comprehend  them ;  as  some  simple  notes  do  more  atiect  one, 
wbo  has  not  a  comprehensive  understanding  of  Music. 

The  reason,  why  Equality  thus  pleases  the  mind,  and  Inequality  is  un- 
pleasing,  is  because  Disproportion,  or  Inconsistency,  is  contrary  to  Being. 
For  r>pmg,  if  we  examine  narrowly,  is  nothing  else  but  Proportion.  When 
one  being  is  jvicontistent  with  another  being,  then  Being  is  contradicted. 
But  coi'tradiction  to  Being,  is  intolerable  to  perceiving  being,  and  the  con- 
sent to  Being,  most  pleasing. 

Excellency  consists  in  the  SimiJamess  of  one  being  to  another — not 
merely  Equality  and  Proportion,  but  any  kind  of  Similarness — thus  Simi- 
■larness  of  direction.  Supposing  many  globes  moving  in  right  lines,  it  is 
more  beautiful,  that  they  should  move  all  the  same  way.  and  according  to 
the  same  direction,  than  if  they  moved  disorderly ;  one,  one  way,  and  ano- 
ther, another.  This  is  an  universal  definition  of  Excellency  : — The  Con- 
sent of  Being-  to  Beings  or  Being's  Consent  to  Entity.  The  more  the  Con- 
sent is,  and  the  more  extensive,  the  greater  is  the  Excellency. 

How  exceedingly  apt  are  we,  when  w-e  are  sitting  still,  and  accidentally 
casting  our  eye  upon  some  marks  or  spots  in  the  floor  or  wall,  to  be  rang- 
ing of  them  into  regular  parcels  and  figures:  and,  if  we  see  a  mark  out  of 
its  place,  to  be  placing  of  it  right,  by  our  imagination  ;  and  this,  even  while 
we  are  meditating  on  something  else.  So  we  may  catch  ourselves  at  ob- 
serving the  rules  of  harmony  and  regularity,  in  the  careless  motions  of 
our  heads  or  feet,  and  when  playing  with  our  hands,  or  walking  about  the 
room. 

Pleasedness,  in  perceiving  Bein^  always  arises,  either  from  a  percep- 
tion of  Consent  to  Being  in  general,  or  of  Consent  to  that  Being  that  per- 
ceives. As  we  have  sbown,  that  Agreeableness  to  Entity  must  be  agree- 
able to  perceiving  Entity;  it  is  as  evident  that  it  is  necessary  that  Agreea- 
bleness to  that  Being  must  be  pleasing  to  it,  if  it  perceives  it.  So  that 
Pleasedness  does  not  always  arise  from  a  perception  of  Excellency ;  [in 
general ;]  but  the  greater  a  Being  is,  and  the  more  it  has  of  Entity,  the 
more  will  Consent  to  Being  in  general  please  it.  But  God  is  proper  En- 
tity Itself,  and  these  two  therefore,  in  Him,  become  the  same  ;  for,  so  far 
as  a  thing  consents  to  Being  in  general,  so  far  it  consents  to  Him  ;  and 
the  more  perfect  Created  Spirits  are,  the  nearer  do  they  come  to  their 
•Creator,  in  this  regard. 

That,  which  is  often  called  Self  Love,  is  exceediuffly  improperly  called 
Love^  for  they  do  not  only  say  that  one  loves  himself,  when  he  sees  some- 
thing amiable  in  himself,  the  view  of  which  begets  delight.  But  merely 
^H  inclination  to  pleasure,  an-d  averseness  to  pain,  they  call  Self  Love ;  so 


THE    MIND.  697 

that  tlic  devils,  and  other  damned  spirits,  love  themselves,  not  because  they 
see  any  thing  in  themselves,  which  they  imagine  to  be  lovely,  but  merely, 
because  they  do  not  incline  to  pain  but  to  pleasure,  or  merely  because  they 
are  capable  of  pain  or  pleasure;  for  pain  and  pleasure  include  an  inclina- 
tion to  agreeableness,  and  an  aversion  to  disagreeableness.  Now  how 
improper  is  it  to  say,  that  one  loves  himself,  because  what  is  agreeable  to 
him  is  agreeable  to  him,  and  what  is  disagreeable  to  him  is  disagreeable  to 
him :  which  mere  Entity  supposes.  So  that  this,  that  they  call  Self-Love, 
is  no  affection,  but  only  the  Entity  of  the  thing,  or  his  being  what  he  is. 

One  alone,  without  any  reference  to  any  more,  cannot  be  excellent ;  for 
in  such  case,  there  can  be  no  manner  of  relation  no  way,  and  therefore  no 
such  thing  as  Consent.  Indeed  what  we  call  One,  may  be  excellent  be- 
cause of  a  consent  of  parts,  or  some  consent  of  those  in  that  being,  that  are 
distinguished  into  a  plurality  some  way  or  other.  But  in  a  being  that  is 
absolutely  without  any  plurality,  there  cannot  be  Excellency,  for  there  can 
be  no  such  thing  as  consent  or  agreement. 

One  of  the  highest  excellencies  is  Love.  As  nothing  else  has  a  proper 
being  but  Spirits,  and  as  Bodies  are  but  the  shadow  of  being,  therefore  the 
consent  of  bodies  one  to  another,  and  the  harmony  that  is  among  them,  is 
but  the  shadow  of  Excellency.  The  highest  Excellency  therefore  must  be 
the  consent  of  Spirits  one  to  another.  But  the  consent  of  Spirits  consists 
half  in  their  mutual  love  one  to  another.  And  the  sweet  harmony  be- 
tween the  various  parts  of  the  Universe,  is  only  an  image  of  mutual  love. 
But  yet  a  lower  kind  of  love  may  be  odious,  because  it  hinders,  or  is  con- 
trary to,  a  higher  and  more  general.  Even  a  lower  proportion  is  often  a 
deformity,  because  it  is  contrary  to  a  more  general  proportion. 

CorolL  1 .  If  so  much  of  the  beauty  and  excellency  of  Spirits  consists  in 
Love,  then  the  deformity  of  evil  spirits  consists  as  much  in  hatred  and 
malice. 

CorolL  2.  The  more  any  doctrine,  or  institution,  brings  to  light  of  the 
Spiritual  World,  the  more  will  it  urge  to  Love  and  Charity. 

Happiness  strictly  consists  in  the  perception  of  these  three  things :  of 
the  consent  of  being  to  its  own  being ;  of  its  owai  consent  to  being ;  and  of 
being's  consent  to  being. 

[14.]  Excellence,  to  put  it  in  other  words,  is  that  which  is  beautiful 
and  lovely.  That  which  is  beautiful,  considered  by  itself  separately,  and 
deformed,  considered  as  a  part  of  something  else  more  extended ;  or  beau- 
tiful, only  with  respect  to  itself  and  a  few  other  things,  and  not  as  a  part  of 
that  which  contains  all  things— the  Universe—;  is  false  beauty  and  a  con- 
fined beauty.  That  which  is  beautiful,  with  respect  to  the  university  of 
things,  has  a  generally  extended  excellence  and  a  true  beauty;  and  themore 
extended,  or  limited,  its  system  is,  the  more  confined  or  extended  is  its 
beauty. 

[62.]  As  BODIES,  the  objects  of  our  external  senses,  are  but  the  shadows 
f)f  beings ;  that  harmony,  wherein  consists  sensible  excellency  and  beauty, 
is  but  tlie  shadow  of  excellency.  That  is,  it  is  pleasant  to  the  mind,  be- 
■cause  it  is  a  shadow  of  love.  *  When  one  thing  sweetly  harmonizes  with 
another,  as  the  Notes  in  musick,  the  notes  are  so  conformed,  and  have 
such  proportion  one  to  another,  that  they  seem  to  have  respect  one  to  an- 
other, as  if  they  loved  one  another.  So  the  beauty  of  figures  and  motions 
is,  when  one  part  has  such  consonant  proportion  with  the  rest,  as  repre- 
sents a  general  agreeing  and  consenting  together ;  which  is  very  much  the 
iraao-e  of  Love,  in  all  the  parts  of  a  Society,  united  by  a  sweet  consent  and 
charity  of  heart.  Therein  coRsiSts  the  beaut v  of  figure?,  as  of  flower? 
Vol.  I.  88 


098  APi»EN»I«. 

drawn  with  a  pen;  and  the  heauty  of  the  body,  and  of  the  features  of  the 
face. 

There  is  no  other  way,  that  sensible  things  can  consent  one  to  another 
but  by  EquaUty,  or  by  Likeness,  or  by  Proportion.  Therefore  the  lowest 
or  most  simple  kind  of  beauty  is  equality  or  likeness;  because  by  equality 
or  likeness,  one  part  consents  with  but  one  part ;  but  by  Proportion  one  part 
may  sweetly  consent  to  ten  thousand  different  parts ;  all  the  parts  may 
consent  with  all  the  rest ;  and  not  only  so,  but  the  parts,  taken  singly,  may 
consent  with  the  whole  taken  together.  Thus,  in  the  figures  or  flourishes 
drawn  by  an  acute  penman,  every  stroke  may  have  such  a  proportion,  both 
by  the  place  and  distance,  direction,  degree  of  curvity,  etc.  that  there 
may  be  a  consent,  in  the  parts  of  each  stroke,  one  with  another,  and  a  har- 
monious agreement  with  all  the  strokes,  and  with  the  various  parts,  com- 
posed of  many  strokes,  and  an  agreeableness  to  the  whole  figure  taken  to- 
gether. 

There  is  a'beauty  in  Equality,  as  appears  very  evident  by  the  very  great 
respect  men  show  to  it,  in  every  thing  they  make  or  do.  How  unbeautiful 
would  be  the  body,  if  the  parts  on  one  side  were  unequal  to  those  on  the 
other  ;  how  unbeautiful  would  writing  be,  if  the  letters  were  not  of  an 
equal  height,  or  the  lines  of  an  equal  length,  or  at  an  equal  distance,  or  if 
the  pages  were  not  of  an  equal  widtji  or  height ;  and  how  unbeautiful 
would  a  building  be-,  if  no  equality  were  observed  in  the  correspondent 
parts. 

Existenct:  or  Entity  is  that,  into  which  alljExcellency  is  to  be  resolved. 
Being  or  Existence  is  what  is  necessarily  agreeable  to  Being;  and  when 
Being  perceives  it,  it  will  be  an  agreeable  perception;  and  any  contradic- 
tion tjo  Being  or  Existence  is  what  Being  when  it  perceives,  abhors.  If 
Being,  in  itself  considered,  were  not  pleasing,  Being's  consent  to  Being 
would  not  be  pleasing,  nor  would  Being's  disagreeing  with  Being,  be  dis- 
pleasing. Therefore,  not  only  may  Greatness  be  considered  as  a  capacity 
of  Excellency ;  but  a  Being,  by  reason  of  his  greatness  considered  alone, 
is  the  more  excellent,  because  he  partakes  mere  of  Being.  Though  if  iie  be 
great,  if  he  dissents  from  more  general  and  extensive  Being,  or  from  Uni- 
versal Being ;  he  is  the  more  odious  for  his  greatness,  because  the  dissent 
or  contradiction  to  Being  in  general  is  so  much  the  greater.  It  is  more 
grating  to  see  njuch  Being  dissent  from  Being  than  to  see  little  ;  and  his 
greatness,  or  the  quantity  of  Being  he  partakes  of,  does  nothing  towards 
bettering  his  dissent  from  Being  in  general,  because  there  is  no  proportion 
between  Finite  Being,  however  great,  and  Universal  Being. 

CoroU.  1.  Hence  it  is  impossible  that  God  should  be  any  otherwise, 
than  excellent ;  for  he  is  the  Infinite,  Universal  and  All-compreheuding,  Ex' 
istence. 

2.  Hence  God  infinitely  loves  himself,  because  his  Being  is  Infinite, 
He  is  in  himself,  if  I  may  so  say,  an  Infinite  Quantity  of  Existence. 

3.  Hence  we^learn  one  reason,  why  person-^,  who  view  Death  merely  as 
Annihilation,  have  a  great  abhorrence  of  it,  though  they  live  a  very  afflictr 
ed  life. 

[63.]  Sensible  Things,  by  virtue  of  the  harmony  and  proportion  that  is 
seen  in  them,  carry  the  appearance  of  perceiving  and  willing  being.  They 
evidently  show  at  first  blush,  the  action  and  governing  of  understanding 
and  volition.  The  Notes  of  a  tune  or  the  strokes  of  an  acute  penman,  for 
instance,  are  placed  in  such  pxact  order,  having  such  mutual  respect,  one 
to  another,  that  they  carry  with  them,  into  the  mind  of  him  that  sees  or 
hears,  the  conception  of  an  understanding  and  will  exerting  ifseJf  in  these 


THE  MiNoy^  &^g 

appearances ;  iind  were  it  not  that  we,  by  reflection  and  reaisoning,  are  led  to* 
an  extrinsic  intelligence  and  will,  that  was  the  cause,  it  would  seem  to  be  in 
the  Notes  and  Strokes  themselves.  They  would  appear  like  a  society  of 
so  many  perceiving  beings,  sweetly  agreeing  together.  I  can  conceive  of 
no  other  reason  why  Equality  and  Proportion,  should  be  pleasing  to  him 
tbat  perceives,  but  only  that  it  has  an  appearance  of  Consent. 

[64.]  Excellency  may  be  distributed  into  Greatness  and  Beauty.  The 
former  is  the  Degree  of  Being ;  the  latter  is  Being's  Consent  to  Being. 

[49.]  It  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  mere  perception  of  Being  is 
agreeable  to  perceiving  Being,  as  well  as  well  as  Being's  consent  to  Being, 
If  absolute  Being  were  not  agreeable  to  perceiving  Being,  the  contradic- 
tion of  Being  to  Being  would  not  be  unpleasant.  Hence  there  is  in  the 
mind  an  inclination  to  perceive  the  things  that  are,  or  the  Desire  of  Truth. 
The  exercise  of  this  disposition  of  the  soul,  to  a  high  degree,  is  the  passion 
of  admiration.  When  the  mind  beholds  a  very  uncommon  object,  there  is 
the  pleasure  of  a  new  perception,  with  the  excitation  of  the  appetite  of 
knowing  more  of  it,  as  the  causes  and  manner  of  production  and  the  like, 
and  the  uneasiness  arising  from  its  being  so  hidden.  These  compose  that 
emotion  called  Admiration. 

[46.]  EXCELLENCE.  1.  When  we  spake  of  Excellence  in  Bodies. 
We  were  obliged  to  borrow  the  word,  Con^cnf,  from  Spiritual  things;  but 
Excellence  in  and  among  Spirits  is  in  its  prime  and  proper  sense.  Being's 
consent  to  Being.  There  is  no  other  proper  consent  but  that  of  Mindsy 
even  of  their  Will;  which,  when  it  is  of  Minds  towards  Minds,  it  is  Love^ 
and  when  of  Minds  towards  other  things,  it  is  Choice.  Wherefore"  all  the 
Primary  and  Original  beauty  or  excellence,  that  is  among  Minds,  is  Love ; 
and  into  this  may  all  be  resolved  that  is  found  among  them. 

2.  When  we  spake  of  External  excellency,  we  said,  that  Being's  consent 
to  Being,  must  needs  be  agreeable  to  Perceiving  Being*  But  now  we  are 
speaking  of  Spiritual  things,  we  may  change  the  phrase,  and  say,  that 
Mind's  love  to  Mind  must  needs  be  lovely  to  Beholding  Mind;  and  Being's 
love  to  Being,  in  general,  must  needs  be  agreeable  to  Being  that  perceive* 
it,  because  itself  is  a  participation  of  Being,  in  general. 

3.  As  to  the  proportion  of  this  Love ; — to  greater  Spirits,  more,  and  to 
less,  less ;— -it  is  beautiful,  as  it  is  a  manifestation  of  love  to  Spirit  or  Being 
in  general.  And  the  want  of  this  proportion  is  a  deformity,  because  it  is  a- 
manifestation  of  a  defect  of  such  a  love.  It  shows  that  it  is  not  Being,  in 
general,  but  something  else,  that  is  loved,  when  love  is  not  in  proportion 
to  the  Extensiveness  and  Excellence  of  Being. 

4.  Seeing  God  has  so  plainly  revealed  himself  to  us  ;  and  other  minds 
are  made  in  his  image,  and  are  emanations  from  him ;  we  may  judge  what 
is  the  Excellence  of  other  minds,  by  what  is  his,  which  we  have  shown  is 
Love.  His  Infinite  Beauty,  is  His  Infinite  mutual  Love  of  Himself.  Now 
God  is  the  Prime  and  Original  Being,  the  First  and  Last,  and  the  Pat* 
tern  of  all,  and  has  the  sum  of  all  perfection.  We  may  therefore,  doubtless, 
conclude,  that  all  that  is  the  perfection  of  Spirits  may  be  resolved  into  that 
which  is  God's  perfection,  which  is  Love. 

5.  There  are  several  degrees  of  deformity  or  disagreeableness  of  dissent 
from  Being.  One  is,  when  there  is  only  merely  a  dissent  from  Being, 
This  is  disagreeable  to  Being,  (for  Perceiving  Being  only  is  properly 
Being.)  Still  more  disagreeable  is  a  dissent  to  very  excellent  Be- 
ing, or,  as  we  have  explamed,  to  a  Being  that  consents  in  a  high  degree  to 
Being,  because  such  a  Being  by  such  a  consent  becomes  bigger  ;  and  a  dis* 


700^  APPENDIX, 

sentingfrom  such  a  Being  includes,  also,a  dissenting  from  what  he  consents 
with,  which  is  other  Beings,  or  Being  in  general.  Another  deformity,  that 
is  more  odious  than  mere  dissent  from  Being,  is,  for  a  Being  to  dissent  from, 
or  not  to  consent  with,  a  Being  who  consents  with  his  Being.  It  is  a  ma- 
nifestation of  a  greater  dissent  from  Being  than  ordinary ;  for  the  Being 
perceiving,  knows  that  it  is  natural  to  Being,  to  consent  with  what 
consents  with  it,  as  we  have  shown.  It  therefore  manifests  an  extraordi- 
nary dissent,  that  consent  to  itself  will  not  draw  its  consent.  The  defor- 
mity, for  the  same  reason,  is  greater  still,  if  there  be  dissent  from  consent-  - 
ing  Being.  There  are  such  contrarieties  and  jars  in  Being,  as  must  neces- 
sarily produce  jarring  and  horror  in  perceiving  Being. 

6.  Dissent  from  such  Behigs.  if  that  be  their  fixed  nature,  is  a  manifes- 
tation of  Consent  to  Being  in  general ;  for  consent  to  Being  is  dissent  from 
that,  which  dissents  from  Being. 

7.  Wherefore  all  Virtue,  which  is  the  Excellency  of  minds,  is  resolved 
into  Love  to  Being- ;  and  nothing  is  virtuous  or  beautiful  in  Spirits,  any  other-^ 
wise  than  as  it  is  an  exercise,  or  fruit,  or  manifestation,  of  this  love;  and  no- 
thing is  sinful  or  deformed  in  Spirits,  but  as  it  is  the  defect  of,  or  contrary 
to,  these. 

8.  Whien  we  speak  of  Being  in  general,  we  may  be  understood  of  the 
Divine  Being,  for  he  is  an  Infinite  Being  :  therefore  all  others  must  neces- 
sarily be  considered  as  nothing.  As  to  Bodies,  we  have  shown  in  another 
place,  that  they  have  no  proper  Being  of  their  own.  And  as  to  Spirits^ 
they  are  the  communications  of  the  Great  Original  Spirit;  and  doubtless, 
in  metaphysical  strictness  and  propriety.  He  is,  as  there  is  none  else.  He 
is  likewise  Infinitely  Excellent,  and  all  Excellence  and  Beauty  is  derived 
from  hira,  in  the  same  manner  as  all  Being.  And  all  other  Excellence,  is, 
in  strictness  only,  a  shadow  of  his.  We  proceed,  therefore,  to  show  how 
all  Spiritual  Excellence  is  resolved  into  Love. 

9.  As  to  God's  Excellence,  it  is  evident  it  consists  in  the  Love  of  kirn- 
self ;  for  he  was  as  excellent,  before  he  created  the  Universe,  as  he  is  now. 
But  if  the  Excellence  of  Spirits  consists  in  their  disposition  and  action. 
God  could  be  excellent  no  other  way  at  that  time  ;  for  all  the  exertions  of 
hhnself  were  towards  himself.  But  he  exerts  himself  towards  himself,  no 
other  way,  than  in  infinitely  loving  and  delighting  in  himself;  in  the  mu- 
tual love  of  the  Father  arrd  the  Son.  This  makes  the  Third,  the  Person- 
al Holy  Spirit,  or  the  Holiness  of  God,  which  is  his  Infinite  Beauty  : 
and  this  is  God's  Infinite  Consent  to  Being  in  general.  And  his  love  to 
the  creature  is  his  Excellence,  or  the  communication  of  Himself,  his  com- 
placency in  them,  according  as  they  partake  of  more  or  less  of  Excellence 
and  beauty,  that  is  of  holiness,  (which  consists  in  love  ;)  that  is  according 
as  he  communicates  more  or  less  of  his  Holy  Spirit. 

10.  As  to  that  Excellence,  that  Created  Spirits  partake  of;  that  it  is 
all  to  be  resolved  into  Love,  none  will  doubt,  that  knows  what  is  the 
Sum  of  the  Ten  Commandments  ;  or  believes  what  the  Apostle  says.  That 
Love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  Law ;  or  what  Christ  says.  That  on  these  two, 
loving  God  and  our  neighbor,  hang  all  the  Law  and  the  Prophets.  This 
doctrme  is  often  repeated  in  the  New  Testament.  We  are  told  that  the 
End  of  the  Commandment  is  Love ;  that  to  Love,  is  to  fulfil  the  Royal 
Law  ;  and  that  all  the  Law  is  fulfilled  in  this  one  word.  Love. 

11.  I  know  of  no  difficulties  wortli  insisting  on,  except  pertaining  to 
the  spiritual  excellence  of  Justice ;  but  enough  has  been  said  already  to  re- 
solve them.  Though  Injustice  is  the  greatest  of  all  deformities,  yet  Jus- 
tice is  no  otherwise  excellent,  than  as  it  is  the  exercise,  fruit  and  manifes- 
tation of  the  mind's  love  or  consent  to  Being;  nor  Injustice  deformed  any 
otherwise,  than  as  it  is  theiiighest  degree  of  the  contrary.     Injustice  iV 


THE    MIND.  Wt 

not  to  exert  ourselves  toward?  any  Being- as  it  deserves,  or  to  do  it  contra- 
ry to  what  it  deserves,  in  doinof  good  or  evil,  or  in  acts  of  Consent  or  Dis- 
sent. There  are  two  ways  of  deserving  our  Consent,  and  the  acts  of  it : 
(By  dcsei'vins:  any  thing,  we  are  to  understand  ihat  the  nature  of  hang  re- 
quires it  :)  By  extensiveness  and  excellence  ;  and  by  consent  to  that  par- 
ticular being.  The  reason  of  the  deformity  of  not  proportioninor  our  con- 
??ent,  and  the  exercise  of  it,  may  be  seen  in  paragraphs  3  and  5.  As  to 
the  beauty  of  Vindictive  Justice,  see  paragraph  6. 

12.  'Tis  peculiar  to  God,  that  he  has  beauty  within  hinisclf,  consisting 
in  Being's  consenting  with  his  own  Being,  or  the  love  of  himself,  in  his 
own  Holy  Spirit.  Whereas  the  excellence  of  others  is  in  loving  others^ 
in  loving  God,  and  in  the  communications  of  his  Spirit. 

13.  We  shall  be  in  danger,  when  we  meditate  on  this  love  of  God  to 
Inmself,  as  being  the  thing  wherein  his  infinite  excellence  and  loveliness 
consists,  of  some  alloy  to  the  sweetness  of  our  viev/,  by  its  appearing 
vvith  something  of  the  aspect  and  cast  of  what  we  call  self  love.  But  we 
are  to  consider  that  this  love  includes  in  it,  or  rather  is  the  same  as,  a  love 
to  every  thing,  as  they  are  all  communications  of  himself.  So  that  we  are 
to  conceive  of  Divine  Excellence  as  the  Infinite  General  Love, that  which 
reaches  all,  proportionally,  with  perfect  purity  and  sweetness;  yea,  it  in- 
cludes the  true  Love  of  all  creatures,  for  that  is  his  Spirit,  or  which  is  the 
same  thing,  his  Love.  And  if  we  take  notice,  when  we  are  in  the  best 
frames  meditating  on  Divine  Excellence,  our  idea  of  that  tranquiUty  and 
peace,  which  seems  to  be  overspiead  and  cast  abroad  upon  the  whole 
Earth,  and  Universe,  naturally  dissolves  itself,  into  the  idea  of  a  General 
Love  and  Delight,  every  where  diffused. 

14.  Conscience  is  that  Sense  the  Mind  has  of  this  Consent:  Which  Sense 
consists  m  the  Consent  of  the  Perceiving  Being,  to  such  a  General  Con- 
sent; (that  is  of  such  perceiving  Beings,  as  are  capable  of  so  general  a  per- 
ception, as  to  have  any  notion  of  Being  in  general;)  and  the  Diseent  of  his 
mind  to  a  Dissent  from  Being  in  general.  We  have  said  already,  that'it  is- 
naturally  agreeable  to  Perceiving  Being  that  Being  should  consent  to  Be- 
ing, and  the  contrary  disagreeable.  If  by  any  means,  therefore,  a  parti- 
cular and  restrained  love  overcomes  this  General  Consent: — the  founda- 
tion of  that  Consent  yet  remaining  in  the  nature,  exerts  itself  again,  so  that 
there  is  the  contradiction  of  one  consent  to  another.  And  as  it  is  naturally 
agreeeable  to  every  Being,  to  have  being  consent  to  him;  the  mind,  after 
it  has  thus  exerted  an  act  of  dissent  to  Being  in  general,  has^a  sense  that  Be- 
ing in  general  dissents  from  it,  which  is  most  disagreeable  to  it.  And  as  he 
is  conscious  of  a  dissent  from  Universal  Being,  and  of  that  Being's  dissent 
from  him,  wherever  he  is,  he  sees  what  excites  horror^  And  by  inclining  or 
doing  that,  which  is  against  his  natural  inclination  as  a  Perceiving  Being,  he 
must  necessarily  cause  uneasiness,  inasmuch  as  that  natural  inchnation  is 
contradicted.  And  this  is  the  Disquiet  of  Conscience.  And,  though  the 
Disposition  be  changed,  the  remembrance  of  his  having  so  done  in  time 
past,  and  the  idea  being  still  tied  to  that  of  himself,  he  is  uneasy.  The  no- 
tion of  such  a  dissent  any  where,  as  we  have  shown  is  odious  ;  but  the  no- 
tion of  its  being  in  himself,  renders  it  uneasy  and  disquieting.  But  when 
there  is  no  sense  of  any  such  dissent  from  Being  in  general,  there  is  no 
contradiction  to  the  natural  inclination  of  Perceiving  Being.  And  when 
he  reflects,  he  has  a  sense  that  Being  in  general  doth  not  dissent  from  him; 
and  then  there  is  Peace  of  Conscience ;  though  he  has  a  remembrance  of 
past  dissentions  with  nature.  Yet  if  by  any  means  it  be  possfble,  when  he 
has  the  idea  of  it,  to  conceive  of  it  asnot  belonging  to  him,  he  has  the  same 
Peace.  And  if  he  has  a  sense  not  only  of  his  not  dissenting,  but  of  his  con- 
senting to  Being  in  general,  or  Nature,  and  acting  accordinglv :  he  has  a 


702  APPFNDIX. 

sense  that  Nature,  in  general,  consents  to  him  :  he  has  not  only  Peacet  bui 
Jo(/,  of  mind,  wherever  he  is.  These  tilings  are  obviously  invigorated  by 
the  knowledge  of  God  and  his  Constitution  about  us,  ana  by  the  light  of* 
the  Gospel. 

[Tlie  preceding  articles  were  written  as  comments  on  the  various  sub- 
jects treated  of,  While  the  author  was  studying  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Un- 
derstanding. It  is  not  improbable  that  some  of  the  later  numbers  were 
written  while  the  author  was  a  tutor  in  College.] 


I. 

NOTES  ON  NATURAL.  SCIENCE* 

The  following  hints,  to  guide  himself  in  the  arrangement  of  his  proposed 
work,  arc  on  the  first  page  of  the  cover. 

1.  Remember  to  set  down  here,  the  order  in  which  I  would  ba?€  the 
particulars  stand ;  a  mark  here  denoting  the  paragraphs. 

2.  To  set  down  this,  and  the  following  propositions,  only  as  postulates, 
in  short,  without  standing  to  prove  them. 

3.  To  have  in  the  beginning,  Definitions,  as  the  definition  of  an  Atom, 
or  Perfect  Solid ;  and  w^hat  1  mean  by  a  body  touching  by  points,  touch- 
ing by  lines,  and  touching  by  surfaces. 

4.  Let  there  be  Postulata  ;  which  let  be  either  axioms,  or  principles, 
exceeding  plainly  deduced  from  them. 

5.  Let  there  be  Definitions  and  Postulata,  not  only  at  the  beginning 
of  the  whole,  but  at  the  beginning  of  the  particular  Chapters  and  kSections, 
if  there  is  occasion,  which  postulates  and  definitions  may  be  referred  to 
from  other  parts.  If  it  suits  best,  these  may  be  put  before  even  the  Sec- 
tions, in  the  midst  of  a  Chapter. 

The  following  Rules,  to  direct  him  in  writing  the  work,  are  on  the  in- 
side page  of  the  cover. 

1.  Try  not  only  to  silence,  but  to  gain. 

2.  To  give  but  few  prefatorial  admonitions  about  the  style  and  method.- 
It  doth  an  author  much  hurt  to  show  his  concern  in  those  things. 

3.  What  is  prefatorial,  not  to  write  in  a  distinct  preface,  or  introduc- 
tion, but  in  the  body  of  the  work  ;  then  I  shall  be  sure  to  have  it  read  by 
every  one. 

4.  Let  much  modesty  be  seen  in  the  style. 

5.  Not  to  insert  any  disputable  thing,  or  that  will  be  likely  to  be  dis- 
puted by  learned  men;  for  I  may  depend  upon  it,  they  will  receive  nothing, 
but  what  is  undeniable,  from  me ;  that  is,  in  things  exceedingly  beside  the 
ordinary  way  of  thinking. 

6.  [In  short  hand.] 

7.  When  I  would  prove  any  thing,  to  take  special  care  that  the  avat- 
ter  be  so  stated,  that  it  shall  be  seen,  most  clearly  and  distinctly,  by  every 
one,  just  how  much  I  would  prove;  and  to  extricate  all  questions  from  the 
least  confusion  or  ambiguity  of  words,  so  that  the  ideas  shall  be  left  naked.^ 

8.  In  the  course  of  reasoning,  not  to  pretend  any  thing  to  be  more 
certain,  than  every  one  will  plainly  see  it  is,  by  such  ^expressions  as, — It 
is  certain, — It  is  undeniable, — etc. 

9.  To  be  very  moderate  in  the  use  of  terms  of  art.    Let  it  not  look  a^ 


NOTES    ON   NATURAL    SCIENCE.  703 

ii^  I  was  much  recul,  or  was  conversant  with  books,  or  with  the  learned 
world. 

10.  In  the  method  of  placing  things,  the  first  respect  is  to  be  had  to 
the  easiness  and  intelligibleness,  tlie  clearness  and  certainty,  and  the  con^ 
nexion  and  dependence  of  otlier  things  upon  them. 

1 1 .  Never  to  dispute  for  things,  after  that  I  cannot  handsomely  re- 
treat, upon  conviction  of  the  contrary. 

12.  In  writing,  let  there  be  much  compliance  with  the  reader's  weak- 
ness, and  according  to  the  rules  in  the  Ladies'  Library,  Vol.  I.  p.  340,  and 
Sequel. 

13.  Let  there  be  always  laid  down  as  many  Lemmata,  or  preparatory 
propositions,  as  are  necessary,  to  make  the  consequent  proposition  clear 
and  perspicuous. 

14.  When  the  proposition  allows  it,  let  there  be  confirming  Corollaries 
and  Inferences,  for  the  confirmation  of  what  had  been  betbre  said  and 
proved. 

15.  Oftentimes  it  suits  the  subject  and  reasoning  best,  to  explain  by 
way  of  objection  and  answer,  after  the  manner  of  Dialogue. 

1.6.  Always,  when  I  have  occasion,  to  make  use  of  mathematioal 
proofs.     [The  rest  in  short  hand.] 

17.  [In  short  hand.] 

18.  If  I  publish  these  propositions, — [the  rest  in  short  hand.] 
1 9  and  20,  in  short  l^and. 


OF  THE  PREJUDICES  OF  THE  IMAGINATION. 

LemmjN  to  the  whole  : 

Of  all  prcrjudices,  no  one  so  fights  with  Natural  Philosophy,  and  prevails 
•more  against  it,  than  those  of  the  Imagination.  It  is  these,  which  make 
the  vulgar  so  roar  out,  upon  the  mention  of  some  very  rational  philosophi- 
cal truths.  And  indeed  I  have  known  of  some  very  learned  men,  that  have 
pretended  to  a  more  than  ordinary  freedom  from  such  prejudices,  so  over- 
come by  them,  that,  merely  because  of  them,  they  have  believed  things 
most  absurd.  And  triily  I  hardly  know  of  any  other  prejudices,  that  are 
more  powerful  against  truth  of  any  kind,  than  those  ;  and  I  believe  they 
will  not  give  ti>e  hand  to  any  in  any  case,  except  to  those  arising  from  our 
ruling  self-interest,  or  the  impetuosity  of  human  passions.  And  there  is 
very  good  reason  for  it ;  for  opinions,  arising  from  imagination,  take  us  as 
soon  as  we  are  born,  are  beat  into  us  by  every  act  of  sensation,  and  so  grow 
up  with  us  from  our  very  births,  and  by  that  means  grow  into  us  so  fast, 
that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  root  them  out ;  being,  as  it  were,  so  incorpo- 
rated with  our  very  minds,  that  whatsoever  \s  objected  contrary  theretni- 
to,  is,  as  if  it  were  dissonant  to  the  very  constitution  of  them.  Hence  men 
come  to  make  what  they  can  actually  perceive  by  their  senses,  or  by  im- 
mediate and  outside  reflection  into  their  own  souls,  the  standard  of  possi- 
bility and  impossibility;  so  that  there  must  be  no  body,  forsooth,  bigger 
than  they  can  conceive  of,  or  less  than  they  can  see  with  their  eyes:  no 
motion,  either  much  swifter,  or  slower,  than  they  can  imagine.  As  to  the 
greatness,  and  distances  of  bodies,  the  learned  world  have  pretty  well  con- 
quered their  imagination,  with  respect  to  them  ;  neither  will  any  body 
flatly  deny,  that  it  is  possible  for  bodies  to  be  of  any  degree  of  bigness  that 
can  be  mentioned ;  yet  imaginations  of  this  kind,  among  the  learned  them- 
selves, even  of  this  learned  age,  have  a  very  powerful  secret  influence,  to 
pause  them,  either  to  reject  things  really  true,  as  erroneous,  or  to  embrace 


704  APPENDIX. 

those  that  are  truly  so.  Thus  some  men  will  yet  say,  they  cannot  coh', 
ceive,  how  the  Fixed  Stars  can  be  so  distant  as  that  the  Earth's  annual 
rc\"olulion  should  cause  no  parallax  among  them,  and  so  are  almost  ready 
to  fall  back  into  antiquated  Ptolemy  his  system,  merely  to  ease  th'eir  ima- 
gi.iatioii.-^Thus  also,  on  the  other  hand,  a  very  learned  man  and  saga- 
cio'is  astronomer,  upon  consideration  of  the  vast  magnitude  of  the  visible 
pa/^L  of  the  universe,  has,  in  the  extacy  of  his  imagination,  been  hurried  on 
to  pronounce  the  universe  infinite;  which  I  may  say,  out  of  veneration, 
was  beneath  sucl;  a  man  as  he.  As  if  it  were  any  more  an  argument,  be- 
■csii-.f'  what  ne  could  see  of  the  universe  were  so  big,  as  he  was  assured  it 
was.  And  suppose  he  had  discovered  the  invisible  universe,  so  vas"  as  it 
is,  to  be  as  a  globule  of  water  to  another  Universe;  the  case  is  the  same  ; 
as  if  it  would  have  been  any  more  of  an  argument,  that  that  larger  Uni- 
verse was  infinite,  than  if  the  visible  part  thereof  were  no  bigger  than 
a  particle  of  the  water  of  this.  I  thmk  one  is  no  nearer  to  infinite  than 
the  other. 

JO  remedy  this  prejudice,  I  will,  as  the  best  method  I  can  think  of,  de- 
mmstrate  two  or  three  Physical  Theorems;  which,  I  believe,  if  they  are 
TClr5x]y  underslocd,  will  put  every  man  clean  out  of  conceit  with  his  imagi- 
nation :  in  order  whereunto,  these  two  are  prerequisite. 

PRELIM  fNARY    PROPOSITIONS. 

PpvOP.  I.  There  is  no  degree  of  swiftness  of  motion  whatever^  but  what  is 
possible. 

That  you  may  not  doubt  of  this,  suppose  any  long  piece  of  matter  to 
move  round  any  point  or  C'^-ntre,  to  which  one  end  shall  be  fixed,  with  any 
given  degree  of  velocity.  Now  tiiat  part  of  this  piece  of  matter,  that  is 
farthest  from  the  centre,  to  which  one  end  is  fixed,  must  move  swiftest. 
And  then  suppose  this  piece  of  matter  to  be  lengthened  out,  and  that  part 
of  it,  that  moved  swiftest  before,  to  move  on  still  with  the  same  degree  of 
velocity.  It  is  evident,  that  the  farther  end  now  moves  swifter  than  the 
farther  end  Jid  before,  by  so  much  as  the  piece  of  matter  is  longer.  And 
suppose  it  to  be  made  longer  still,  the  farther  end  moves  still  just  so  much 
swifter;  so  that,  as  the  parcel  of  matter  can  be  protracted  to  any  degree  of 
lenijth  whatsoever,  so  the  farther  end  of  it  can  be  moved  with  any  degree 
of  swiftness  whatsoever,  so  that  there  is  no  degree  of  swiftness  whatsoever 
:but  what  is  possible. 

Prop.  2.     T^ere  may  be  bodies  of  any  infinite  decree  of  smallness. 

Let  two  perfect  spheres,  A  and  B,  touch  each  otiier  in  some  point  of 
their  surfaces  at  I.  It  is  evident,  that  there  can  be  a  globule 
of  matter  just  so  big  as  to  reach  from  the  surface  of  one 
sphere  to  the  surface  of  the  other  sphere,  at  any  given  equal 
distance  in  each  sphere,  from  the  point  of  contact  I,  suppose 
at  o  and  g,  whether  the  spheres  be  greater  or  smaller.  Since 
therefore  the  distance  o  £-,  from  the  surface  of  one  sphere  to 
that  of  the  other,  is  less,  according  as  the  spheres  are  great- 
er, and  since  the  touching  spheres  can  be  of  any  degree  of 
magnitude,  and  since  censequently  the  distance  o  g  can  be  of 
any  degree  of  smallness,  and  since  the  body,  that  fills  up  that 
distance,  is  small  accordingly,  it  follows  that  there  can  be  a  body  of  any 
degree  of  smallness. 

N.  B.  This  1  take  to  be  all  that  is  meant  by  the  divisibility  of  matter, 
in  infinitum. 

Prop.  3.  That  it  is  possible  for  a  body,  as  small  as  a  ray  of  light,  to  strike 
+he  surface  of  a  body  as  big  as  the  earth,  or  finy  indefinite  magnitude,  sup- 


D 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  T05 

l>osing  it  to  be  hard  enough  to  hold  the  stroke,  so  as  to  impel  it  along  with 
-any  indefinite  degree  of  swiftness. 

Let  the  laws  of  gravity  and  motion  be  mentioned  ;  and  let  it  be  a  postu- 
latam  inserted,  that  these  laws  hold  universally,  in  all  bodies,  great  or 
.small,  at  how  great  distance  soever,  and  however  disproportionate- 

Postalafum  1.  In  every  body,  or  part  of  a  body,  however  small,  there  is 
a  middle,  between  the  two  extremes  of  that  body,  or  that  part  of  a  body. 

Postulatum  2.  That  there  may  be  bodies  of  any  indefinite  degree  of 
smallness.  That  is,  in  any  of  these  infinite  divisions  of  matter,  it  is  possi- 
ble that  matter,  or  body,  may  extend  so  far  as  the  extremes  of  that  part,and 
no  farther;  and  then  that  part  will  be  a  distinct  body.     For  instance:  Let 

the  body,  A  B.b.^  by  you  supposed  to  be  as  small,  as  it  is  possible  a  \ 

for  a  body  to  bo  :  no  doubt  but  there  is  a  middle  between  the  two         ^, 
extremes  of  that  body,  how  small  soever  it  be,  as  at  C.     Now  we  C 
mean,  that  it  is  pcssible  that  matter  may  not  extend  any  further, 
than  to  the  extremes  of  the  half  of  that  body,  or  only  from  B  to  C.  ^ 
So  that  it  is  possible,  that  there  may  be  a  body  smaller  than  A  B,  however 
small  that  is. 

Postulitum  3.  That  there  is  no  degree  of  swiftness  of  motion,  but  what 
IS  possible.     For  instance,  suppose  the  body,  A  B,  to  be  fixed  ^ 

at  the  point  B,  and  to  move  round  the  point  B,  in  an  hour. 
If  the  body,  A  B,  be  made  as  long  again,  yet  it  is  possible  it 
may  be  moved  round  in  an  hour:  so  let  it  be  made  never  so 
long.  Thus  it  is  manifest,  that  the  longer  it  is,  the  swifter 
doth  the  further  extreme  move.  B^ 

Postulatum  4.  That  the  separating  of  bodies,  or  the  parts  of  bodies, 
which  touch  each  other,  is  always  by  Divulsion,  or  falling  asunder.  That 
is,  if,  of  the  body,  A  D,  the  parts,  A  C,  C  D,  be  sepa-  C 

rated,  it  must  be  by  a  force,  pulling  one  from  the  other.Af  I  ID 

It  cannot  be  by  protrusion  ;  because  nothing  can  be 
between  them  at  that  veryplace^  where  they  touch,  before  they  are  separa* 
ted.  Thus,  if  we  suppose  thep  to  be  separated,  by  the  driving  in  of  a 
wedge  at  C  ;  yet  the  parts  lAust  be  first  separated,  before  the  wedge 
could  get  between  them.  Not  but  that  protrusion,  or  impulsion,  in 
another  place,  might  cause  the  divulsion  in 
that.  Or,  if  WH  suppose  the  part  of  the  body, 
A  D,  to  be  broken  thus— let  the  two  ends, 
A  and  D,  be  laid  on  two  other  bodies  G  and 
H.  and  broken  by  the  striking  of  the  body  O 
in  the  middle  at  C.  Even  then  it  is  mani- 
fest, that  the  parts  A  C  and  C  D  were  pull- 
ed asunder:  the  extreme,  e,  of  A  C,  was 
pulled  from  the  extreme,  /,  of  C.  D.  This 
is  all  that  I  mean  by  Divulsion. 

Postulatum  5.  A  body  every  Vv'here  in  every  other  respect  equal,  if  there 
be  a  possibility  of  separating  the  parts,  may  be  x         M 

most  easily  separated  where  it  is  least.     For  in-      r — -— — ^-— — -p— i 
stance,  the  body,  I  K,  may  be  more  easily  pulled  J         ^]^  K 

in  two  at  L  than  at  M.  And  it  is  least,  where  it  is      i — — '  ~"~-' — ' 

most  easily  separated. 

Postulatum  6.  If  the  parts  of  a  given  body,  may  be  separated  by  a  given 
degree  of  force;  the  same  body,  retaining  the  same  degree  of  inseparable- 
ness,  or  another  body  with  an  equal  degree  of  inseparableness,  will  ever- 
more be  separated  when  that  degree  offeree  is  applied. 

Postulatum  1.  Every  body,  and  every  part  of  body,  has  length,  breadtii 
and  thickness. 

Vol.  I.  89 


'70€  APPENDIX. 

OF  BEING. 

That  there  should  absolutely  be  INothuigat  all,  is  utterly  impossible. 
The  mind,  let  it  stretch  its  conceptions  ever  so  far,  can  never  so  much  as 
bring  itself  to  conceive  of  a  state  of  perfect  Nothing.  It  puts  the  mind 
into  mere  convulsion  and  confusion,  to  think  of  such  a  state :  and  it  con- 
tradicts the  very  nature  of  the  soul,  to  think  that  such  a  state  should  be. 
It  is  the  greatest  of  contradictions,  and  the  aggregate  of  all  cuntradictions, 
to  say  that  thikg  should  not  be.  It  is  true,  we  eannot  so  distinctly 
show  the  contradiction  in  words  ;  because  we  cannot  talk  about  it,  witli- 
out  speaking  stark  nonsense,  and  contradicting  ourselves  at  every  word: 
and  because  Nothing  is  that,  whereby  we  distinctly  show  other  particular 
contradictions.  But  here  we  are  run  up  to  our  first  principle,  and  have 
no  other  to  explain  the  nothingness,  or  not  being  of  Nothing  by.  In- 
deed we  can  mean  nothing  else  by  Nothing,  but  a  state  of  absolute  con- 
tradiction ;  and  if  any  man  thinks^  that  he  can  conceive  well  enough  how 
there  should  be  Nothing,  I  will  engage,  that  what  he  means  by  Nothmg, 
is  as  much  Something,  as  anything  that  he  ever  thought  of  in  his  life;  and  I 
believe,  that  if  he  knew  what  Nothing  was,  it  would  be  intuitively  evident 
to  him  that  it  could  not  be. — Thus  we  see  it  is  necessary  that  some  being 
shouid  eternally  be.  And  it  is  a  more  palpable  contradiction  still  to  say, 
that  there  must  be  Being  somewhere,  and  not  otherwhere,  for  the  words 
Absolute  J^'othing,  and  Where,  contradict  each  other.  And,  besides,  it 
gives  as  great  a  shock  to  the  mind,  to  think  of  pure  Nothing  being  in  any 
one  place,  as  it  does  to  think  of  it  in  all  places:  and  it  is  self-evident,  that 
there  can  be  Nothing  in  one  place,  as  well  as  in  another  ;  and  if  there  can 
be  in  one,  there  can  be  all.  So  that  we  see  that  this  Necessary,  Eternal 
Being  must  be  Infinite  and  Omnipresent. 

This  Infinite  and  Omnipresent  benig  cannot  be  solid.  Let  us  see  how 
contradictory  it  is,  to  say  that  an  Infinite  being  is  solid ;  for  solidity  surely 
is  nothing,  but  resistance  to  other  solidities. — Space  is  this  necessary, 
eternal,  infinite,  and  omnipresent  being.  We  find  that  we  can,  with  ease, 
conceive  how  all  other  beings  should  not  be.  We  can  remove  them  out  of 
our  minds,  and  place  some  other  in  the  nfcm  of  them  :  but  Space  is  the 
very  thing,  that  we  can  never  remove,  and  conceive  of  its  not  being.  If  a 
man  would  imagine  Space  any  where  to  be  divided,  so  as  there  should  be 
nothing  between  the  divided  parts,  there  remains  Space  between,  not- 
withstanding, and  so  the  man  contradicts  himself.  And  it  is  self-evident  I 
believe  to  every  man,  that  Space  is  necessary,  eternal,  infinite  and  omnipre- 
sent. But  I  had  as  good  speak  plain:  I  have  already  said  as  much  as,  that 
Space  is  God.  And  it  is  indeed  clear  to  me,  that  all  the  Space  there  is, 
not  proper  to  body,  all  the  Space  there  is  without  the  bounds  of  Crea- 
tion, all  the  Space  there  was  before  the  Creation,  is  God  himself;  and  no 
body  would  in  the  least  pick  at  it,  if  it  were  not  because  of  the  gross 
eonceptions,  that  we  have  of  Space. 

A  state  of  absolute  nothing  is  a  state  of  absolute  contradiction.  Abso- 
lute notliing  is  the  aggregate  of  all  the  contradictions  in  the  world :  a 
state,  wherein  there  is  neither  body,  nor  spirit,  nor  space,  neither  empty 
space  nor  full  space,  neither  little  nor  great,  narrow  nor  broad,  neither  in- 
finite space  nor  finite  space,  not  even  a  mathematical  point,  neither  up  nor 
down,  neither  north  nor  south,  (I  do  not  mean,  as  it  is  with  respect  to  the 
body  of  the  earth,  or  some  other  great  body.)  but  no  contrary  points,  posi- 
tions or  directions,  no  such  thins;  as  either  here  or  there,  this  way  or  that 
way,  or  any  way.  WHien  we  go  about  to  form  an  idea  of  perfect  Nothing, 
we  must  shut  out  all  these  things:  we  must  shut  out  of  our  minds  both 
space  that  hap  something  in  it ,  and  space  that  has  nothing  in  it.  We 
iniist  not  allow  ourselves  to  think  of  the  least  part  of  Space,  be  it  ever  so 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  tCW 

small.  Nor  must  we  suffer  our  thoughts  to  take  sanctuary  in  a  mathe- 
matical point.  When  go  to  expel  being  out  of  our  thoughts,  we  must 
be  careful  not  to  leave  empty  space  in  the  room  of  it;  and  when  we  go 
to  expel  emptiness  from  «iur  thoughts,  we  must  not  think  to  squeeze  it  out 
by  any  thing  close,  harJ  and  solid ;  but  we  must  think  of  the  same,  that 
the  sleeping  rocks  do  dream  of;  and  not  till  then,  shall  we  get  a  complete 
idea  of  Nothing. 

When  we  go  to  enquire,  Whether  or  no,  there  can  be  absolutely  No- 
thing? we  utter  nonsense,  in  so  enquiring.  The  stating  of  the  question  is 
nonsense;  because  we  make  a  disjunction  where  there  is  none.  Either 
Being,  or  absolute  Nothing,  is  no  disjunction;  no  more  than  whether  a 
triangle  is  a  triangle,  or  not  a  triangle.  There  is  no  other  way,  but  only 
for  there  to  be  existence :  there  is  no  such  thing,  as  absolute'  Nothino-. 
There  is  such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect  to  this  ink  and  paper": 
there  is  such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect  to  you  and  me :  there  is 
such  a  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect  to  this  ^lobe  of  earth,  and  with  re- 
spect to  this  Universe.  There  is  another  way,  beside  these  things,  hav- 
ing existence ;  but  there  is  no  such  thing,  as  Nothing,  with  respect  to  En- 
tity, or  Being,  absolutely  considered.  We  do  not  know  what  we  say,  if 
we  say,  that  we  think  it  possible  in  itself,  that  there  should  not  be  Entity. 

And  how  doth  it  grate  upon  the  mind,  to  think  that  Something  should 
be  from  all  eternity,  and  yet  Nothing  all  the  while  be  conscious  of  it.  Ta 
illustrate  this:  Let  us  suppose  that  the  World  had  a  being  from  all  eter- 
nity, and  had  many  great  changes,  and  wonderful  revolutions,  and  all  the 
while  Nothing  knew  it,  there  was  no  knowledge  in  the  Universe  of  any 
such  thing.  How  is  it  possible  to  bring  the  mind  to  imagine  this  ?  Yea, 
it  is  really  impossible  it  should  be,  that  any  thing  should  exist,  and  No- 
thing know  it  Then  you  will  say^  If  it  be  so,  it  is,  because  Nothing  has 
any  existence  but  in  consciousness :  No,  certainly,  no  where  else,  but  ei- 
ther in  created  or  uncreated  consciousness. 

Suppose  there  were  another  Universe,  merely  of  bodies,  created  at  a 
great  distance  from  this ;  created  in  excellent  order,  harmonious  motions, 
and  a  beautiful  variety ;  and  there  was  no  created  intelligence  in  it,  no-  - 
thing  but  senseless  bodies,  and  nothing  but  God  knew  any  thing  of  it.  I 
demand  where  else  that  Universe  would  have  a  being,  but  only  in  the  Di 
vine  consciousness?  Certainly,  in  no  other  respect.  There  would  be 
figures,  and  magnitudes,  and  motions,  and  proportions  ;  but  where,  where 
else,  except  in  the  Almighty's  knowledge?  How  is  it  possible  there 
should? — But  then  you  will  say.  For  the  same  reason,  in  a  room  closely 
shut  up,  which  nobody  sees,  there  is  nothing,  except  in  God's  knowledge* 
— I  answer.  Created  beings  are  conscious  of  the  effects  of  what  is  in  the" 
room ;  for,  perhaps,  there  is  not  one  leaf  of  a  tree,  nor  a  spire  of  grass,  but 
what  produces  effects,  all  over  the  Universe  and  will  produce  them,  to  the 
end  of  eternity.  But  any  otherwise,  there  is  nothing  in  a  room  so  shut 
up,  but  only  in  God's  consciousness.  How  can  any  thing  be  there,  any 
other  way?  This  will  appear  to  be  truly  so,  to  any  one  who  thinks  of  it, 
with  the  whole  united  strength  of  his  mind.  Let  us  supoose,  for  illustra- 
tion, this  impossibility,  that  all  the  spirits  in  the  Universe  were,  for  a  time, 
deprived  of  their  consciousness,  and  that  God's  consciousness,  at  the  same 
time,  were  to  be  intermitted.  I  say  the  Universe,  for  that  time,  would 
cease  to  be,  of  itself;  and  this  not  merely,  as  we  speak,  because  the  Al- 
mighty could  not  attend  to  uphold  it;  but  because  God  could  know  no- 
thing of  it.  It  is  onr  foolish  imagination,  that  will  not  suffer  us  to  see  it. 
We  fancy  there  may  be  figures  and  magnitudes,  relations  and  properties, 
without  any  one  knowing  of  it.  But  it  is  our  imagination  hurts  us.  We 
dw  viot  know  what  figures  and  properties  are> 


708  APPENDIX, 

Our  imagination  makes  us  fancy,  that  we  see  shapes,  and  colours,  and* 
magnitudes,  though  nobody  is  there  to  behold  it.  But  to  help  our  imagi- 
nation, let  us  thus  state  the  case :  Let  us  suppose  the  creation  deprived  of 
every  ray  of  hght,  so  that  there  should  not  be  the  least  glimmering  of 
light  in  the  Universe.  Now  all  will  own,  that,  in  such  case,  the  Universe 
would  really  be  immediately  deprived  of  all  its  colours.  No  one  part  of 
the  Universe  is  any  more  red,  or  blue,  or  green,-  or  yellow,  or  black,  or 
white,  or  light,  or  dark,  or  transparent,  or  opake.  There  would  be  no  visi- 
ble distinction,  between  the  Universe  and  the  rest  of  the  incomprehensi- 
ble void  :  yea,  there  would  be  no  difference,  in  these  respects,  between  the 
Universe  and  the  infinite  void ;  so  that  any  part  of  that  void  would  really 
be  as  light  and  as  dark,  as  white  and  as  black,  as  red  and  as  green,  as  blue 
and  as  brown,  as  transparent  and  as  opake,  as  any  part  of  the  Universe : 
so  that,  in  such  case,  there  would  be  no  difference,  in  these  respects,  be- 
tween the  Universe  and  Nothing.  So  also,  there  would  be  no  difference, 
between  one  part  of  the  Universe  and  another :  all,  in  these  respects,  is 
alike  confounded  with,  and  undistinguished  from,  infinite  emptiness. 

At  the  same  time,  also,  let  us  suppose  the  Universe  to  be  altogether  de- 
prived of  motion,  and  all  parts  of  it  to  be  at  perfect  rest.  Then,  the  Uni- 
verse would  not  differ  from  the  void,  in  this  respect:  there  would  be  no 
more  motion  in  the  one,  than  in  the  other.  Then,  also,  solidity  would 
cease.  All  that  we  mean,  or  can  be  meant,  by  solidity,  is  resistance ;  re- 
sistance to  touch,  the  resistance  of  some  parts  of  space.  This  is  all  the 
knowledge  we  get  of  solidity,  by  our  senses,  and,  I  am  sure,  all  that  we 
can  get,  any  other  way.  But  solidity  shall  be  shown  to  be  nothing  else, 
more  fully,  hereafter.  But  there  can  be  no  resistance,  if  there  is  no  mo- 
tion. One  body  cannot  resist  another,  when  there  is  perfect  rest  among 
them.  But,  you  will  say.  Though  there  is  no  actual  resistance,  yet  there 
is  potential  resistance :  that  is,  such  and  such  parts  of  space  would  resist 
upon  occasion.  But  this  is  all  that  I  would  have,  that  there  is  no  solidity 
now ;  not  but  that  God  could  cause  there  to  be,  on  occasion.  And  if  there 
is  no  solidity,  there  is  no  e:«tension,  for  extension  is  the  extendedness  of 
solidity.  Then,  all  figure,  and  magnitude,  and  proportion,  immediately 
cease.  Put,  then,  both  these  suppositions  together :  that  is,  deprive  the 
Universe  of  light,  and  motion,  and  the  case  would  stand  thus,  with  the 
Universe:  There  would  be  neither  white  nor  black,  neither  blue  nor 
brown,  neither  bright  nor  shaded,  pellucid  nor  opake,  no  noise  nor  sound, 
neither  heat  nor  cold,  neither  tluid  nor  solid,  neither  wet  nor  dry,  neither 
hard  nor  soft,  nor  solidity,  nor  extension,  nor  figure,  nor  magnitude,  nor 
proportion,  nos  body,  nor  spirit.  What,  then,  is  to  become  of  the  Uni- 
verse? Certainly,  it  exists  no  v;here,  but  in  the  Divine  mind.  This  will 
be  abundantly  clearer  to  one,  after  having  read  what  I  have  further  to  say 
of  solidity,  etc. :  so  that  we  see  that  a  Universe,  without  motion,  can  ex- 
ist no  where  else,  but  in  the  mind— either  infinite  or  finite. 

Corollary.  It  follows  from  hence,  that  those  beings,  which  liave  know- 
ledge and  consciousness,  are  the  only  proper,  and  real,  and  substantial  be- 
ings ;  inasmuch  as  the  being  of  other  things  is  only  by  these.  From 
hence,  we  may  see  the  gross  mistake  of  those,  who  think  material  things 
the  most  substantial  beings,  and  spirits  more  like  a  shadow  ;  whereas,  spi- 
rits only  are  properly  substance. 

OF  ATOMS  AND  OF  PERFECTLY  SOLID  BODIES. 

Proposition  I.  All  bodies  whatsoever,  except  Atoms  themselves,  must, 
of  absolute  necessity,  be  composed  of  Atoms,  or  of  bodies  that  are  indis- 
eerpible,  that  cannot  be  made  less,  or  whose  parts  cannot»  by  any  finitr 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE, 


709 


power,  be  separated  one  from  another.  This  will  be  clearly  seen,  as  soon 
as  it  is  seen  what  bodies  those  are,  that  are  indiscerpiblc,  or  what  is  requi- 
site in  a  body,  in  order  to  cause  it  to  be  so.  And  here  we  shall  lay  down 
this  proposition,  that  that  body,  which  is  absolutely  Plenum,  or  that  has 
every  part  of  Space,  included  withm  its  surface,  impenetrable,  is  indivisible, 
and  the  parts  thereof  cannot  be  separated  from  each  other,  by  any  force 
how  great  soever :  As  for  instance,  suppose  the  body  B  to  be  what  we  cal^ 
an  absolute  Plenum,  and  suppose  the  two  bodies,  A  and 
C,  to  come  as  impetuously,  and  with  as  great  force, as 
you  please,  and  strike  on  each  side  of  the  body  B,  I  say 
the  two  bodies  A  and  C  could  cause  no  fracture  in  the 
body  B. — For,  if  the  bodies  A  and  C  should  cause  any 
fracture  in  the  body  B,  those  fractures  must  be  on  some 
certain  places  or  parts  of  the  body  B,  and  not  in  others, 
for  there  cannot  be  fractures  in  every  part ;  for  I  sup- 
pose every  one  will  admit,  that  after  the  body  is  suppo- 
sed to  be  broken,  there  remain  parts  of  this  broken  body 
which  are  unbroken.  And  so  it  will  be,  let  the  body  be  broken  into  as  fine 
parts  as  you  please,  those  fine  parts  are  still  unbroken.  The  fraction  is 
not  through  the  midst  of  those  parts,  as  it  was  between  them  ;  so  that  the 
fraction  must  be,  if  at  all,  in  some  places,  and  not  in  others  :  and  indeed, 
breaking  of  a  body  all  over,  or  in  every  part,  is  the  same  as  to  annihilate 
it. — We  say  then,  that  the  body  B  cannot  be  broken  in  some  parts,  and 
not  in  others,  by  the  bodies  A  and  C  ;  for  if  it  is  broken  in  this  part  and 
not  in  that,  it  must  be  because  it  is  more  easily  broken  in  this  than  in  that. 
But  a  body  perfectly  solid  and  absolutely  full,  is  every  where  equally  solid, 
equally  full,  and  equally  strong,  and  indeed  every  where  absolutely  alike, 
so  that  there  is  nothing  that  should  cause  a  fraction  in  one  place  sooner 
than  in  another. 

Again.    Suppose  the  body  D  to  be  a  perfectly  sohd  body,  and  to  be  as 


^ 

Fig.  1. 

A 

^v 

B 

er 

c 

Fig.  2. 


pressingly  jammed  up  as  you  please,  between  the 
two  bodies  E  and  F,  which  are  supposed  not  in 
the  least  to  give  way  to  the  Body  D,  and  the 
surfaces  of  them,  which  touch  the  Body  D,  are 
supposed,  every  where,  to  be  perfectly  easy  and 
plain,  and  to  continue  parallel  to  each  other,  and 
to  be  every  way  infinitely  extended.  I  say,  that 
the  body  D  could  not  be  broken  by  the  pressure 
of  the  bodies  E  and  F.  For  suppose  the  body  D 
to  begin  to  be  broken  and  crumbled  into  parts  by 
the  pressure  of  the  bodies  E  and  F.  If  the  whole 
body  D  can  be  broken  by  that  pressure,  then  the 
parts  of  the  body  D  can  still  be  broken  again,  by 
the  pressure  of  the  same  bodies,  with  equal  rea- 
son, supposing  the  bodies  still  to  continue  press- 
ing'towards  each  other  ;  and  then  again  their  parts  can  be  broken  into 
other  parts,  and  so  on  continually,  and  that  as  fast  as  the  motion  of  the 
bodies  E  and  F,  towards  each  other,  shall  require.  And  truly  I  think  if  it 
be  so,  that  the  parts  can  be  breken  still  finer  and  finer:  They  can  be  bro- 
ken so  far  as  not  to  retard  the  motion  of  the  bodies  E  and  F  at  all;  and  if 
so  surely  the  bodies  E  and  F  will  presently  meet  so  as  to  touch  intimately 
every  where,  inasmuch  as  it  was  said  that  the  surfaces  of  the  bodies  were 
perfectly  even  and  continue  parallel.  And  then  I  ask.  What  is  become  of 
the  body  D?  I  think  there  can  be  no  other  answer,  but  that  it  is  annihi- 
lated, since  it  was  said  the  two  bodies  were  infinitely  extended.  So  that 
we  see,  if  the  body  D  can  be  broken  by  the  bodies  E  and  F.  then  it  can  be 


•?10  APPENDIX. 

annihilated  by  them  ;  which,  I  beheve,  nobody  will  own;  and  the  case  i^ 
all  one,  let  the  body  D  be  of  whatsoever  figure.     Q.  E.  D. 

But  here,  I  foresee,  it  will  be  objected,  to  render  what  has  been  said  in- 
valid, '•  But  what  if  the  body  B  [Pig.  1.)  should  begin  first  to  be  broken 
otf  at  the  corners,  whose  pieces  would  be  more  easily  cracked  otF  than  in- 
other  places  ;  and  what  if  it  were  less  in  some  places  than  in  others;  or 
what  if  the  bodies  A  and  C  were  applied  with  much  greater  force,  in  some 
places  than  in  others." — These  objections  seem,  at  first,  quite  to  render  all 
good  for  nothing.  But  I  must  say,  notwithstanding  these  objections, 
what  has  been  said  does  prove,  that  if  the  perfectly  solid  body  B  were 
every  where  equally  bulky,  and  the  bodies  A  and  C  were  all  along  applied 
with' equal  force,  the  perfectly  solid  body  B  could  never  be  broken.  And 
to  them  who  say,  that  it  would  tirbt  break  at  the  corners,  I  ask,  How  near 
the  corner  the  first  fraction  would  be? — If  they  tell  me  at/. ;  I  ask,  Why 
not  at  some  point  nearer  the  corner  still,  as  at  e. ;  since  the  nearer  the 
corner,  the  easier  is  it  broke.  If  after  this,  the  place  assigned  for  the  first 
fracture  is  e. ;  I  ask  again,  why  not  nearer  still ;  so  that,  at  last,  they  must 
be  forced  to  say,  that  the  first  fracture  would  be  a  point  infinitely  near 
the  corner,  or  that  the  first  piece  broken,  would  be  infinitely  small.  And 
they  had  as  good  say,  at  first,  that  none  at  all  would  be  broken,  for,  as  I 
take  it,  an  actually  infinitely  small  body,  and  no  body  at  all,  are  the  same 
thing,  or  rather  the  same  nothing. — As  to  the  other  two  parts  of  the  as- 
sertion, it  is  enough  for  them,  if  we  can  discover  that  it  is  the  nature  of 
pertectly  soHd  bodies  not  to  be  broken,  but  to  resist  any,  however  great, 
force.  Thia  will  appear  more  plainly  from  another  example. — Suppose 
the  body  e,  to  be  a  perfect  solid,  and  of  such  a   shape  rv^  o 

that  it  IS  wider  at  the  upper  end,  and  decreases  gradu-  '^' 

ally  to  a  point  at  the  lower  :  suppi>se  it  to  be  thrust 
with  indefinitely  great  force  towards  the  point  g^ 
against  the  sides/^,  and^  /i,  which  are  supposed  not* 
at  all  to  give  way.  It  has  been  proved  that,  if  it  would 
break  any  where,  it  would  be  at  the  lower  point  first ; 
and  what  we  have  said  concerning  the  corners  of  the 
body  B,  proves  that  it  would  not  break  there.  Now, 
since  nothing  but  perfect  solidity  can  hinder  the  body 
c  from  breaking,  we  have  certainly  found  out,  that  a  perfectly  solid  body 
cannot  be  broken :  for  the  body  e,  may  be  as  great  or  as  small,  a«  long  or 
as  short  as  you  please,  the,  case  is  the  same ;  and  let  the  force  that  e  is  to 
withstand  be  as  great  as  you  please — if  the  weight  of  the  Universe  falls 
against  it  from  ever  so  great  a  distance,  and  as  much  more  as  you  please — 
we  can  prove,  and  what  is  said  above  doth  prove,  that  it  would  neither 
bend  nor  break,  but  stiffly  bear  the  shock  of  it  alL 

Coroll.  1 .  From  what  was  proved  by  the  ^d  figure,  it  plainly  appears, 
that  the  breaking  of  a  perfectly  soUd  body,  and  the  annihilating  of  it,  are 
the  same  thing,  so  far  that  the  breaking  of  it  would  be  the  annihilating 
of  it. 

Coroll.  2.  Hence  it  appears  that  Solidity,  Impenetrability,  and  Indivisi- 
bility, are  the  same  thing,  if  run  up  to  their  first  principles:  For,  as  in  Fig. 
1,  the  solidity  of  the  body  B  is  that,  whereby  it  so  far  resists  the  bodies  A 
and  C,  so  that  they  shall  not  be  able,  till  the  body  B  is  out  of  the  way, 
closely  every  where  to  touch  each  other :  that  is  to  say,  the  force  of  the 
two,  A  and  C,  endeavouring  to  meet,  could  not  be  the  annihilating  of  the 
'body  B,  for  the  meeting  of  them  would  be  the  annihilating  of  it  by  Fig.  2.- 
So  also  the  indivisibility  of  the  body  B,  in  Fig.  1,  and  of  the  body  D,  in 
Fig.  2,  has  been  proved  to  be  that  also,  whereby  the  bodies  B  and  D  resist 
a«d  prevent  the  bodies  pressing,  upon  them,  from  touching  each  othei,  ia^ 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  711 

*siTmch  as  the  breaking  of  them  would  certainly  admit  of  it  and  would  be 
their  annihilation. 

Coroll.  3.  It  appears  from  the  two  Demonstrations,  and  from  the  two 
first  Corollaries,  that  Solidity,  Indivisibility,  and  resisting  to  be  annihi- 
lated, are  the  same  thmg;  and  that  bodies  resist  division  and  penetra  .ii.n, 
only  as  they  obstinately  persevere  to  be. 

Coroll.  4.  Since,  by  the  preceding  Corollary,  Sohdity  is  the  resisting 
to  be  annihilated,  or  the  persevering  to  be,  of  a  body,  or,  to*  speak  plainly, 
of  the  being  of  it;  (for  being,  and  persevering  to  be,  are  the  same  thing, 
looked  upon  in  two  a  little  different  ways;)  it  follows,  that  the  very  es- 
sence and  being  of  bodies  is  Solidity,  or  father,  that  Body  and  Solidity 
are  the  same. — If  here  it  shall  be  said,  by  way  of  objection,  that  body  has 
.other  qualities,  beside  solidity;  I  believe  it  will  appear,  to  a  nice  eye,  that 
it  hath  no  more  real  ones.  ''  What  do  you  say,"  say  they,  "  to  Extension, 
Figure,  and  Mobility?" — As  to  extension,  I  say,  1  air  satisfied,  that  it  has 
none,  any  more  than  space  without  body,  except  what  results  from  sohdi- 
ty. As  for  figure,  it  is  nothing  but  a  modification  of  solidity,  or  of  the  ex- 
tension of  the  solidity.  And  as  to  mobility,  it  is  but  the  communicability 
of  this,  solidity,  from  one  part  of  space  to  another. 

Or  thus:  iSince  by  Corol.  1,  Annihilation,  and  Breaking,  are  the  same; 
their  Contraries,  Being,  and  Indivisibility,  must  also  be  the  same ;  and  since 
by  Corol.  2,  Indivisibihty  and  Solidity  are  the  same,  it  follows,  that  the 
Solidity  of  bodies  and  the  Being  of  bodies  are  the  same  ;  so  that  Body  and 
Solidity  are  the  same.  • 

Coroll.  5.  From  what  has  been  said,  it  appears  that  the  nature  of  an 
Atom  or  a  Minimum  Physicum,  (that  is,  if  we  mean  by  these  terms,  a  body 
which  cannotbe  made  less,  which  is  the  only  sensible  meaning  of  the  words, 
does  not  at  all  consist  in  littleness,  as  generally  used  to  be  thought ;  for  by 
our  philosophy  an  Atom  may  be  as  big  as  the  Universe  ;  because  any  body, 
of  whatsoever  bigness,  were  an  atom,  if  it  were  a  perfect  sohd. 

N.  B.  It  will  be  necessary,  here,  to  explain  a  little,  what  is  that  we 
mean  by  a  perfectly  sohd,  absolute  Plenum  ;  because  we  have  laid  down 
that,  that  is  an  absolutely  full,  a  solid,  body,  that  has  every  part  of  space,  in- 
cluded within  its  surface,  solid  or  impenetrable.  Our  meaning  is  veryha- 
ble  to  be  mistaken,  unless  a  little  explained.  We  intend  noi  but  that  a 
perfect  solid  may  be  very  full  of  pores,  though  perhaps  improperly  so  called, 
interspersed  up  and  down  in  it,  as  in  the  perfect  ^^-^^  ^^ 

solid  L.  It  is  only  requisite,that  every  part  of  the 
body  L  should  be  intimately  conjoined  with  some 
other  parts  of  it,  so  as  not  only  barely  to  touch  in 
some  points  or  Unes  thereof;  (I  mean  mathema- 
tical points  or  lines,  as  two  perfect  globes  do,  or 
as  a  cylinder^does  a  plain,  when  it  lies  on  one  side, 
and  as  all  atoms  do  each  other,  except  the  surfaces 
where  they  happen  to  be  infinitely  exactly  fitted 
to  join  each  other,)  but  so  that  the  body  L,  al- 
though it  may  have  some  little  holes  in  it,  yet  it 
has  an  absolute  plenum,  continued  all  along  be- 
tween these  holes;  so  that  it  is  as  impregnable,  as  a  body  that  has  no  h  oles 
at  all.  This  will  be  understood  more  fully,  after  we  have  proved,  tiiat  wo 
atoms,  touching  each  other  by  surfaces,  can  never  be  separated. 

Now  it  is  time  to  apply  what  we  have  said  concerning  atoms\   to  prove  • 
that  all  bodies  are  compounded  of  such  atoms ;  for  if  we  suppose  that  all 
those  bodies,  which  are  any  way  familiar  to  our  senses,  have  interstices  so 
interspersed  throughout  the  whole  body,  that  some  parts  of  it  do  only  touch 
^hers,  and  are  not  conjoined  with  them,  by  which  they  are  rendered  im- 


A 

Fig.  5. 

C 

' 

A 

e 

' 

712  APPENBIX. 

perfectly  solid ;  yet  we  must  allow  that  those  parcels  of  matter,  which  are- 
bfci  vveon  the  pores,  i.  e.  between  this  and  the  next  adjacent  pore,  have  no 
pores  at  all  in  them,-  and  consequently  are  plenums,  or  absolute  solids  or 
atoms.  •  And  surely  all  bodies,  that  have  pores,  are  made  up  of  parcels  of 
matter,  which  are  between  the  pores,  which  we  have  proved  to  be  atoms. 

Proposition  2.  Two  or  more'  aioms,  or  perfect  solids,  touching  each 
other  by  sarface5,(I  mean  so  that  every  point,  in  any  si^rface  of  the  one,  shall 
touch  every  point  in  some  surface  of  the  other ;  that  is,  not  simply  in  some 
particular  parts  or  linos  of  their  surfaces,  however  many,  for  whatever 
does  touch,  in  more  than  points  and  lines,  toucheth  in  every  point  of  some 
surface,)  thereby  become  on-ci  and  the  same  atom,  or  perfect  solid. 

This  will  be  abundantly  clear  from  the   figure.     Suppose  the  perfect 
solid,  A  B,  and  the  perfect  solid,  C  D,  to  be  precisely 
alike  to  the  halves  of  the  perfect  solid,  AD;  viz.  A  B 
to  A  /,  aud  C  D  to  e  D ;  and  then  suppose  the  atom 

A  B  to  move  up  to  the  body  C  D,  so  that  every  point      -j |-« 

of  the  surface,  g  B,  shall  touch  every  point  of  the  sur-   "^ 

face  C  h.     Now  since  that  these  two  bodies,  when  se-    ^ '  '"' 

para're,  were  precisely  every  way  like  the  two  halves 

of  the  body,  A  D,  it  follows  that  afler  they  are  joined 

together,  after  the  same  manner  as  the  two  halves  of 

the  body,   A   D,   are,  they   must   make  up  a  body, 

every  way  precisely  like  the  body  A  D,  as  if  it  were 

the  same,  and  consequently  must  be  a  perfect  solid, 

as  the  body,  A  D,  is. 

But  perhaps  it  will  be  answered,  that  the  halves. of  the  body,  A  D,  are 
joined  and  continued,  whereas  the  two  bodies,  A  B  and  C  D,  only  touch 
each  other.  But  I  affirm  that  the  latter  are  as  much  joined  and  continued 
as  the  former  :  for  all  the  way,  in  which  the  former  are  joined  and  continu- 
ed, is  merely  as  sohdity  is  all  along  continued  from  one  to  the  other,  with- 
out the  least  intermission,  so  that  there  is  not  the  least  vacuity  betwixt 
them.  Just  t^o  it  is  in  the  latter,  after  they  touch ;  for  they  are  supposed 
to  touch  in  every  point  of  their  surfaces,  and  then  I  am  sure  solidity  is  con- 
tinued from  one  to  the  other,  without  intermission  or  vacuity.  Neither 
4oes  the  fact  of  A  B  and  C  D,  being  once  separate,make  any  alteration. 

CoroL  1.  Hence  it  follows,  that  all  atoms,  which  ever  happen  to  touch  each 
other  in  surfaces,  or  more  than  barely  in  some  certain  points,  or  lines, 
(millions  of  miUions  of  which  do  not  make  so  mucltas  the  least  surface,) 
€an  never  again  be  separated  by  any  finite  power;  since  it  has  been  pro- 
ved that  the  parts  of  atoms  can  never  be  torn  asunder  ;  and  since  it  has. 
been  proved  that  atoms,  so  touching  inter  se,  become  the  same  atom. 

CoroL  2.  From  Proposition  I.  and  Corol.  1  of  Proposition  II.  we  learn, 
that  it  must  needs  be  an  Infinite  power,  which  keeps  the  parts  of  atoms 
together ;  or,  which  with  us  is  the  same,  which  keeps  two  bodies  touch- 
ing by  surfaces  in  being ;  for  it  must  be  infinite  power,  or  bigger  than  any 
finite,  whicn  resists  all  finite  power  how  big  soever,  as  we  have  proved 
these  bodies  to  do. 

Carol.  3.  We  have  already  as  much  as  proved,  that  it  is  God  himself, 
or  the  immediate  exercise  of  his  power,  which  keeps  the  parts  of  atoms, 
or  t\vo  bodies  tending  by  surfaces, together  ;  for  it  is  self-evident  that  bare- 
ly two  atoms  being  together,  and  that  alone,  is  no  power  at  all,  much  less 
•an  infinite  power;  and  if  any  say  the  nature  of  atoms  is  an  infinite,  they 
say  th«^  same  that  I  do;  for  all  the  nature  of  them,  that  is  not  absolutely 
themselves,  must  be  God  exerting  his  power  upon  them. 

Coroll.  A  Since  by  the  foregoing  Corollary,  the  exercise  of  the  infinite 
wwer  of  God  is  necessary  to  keep  the  parts  of  atoms  together ;  and  pince. 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  713 

by  Prop.  I,  Corol.  1,  the  dissolution  of  them  would  be  annihilation  ;  it  tel- 
lows,thatthe  constant  exercise  of  the  Infinite  power  of  God  is  necessary,  to 
preserve  bodies  in  being. 

Coroll.  5.  Hence  an  incontestable  argument  for  the  being  of  a  God. 

Coroll.  6.  Since,  by  Corol.  4,  there  is  need  of  the  exercise  of  Iniinit* 
power,  in  order  to  keep  bodies  in  being,  it  clearly  follows  that  there  was 
need  of  an  Infinite  power,  to  bring  them  into  being:  so  that  it  was  a  Divine, 
and  no  created,  being,  who  created  and  preserves  the  world, 

Coroll.  7.  Hence  also  an  incontestable  argument  for  the  being,  infinite 
power,  and  omnipresence  of  God  : — of  the  two  latter,  inasmuch  as  we  see 
that  Infinite  power  is  actually  exerted,  in  an  infinite  number  of  places  at 
Once,  even  in  every  part  of  every  atom  of  the  Universe;  and  since  that, 
where  his  power  is  exercised,  there  his  essence  must  be,  his  essence  can 
be  by  nothmg  excluded. 

Coroll.  8.  Since,  by  Prop.  I,  Corol.  3,  Solidity  and  Indivisibility  are  the 
same,  and  since,  by  Prop.  II,  Corol.  3,  Indivisibility  is  from  the  immediate 
exercise  of  God's  power,  it  follows  that  Solidity  results  from  the  immediate 
exercise  of  God's  power,  causing  there  to  be  an  indefinite  resistance  in  that 
place  where  it  is. 

Coroll.  9.  Since,  by  Prop.  I,  Corol.  4,  Body  and  Solidity  are  the  same ; 
and  since,  by  the  preceding  Corollary,  Solidity  is  from  the  immediate  ex- 
ercise of  Divine  power;  it  follows,  that  all  body  is  nothing  but  what  im- 
mediately results  from  the  exercise  of  Divine  power,  in  such  a  particular 
manner. 

Coroll.  10.  From  the  same  Corollaries  it  follows,  that  Creation  is  the 
first  exercise  of  tliat  power  in  that  manner.     (Vid.  No.  47.) 

Corol.  11.  Since,  by  Prop.  I.  Corol.  4,  Body  and  Solidity  are  the  same  ; 
and  by  Prop.  II.  Corol.  8,  Resistance,  or  Sohdity,  is  by  the,immediate  ex- 
ercise of  Divine  power ;  it  follows  that  that,  which  Philosophers  used  to 
think  a  certain  unknown  substance,  that  subsists  by  itself,  [called  the  Un- 
known Substratum,']  which  stood  underneath  and  kept  up  solidity,  is  nothing 
at  all  distinct  from  solidity  itself; — or  that,  if  they  must  needs  apply  that 
word  to  something  else,  that  does  really  and  properly  subsist  by  itself,  and 
support  all  properties,  they  must  apply  it  to  the  Divine  Being  or  power  it- 
self. And  here  I  believe  all  these  philosophers  would  apply  it,  if  they 
knew  what  they  meant  themselves.  So  that  the  substance  of  bodies  at 
last  becomes  either  nothing,  or  nothing  but  the  Deity,  acting  in  that  par- 
ticular manner,  in  those  parts  of  space  where  he  thinks  fit :  so  that,  speak- 
ing most  strictly,  there  is  no  proper  substance  but  God  himself.  We  .--peak 
at  present  with  respect  to  Bodies  only  :  how  truly  then  is  he  said  to  be 
Ens  entium. 

Corol.  12.  Since  by  Corollaries  8  and  9  preceding,  Solidity,  or  Body,  ig 
iimmediately  from  the  exercise  of  Divine  power,  causing  there  to  be  resist- 
ance in  such  a  part  of  space,  it  follows  that  Motion  also,  which  is  the  com- 
munication of  Body,  Solidity,  or  this  Resistance,  from  one  part  of  space  to 
another  successively,  that  is,  from  one  part  of  space  to  th-.  Jiext  immedi- 
ately adjacent,  and  so  on  to  the  next,  is  by  Divine  Power  communicating 
the  resistance,  according  to  certain  conditions,  which  we  call  "-the  Laws 
of  Motion."  How  truly  then  is  it,  that,  "  In  Him  wejive,  and  move,  and 
have  our  being." 

Coroll.  13.  From  all  this  we  find,  that  what  Divines  used  to  say,  con- 
cerning Divine  Concourse,  had  a  great  deal  of  truth  lying  at  the  bottom 
of  it. 

Coroll.  14.  By  this  also,  we  clearly  see,  that  the  Creation  of  the  corpo- 
real Universe  is  nothing  other,  than  the  first  causing  resistance  in  such 
oarts  of  space  as  God  saw  fit,  with  a  power  of  being  communicated  suc- 
'  Vol.  I  90 


714  APPENDIX 

Cessively,  trom  one  part  of  space  to  another,  according  to  such  stated  coti- 
ditions,  as  his  Infinite  wisdom  directed,  and  then  the  first  beginning  of  thiB 
communication,  so  that  ever  after  it'might  be  continued,  without  deviating- 
from  those  stated  conditions. 

Coroll.  15.  Hence  we  see  what  are  those,  which  we  call  the  Laws  of 
J^ature^  in  bodies,  viz.  the  stated  methods' of  God's  acting  with  respect  ta 
bodies,  and  the  stated  conditions  of  the  alteration  of  the  manner  of  his 
acting. 

Coroll.  16.  Hence  we  learn,  that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  Mechanism; 
if  that  word  is  intended  to  denote  that,  whereby  bodies  act,  each  upon  the 
other,  purely  and  properly  by  themselves. 

Coroll.  17.  Since,  by  Corollary  1,  Atoms,  which  happen  to  touch  each 
other  in  surfaces,  or  more  than  barely  in  points  and  lines,  can  never  by 
finite  force  be  separated ;  it  follows,  that  all  those  compound  bodies  in  the 
Universe,  which  can  be  divided  and  broken,  have  their  parts  only  touch- 
ing each  other  in  points,  or  at  most,  in  lines. — Not  but  that  those  points 
and  lines  in  which  they  touch  may  be  of  any  number  whatsoever  : — as 
many,  if  you  please,  as  a  man  can  note  down  with  his  pen  in  his  life-time. 
Yet  those  points  and  lines  fall  infinitely  short  of  the  least  surface,  and  two 
bodies,touchingeach  other  in  all  these  points,do  not  touch  each  other  so  much, 
by  an  infinite  deal,  as  two  bodies  touchmg  in  the  least  surface.  And  al- 
though, perhaps,  cceteris  paribus^  the  more  points  bodies  touch  each  other 
in,  the  more  difficultly  are  they  separated,  yet  it  must  be  allowed  that  those^ 
that  touch  each  other  in  the  most  points,  can,be  separated  infinitely  easier, 
than  bodies  touching  in  surfaces. 

Objection.  But  you  will  say,  *'  If  so,  we  should  surely  experience  some- 
thino-  of  it :  a  thousand  to  one,  but  that  some  of  the  atoms  of  those  com- 
pound bodies,  with  which  we  converse,  in  all  their  infinite  jumbles  and  dif- 
ferent colligations  and  collisions,  would  happen  to  touch  each  other  by 
their  surfaces,  so  as  not,  by  any  finite  force,  to  be  separated ;  why  then  do 
we  never  find  any  bodies,  but  what  we  can  divide  again,  as  often  as  we 
please  :  why  do  the  surfaces  of  two  bodies  never  happen  to  touch  each 
other,  so  as  never  to  be  pulled  asunder  again  :  for  who  can  imagine  but  that 
some  atom,  in  the  surface  of  one  body,  in  so  many  innumerable  applica- 
tions, should  happen  to  touch  some  atom  in  the  surface  of  another  body, 
by  surfaces." — I  answer, 

1.  I  do  not  think  it  to  be  at  all  rash  or  absurd,  to  suppose,  that  the  Al- 
mio-hty,  in  the  first  creation,  might  take  sufficient  care  to  prevent  any  such 
fatal  or  inconvenient  consequences,  by  creating  the  atoms,  of  which  the 
Universe  was  to  be  composed,  of  such  figures,  as  that  no  surface  of  any 
one  should  be  so  suited  to  the  surface  of  any  other,  as  to  be  able  to  touch 
it  by  surfaces :  which  would  prevent  all  that  is  objected. 

2.  If  we  suppose,  that  the  Almighty  took  no  care  at  all  of  that  matter; 
yet,  it  is  a  thousand  to  one,  if,  of  all  the  atoms  in  the  Universe,  there  ever 
happened  to  be  two,  whose  surfaces  are  so  exactly  and  nicely  suited  and 
adapted  to  each  other,  as  that  they  should  precisely  coalesce ;  for  is  it 
not  infinity  to  one,  that  one  surface  should  be  so  as  to  be  precisely  fitted  to 
another,  when  there  are  infinite  other  different,  that  it  could  have  been  as 
well.  And  it  is  all  one,  let  the  surfaces  be  greater  or  less  :  and  the  odds 
is  the  same,  betwixt  infinity  and  one  atom,  and  betwixt  infinity  and  all  the 
atoms  in  the  Universe. 

3.  Suppose  there  should  be  some  atoms  in  the  Universe,  which  had 
their  surfaces  exactly  adapted :  it  is  a  thousand  to  one,  if  ever  they  came 
together :  or,  if  they  did,  that  they  should  touch  on  that  side,  where  were 
the  correspondent  surfaces. 

4.  If  those,  that  had  surfaces  exactly  adapted  to  each  other,  should  com^ 


NOTES    ON   NATURAL    &CIBNGC.  71^ 

together;  a  thousand  to  one,  if  there  are  not  some  prominences,  or  some 
such  thing,  that  shall  hinder  their  being  exactly  applied. 

5.  It"  there  should  happen  to  get  together,  some  of  those  atoms,  yea  ma- 
ny millions  of  them,  in  a  heap,  so  as  never  again  to  be  got  asunder,  and 
such  heaps  should  be  frequent ;  that  need  not  hinder,  but  that  bodies  may 
be  divided,  more  than  ever  we  yet  experienced,  and  into  finer  parts  than 
we  can  perceive  with  our  senses,  either  naked,  or  assisted  by  the  best  in- 
struments; for  what  hinders,  but  that  a  compages  of  millions  of  millions, 
should  be  so  little,  as  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  the  microscope. 

6.  Neither  would  there  be  any  such  fatal  adhesion,  if  one  atom,  in  the 
surface  of  one  body,  should  happen  to  touch  an  atom,  in  the  surface  of  an- 
other, in  this  manner;  for  it  is  but  the  taking  of  an  atom  from  the  surface 
of  one  of  those  bodies,  and  the  separation  is  made:  and  I  conceive,  if  it 
were  three  or  four  millions  of  atoms,  it  could  be  done  with  infinite  ease. 

Coroll.  18.  Hence  it  follows,  that  two  atoms  or  particles,  however 
small,  may,  by  the  force  of  their  gravity,  cleave  together,  with  any  finitQ 
degree  of  strength,  and  yet,  not  with  infinite  strength.  For,  since,  when 
their  surfaces  touch,  they  tend  to  each  other  with  infinite  strength,  and 
since,  the  nearer  two  atoms  approach  to  such  touching,  they  tend  to  each 
other,  with  so  much  the  greater  strength,  and  since,  among  the  infinite 
number  of  degrees  of  nearness,  there  is  none  but  what  is  possible,  all  which 
are  short  of  infinite ;  it  follows,  that  there  is  no  degreee  of  finite  tendency 
to  each  other,  but  what  the  least  particles  are  capable  of.  And  it  is  no 
strange  thing,  if  two  very  small  particles  should  cleave  together,  with 
such  strength,  as  to  exceed  the  force  of  the  motion  of  a  comet,  in  its  peri- 
helion; so  that,  if  all  the  force  of  that  motion  could  be  applied  to  these 
atoms,  it  shall  not  be  able  to  rend  them  asunder,  and  yet,  a  greater  force 
shall  be  sufficient  for  it. 

THINGS  TO  BE  CONSIDERED,  OR  WRITTEN  FULLY 
ABOUT. 

[first  series.] 

1.  To  observe,  that  Incurvation,  Refraction,  and  Reflexion,  from  con- 
cave surfaces  of  drops  of  water,  etc.,  is  from  Gravity. 

2.  To  observe,  that  it  is  likely,  that  the  Attraction  of  particles  of  Heat 
contributes  as  much  towards  the  burning  of  bodies,  as  the  Impulse. 

3.  To  observe,  that  water  may  quench  fire,  by  insinuating  itself  into 
the  pores,  and  hindering  the  free  play  of  the  particles,  and,  by  reason  of  its 
softness  and  pliableness,  deadening  that  motion,  like  throwing  a  stone  up- 
on a  feather-bed. 

4.  To  observe,  that,  if  we  do  suppose  an  infinite  number  of  Surfaces  in 
the  Universe,  yet,  according  to  the  number,  so  must  be  the  smalhie^s. 

5.  To  observe,  that  the  cause  that  an  object  appears  not  double,  being 
seen  with  two  eyes,  is,  that  all  the  parts  upon  the  retina,  that  exactly  cor- 
respond, end  upon  the  same  spot  of  the  surface  in  the  brain,  which  re- 
ceives the  images. 

6.  To  observe,  that  one  end  of  Respiration  is,  that  the  motion  in  the 
chest  may  be  communicated  to  the  other  parts  of  the  body. 

7.  To  consider,  whether  one  use  of  air,  in  preserving  fire,  be  not,  that 
the  particles  of  it  may  be  to  counteract  the  fiery  particles  of  the  burning 
body ;  and  whether  that  be  not  the  reason,  that  nothing  shines,  neither  rot- 
ten wood,  glow-worms,  nor  coals,  in  the  exhausted  receiver:  and  that 
may  be  one  use  of  air  in  respiration,  among  the  rest. 

8.  To  show,  that  the  probable  reason  why  the  light  of  the  ignis  fatuus, 
of  rotten  wood,  of  the  glow-worm,  etc.,  is  not  accompanied  with^heat,  i?. 


716  APPENDIX. 

because  of  the  exquisite  smallness  of  the  rays;  and  to  show,  that,  if  that 
were  the  reason,  the  rays  need  not  be  the  thousandth  part  as  small,  as 
those  of  the  sun. 

9.  To  show,  that  the  different  refrangibility  of  rays  must  of  necessity 
be  owing,  either  to  their  different  velocity,  or  different  magnitude ;  be- 
cause, there  can  be  no  other  reason,  of  their  different  attractability,  which, 
indeed,  is  refrangibility. 

10.  To  show  the  parvity  of  the  rays  of  light,  the  elasticity  of  air,  how 
wiselv  the  eye  is  contrived. 

11."  To  show,  from  (Sir)  Isaac  Newton's  principles  of  light  and  colours, 
why  the  sky  is  blue;  why  the  Sun  is  not  perfectly  white,  as  it  would  be, 
if  there  were  no  atmosphere,  but  somewhat  inclining  to  a  yellow,  even  at 
noon-day ;  why  the  Sun  is  yellow,  when  rising  and  setting,  and  sometimes, 
in  smoky  weather,  of  a  blood  red;  why  the  Clouds,  and  the  Atmosphere, 
near  the  horizon,  appear  red  and  yellow,  before  sun-rising,  and  after  sun- 
setting  ;  why  Distant  Mountains  are  blue,  etc. 

12.  Concerning  clouds,  rain,  dew,  etc.     To  show  how,       ,. ..,^ 

when  the  rarified  air,  contained  within  the  bubble,  begins    /' 

to  cool,  and  be  condensed,  and  contracted  into  a  narrower  /  "•. 

compass;  the  water  of  the  skin  of  the  bubble,  being  too  \  j 

much  for  it,  necessarily  will  begin  to  gather  at  the  bottom,  \  '  /' 

as  in  the  figure;  and  how,  by  that  means,  the  destruction    '^t^v.^ ..;/ 

of  the  Cloud,  and  production  of  Rain,  is  brought  to  pa.-s.  '' '' 

13.  To  observe,  that  all  the  rays  of  one  sort,  being  obstructed  by  any 
medium,  and  others  still  proceeding,  as  by  the  air  in  smoky  weather,  etc. : 

To  enquire,-  how  it  can  be;  and  to  observe,  that  its  so  doing  makes  it 

probable,  that  there  are  some  other  properties  in  light  and  mediums,  yet 
wholly  unknown ;  and  to  observe,  that  the  unaccountable  phenomena  of 
reflexions  prove  the  same  thmg;  and  to  enquire,  what  it  is;  and  also,  to 
seek  out  other  strange  phenomena,  and  compare  them  altogether,  and  see 
what  qualities  can  be  mr.de  out  of  them:  And  if  we  can  discover  them,  it 
is  probable  we  may  be  let  into  a  New  World  of  Philosophy. 

14.  Relating  to  the  foregoing ;  that,  if  there  be  no  new  quahties,  either 
in  the  mediuni",  or  the  rays,  that  it  must  arise  from  an  infinitely  tine  and 
artful  contrivance,  in  these  bodies. 

15.  Relating  to  the  Rainbow  :  To  instance,  in  many,  that  will  not  re- 
flect light  perceptibly,  except  it  be  obliquely. 

16.  Relating  to  No.  13  :  Why,  also,  are  not  Rays  reflected,  at  any  ima- 
ginary surface  of  water,  as  well  as  the  true  one. 

17.  To  observe,  that  the  cause  why  Thunder,  that  is  a  great  way  off, 
will  sound  very  grum,  which,  near,  is  very  sharp,  as  well  as  other  noises, 
instances  of  which  are  to  be  given,  is,  because  the  further  waves  go,  the 
wider  they  grow,  and  further  asunder,  as  it  is  in  water:  several  of  the  lit- 
tle undulations,  by  traveUing  near  together,  incorporate  with  the  great  one, 

18.  To  give  the  reason,  why  the  Lightning,  which  is  all  at  once,  has  a 
noise  of  long  continuance,  viz.  That,  although  the  Lightning  be  all  at 
once,  yet,  some  parts  of  it  are  much  farther  than  others,  and  the  noise, 
caused  by  that  which  is  farthest  off,  is  a  much  longer  time  in  coming,  and 
we  hear  the  noise  successively,  from  that  end  which  is  nearest  to  us.  to 
that  which  is  furthest  off":  So  that,  it  may  often  happen,  that  we  hear  that 
which  is  really  the  beginning  of  the  clap,  a  long  time  after  that  which  is 
really  the  end  of  it:  which  is  the  reason,  that  in  claps  that  are  very  near 
us,  the  very  first  of  it  seems  to  be  down  among  us,  and  the  last,  a  rum- 
bling in  the  heavens  above  us ;  when,  in  reality,  that  rumbling  among  the 
clouds,  which  we  hear  afterwards,  is  only  the  beginning  of  the  clap  there, 
and  that  severe  noise,  close  by  us,  the  end  of  it.  The  reason  of  this  is, 
because  Lightning  is  incredibly  swifter  than  Sound.     These  things  arc  so 


NOTES    ON   NATURAL    SCIENCE.  717 

far  certain  and  demonstrable,  that  it  is  impossible  that  it  should  happen 
otherwise. 

19.  To  observe,  that  the  weight  of  the  descending  blood  in  the  veins, 
completely  answers  to  the  weight  of  the  ascending  blood  in  the  arteries, 
in  parts  above  tne  heart ;  so  that  the  weight  of  one,  exactly  balances  the 
weight  of  the  other ;  and  the  descending  blood  in  the  veins  pulls  up  the 
blood  in  the  arteries;  and  the  weight  of  the  blood  in  the  arteries,  restrains 
the  impetuosity  of  the  descending  blood  in  the  veins;  so  that  the  blood  in 
both,  ascending  and  descending,  runs  as  easily  and  uniformly,  as  if  it  ran 
all  the  while  parallel  to  the  horizon.  So  in  the  parts  below  the  heart, 
where  the  arterial  blood  descends,  and  the  venal  ascends,  barely  the 
weight  of  the  blood,  in  the  arteries, -is  sufficient  to  raise  the  blood  in  the 
veins  even  with  it,  as  high  as  the  beginning  of  the  arteries,  according  to 
the  law  of  hydrostatics ;  and  the  weight  of  the  blood  in  the  veins  restrains 
that,  which  descends  in  the  arteries,  so  that  the  blood  in  these  also  moves, 
just  as  if  it  moved  in  a  plain,  neither  up  nor  down:  and  the  heart  has  no 
more  labour,  to  impel  the  blood  up  the  ascending  trunk  of  the  Aorta,  nor 
ease  in  impelling  it  down  the  descending  trunk,  than  if  it  ran  in  a  trunk 
parallel  to  the  horizon.  Neither  doth  the  blood  ascend, with  more  difficul- 
ty than  it  descends,  but  with  equal  facility,  both  in  arteries  and  veins, 
above  and  below  the  heart ;  and  to  show  the  philosophy  of  this. 

20.  To  show  the  grand  use  of  Respiration,  and  to  show  how  it  keeps 
nature  in  a  circulation,  and  the  blood  in  motion ;  and  why  the  course  of  na- 
ture so  immediately  ceases,  on  the  ceasing  of  respiration. 

21 .  To  show,  that  the  reason  why  the  Fixed  Stars  twinkle,  and  not  the 
Planets,  is,  because  the  stream  of  rays,  by  which  we  see  the  Fixed  Stars", 
is  infinitely  less  than  that,  by  which  we  see  the  Planets,  (however  some  of  • 
the  Fixed  Stars  may  appear  bigger  than  some  of  the  Planets,)  and  there- 
fore, much  more  liable  to  be  obstructed,  and  the  continuity  of  it  to  be  bro- 
ken, by  any  thing  in  the  atmosphere. 

22.  Relating  to  the  13th.  To  observe,  that  it  is  certain,  that  the  stop- 
ping of  one  sort  of  rays,  and  the  proceeding  of  others,  is  not,  because  that 
sort  of  rays  alone  are  stopped,  by  striking  against  the  particles  of  the  me- 
dium, from  this  experiment:  viz.  As  I  was  under  the  trees,  I  observed, 
that  the  light  of  the  sun.  upon  the  leaves  of  the  book  I  was  reading,  which 
crept  through  the  crevices  of  the  leaves  of  the  tree,  was  of  a  reddish  pur- 
phsh  colour ;  which  I  supposed  to  be,  because  many  of  the  green  rays 
were  taken  up,  by  the  leaves  of  the  tree,  and  left  all  the  rest  tainted  with 
the  most  opposite  colour ;  which  could  be  no  otherwise,  than  by  stopping 
those  green  rays,  w^hich  passed  near  to  the  edges  of  the  leaves. — N.  B  : 
that  the  light  of  the  sun,  in  this  case,  would  not  appear  coloured,  except 
the  crevices,  through  which  the  rays  came,  were  very  small. 

Coroll.  1.     Hence  bodies  do  attract  one  sort  of  rays,  more  than  another. 

Coroll.  2.  Hence  it  is  certain,  that  bodies  do  attract  the  same  sort  of 
i-ays  most  strongly,  which  they  reflect  most  strongly. 

Coroll.  3.  Hence  it  is  probable,  that  bodies  d'.  reflect,  and  attract,  by 
the  same  force ;  because  that  they  both  attract  and  reflect  the  same  sort 
of  rays. 

23.  To  observe  that  the  motion  of  no  animal, 
is  by  any  power  which  they  have,  of  impelling 
their  bodies  forward,  but  only  by  the  mere  sending 
forth  of  animal  spirits  and  filling  the  muscles,  and 
thereby  shortening  of  them.  In  the  annexed 
figure,  A  represents  the  motion  of  a  man,  B  the 
motion  of  fishei  and  serpents.     Also  to  give  the  g 

reason  of  thf  nr^otion  of  hawks  and  other   birds, 
without  any  visible  motion  of  their  wings, 


APPENDIX. 


24.  In  the  plain,  flat  rocks,  that  rivers  run  over,  there  are  commonlf 
Holes,  sometimes  for  a  considerable  depth  into  the  rock,  smooth  on  the 
sides,  having  a  stone  at  the  bottom  something  less  than  the  diameter  of  the 
hole.  That  stone  doubtless  was  the  cause  of  the  hole.  But  the  difficulty 
is,  to  know  how  the  stone  should  first  sink  down  so  far  into  the  firm  rock. 
It  must  be  thus  :  the  stone,  lying  on  the  surface  of  the  rock,  and  being  a 
little  moved  by  the  water,  gently  rubs  the  rock  it  lies  on,  and  doubtless  rubs 
off" some  particles  of  the  rock;  and  so  continuing  to  rub  for  a  long  time, 
perhaps  hundreds  of  years,  it  wears  down  to  such  a  depth  into  the  rock. 

25.  It  need  not  make  us  think  that  our  soul  is  in  our  fingers,  and  so 
all  over  the  body,  because  our  feeling  seems  to  be  in  them ;  for,  if  we  hold 
a  staff  in  our  hands,  the  feeling  seems  to  be  in  the  staff,  bnt  only  we  learn 
better  by  experience. 

26.  The  cause  of  the  vast  disparity  of  heat,  in  summer  and  winter,  cannot 
be,  because  that  the  perpendicular  ray  is  at  all  more  rapid  in  its  motion^ 
than  the  oblique ;  for  there  is  no  reason  why  that  ray,  which  comee 
sideways,  should  not  fly  as  swiftly,  as  that  which  comes  right  down.  The 
one  and  the  other  are  sent  forth  from  the  Sun,  with  an  equal  degree  of  ve- 
locity ;  and  because  one  happens  to  meet  a  surface  sideways,  it  doth  not 
move  the  slower  for  it ;  nor  does  the  other  obtain  a  new  velocity,  because 
it  is  likely  to  strike  the  earth  perpendicularly.  Indeed,  the  perpendicular 
rays  make,  a  ^stronger  impression,  on  the  surface  of  the  earth,  because  it 
stands  firm  for  the  stroke ;  but  how  should  this  make  any  difference  in  the 
air  that  is  nearer.  But  the  reason  why  the  perpendicular  ray  causes  the 
greatest  heat,  is,  because  the  reflex  ray  is  more  opposite  to  the  direct, 
and  thereby  raises  a  much  hotter  war,  and  more  vehement  agitation,  of 
the  particles  of  the  air ;  for  while  some  rays  fly  one  way,  others  fly  di- 
rectly contrary,  so  the  agitation  must  needs  be  much  greater,  than  where 
the  direct  ray  and  the  reflex  ray  partly  come  into  the  same  course.  In- 
deed the  surface  of  the  Earth,  with  respect  to  its  minute  parts,  which 
reflect  the  sun-beams,  is  so  infinitely  uneven,  that  the  reflex  ray  has  equally 
all  directions  :  that  is,  the  ray  c  d  is  not  only  reflected  towards  e,  as  it 
would  be  if  the  sur-  p-     ^ 

face  of  the  Earth  *' 

were  a  looking- 
glass,  but  is  also  re- 
jected back  again 
towards  c,  and  ev- 
ery way  else  in- 
differently ;  so  that 
there  is  a  direct  op- 
position in  the  ob- 
lique ray,  as  well  as 
in  the  perpendicu- 
lar ray.  But  yet 
there  is  not  so  much 
opposition  ;  for  all 
the  reflexions  of  the 
perpendicular  ray, 
a  b,  are  in  some 
measure  opposite  to  the  direct.  They  are  all  reflected  by  less  than  a  right 
angle  ;  whereas  all  the  reflexions  of  the  oblique  ray,  c  d,  that  are  on  the 
fither  side  of  the  linefg,  perpendicular  to  e  d,  are  by  an  angle  greater  than 
a  right  angle. 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE. 


71:^ 


Another  reason  why  winter  is  so  much  cokler  than  summer,  is,  because 
the  rays  of  the  sun, when  near 
the  horizon,  travel  much  lon- 
ger in  the  Atmosphere,  than 
when  the  Sun  is  more  over 
head.  Thus  the  ray,  b  e, 
travels  much  longer  in  the 
Atmosphere  from  /to  e,  be- 
fore it  comes  to  e,  the  eye, 
than  the  ray  a  e,  from  g  to  e. 
Therefore  the  light  and  heat 
of  the  Sun  at  b,  will  be  much 
less  than  when  at  a. 

Another  reason  is,  because  the  Sun,  in  winter,  is  so  much  less  time 
above  the  horizon,  than  in  summer.  The  cold,  that  prevailed  in  the  night, 
is  not  chased  away,  by  the  short  sun-shine  of  the  next  day.  The  next 
night,  there  is  a  new  addition  of  the  cold  of  another  night,  and  every  night 
there  is  a  new  increase.  And  the  Sun  stays  too  little  a  time,  to  give  a 
check  to  this  progress. 

But  another  reason,  why  the  perpendicularity  of  the  rays  adds  to  the  heat, 
is,  because  the  rays,  that  Fig.  5. 

fall  upon  the  earth  ob- 
liquely, fall  not  near  so  e? 
thick,  as  those  that  fall 
perpendicularly :  as  it  is 
very  manifest,  that  the 
rays  e  f  fall  thicker  and 
nearer  together,  on  the 
perpendicular  surface  I  m, 
than  on  the  oblique  sur- 
face a  b.  This  makes  a 
difference,  as  to  the  heat,^ 
two  ways :  First,  because 
the  reflexion  of  rays  from  the  surface  a  &,  is  not  near  so  thick  as  from  the 
surface  /  w.,  because  there  are  not  so  many  rays,  that  fall  on  a  6,  to  be  re- 
flected. I  acknowledge  that,  notwithstanding  their  falHng  thinner,  yet 
the  reflexion  would  be  as  thick,  if  the  surface  were  a  speculum,  and  the  an- 
gle of  reflexion  were  the  same  as  that  of  incidence ;  for  it  is  manifest,  that 
the  rays  e/,  are  at  no  greater  distance  from  each  other,  after  they  are  re- 
flected towards  n,  than  they  were  when  they  struck  the  surface  /  7n :  And 
seeing  that,  by  reason  of  the  unevenness  of  the  surface,  they  are  reflected 
every  way  indifferently,  the  spissitude  of  their  reflexion  must  be  in  exact 
proportion  to  the  spissitude  of  their  incidence  :  for  it  is  manifest,  that  if  the 
rays  ef  had  been  reflected  towards  o,  they  are  reflected  much  thinner  than 
they  would  be,  if  reflected  by  the  same  angle,  from  the  surface  /  »i,  in 
proportion  as  they  fall  nearer  together  on  the  surface  /  w,  than  on  the  sur- 
face a  b.  Tt  is  also  manifest,  that  if  they  are  reflected  from  the  surface  I 
m,  towards  d,  in  the  same  angle  as  from  the  surface  a  b  towards  n,  the  re- 
flection is  then  also  thicker,  in  the  same  proportion :  Secondly,  the  rayg 
falling  thicker,  when  they  fall  perpendicularly,  makes  it  hotter,  because 
the  thick  rays  heat  the  ground  more.  The  ground  does  not  cause  heat  in 
the  incumbent  air,  only  by  reflexion  of  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  but  as  a  stone 
or  bar  of  iron,  when  it  is  hot,  heats  the  air  round  about  it ;  for  the  ground, 
that  is  heated  by  the  summer  sunbeam,  will  continue  to  cast  a  heat,  though 
the  raye  of  the  Sun  are,  for  a  »hort  time,  iHterrHpted. 


720  APPENDIX. 

27.  It  appears,  that  the  visible  particles  of  a  morning  Fog  are  not 
single  bubbles  of  water.  I  have  seen  a  frozen  fog,  a  log  of  which  these 
particles  were  all  frozen,  as  they  tioated  in  the  air,  which  were  all  liUle 
stars,  of  six  points,  like  the  particles  of  snow,  very  small,  and  were  not 
joined  together,  many  of  them  into  one  flake,  as  in  snow,  but  floated  single, 
and  at  a  little  distance  looked  every  whit  like  other  fog,  only  not  as  thick 
as  other  fog  often  is,  and  not  so  thick  as  to  hinder  the  Sun  from  shining 
bright.  It  was  evident  that  it  was  not  a  fine  snow ;  for  it  was  otherwise  a 
very  clear  morning,  and  there  was  not  a  cloud  any  where  to  be  seen  above 
the  horizon.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that,  before  they  were  frozen,  they 
were  not  single  bubbles  ;  inasmuch  as  a  single  bubble  will  not  make  one  of 
those  stars,  no  not  less  than  seven. 

28.  The  reason  why  there  are  so  many  more  frigorific  particles  towards 
the  Poles,  and  in  the  winter,  and  where  the  Sun  is  absent,  than  near  the 
Equator,  and  in  summer,  and  in  the  presence  of  the  Sun;  is,  not  because 
that  the  heat  of  the  Sun  drives  the  frigorific  particles  away  towards  the 
Poles,  for  all  that  the  rays  can  do  is  to  disturb.  They  have  not  sense,  to 
drive  them  one  way  more  than  another ;  neither  do  they  this  to  them,  be- 
cause of  an  antipathy.  But  when  the  Sun  has  great  influence,  they  are 
disturbed,  and  let  loose,  and  kept  from  settling;  but  at  the  poles  they  are 
fixed.  This  is  sutficient  to  solve  their  flying  from  under  the  Sun,  and  gath- 
ering at  the  Poles :  seeing  that  all,  or  the  most  that  come  to  the  Poles, 
there  settle  and  fix,  the  rays  of  the  Sun  not  disturbing  thom.  But,  if  all 
that  come  there  fix  there,  there  will  necessarily  be  most  of  them  gathered 
there  in  time.  And  seeing  those  that  are  under  the  Sun  are  unfixed,  and 
all  that  get,  by  any  means,  from  under  the  Sun  do  become  fixed,  it  neces- 
sarily follows,  that  all  in  time  will  get  from  under  him,  because  they  are 
continually  getting  from  under  him  by  accident,  and  those  that  get 
from  under  him  fix,  and  return  not  again. — This  therefore  is  undoubtedly 
a  reason,  why  the  Sun,  when  returning  from  the  South  Tropic,  does  no 
sooner  get  the  victory  of  the  cold  ;  because  those  frigorific  particles,  that 
were  brought  down  in  winter,  return  back  into  their  own  country  again, 
no  otherwise  than  as  they  happen  to  be  driven  by  winds. 

29.  It  ought  not  to  be  judged  that  all  the  Blood  in  the  body  goes 
through  the  heart,  in  the  same  time  that  as  much  blood,  as  there  is  in  the 
body,*goes  through  it.  The  blood,  in  the  smallest  branches  of  the  veins 
and  arteries,  cannot  move  near  so  fast,  as  in  the  greater,  for  the  same  force 
will  not  make  it  move  near  so  swiftly.  The  blood  had  need  to  be  impelled 
with  a  much  greater  force,  to  make  it  move  through  a  small  vein  as  swift 
as  through  a  great  one;  yea,  though  the  blood  be  in  proportion  to  the 
smallness  of  the  passage ;  for  it  is  the  blood's  bearing  against  the  sides  of 
the  vein,  that  stops  the  blood.  But  a  small  vein  has  nmch  more  of  sides,  in 
proportion  to  the  quantity  of  blood  that  it  contains,  than  a  great  one. 
And  then  the  blood  is  somewhat  of  a  thick  substance,  which  will  move  but 
slowly  in  a  narrow  passage.  It  is  by  these  small  veins  and  arteries,  that 
the  body  receives  nourishment.  But  the  blood  would  have  no  time,  or- 
derly and  regularly,  to  communicate  proper  nourishment  to  each  part, 
which  requires  different  aliment,  as  nothing  to  the  brain  but  what  is  suita- 
ble ;  so  that  for  the  animal  spirits  and  other  uses,  one  kind  to  the  various 
bones,  kinds  of  flesh,  marrows,  humours,  and  the  like.  If  the  blood  moved 
so  very  swiftly  in  those  pipes,  as  in  the  greater  veins,  and  one  part  of  the 
body  were  diseased,  the  disease  would  forthwith  be  communicated  to  all 
others.  We  find  when  a  person  is  bit  by  a  serpent,  if  it  be  in  a  great  vein 
it  is  immediately  communicated  to  all  parts  ;  but  if  not,  perhaps  the  quan- 
tity of  all  the  blood  in  the  body  may  go  through  the  heart  many  times,  be- 
fore the  body  in  general  feels  much  of  the  effect  of  the  poison.     If  the 


NOTES    ON    NjITRAL    SCIENCE.  721 

stream  of  blood  were  so  swift  in  every  small  vein,  the  coldness  of  our  ex- 
treme parts,  before  it  would  come  to  such  a  degree,  would  kill  the  man,  the 
shifting  of  the  cold  blood  would  be  so  quick.  Physicians  are  wont  to 
chafe  the  limbs,  before  they  let  blood  to  fill  the  veins;  thereby  causing  the 
blood,  in  the  little  veins,  to  move  swifter  in  that,  in  which  the  oritice  is 
made. 

30.  The  pleasure,  the  mind  has  by  the  Senses,  arises  immediately  from 
an  harmonious  motion  of  the  Animal  Spirits;  their  appulse  to  the  brain 
being  in  an  harmonious  order,  consisting  in  a  regular  proportion  of  time, 
distance  and  celerity.  We  know  it  is  thus  in  one  of  the  senses,  to  wit, 
Hearing ;  which  may  lead  us  to  think  that  it  is  so  in  all  the  rest,  especially 
considering  that  we  find  nothing,  that  the  mind  loves  in  things,  but  propor- 
tion. Pain  is  caused  by  a  motion  of  the  Animal  Spirits,  that  is  contrary 
hereto,  or  by  a  laceration  and  dislocation  of  the  parts  of  the  body,  which 
are  so  far  its  destruction  ;  which  the  mind  abhors,  by  reason  of  the  law  of 
union  between  soul  and  body. 

It  is  not  probable  that,  when  the  parts  of  the  body  are  touched,  the  Ani- 
mal Spirits,  that  were  in  those  parts  of  the  nerves,  go  quite  to  the  brain 
before  the  soul  perceives,  but  that  motion  is  continued  to  the  brain,  in  the 
tubes  that  contain  the  animal  spirits,  as  motion  in  a  tube  filled  with  water. 
If  the  water  atone  end  moves  never  so  little,  the  motion  is  continued  quite 
to  the  other  end ;  or  as  the  motion,  given  to  the  blood  in  the  Arteries,  by 
the  pulse  of  the  heart,  is  communicated  all  over  the  body. 

31.  To  show  how  Infinite  Knowledge,  as  well  as  Strength, is  necessary, 
either  to  give  or  to  maintain  the  proper  existence  of  one  Atom;  for  exam- 
ple, an  infinite,  minute  knowludge  of  parts,  in  order  to  termination,  figure, 
and  the  relation  of  the  parts  of  the  surface. 

THINGS  TO  BE  CONSIDERED  OR  WRITTEIN  FULLY  ABOUT. 

[second  series.] 

1.  To  prove  the  Universe,  or  Starry  World,  one  vast  Spheroid. 

2.  To  demonstrate  that  all  the  matter,  which  is  without  the  Spheroid, 
is  so  disposed,  as  that  there  should  be  an  equal  attraction  on  all  sides,  and 
so  probably  an  equal  quantity  of  matter. 

3.  To  prove  that  this  Universe  cannot  be  a  small  body,  for  instance,  as 
a  particle  of  water,  in  some  greater;  because,  if  it  were  so,  the  greater 
attraction  on  one  side  more  than  another,  would  immediately  put  all  the 
bodies  contained  in  it  out  of  order :  and  so  also  to  prove,  that  there  cannot 
be  another  Universe  within  ours. 

4.  To  know  the  shape  of  the  Spheroid  of  the  Universe,  by  observation 
of  the  Milky  Way;  and  to  know  whereabout  our  System  is  in  it;  1st.  with 
respect  to  the  plane  of  the  greatest  circles,  from  observations  of  the  ratio 
of  the  brightness  of  the  opposite  sides  compounded  with  several  other  ra- 
tios.— 2d.  With  respect  to  the  latitude,  or  the  axis  of  this  Spheroid,  by 
observing  how  much  the  Milky  Way  differs  from  a  great  circle. 

5.  To  show  that  the  Starry  World  cannot  be  infinite,  because  it  is  a 
Spheroid. 

6.  To  write  concerning  the  Z/fin*  about  the  Sun. 

7.  To  write  concerning  the  distance  of  the  Sun,  by  observation  of  the 
enlightened  part  of  the  Moon,  when  exactly  in  quadrature. 

8.  To  write  concerning  the  use  of  Comets,  to  repair  the  wastes  of  ili^ 
heavenly  bodies. 

9.  To  show  how  Infinite  Wisdom  must  be  exercised,  in  order  that 
Gravity  and  Motion  m&v  be   perfectlv  harmonious;    and  that,  although 

Vol.  I-  91' 


722  APPENDIX. 

the  jumble  of  the  Epicureans  be  allowed,  although  it  be,  in  fact,  impos- 
sible.    - 

10.  To  find  out  a  thousand  things  by  due  observation  of  the  Spheroid  of 
the  Universe. 

11.  To  show  that,  however  thin  we  suppose  the  inclosure  of  the  Sphe- 
roid of  the  whole  Universe  to  be,  if  there  be  one,  yet  if  it  be  perfectly  so- 
lid, the  most  violent  shocks  of  the  greatest  bodies  in  the  world  would  not 
be  able  to  break  it,  or  in  the  least  to  injure  it. 

12.  To  consider,  whether  or  no  some  of  the  Telescopical  Stars  be  not 
the  reflection  of  Real  Stars  from  such  an  inclosure — i.  e.  from  the  common 
inclosure  of  the  Stawy  World. 

13.  To  consider  thoroughly  the  objections  that  may  be  made,  from  more 
little  stars  appearing  in  the  Milky  Way,  than  elsewhere. 

14.  To  show  how  the  Motion,  Rest,  and  Direction  oUhe  Least  Atomhnssin 
influence  on  the  motion,  rest  and  direction  of  every  body  in  the  Universe; 
and  to  show  how,  by  that  means,  every  thing  which  happens,  with  respect 
to  motes,  or  straws  and  such  little  things,  may  be  for  some  great  uses  in  the 
w^hole  course  of  things,  throughout  Eternity;  and  to  show  how  the  least 
wrong  step  in  a  mote,  may,  in  Eternity,  subvert  the  order  of  the  Universe ; 
and  to  take  notice  of  the  great  wisdom,  that  is  necessary,  in  order  thus  to 
dispose  every  atom  at  first,  as  that  they  should  go  for  the  best,  throughout  afi 
Eternity,  and  in  the  Adjusting,  by  an  exact  computation,  and  a  nice  allow- 
ance to  be  made  for  the  miracles,  which  should  be  needful,  and  other  ways, 
whereby  the  course  of  bodies  should  be  diverted. — And  then  to  show  how 
God,  who  does  this,  must  he  necessarily  Omniscient^  and  know  every  the 
least  thing,  that  must  happen  through  Eternity. 

15.  To  show  how  that  the  Least  Atom  must  have  an  influence,  not  only 
for  the  present,  but  forever  after. 

16.  To  show  how  all  nature  consists,  in  things  being  precisely  according 
to  strict  rules  of  justice  and  harmony. 

17.  To  show  how  the  least  wrong  step,  in  the  least  atom,  happening  ever 
so  seldom,  if  it  returns  at  a  certain  period,  would  most  certainly,  through- 
out eternity,  so  returning,  totally  subvert  the  order  of  the  Universe;  or  if 
it  be  supposed,  taking  one  time  with  another,  to  be  equally  frequent,  as 
without  doubt  it  will  be,  if  there  is  any  ;  and  thence  to  show  that  there  is 
very  good  philosopical  reason  to  think,  that  the  hairs  of  our  heads  are  all 
numbered.     (Vid.  52.) 

18.  To  endeavour  to  show  how  two  atoms,  whose  surfaces  are  nearly 
adjusted  to  each  other,  may,  only  by  the  force  of  gravity,  meet  each  other 
with  incredible  celerity ; — and  to  show  how  by  that  means  heat  may  be  be- 
gotten, without  any  external  enkindling,  and  also  rays  of  light  emitted; — 
and  to  consider  what  may  arise  from  the  different  shapes  of  the  particles, 
with  respect  to  celerity,  colour,  or  otherwise. 

19.  To  show  that,  ifa  congeries  of  particles  of  matter  were  cast  together, 
which  had  their  surfaces  thus  fixed,  they  would  meet  each  other  with  such 
a  great  celerity,  and  avouM,  of  themselves,  bound  back  to  the  same  place 
with  an  equal  degree  of  celerity,  and  so  would,  of  themsedves,  continue  to 
do  forever  :  but  that  celerity  being  increased,  by  their  mutual  impulses,  and 
repulses,  and  contniual  repercussions,  until  at  length  it  had  brought  it  to 
an  immense  degree,  sufficient  to  send  tlwm  to  the  end  of  the  world,  with 
an  almost  infinite  velocity,  and  this  velocity  receive  increase  a  thousand 
ways,  by  bounding  upon  their  flat  surfaces  and  striking  one  another  in  their 
Tibound  by  round  surfaces,  etc.— To  solve  by  this  method,  the  light  and  heat 
of  the  Sun  and  stars — the  solving  the  grand  question  of  kindling  fires^ 
firing  of  powder,  etc.  enkindUng  of  mixed  liquors,  etc. — To  show,  also, 
how  it  must  necessarily  be  so,  in  a  congeries  of  particles,  if  tlie  particle* 


NOTES    ON   NATURAL    SCIBNCE.  723 

are  suitable,  and  are  so  disposed,  that  they  can  have  fair  play,  without  hind- 
rance. 

20.  To   absolutely  demonstrate  that  two  atoms,  touching  by  surfaces, 
tend  with  infinite  force  of  quantity  to  adhere  together,  on  this 
wise,  viz.  Let  the  atoms  a  6,  and  c  6,  touch  each  other  by  sur- 
fiices  at  6.     Now  I  say  that  the  atoms  a  b,  and  b  c,  tend  to  ad- 
here together,  by  an  infinite  quantity.     Let  the  atom  a  6,  be 
supposed  to  be  divided  in  the  middle  at  d,  and  the  atom  c  6,  at/^. 
Let  the  inner  half  of  each  be  again  divided  in  the  middle,  viz. 
d  6,  at  e,  and  h  6,  at  k.     Let  e  6,  also  be  divided  at/,  and  k  6,  at 
I ;  Again,  let/ 6,  be  equally  divided  at  ^,  and  /  6,  at  m ;  and  so 
on,  let  each  be  divided  ad  infinitum.     That  I  may  go  on  thus 
dividing  ad  infinitum^  is  evident,  because,  if  I  go  but  half  way 
at  a  time,  I  shall  never  come  to  the  end.     It  is  also  evident  that 
the  parts  of  the  atom  a  b,  tend  to  the  corresponding  parts  of  the 
atom  c  6,  according  to  the  squares  of  the  distance  and  the  quan- 
tity of  matter,  in  the  parts  attracting  and  attracted.     And  it  is 
again  evident,  that  the  part  d  e,  has  half  the  quantity  of  mat- 
ter of  the  part  a  d,  because  it  is  half  of  a  part  d  6,  that  is  equal 
to  it ;  and  so  hk  has  half  the  quantity  of  matter  of  ^  c.     And  it 
ishkewise  evident,  that  the  part  d  e  ia  just  as  near  again  to  the 
part^  ^,  as  the  part  a  d,  to  the  part  c  h — that  is,  all  the  corres- 
ponding parts  of  d  e,  and  h  k,  the  extremities  and  the  corres- 
ponding extremities,  the  middle  and  the  middle,  are  just  as  near 
again  to  each  other,  as  the  corresponding  parts  of  the  parts  arf, 
and  h  c,  as  any  body  may  easily  see  it  must  needs  be  :  so  that  it 
may  be  said  in  the  general,  that  the  one  two  parts,  are  as  near 
again  to  each  other,  as  the  other  two  parts ;  i.  e.  that  d  e,  is  as 
near  again  to  hk^  a.s ad  to  h  c.     And  consequently,  because  at- 
traction is  as  the  square  of  the  distance,  the  attraction  would  be 
four  times  as  strong,  if  the  quantity  of  matter  were  equal ;  but  because 
the  quantity  of  matter  of  d  e,  is  but  half  so  much,  which  we  at  present  call 
the  body  attracted,  therefore,  if  the  quantity  of  matter  of  the  attracting 
part  h  k,  were  equal,  still  the  gravity  of  the  part  d  «,  would  be  but  twice 
as  much.     But  seeing  the  quantity  of  matter  of  h  k,  the  attracting  body,  is 
also  but  half  so  much,  therefore,  the  gravity  is  but  just  equal.     So  that  v^ 
have  proved  that  the  gravity  of  d  e,  and  h  k,  towards  each  other,  is  just 
equal  to  the  gravity  of  a  d,  to  c  h.     And  after  the  same  manner  it  is  pro- 
ved that  the  gravity  of  the  remaining  parts,  e  /,  and  k  /,  is  just  equal  to  the 
gravity  of  d  e,  and  h  k,  and  consequently,  to  a  d,  and  c  h;  and  that  the 
gravity  of  e/to  k  /,  is  equal  to  that ;  and  of/^,  and  /  m,  to  that,  and  so  on ; 
And  consequently,  the  gravity  of  each  and  all  of  them  equal  to  the  gravity 
of  the  first,  and  so  of  all  the  rest  of  the  infinite  division  that  might  be  made. 
Whence  it  follows  that  the  gravity  of  the  first  part  a  </,  to  c  h,\s  an  infinite 
number  of  times  in  the  atom  a  6,  and  so  in  the  atom  c  6,  and  consequently, 
that  the  gravity  of  the  whole  put  together,  is  actually  infinite.     For  cer- 
tainly, any  small  quantity  of  attraction,  let  it  be  ever  so  small,  (if  it  be  a 
millionth,  or  a  million-millionth,)  if  it  be  an  infinite  number  of  times  repeat- 
ed, will  amount  to  an  infinite  gravity.     Wherefore,  the  atoms  a  6,  an^ 
c  6,  tend  to  each  other,  with  an  infinite  force  of  gravity,  Q.  E.  D. — N.  B. 
From  this,  again,  to  prove  our  whole  scheme. 

21.  That  the  adhesion  of  bodies  arises  from  Gravity,  proved  from  the 
adhesion  of  two  polished  marbles,  in  the  exhausted  receiver. 

22.  Solidity  is  gravity;  so  that,  in  some  sense,  the  Essence  of  bodies  is 
Gravity — and  to  show  how  the  very  bare  being  of  body,  without  suppo- 
sing harmonious  being,  necessarily  infers  Gravity,  and  to  observe  the 


d 

e 
t 

(» 

m 
7. 

k 
h 

C 

724  APPENDIX. 

folly  of  seeking"  for  a  mechanical  cause  of  Gravity.  But  to  observe  that 
this  has  as  much  a  mechanical  cause  as  any  thing  in  the  world,  and  is 
as  philosophically  to  be  solved,  and  ought  no  more  to  be  attributed  to 
the  immediate  operation  of  God,  than  every  thing  else  which  indeed  arises 
from  it ;  and  that  Gravity  is  no  way  diverse  from  a  principle,  by  which 
Matter  acts  on  Matter. 

23.  Because  it  is  universally  allowed,  that  Gravity  depends  immediately 
on  the  Divine  influence,  and  because  it  may  be  proved  that  Solidity  and 
Gravity  are  in  a  good  sense  the  same,  and  resolvable  into  each  other,  and 
because  Solidity  has  been  proved  to  be  the  very  being  oi"^  body;  therefore, 
we  may  infallibly  conclude,  that  the  very  being,  and  the  manner  of  being, 
and  the  whole,  of  bodies  depends  immediately  on  the  Divine  Being. — To 
show  how  that,  if  Gravity  should  be  withdrawn,  the  whole  Universe  would 
in  a  moment  vanish  into  nothing;  so  that  not  only  the  well-being  of  the 
jvorld  depends  on  it,  but  the  very  being. 

24.  Relative  to  the  19th.  To  show  ho  v.-  a  congeries  of  secondary  par- 
ticles, rightly  compounded,  may  do  likewise;  though  not  as  well. 

23.  Relating  to  the  2d. — Except  we  suppose  a  Revolution  ;  and  to  show 
that,  being  of  such  a  figure,  it  cannot  be,  without  causing  great  confusion  ; 
and  to  show  that,  let  the  figure  bd  what  it  may,  there  will  be  great  at- 
tractions among  the  Stars — the  same  as  the  Tides. 

26.  To  bring  in  an  observation,  somewhere  in  the  proper  place,  that — 
instead  of  Hobbe-'  notion, that  God  is  matter,  and  that  all  substance  is  matter 
— that  nothing,  that  is  matter,  can  possibly  be  God  ;  and  that  no  matter  is, 
in  the  most  proper  sense,  matter,  according  to  the  11th  Corollary,  of 
Prop.  2. 

27.  To  observe,  in  a  proper  place,  that,  since  Creation  is  the  first  caus- 
ing of  such  resistance,  and  Upholding  is  the  causing  of  it  successively;  there- 
fore the  same  person,  who  created,  upholds  and  governs;  whence  we  may 
learn  who  it  is  that  sustains  this  noble  fabrick  of  glorious  bodies — and  to 
expatiate  much  upon  it. 

28.  To  demonstrate  that  every  thing  done,  at  least,  may  depend  on  an 
infinite  number  of  causes  concurring,  or  the  alteration  of  them, — upon  an 
indefinitely  little  alteration  or  turn,  especially  in  men's  minds:  and  thence, 
in  a  proper  place,  to  show,  that  no  Finite  spirit  can  predict  such  things. 

29.  The  Definition  of  an  Atom:  Such  a  body,  whose  parts  are-no  ways 
separated  by  pores,  but  has  all  its  parts  conjoined  by  an  absolute  continui- 
ty of  matter. 

30.  Relating  to  the  Note  of  the  5th  Corollary,  Proposition  I.  Hence 
we  may  learn,  that  an  absolutely  solid  body,  may  have  as  much  vacuity, 
within  its  surface,  as  any  body  whatsoever,  that  is  not  absolutely  solid. 

31.  Remember  to  place  all  about  motion,  under  the  head  of  The  Manner 
or  Harmony  of  Existence. 

32.  To  observe  how  the  Planets  may  act  on  sublunary  things,  such  as 
plants,  animals,  bodies  of  men,  and  indirectly  upon  their  souls  too,  by  that 
infinitely  subtile  matter  diffused  all  around  them  :  which,  in  all  probability,  is 
so  subtile,  as  to  permeate  the  Air.  and  any  bodies  whatsoever,  but  more 
especially  the  Moon,  but  most  of  all,  the  Comets,  because  of  the  great 
quantity  that  is  diffused  from  them ;  and  to  show  how  it  is  probable  the  An- 
cients got  the  notion,  from  the  long  experience  of  the  Antediluvians. 

33.  Relating  to  the  19th.  Compute  how  much  Motion  there  may  be, 
in  an  inch  square  of  Gunpowder,  when  set  on  fire,  compared  with  some 
solid  body,  when  moving  straight  forward  ;  and,  from  the  prodigious  quan- 
tity of  it,  to  prove,  that  it  could  neither  take  that  motion,  from  any  cir- 
cumambient body,  nor  have  it,  in  itself,  before,  and  that  it  was  an  actual 
creation,  at  that  very  time :  and  to  show  the  only  way,  whereby  motion  ie 
cheated,  is  by  Attraction,  and  therefore  that  this  must  be  from  Attraction 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENClS  725 

34.  To  show  how,  and  by  what  laws,  a  compound  body,  of  any 
degree  of  rarity,  may  have  any  degree  of  hardness  or  inseparabili- 
ty;  and  vice  versa^  how  a  very  dense  body,  and  of  little  vacuity,  may  be, 
in  comparison  of  it,  very  soft  and  separable. 

35.  Relating  to  the  19th.  To  show  how  fiery  and  shining  (bodies)  are 
inflamed,  or  enlightened,  in  this  manner. 

36.  To  show,  if  I  think  proper,  how  Sir  Isaac  Newton  was  very  sensi 
ble,  that  all  Spontaneous  Enkindling  was  from  a  certain  species  of  attrac- 
tion. 

37.  To  show  that  it  is  not  only  highly  probable,  but  absolutely  certain, 
that  the  Fixed  Stars  are  so  many  Suns.  For  it  is  certain,  in  the  first  place, 
t'hat  they  do  shine  by  their  own  light  S  i.  e.  not  by  the  Sun's  ;  for  altho'  we 
do  not  exactly  know  how  far  distant  they  are,  yet  we  know  that  they  are  so 
far  distant,  at  least,  that  the  annual  Revolution  of  the  Earth  makes  no  sensi- 
ble alteration  in  their  position.  And  we  know  certainly,  that  the  light  of 
the  Sun,  at  such  a  distance,  will  be  no  more  than  about  so  much,  as  the- 
light  of  a  Fixed  Star  is  here.  (Let  any  body  calculate  and  see.)  And 
now  I  ask.  Whether  or  no  it  be  not  certain,  tiiat  no  body  will  reflect  the 
light  of  another  body,  which  does  not  shine  upon  it  brighter  than  a  single 
Fixed  Star  does  upon  the  Earth,  so  much  as  to  cause  it  to  shine,  with  its 
reflected  light,  so  brightly  as  the  Fixed  Stars  do,  at  such  a  distance.  And 
then,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  certain,  they  must  be  pretty  near  about  so 
big.  And  thirdly,  it  is  certain  that  they  must  shine  with  as  bright  a  light, 
or  else  they  could  never  appear  so  bright  at  such  a  distance.  This  we  may 
also  be  certain  of,  by  calculation.  Which  three  things  are  all  that  are 
needed  to  make  a  Sun. 

Coroll.  1.  from  the  foregoing  :  That  our  Sun  is  a  Fixed  Star,  is  as  cer- 
tain, as  that  any  one  particular  Star  in  the  heavens  is  one. 

Coroll,  2.  It  is  as  probable  that  the  other  Fixed  Stars,  or  Suns,  have 
Systems  of  planets  about  them,  as  it  would  be  that  ours  had,  to  one  who 
had  seen  a  Fixed  Star,  or  Sun,  every  way  hke  it,  have  them. 

38.  To  bring  in,  if  there  happens  a  good  place  for  it,  that  it  is  equally 
probable,  in  itself,  that  all,  or  the  greater  part,  of  the  Universe  was  crea- 
ted at  the  time  of  the  Mosaic  Creation  ;  as  that  all,  or  the  greatest  part,  of 
the  Universe  was  created  at  once,  at  any  other  time. 

39.  Relating  to  the  18th.  To  show  that  the  motion  will  be  made  by 
rebounding,  if  the  particles  are  elastic;  and  how  that  motion  will  be  other- 
wise begotten,  if  they  be  not  elastic,  but  perfectly  hard. 

40.  To  observe  that,  for  aught  we  know,  the  most  dense  bodies  we  are 
acquainted  with,  do  not  take  up'about  the  10,000,000.000th  part  of  the  space 
they  are  in;  if  there  shall  be  need  of  taking  notice  of  it. 

41.  Relating  to  the  I4th.  To  instance,  how  all  and  every  of  the  parti- 
cles, here  u})on  the  Earth,  do  follow  a  particular  particle,  in  the  atmos- 
phere of  a  planet,  of  a  Fixed  Star,  etc. 

42.  To  observe  about  all  the  mountains  being  pitched  over  to  the  west- 
ward. 

43.  To  observe  about  all  stones  being  broken  pieces  of  stones. 

44.  To  observe  that,  if  bodies  have  no  substance  of  their  own,  so  nei- 
ther is  solidity,  strictly  speaking,  a  property  belonging  to  body,  and  to 
show  how.  And  if  solidity  is  not  so,  neither  are  the  other  properties  of 
body,  which  depend  upon  it,  and  are  only  modifications  of  it;  so  that  there 
is  neither  real  substance,  nor  property,  belonging  to  bodies ;  but  all  that  is 
real  is  immediately  in  the  First  Being. 

Coroll.  1.  Hence,  see  how  God  is  said,  still  more  properly,  to  be  Ens  en- 
tium,  or,  if  there  was  nothing  else  in  the  world  but  bodies,  the  only  Real 
Thing,  so  that  it  may  be  said,  in  a  stricter  sense  than  hitherto,"  Thou  an, 
and  there  is  none  beside  thee." 


i2^  APPENDIX. 

Corolh  2.  Hence  see,  that,  instead  of  Matter  being  the  only  propej 
substance,  and  more  substantial  than  any  thing  else,  because  it  is  hard  and 
solid;  yet,  it  is  truly  nothing  at  all,  strictly  and  in  itself  considered. 

Coroll.  3.  The  nearer  in  nature  beings  are  to  God,  so  much  the  more 
properly  are  they  beings,  and  more  substantial.  And  that  Spirits  are 
much  niore  properly  beings,  and  more  substantial,  than  bodies. 

45.  To  observe,  it  is  somewhat  difficult  to  know,  how  it  comes  to  pass, 
that  there  are,  in  all  Continents,  however  uneven  and  confused,  hilly  and 
jumbled,  though  they  seem  to  have  mountains  and  valUes,  indifferently, 
and  undesignedly,  every  where  dispersed;  yet,  that  there  are  such  con- 
venient Channels,  whereby  water  may  be  conveyed  from  the  middle  of  the 
Contments,  and  from  all  parts,  into  the  Ocean.     The  reason  is,  when  the 
world  was  first  created,  the  water  covering  all  the  earth,  the  surface  of 
the  earth  must  needs  be  very  soft,  and  loose,  and  easily  worn  or  altered, 
by  the  motions  of  the  water;  and  afterwards,  the  water,  retiring  in  such  a 
vast  body,  into  one  place,  from  off  the  continents,  and  some  places  of  the 
(continents)  being  higher,  and  others  lower,  some  were  easily  worn,  others 
more  difficult ;  in  some  places,  the  waters  moving  with  more  force,  in 
others  with  less,  some  places  would  necessarily  be  worn  deeper  than 
others,  from  the  middle  of  the  continent  to  the  ocean :  and  as  the  water 
decreased,  as  going  off  from  the  earth,  all  would  retire  into  those  chan- 
nels ;  and,  the  water  still  decreasing,  the  remainder  would  run  in  the  deep- 
er places  of  these  channels ;  and  after  they  [the  waters]  were  gone,  they 
left  channels  every  where;  into  which,  the  waters  afterwards  gushing  out, 
in  various  parts  of  the  continent,  would  naturally  find  their  way.     Thus, 
also,  after  the  Deluge,  when  the  surface  of  the  earth  was  again  loosened. 
By  this  means  it  comes  to  pass,  that,  generally,  our  large  rivers  have 
champaign  countries,  without  stones,  on  each  side  of  them,  before  we 
come  to  the  ridges  of  mountains,  that  commonly  run  parallel  ^to  them^ 
at  some  distance,  on  each  side ;  and  yet,  nearer  the  river  still,  there  are 
meadows  on  each  side,  lower  than  the  plain;  and  last  of  all,  the  channel 
itself,  as  in  Connecticut  River,  because  the  water,  when  it  first  began  to 
rfeflow  from  the  land,  it  moved  in  vast  quantities,  enough  to  fill  the  whole 
space  between  the  parallel  mountains;  so  that  the  reason,  why  the  coun- 
try is  so  plain,  is,  because  it  was  all  once  the  bottom  of  a  river;  but  after- 
wards, the  water  decreasing,  was  confined  to  a  narrower  compass,  and 
wore  the  meadows  out.     At  la?t,  still  narrowing,  it  was  confined  to  the 
space  between  the  banks.     But  there  being  still  a  remainder,  in  the  cham- 
paign, and  country  between  the  greater  channels,  this,  flowing  off  by  de- 
crees, into  them,  wore  the  lesser  channels,  for  our  little  rivers. 

46.  The  reason  of  the  different  Refrangibility  of  Rays,  must  be,  either 
the  different  Figure,  or  Magnitude,  or  Hardness,  or  Internal  Texture,  or 
Density,  of  the  Rays.  There  can  be  no  other  differences,  between  one 
ray  and  another,  except  the  diflerence  be  some  of  these. — Now,  first,  it 
cannot  be  the  different  Figure,  that  causes  the  different  Refrangibility. 
This  would  not  cause  some  rays  to  be  more  attracted  towards  the  edge  of 
bodies ;  for  all  bodies,  equal  in  other  respects,  are  equally  attracted,  let 
them  be  of  what  figure  so  ever;  nor  will  this  serve  to  explain,  how  some 
are  more  easily  reflected,  than  others.  Different  Magnitude  is  alike  in- 
sufficient for  these  purposes.  Different  Hardness  can  cause  no  difference 
in  the  Attractibility.  The  Internal  Textiire  can  make  no  manner  of  dif- 
ference, either  in  refraction  or  reflection.  If  the  Quantity  of  Matter,  and 
the  Surface,  be  the  same,  the  different  Swiftness  of  Motion  cannot  be  the 
reason.  Wherefore,  there  remains  nothing  more,  that  can  be  the  cause, 
but  the  different  Density — the  different  Quantity  of  Matter  in  the  rays,  in 
the  same  room.    Then  we  will  suppose  there  to  be  a  great  deal  of  differ- 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE. 


121^ 


ence,  between  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  in  this  respect — some  more  dense,  and 
acme  more  rare,  as  in  all  other  bodies.  Now^  there  will  be  this  other  dif- 
ference, arising  from  this,  viz.  th^i  the  densest  rays  will  come  from  the 
Sun,  with  the  most  rapid  motion ;  not  because  thoy  are  less  obstructed,  by 
the  medium  they  so  through,  but  because,  as  every  body  may  see,  their 
mutual  repercussions  in  the  Sun,  before  they  leap  out  into  the  vast  cir- 
eumambient  expanse,  will  be  much  more  violent,  because  of  l heir  greater 
gravity,  which  we  have  shown  to  be  the  reason  of  these  repercussions. — 
Now,  in  the  first  place,  we  have  no  reason  to  think,  but  that  there  is  a  dif- 
ference in  the  Density  of  the  Rays  of  the  Sun;  and,  if  so,  we  are  certain, 
that  that  will  cause  a  difference  in  the  Rapidity  of  their  Motion ;  and 
therefore,  certainly  would  cause  a  difference  in  their  Refrnn nihility ;  for 
it  is  certain,  that  those  rays,  that  move  swiftly  by  a  body,  will  be  attracted 
least  by  it,  and  those  that  move  slowest  by  it,  will  be  attracted  most. 
This  will,  also,  certainly  cause  a  difference  in  the  Reflexibility  of  Rays; 
for  those  rays,  that  strike  on  a  body  with  greatest  force,  will  be  most  di- 
ficuUly  reflected,  and  those  that  strike  wilh  least  force  will  be  reflected 
most  easily  :  those,  that  strike  it  most  forcibly,  are  most  likely  to  make 
their  way  forward  without  reflection  ;  and  those  bodies,  that  are  most 
likely  to  stand  a  stroke  of  the  weaker  rays,  so  as  to  reflect  them,  will  give 
way  to  the  stronger  rays.  Now,  whether  this  difference  in  the  density  of 
the  rays  be  the  reason  of  the  different  Refrangibility  or  no  ;  I  think  we 
may  be  sure  of  this,  that,  if  the  true  reason  were  removed,  and  there 
should  be  a  difference  in  the  Density  of  Rays,  this  would  certainly  be  a 
new  reason  of  difference  in  the  Refrangibility.  • 

It  may  be  objected  to  this,  that  there  ie  an  infinite  variety  in  the  density 
of  bodies,  and  so  doubtless  of  rays,  and  at  that  rate  there  would  be  an  infi- 
nite variety  of  simple  Colours. — I  answer.  And  so  there  is;  and  multitudes 
have  been  distinguished,  and  more  might  be,  if  we  had  instruments  and 
senses  sufliciently  accurate.  The  progression,  there  is  from  the  highest  to 
the  lowest  colours,  is  through  an  infinite  variety.  But  the  reason,  why 
there  are  n»  colours  below  Blue,  is,  because  if  there  are  any  rays,  rarer 
than  the  blue,  they,  are  so  weak,  that  they  degenerate  into  shade,  and  are 
undistinguishable  from  darkness,  and  because  they  have  not  gravity 
enough  to  beget  a  motion  in  them,  suflicient  to  cause  them  to  leap  out,  at 
such  a  distance. 

This  explication  very  well  agrees  with  experience.  Red  is  the  highest, 
strongest,  harshest  colour,  because  it  is  caused  by  the  densest  and  most  ra- 
pid rays ;  blue,  more  gentle  and  weak.  Red  gives  the  most  light,  because 
the  rays  have  more  of  vivacity,  and  more  strongly  affect  the  organ  ;  blue, 
the  nearest  approaching  to  darkness.  Red,  long  beheld,  is  painful  to  the 
eyes ;  green  and  blue  are  pleasing,  easy,  gentle,  inoffensive  and  healthful 
to  the  organ.  Blue  is  so  weak  a  colour,  the  rays  are  so  weak,  that  they 
are  reflected  from  the  weakest  bodies,  such  as  air,  and  their  exhalations, 
as  in  the  blueness  of  the  skies;  which  are  so  weak,  that  they  let  througk 
the stronger  rays;  though  sometimes  at  sunsetting,  when  the  air  is  dense- 
all  the  rest  of  the  rays  are  stopped  but  the  Red,  which  fight  their  way 
through  all  the  exhalations  the  air  is  full  of,  and  then  the  Sun  looks  as  red 
as  blood. 

Corollary.  Because  there  is  such  a  difference  in  the  Density  of  the 
rays  of  light,  it  appears  that  the  Atoms,  of  which  the  rays  of  light  are  com- 
posed, are  immensely  less,  than  the  rays  themselves. 

47.  Since,  as  has  been  shown,  body  is  nothing  but  an  infinite  resistance, 

in  some  parts  of  space,  caused  by  the  immediate  exercise  of  Divine  power; 

it  follows,  that  as  great  and  as  wonderful  power  is  every  moment  exerted 

«ia  tlw?  upholding  of  the  world,  as  at  first  was  exerted  in  its  rfetttion  •  the  firs!. 


728  APPENDIX. 

creation  being  only  tlie  first  exertion  of  this  power,  to  cause  sucii  resist- 
ance, and  the  preservation,  only  the  continuation  or  the  repetition  of  thi& 
power,  every  moment  to  cause  this  rey\stance :  so  that  the  Universe  is  cre- 
ated out  of  nothing  every  moment.  And,  if  it  were  not  for  our  imagina- 
tions, which  hinder  us,  vve  might  see  that  wonderful  work  performed  con- 
tinually, which  was  seen  by  the  morning  stars,  when  they  sang  together. 
43.  There  is  that,  which  is  peculiarly  wonderful  in  Trees,  beyond  any 
thing  that  is  to  he  found  in  the  inanimate  world,  even  the  manner  of  their 
grovvmg  from  the  seed.  Their  amazing  diversification  into  such  curious 
branches,  leaves,  flowers,  fruits,  and  seeds;  and  so  successively  from  one 
seed  after  another,  in  the  same  manner,  from  age  to  age,  forever. 

The  discovery  of  the  little  tree  in  the  seed,  has  opened  a  door  for  finding 
out  these  wonders ;  butj  without  that,  we  might  have  known  that  the  parts 
of  the  tree  are  in  miniature,  before  they  are  in  perfection ;  for  the  bud, 
which  is  but  another  sort  of  seed,  is  nothmg  but  the  leaves,  twigs,  flowers 
and  fruits,  folded  up  together,  whieh  we  see  by  degrees  unfold  themselves. 
But  the  trees  being  in  embryo  in  the  seed,  does  not  seem  to  solve  the 
difficulty,  for  the  tree  most  certainly  does  not  keep  to  its  rule,  does  not  ex- 
actly f:tllow  its  copy  in  the  seed ;  for  we  may  make  the  tree  grow  almost  as 
we  please.  If  we  iop  the  tree,  there  will  peep  out  new  branches  from  the 
body  of  the  tree,  where  there  was  no  sign  of  a  branch.  But  if  the  branches 
of  the  tree  did  really  grow  exactly  in  the  same  form  as  their  pattern  in  the 
seed,  this  might  indeed  solve  for  the  growing  of  one  tree,  but  not  for  that 
infinite  succession,  and  endless  otfspring,  of  trees,  that  may  proceed  from  it; 
except  we  suppose  that,in "one  seed,  are  actually  contained  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  trees  and  seeds,  one  within  another  ;  for  this  makes  actually  an  infi- 
nite number  of  trees  twice  over,  in  the  same  seed :  first,  an  infinite  number 
of  successions  of  one  tree,  less  than  another,  and  by  that  time  we  come  to 
the  least,  (we  must  be  allowed  to  speak  contradictions  here,)  the  offspring 
will  be  so  numerous,  that  there  will  be  actually  an  infinite  number  of  trees 
of  the  same  size  and  standing.  Wherefore  this  matter  of  the  Growth  of 
Trees  still  remains  very  difficult. 

The  reason  of  it  would  not  be  altogether  so  difficult  and  perplexing,  if 
they  always  grew  iji  the  same  regular  order.  We  do  not  despair  of  find- 
ing out  the  reason  of  that,  which  always  happens  alike,  and  in  the  same 
order.  Thus,  when  we  have  reduced  the  motion  of  the  Planets  to  arulcj 
we  have  got  above  half  way  towards  giving  the  reason  of  their  motions. 
But  the  Branches  of  Trees  seem  not  capable  of  being  reduced  to  any  rule 
at  all;  but  there  is  an  infinite  variety — one  branch  grows  out  here,  and 
another  there,  without  any  order. 

But  we  shall  be  helped  in  this  matter,  if  we  consider,  that  all  trees  and 
plants,  universally,  when  they  first  sprout  out  of  the  ground,  while  there 
is,  as  yet,  but  one  twig,  are  exactly  regular ;  that  is,  having  the  buds 
which  grow  out  of  them,  which  are  branches  in  miniature,  standing  in  a 
regular  and  uniform  manner — a  leaf  always  growing  under  the  bud;  In 
some,  two  come  out  together,  one  right  opposite  to  the  other,  alvvay» 
standing  transverse  to  the  last  two,  as  in  the  twig,  A  B,  in  the  maple  tree ; 
In  others,  but  one  at  a  time,  standing  at  regular  distances,  on  different 
sides,  in  such  order  as  to  stand  round  the  twig,  in  the  form  of  a  screw,  so 
that  the  branches  shall  stand  out  on  every  side,  as  in  the  twig,  C  D,  in  the 
apple,  the  pear,  the  cherry,  etc. ;  in  others,  having  two  together,  growing 
out  of  opposite  sides,  but  not  standing  transverse,  like  the  maples,  as  in  the 
twig  E  F ;  In  others,  having  four  or  five  standing  round  the  twig  together, 
as  in  G  G  ;  In  others,  having  but  one  at  a  time,  standing  always  opposite 
to  each  other,  as  in  I  K ;  and  innumerable  other  ways,  but  yt  always 
regular.     And  as  the  first  sprouts  of  the  tree  are  always  regular,  so  w» 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE. 


m 


all  the  young  sprouts  ofthe  tree  afterwards,  when  the  tree  comes  to  be  divi- 
ded into  many  branches ;  yea,  always  as  long  as  the  tree  lives,  all  the  twigs, 
4hat  are  of  that  years  growth,  are  regular.  So  that  it  follows,  that  the  body, 


\ 

\ 

\ 


/ 
/ 


Or 


\ 

\ 
N 


/ 
/ 


the  main  branches,  and  the  little  twigs,  and  every  part,  of  every  trea  iu 
the  world,  in  their  first  beginnings,  were  regular.  So  that,  if  all  the  trees 
had  continued  as  they  were,  in  the  year  that  they  grew ;  the  whole  tree, 
with  all  the  branches,  small  and  great,  would  be  regular.  And  now  we 
are  sure  that,  if  the  sap  did  not  flow,  more  easily,  into  one  bud  or  branch 
than  another,  or,  if  one  were  not  otherwise  advantaged  above  another,  if 
all  the  buds  and  branches  had,  in  all  respects,  equal  advantages  for  grow- 
ing ;  the  tree  would  be  most  exactly  regular.  It  follows  clearly,  and  cer- 
tainly ;  for,  if  the  common  trunk,  A  B,  when  it  first  grew,  was  regular,  and 
the  branches,  ^,  m,  w,  o,  at  first  were  regular,  and  the  branches  of  the 
branches,  as  r  s,  were  also  regular,  and  so  on ;  it  is  certain,  if  all  these 
branches  continued  as  they  were  at  first,  and  every  bud  or  branch  expand- 
ed itself  alike,  that  the  whole  tree,  A  B,  will  always  continue  to  grow  reg- 
ularly. Thus  far  we  are  clear,  that  the  miniatures  of  all  plants  are  regu- 
lar, and  that  there  is  no  provision  made,  in  the  seeds  and  bud.  for  any  but 
a  regular  growth,  and  that,  if  it  were  not  for  some  accidental  causes  that 
promoted  or  hindered  the  growth  of  one  ofthe  branches  or  buds,  n  o,  more 
than  another,  that  all  the  tree,  in  the  end,  would  be  regular. 

We  need  not  perplex  ourselves  to  find  out,  what  should  give  one  ^ 
greater  advantage  of  growth  than  another.  The  least  thing  in  the  ^orld 
may  be  sufficient,  when  they  are  so  small  and  tender :  ten  thousand  thmgs 
might  be  thought  of. 

Many  plants  do  actually  always  continue  to  grow  regular ;  as  most 
herbs  and  weeds,  that  are  but  of  one  year's  growth,  and  come  trees ;  and, 
of  those  that  err  from  their  seminal  pattern,  some  keep  nearer  to  it  than 
others. 

We  therefore  conclude,  that  the  first  trees,  that  ever  were,  were  regu- 
lar trees,  or  at  least  regular  parts  of  trees,  so  contrived,  with  vessels, 
pipes  and  valves,  that,  as  it  receives  more  sap,  it  continually  desires  to 
shoot  forth  towards  B.  And  infinite  wisdom  so  contrived  the  curious 
workmanship  ofthe  inlets,  receptacles,  passages  and  outlets,  from  A  lo  B, 
that  that  which  is,  by  degrees,  added  at  B,  by  the  gentle  motion  of  the 
sap,  from  A  to  B,  through  the  pipes,  shall  be  cast  into  the  same  form,  and 
shall  come  out  in  the  same  fashion,  as  if  it  were  cast  into  a  mould.  It  i? 
Vol.  I.  92 


73© 


APPENDIX. 


als^o  so  contrived,  that,  as  it  continues  to  proceed  towards  B.  the  course  of 
some  ot  the  passages  shall  be  directed  so,  as  to  cause  it  to  shoot  forth  on 
the  side  at  /i,  and  at  every  such  regular  distance,  just  as  the  engineer  con- 
trives his  clock  to  strike  at  vniiorm  distanceb,  and  the  sap  proceeds  for- 
wards in  the  branch,  71  o,  in  th<^.  same  manner  as  it  did  in  the  trunk  A  B; 
and  in  like  manner  breaks  out  at  the  ^^ies,  at  regular  distances  from  r  to  *, 
and  then  branches  tbrth,  in  like  manner,  at  the  sides  of  r  *,  and  so  on,  in 
innnitum,  to  the  worlds  end.  And  she  trees,  that  grow  now,  are  nothing 
but  the  branches  of  those  first  trees  ;  which,  although  the  communicatioa 
wi[h  the  original  branch  has  ceased,  yet  slill  continue  to  grow  and  to  be  di- 
versified into  more  branches,  in  the  same  regular  and  uniform  method,  in 
infinitum  :  and  the  seeds,  from  whence  our  trees  proceed,  are  no  new  plants, 
but  branches  of  the  old,  a  continuation  of  the  same  plant,  in  its  infinite 
regular  progress — branches  not  yel  expanded.  The  trees,  or  seeds,  or 
whatever  they  were,  that  God  first  created,  were  only  the  beginning  of 
this  progress,  enough  to  set  it  a  going.  »So  it  is  contrived,  that,  at  such 
due  and  uniform  distances,  these  little  continuations  of  the  branches  of  the 
tree,  while  they  are  very  tender,  shall  be  wrapped  in  the  curious  covering- 
and  shelter  of  leaves,  flowers  and  fruits,  and  some  only  of  leaves  and  flow- 
ers, and  shall  drop  off;  so  tiiat  when  the  seed  drops  off,  it  is  only  the  regu- 
lar confuiaation  of  these  branches.  And  as  it  drops  into  the  ground, 
though  the  continuation  is  uninterrupted,  yet,  receiving  sap  from  the 
ground,  it  will  not  cease  to  grow:  which  is  no  morestrange,  than  that  the 
branch  of  an  apple-tree,  if  cut  off  and  cast  into  the  ground,  will  coutinne 
to  grow. 

The  leaves  are  still  nothing  but  branches  of  the  tree,  that  grow  not  so 
big,  and  so  contrived  as  to  cleave  together  a  ter  such  a  manner.  So  like- 
wise is  the  flowar,  and  the  fruit  too  is  a  compages  of  brandies,  yet  other- 
wise modelled.  There  is  nothing  belonging  to  a  tree  but  branches;  and 
all.  that  the  first  trees,  v/hich  God  create.!,  liad  to  do,  was  to  proceed  to 
the  end  of  the  world,  in  such  regular  branches,  having  various  stated  pe- 
riods, at  the  same  stated  distances:  at  v^hich  periods,  there  happen  re- 
markable changes,  and  unusual  phenomena,  among  the  branches,  as  there 
muy  oe  various  periods  in  an  engine  of  human  contrivance  :  some  return- 
ing every  second,  every  minute,  every  quarrer  of  an  hour,  hour,  day,  month 
and  year. — .\s,  for  the  leaves,  flowers  and  fruits,  they  are  not  to  be  looked 
upon  as  a  continuation  of  these  regular  branches,  but  as  part  of  the  sub- 
stance of  the  trunk  1  o  which  they  grow. 

Tnere  is  but  ht-re  and  there  one  of  these  buds,  that  grow  thus  regular- 
ly and  expand  themselves.  Perhaps  some  die,  most  of  them  conhnue  in 
their  littleness  and  imperfect  state ;  the  sap  not  running  plcntifrdly  enough 
into  them,  having  more  free  passage  elsewhere,  or  being  by  some  means 
diverted  ;  and  so,  the  part  growing  biggpr.  they  are  at  last  covered  in  it, 
and  lie  latent,  until  by  some  means  the  passage  of  the  sap  elsewhere  is 
stopped,  as  by  lopping  of  the  tree,  or  otherwise;  and  then  the  sap.  flowing 
more  plentifully  into  them,  causes  them  to  spring  torth,  and  make  their 
way  out  of  the  bark.  It  may  lie,  like  a  seed  in  the  tree,  for  many  years, 
and,  upon  such  an  occasion,  spring  tbrth.  Hence  it  is,  that  those  little 
twigs,  how  small  soever,  though  but  of  one  years  growth,  that  grow  out 
of  great  tree?-,  yet  always  h^ve  their  beginning  and  rise  close  by  the  very 
heart  of  the  tree;  because  all  the  rest  that  is  above  it  has  grown  and  been 
added,  since  the  tree  was-  so  ?mall  as  to  bear  beds  at  that  place.  We  had 
as  good  think  that  trees  grow  out  of  the  ground,  without  seeds,  as  that 
branches  grow  out  of  the  trunk  without  buds  ;  for  the  bwds  are  but  another 
sort,  of  seeds,  that  cleave  to  the  tree,  and  the  seeds  are  but  another  sort  of 
bui:-.  that  drop  into  the  grfjund. 

49.  { Vid.  14.)  h\  order  to  this,  it  is  not  only  necessary  that  God  should 


NOTES    ON   NATURAL    SCIENCE.  731 

tell  the  number  of  the  stars,  and  know  the  exact  bigness,  weight,  density, 
nvimber,  and  distance,  of  those  great  bodies  or  the  Universe;  nut  only  that 
he  snould  weigh  the  mountains  in  exact  scales,  ana  the  hills  in  p-jriectly 
even  balances,  and  measure  the  seas  as  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand ,  but  he 
must  comprehend  the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure.  He  must 
measure  the  dusr.  of  the  earth  in  all  these  respects — he  must  know 
the  exact  number  of  the  particles  of  dust,  the  exact  dimensions  and 
weight  of  every  atom,  the  exact  distance  of  every  one,  yea,  of  every  part 
of  every  one,  from  every  other,  yea,  from  every  part  of  all  others  in  the 
universe.  Thus,  Infinite  Wisdom  is  as  much  concerned,  not  only  in  the 
excellent  Arrangement  of  the  world,  but  in  the  simple  Creation  of  it,  as 
Infinite  Power.  Yea,  one  single  atom  cannot  have  a  being  without  it ; 
one  single  atom  could  not  move  without  it,  inasmuch  as  we  have  shown, 
that  motion  cannot  be  without  Infinite  Wisdom  ;  and  again,  that  no  body 
could  have  being,  without  motion,  any  otherwise,  than  as  the  world  had  a 
being  from  all  eternity. 

50.  The  only  way  that  the  soul  can  influence  the  body  is  by  the  emit- 
ting of  animal  spirits  from  the  brain;  and  when  the  soul  retracts  animal 
spirits  from  some  part,  it  is  by  emission  in  others.  This  emission  is  either 
natural,  which  follows  merely  from  the  presence  of  the  soul  in  the  brain  ; 
or  voluntary,  that  which  follows  of  itself,  from  thoughts  and  passions.  And 
the  only  way  that  the  body  has  influence  upon  the  soul,  is  by  the  influx  of 
animal  spirits  to  the  brain,  or  efflux  from  it. 

31  When  I  come  to  speak  of  the  Body  of  Man,  let  a  demonstration 
of  the  Soul,  being  distinct  from  matter,  be  inserted. 

52.  (Vid.  17.)  That  is,  the  least  wrong  step,  would  thus  disorder  all 
things,  and  quite  overthrow  the  Universe,  except  God,  irom  time  to  time, 
set  the  whole  Universe  a  going  anew;  which  would  be  necessary,  because 
the  least  wrong  turn  in  one  atom  causes  a  wrong  motion  in  every  atom  in 
the  Universe;  and  this  also,  returning  at  the  end  of  some  given  period,  or 
continuing  at  intervals  of  time,  longer  or  shorter,  equal  or  unequal,  would 
at  length  overthrow  the  Universe. 

53.  I  believe  all  Fluidity  arises  from  Repulsion. 

54.  If  the  Fixed  Stars  moved  round  the  Earth  in  twenty-four  hours, 
none  of  them  would  be  seen  here  upon  the  earth;  none  of  their  rays  would 
ever  reach  the  Earth :  For  although  it  cannot  be  demonstrated  how  far 
distant  they  are  from  us,  yet  they  must  needs  be  so  far  distant,  that 
such  a  motion  would  be  at  least  ten  times  so  swift  as  the  motion  of  the 
rays  of  light.  According  to  the  ordinary  computation  of  their  distance, 
it  wotdd  be  several  thousand  times  swifter.  But  we  will  suppose  it  to  be 
ten  times.   Where-  .-,  o 

fore,  I  say,  that  if  E— :?»;^;;^ss=^.*=.™^^^^    .."VV 

the  motion  of  the  .-■•'"    y^"^'  i  '****'^^ 

Star    at    S,    round  /'   ^  Jt* 


th-.  Earth  T,  be  ten 
times  so  swift  as  the 
motion  of  the  bodies 
emitted  on  all  sides, 
from  the  body  S, 
none  of  those  emit- 
ted bodies  wfll  ever 
reach  the  body  T. 
In  such  cases,  it  is 
evident,  that  bo- 
dies so  emitted, 
would  have  a  two- 
foll  mo^ion ;  viz. 
a  moti  n  whereby 
they    are    quitted 


O 

/ 


702  APPENDIX. 

from  S,  and  also  the  mol  ion  which  they  receive  with  the  body,  while  tJief 
are  with  it.  Thus  the  ray  R,  emitted  from  S  towards  T,  would  beside* 
have  a  motion  towards  W  ;  w  hich  it  had  while  it  was  in  the  body,  equal 
to  the  motion  of  the  body  S,  and  whicli  it  don't  lose  when  emitted. 
Wheretbre  it  is  manifest,  that  the  motion  of  R  towards  W,  will  be  ten 
times  so  swift  as  its  motion  towards  T :  so  that  by  the  time  it  has  got  the 
distance  from  S  to  T,  in  the  direction  S  T,  it  is  manifest  it  will  have  got 
ten  times  as  far  towards  W,  or  in  that  direction :  so  that  it  ir,  most  mani- 
fest, that  it  would  never  reach  T.  And  even  the  ray  B,  that  is  sent  out 
right  behind  the  star  S,  moves  nine  times  as  swiftly  towads  W,  as  towards 
E.  So  that  it  is  evident,  that  all  the  rays  that  can  be  emitted  from  the 
star  S,  move  at  least  nine  times  so  swiftly  towards  W,  as  they  gain  to- 
wards the  Earth.  It  is  therefore  evident,  that  they  all  will  fall  on  that 
side  of  the  Earth,  that  is  towards  W.  We  will  take  one  instance  more. 
Let  the  emis.^^ion  of  the  ray  O,  be  towards  O,  Jt  is  evident,  that  this  ray 
wull  never  gain  one  inch  towards  E,  or  the  East,  being  carried  at  least 
nine  times  so  swiitly  towards  W,  or  the  W  est,  the  contrary  point :  Because, 
being  carried  at  least  nine  times  so  swiftly  towards  W,  by  that  time  it  is 
got  halfway  of  the  distance  in  that  direction,  it  will  have  got  nine  times 
as  far  to  the  West,  and  therefore  will  miss  the  globe  of  the  Earth. 

55. — Proposition.  The  Cohesion  of  bodies,  or  the  parts  of  bodies,  to 
one  another,  can  be  from  nothing  else  but  their  tendency,  or  gravity,  one 
to  another.  So  that  ail  cohesion  in  the  world,  arises  from  this.  This  is 
the  only  reason,  why  every  the  least  part  of  all  bodies  do  not  move  proper- 
ly at  liberty,  without  any  respect  one  to  another.  For  instance,  the  only 
reason  of  the  cohesion  of  the  bodies,  or  the  parts  of 
bodies  a  6,  must  be  from  their  tending,  or  gravitating,  c 
to  each  other :  for  it  must  be,  either  because  they 


d 


tend  to  each  other,  or  because  the  parts  of  the  body  a,  next  to  ?;,  are  linked 
and  fastened  in,  amongst  the  parts  of  the  body  6.  I  can  think  of  no  medi- 
um. Neither  is  the  second  another  case  different  from  the  first ;  for  the 
question  is.  Why  all  the  corporeal  parts  below  the  plane  c  d.  cleave  to  any 
oi  the  parts  above  that  plane  ?  Let  some  of  the  corporeal  parts  be  parti- 
cle*^,  conceived  as  coming  out  of  the  body  o,  and  linked  and  locked  into  ihe 
parts  of  the  body  6,  or  no.  It  is  all  one.  as  it  tliey  are  conceived  as  only 
parts  of  the  body  t>,  only  cleaving  to  the  body  a.  It  is  evident,  therefore, 
that  this  is  not  the  reason :  therefore  the  other  is. — N.  B.  When  bodies 
are  press'd  together  by  circumambient  bodies,  the  proposition  does  not  re- 
gard that  as  cohesion. 

5»).  Theparts  which  constitute  the  Atmosphere,  are  two-fold.  (1.)  The 
parts  of  the  Ether,  drawn  and  pressed  together  by  gravity  to  the  Earth  : 
which  is  nothing  but  exceedingly  minute,  subtil,  active  particles,  which 
parts  are  the  most  penetrating.  Now  it  is  certain  if  there  be  any  Etherial 
Matter  at  all,  however  little,  this  is  one  part  of  the  atmosphere.  For,  if 
there  be  any,  that  which  is  round  about  the  Earth,  or  any  other  celes 
tial  body,  will  bo  very  much  condensed  and  pressed  together,  by  its 
tendency  to  such  body.  So  that  although  it  be  almost  infinitely  rare,  at  the 
distance  of  four  or  five  diameters  of  the  Earth;  yet  it  will,  according  to 
the  laws  of  gravity,  be  thick  enough  at  the  surface  of  the  Earth,  so  that 
there  are  no  proper  bounds  to  this  part  of  the  Atmosphere,  inasmuch  as  it 
is  no* hing  but  the  Ether  pressed  together,  according  as  it  is  nearer  or  far- 
ther from  the  centre  of  the  Earth.  It  is  in  vain  therefore  to  pretend  to 
setting  bounds  to  the  Atmosphere.  (2.)  Another  part  are  the  vapours  and 
exhalations  which  ascend  from  the  globe — parts  of  liquids  rarified,  so  as 
to  ascend  from  the  Earth,  by  means  of  the  gravity  of  the  rest  of  the  Atmos- 
phere.    These  vapours  are  wholly  constituted  of  small  bubbles,  as  is  now 


>?OTES    ©N    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  730 

jah.id  by  philosophers  ;  these  bubbles   being  lighter  than  the  Atmosphere, 
not  because  the  hqiiid  oi'  it,  which  makes  the  skin  or  wall  of  the  bubble,  ie 
rarer  than  theair,but  because  the  air  or  bubrile  matter,  that  is  in  ihe  bubble  is, 
by  the  sunbeams  ur  otherwise,made  more  rarethan  the  circumambient  air:  so 
that  take  the  skin  of  the  bubble  and  all  together,and  it  is  lighter  than  a  part  of 
the  air  that  is  round  about  it,  of  the  same  dimensions.     When  we  say  that 
the  air  within  the  bubble  is  rarer  than  that  without,  it  must  be  the  etherial 
part  of  the  air,  or  at  least  another  part  of  the  air  that  is  not  constituted  of 
these  bubbles,  for  that  which  is  in  all  the  bubbles  is  not  the  bubbles.     Now- 
here in  the  first  place,  it  is  certain  that  these  exhalations  do  constitute  a 
part  of  the  Atmosphere  that  is  round  about ;  and,  secondly,  it  is  certain  that 
ihey  do  not  wholly  constitute  it,  as  has  been  by  some  thought :  for  it  is  con- 
trary to  the  supposition,  viz.  that  these  bubbles  are  lighter  than  the  air, 
and  therefore  ascend  in  it.     Than  what  air  are  these  bubbles  lighter  ?    It 
is  not  meant  that  these  bubbles  arc  lighter  or  rarer  than  these  bubbles,  and 
therefore  ascend  among  them  :  so  that  these  are  not  the  primary  parts  of 
the  air.     Yea,  it  is  certain  that  the  matter  of  our  Atmosphere  is  the  very 
same  with  the  Ether,  the  same  with  that  which  is  in  the  spaces  between 
the  heavenly  bodies ;  and  that  there  is  a  certain  subtile  matter  in  these 
spaces,  and  that  it  is  the  same  with,  or  at  least  partly  constituted  of,  the 
air;  only  the  air  is  the  Ether  much  compressed.     If  it  has  been  proved 
that  the  self-expanding  quality  of  the  air  is  so  great,   as  has  been  said  by 
the  late  philosophers;  for  if  one  inch  square  of  it,  when  free  and  having 
nothing  incumbent  to  press  it  together,  will  expand  itseif  so  much,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  whole  Atmosphere,  being  free,  and  having  nothing  incumbent, 
will  expand  itself  into  all  the  Solar  System.     And  if  one  inch  square  of  air, 
at  the  distance  of  a  semi-diameter  of  the  Earth,  will  expand  itself  so  as  to 
fill  the  Solar  System,  then  there  is  nothing  incumbent  upon  the  Atmos- 
phere sufficient  to  hinder  its  free  expansion :  so  that  the  matter  of  our  air 
2s  abroad  in  the  heavenly  spaces. 

2.  The  etherial  part  of  the  air,  that  is  lierenear  the  Earth,  is  much  more 
compressed  by  reason  of  the  exhalations,  or  that  part  that  is  made  up 
of  bubbles  floating  in  the  air;  for  though  they  in  themselves  are  lighter 
than  the  air,  yet  they  have  some  weight,  and  must  therefore  necessarily 
add  to  the  weight,  that  is  incumbent  upon  that  lower  part  of  the  Atmos- 
phere, whereby  the  air  below,  in  general,  is  denser  and  heavier,  and  so 
more  able  to  bear  up  more  such  exhalations. 

3.  There  is  yet  another  way,  whereby  the  rays  of  the  Sun  do  doubtless 
€ause  particles  to  ascend  off  from  terrestrial  bodies,  beside  this  of  rarifying 
of  liquids,  and  making  of  them  hghter  than  the  air,  so  as  to  be  buoyed  up 
thereby.  For  as  the  air  or  Ether  is  nothing  but  exceedingly  subtile  and 
agile  particles,  made  so  exceedingly  elastic  and  diffusive,  by  their  lively 
motion  one  among  another ;  so  when  the  rays  of  the  Sun  separate  particles 
.as  subtile  as  they  are,  and  like  unto^them,  from  terrestrial  bodies,  and 
give  them  as  brisk  a  motion  as  the  particles  of  Ether  have,  such  particles 
thereby  do  become  some  of  them,  or  in  alLrespects  whatever  become  par- 
tioles  of  ether,  and  will  move  up  or  down,  on  one  side  or  another  indiffer- 
ently, in  the  Ether,  a?  other  particles  of  Ether  do.  Now  there  is  no  doubt 
but  that  there  are  great  plenty  of  particles  in  terrestrial  bodies,  that  are  as 
fine  as  the  Ether,  but  only  are  fixed  adhering  to  other  particles  by  gravity,, 
and  want  nothing  to  make  them  become  parts  of  Ether,  but  to  be  disen- 
gaged and  loosened,  and  to  have  a  suficiently  active  motion  given  them.. 
We  have  showed  that  all  bodies  are  constituted  of  atoms,  which  are,  it  is 
probable,  finer  than  any  etherial  particles.  And  it  is  not  to  be  doubted, 
therefore,  that  all  bodies  are  capable  of  being  dissolved  into  parts,  as  fine 
as  etherial  ones.     Siat  this  is  what  I  would,  that  doubtless  there  |are  great 


734  APPENDIX. 

ploiny  of  particlas  in  bodies,  proper  for  etherial  matter,  and  wanting  nothing 
but,  lo  be  loosened  and  set  m  motion.  And  it  ii  be  to,  i  ihrnk  it  cannot  be 
doubted,  but;  that  the  rnys  ot  thr-  Sun  do  daily  disengage  afiti  loosen  plenty, 
and  set  them  into  a  motion  suliiciuntly  lively  and  bricj< ;  and  so  thai  the  re 
is  continually  rismg  etherial  matter  trom  oit  rlie  suriace  or  tije  Earth,  and 
that  this,  in  considerable  m^-a^ure,  consdtules  ihv  Atmosphere,  and  is  not 
specifically  difierent  from  lii;  tirst  constituent  parts. 

4.  Aiid  se.-ing- these  particies  are  so  very  active,  and  therefore  diftusive, 
an  i  move  indiiierently  anyway  m  the  Etner,  no  tioubt  but  iho^^e  that  are 
daily  raised  from  off  the  Earth  may  di=.perse,  many  of  them  at  mmiense 
distances,  in  a  very  short  time,  though  noc  so  quick  as  rajs  of  light,  nor  in 
right  lines  as  they  move. 

5.  There  are,  doubtless,  the  like  etherial  particles,  continually  diffused 
"from  the  other  Planets,  as  from  the  Earth:  and,  CKtens  paribus^  the  more 
any  planet  has  of  the  Suns  mfiuence,  the  more  of  these  particles  are  dif- 
fused from  it;  and  therefore,  there  are  abundant ly  more  from  Comets, 
than  from  any  of  the  Planets.  And,  seeing  there  is  such  subTile  matter, 
diffused  around,  from  all  the  lieavenly  bodies,  iiiVc  the  etherial  spaces,  it  is 
probiible,  that  the  Ether  is  chieily  composed  of  them. 

6.  We  have  these  two  reasons,  to  think,  that  liie  motion  of  these  tub- 
tile  particles  is  exceedingly  rapid,  (I.)  Because,  they  receive  their  motion 
from  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  ',vnich  move  so  svviftly,  as  to  come  from  the  Sun 
in  seven  or  eight  minutes,  and  (i.)  It  can  absolutely  be  proved,  by  their 
great  elasticity — so  great,  that  an  inch  square  of  air  will,  by  its  elasticity, 
if  sufficiently  compressed,  be  of  sufficient  force,  to  move  a  prodigious 
weight;  wiiich  could  not  be,  except  the  motion  of  those  particles  were 
prodigiously  swift. 

7.  This  matter,  that  arises  from  the  heavenly  bodies,  will  diffuse  its-elf 
abundantly  faster,  at  a  distance  from  those  bodies,  than  near  them;  both 
because  they  are  so  much  less  retarded,  by  their  gravity  to  the  bodies  from 
whence  they  came,  and  because,  they  have  millions  of  times  more  liberty, 
and  their  motion  less  resisted  by  circumambient  j)a nicies. 

8.  There  may  be  a  great  difference,  in  the  kinds  of  particles,  dittused 
from  ditferent  planets:  even  as  there  is  a  great  dinrrence  in  the  particles, 
that  are  diffused  from  particular  bodies,  upon  the  Earth,  which  causes 
different  odours. 

9.  Those  Effluvia,  that  are  diffused  from  the  bodies  of  the  Universe,  dif- 
fusing themselves  so  fast,  and  being  so  fine  and  penetrating,  and  of  differ- 
ent kinds,  may  cause  con.-ideranle  and  different  effects  in  other  planets. 
Being  diffused  into  all  parts  of  the  etherial  spaces,  and  mixing  themselves- 
vvith  their  atmospheres,  and  being  so  very  active,  they  may  produce  con- 
siderable effects  in  the  temperature  of  their  air,  and  on  their  plants  and 
animals,  which  have  so  much  to  do  with  their  air.  And  these  eiiects  will 
be  different,  at  diiTerent  times,  according  as  the  bodies  are  nearer,  or  fur- 
ther off,  and  according  as  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  whicii  cause  them,  tall  upon 
either  the  side  that  is  towards  them,  or  that  that  is  trom  them.  And,  cete- 
ris paribus^  those  bodies,  which  are  nearest,  will  have  much  the  greatest 
effects  upon  the  Earth,  and,  therefore.  X\\^  Moon  has  vastly  greater  eff-^cts 
of  this  kind,  than  any  of  the  Planets.  And,  ceteris  partbus^thost:  bodies 
will  have  the  greatest  effects  upon  the  Earth,  which  emit  most  of  these  ef- 
fluvia ;  and,  therefore.  Comets  will  have  much  greater  alterations  upon 
the  Earth,  than  any  of  the  primary  Planets. 

10.  Whether  these  effluvia  are  diffi'.sed  from  one  star  to  another,  in 
an  hour,  or  a  month,  a  longer  or  a  shorter  time,  i:  ahers  not  the  case. 
Neither  will  it  cause  but  that  there  shall  be  constoiu  aiiier  r-*^  effects,  pro- 
duced at  certain  periods,  according  to  the  different  places  and  aspects  of 


SOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  7S5 

'the  stars,  provided  that  these  effluvia  are  propagated  to  the  same  dis- 
tance at  the  same  time.  For,  as  to  this,  it  alters  not  the  case,  wiiether, 
at  the  Full  Moon,  we  have  the  effects  of  the  offliivia  of  the  Full  Moon,  or 
of  the  First,  Quarter,  or  of  the  New  Moon:  yet,  it  will  not  lollow,  but 
that,  at  every  Full  Moon,  we  shall  have  the  same  etiects  produced. 

11.  It  seems  to  me  probable,  that,  before  the  Flood,  when  the  Earth 
enjoyed  so  temperate  and  undisturbed  an  Atmosphere,  when  the  effects 
of  the  stars,  of  (his  nature,  were  constant,  being  not  disturbed  by  the  per- 
turbations of  the  Atmosphere,  as  now,  and  the  lives  of  men  were  so  long, 
that  they  knew  the  effects  of  the  Planets  upon  the  Earth ;  that  they  could 
for'-tell  nearly  what  effects  such  a  position  or  aspect  of  the  Stars  would 
produce  in  the  Atmosphere,  and  upon  the  plants  and  animals  of  the  Earth; 
having  so  much  opportunity  of  experience  and  observation,  by  reason  of 
their  long  lives;  and  that  the  tradition  of  this,  from  Noah  and  his  sons  to 
their  posterity,  has  been  the  cause  of  that  general  opinion,  which  the  na- 
tions of  the  world  have  had,  that  the  various  phases  and  appearances  of 
the  planets  had  a  considerable  effect  upon  the  earth ;  and  thus  gave  rise 
to  Judicial  Astrology,  and,  in  a  great  measure,  to  their  Worshipping  of 
the  Planets. 

12.  Corollary^  from  the  first  part.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  Atmosphere  of 
the  Moon  is  so  much  less,  and  thinner,  than  that  of  the  Er.rth:  it  having 
so  much  less  attraction,  it  cannot  attract  so  much  of  the  ether  about  it, 
nor  will  it  be  so  much  compressed,  and  so  dense. 

13.  These  effluvia,  or  subtile  particles,  are  not  only  continually  dissol- 
ving, and  diffusing  from  the  bodies  of  the  Universe,  but  also,  doubtless, 
are  continually  settling  to  those  bodies,  and  so  become  fixed  again.  I  do 
not  suppose,  that  they  precipitate,  as  dust  in  water;  but,  seeing  that  far 
the  greatest  part  of  the  etherial  matter  that  is  in  the  whole  Universe,  is 
near  the  suriace  of  the  Stars;  these  particles,  crowding  about  these  bo- 
dies, doubtless  often  are  catched,  by  coming  so  appositely  to  some  of  their 
fixed  particles,  that  they  adhere  by  their  gravity,  and  their  motion  is  not 
sufficient,  to  carry  rh^-m  clear.  They  may,  also,  so  far  lose  their  motion, 
that  it  shall  not  be  sufficient,  to  keep  them  playing  oft"  from  the  Earth. 

14.  Here,  near  the  surface  of  the  Earth,  where  the  air  is  so  dense,  par- 
ticles, that  are  not  so  fine  as  the  particles  of  pure  ether,  may  easily  diffuse 
themselves,  nevertheless;  the  Atmosphere  counterbalancing  most,  though 
not  all,  of  their  gravity,  so  that,  their  motion  may  cast  them  to  a  great 
height  and  distance.  And  of  these  particles,  our  Atmosphere  is  doubtless, 
in  considerable  measure,  composed;  and  of  this  kind,  I  suppose,  the  efilu- 
via,  which  cause  odours,  to  be,  and  other  efrluvia,  that  are  emitted  from  all 
bodies,  upon  the  Earth,  set  in  motion,  not  only  by  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  but 
also,  by  the  motion  of  circumambient  aerial  particles,  and  by  intestine  mo- 
tion, in  the  bodies  themselves. 

57.  1.  It  is  already  determined,  what  Exhalations  are,  that  they  are 
nothing  but  bubbles  of  water,  including  atmospheric  air,  or  some  other 
etherial  matter,  considerably  rarer  than  the  air  without.  The  only  thing 
that  wants  to  be  known,  is,  bow  these  bubbles  come  to  be  made.  In  or- 
der to  determine  this,  we  must  first  know,  hov\'  any  bubbles  are  made, 
which  is,  by  driving  a  parcel  of  air  under  the  surface  of  the  water  ;  so  that, 
the  water  being  so  fluid,  immediately  closes  near  it,  so  that  there  is  a  par- 
cel of  air  inclosed  by  the  water.  Now,  this  incloeed  air  immediately  ga- 
thers itself  into  a  globular  form,  by  reason  of  the  gravity  of  the  parts  of 
the  air,  one  to  another,  as,  likewise,  the  gravity  of  the  parts  of  the  water, 
which  will  prevent  any  prominences  of  water,  inwards,  amongst  the  air. 
The  air,  also,  immediately  ascends  again,  to  emerge  from  the  water, 
whereupon,  most  of  the  v/ater  that  was  over  it,  runs  off  on  every  side; 


7S6  APPENDIX, 

but  water  being  a  thing,  whose  particles  are  so  fitted,  one  to  another,  that 
they  adhere  one  to  another,  by  their  gravity,  the  skin,  or  the  walls  of  the 
bubble,  will  not  immediately  break;  though  the  particles  of  water  run  oft' 
with  infinite  ease,  before  it  comes  to  the  last  skin,  because  they  run  upon 
other  water,  that  attracts  it  as  much,  as  these  particles  that  they  run 
from. 

2.  What  makes  small  bubbles  break  is,  1.  The  endeavour  of  the  air 
qqite  to  emerge ;  for  the  lowest  part  of  the  air  is  something  lower  tlian  the 
surface  of  the  water,  by  reason  of  the  weight  of  the  -» 
incumbent  water  in  the  skin  of  the  bubbles :    2.  The 
weight  of  the  water,  whereby  it  endeavours  to  run  off 
down  to  the  body  of  water  :  3.  The  attraction  of  the 
water,  tliat  is  at   the  basis  of  the  walls  of  the  bubbles;, 
for  the  water,  that  is  at  A  and  C,  attracts  the  water  of  Au^ 
the  skin,  that  is  next  to  it,  with  considerable  strength. 

3.  We  see  that  small  bubbles  live  much  longer  than  great  ones,  1.  be- 
cause the  skin  is  not  so  strongly  attracted  by  the  subjacent  water,  inas- 
much as  the  margin  of  the  bubble  is  not  so  large ;  and  2.  the  endeavour  of 
the  air  to  emerge  is  not  so  great,  there  not  being  so  much  below  the  sur- 
face of  the  water,  because  the  weight  that  presses  it  under  is  not  so  great. 
3.  Because  the  weight  of  the  water  of  the  skin  is  not  so  great. 

4.  A  very  small  bubble,  being  disjoined  from  the  water,  and  suspended 
in  the  air,  provided  the  air  within  remains  as  it  was,  and  the  bubble  be  not 
broken  by  something  external,  would  live  forever,  or  at  least  a  very  long 
time;  for  the  weight  of  the  water,  whereby  it  tends  to  run  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom  of  the  bubble,  would  be  very  inconsiderable,  the  bubble  being 
so  small ;  and  then  a  parcel  of  air,  ascending  out  of  the  water,  would  take 
no  more  water,  than  just  would  sufHce  for  a  skin.  The  weight  would  be 
nothing  near  equal  to  the  tendency  of  the  particles  one  to  another;  for  we 
see  in  great  bubbles  it  is  hardly  equal,  where  the  weight  is  so  much  great- 
er; therefore  the  weight  would  not  be  sufficient  to  disjoin  those  particles, 
therefore  the  bubble  would  not  be  broken  by  t^e  weight.  2.  The  attrac- 
tion of  the  water,  from  whence  it  ascended,  would  not  contribute  to  it,  be- 
cause it  would  be  carried  at  a  distance  from  it.  3.  Nor  the  endeavour  of 
the  inclosed  air  to  get  out  or  emerge  from  the  water,  or  in  bubbles  that  lie 
on  the  suriace,  because  it  is  supposed  it  would  be  entirely  emerged  and 
disjoined. 

5.  Now  then  all  that  is  necessary  to  be  done,  by  the  Sun's  rays,  in  or- 
der to  cause  bubbles  to  ascend  from  the  water,  is,  to  drive  very  minute 
particles  of  air  under  water,  and  to  make  the  air  inclosed  so  much  rarer 
than  the  rest  of  the  air,  that  this  air,  together  with  the  watery  skin,  shall 
be  lighter  than  a  parcel  of  other  air  of  the  same  bigness. 

6.  The  air  that  is  close  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  is  far  more  exposed 
to  the  force  of  the  Sun's  ray's,  than  any  at  a  distance,  because  the  other 
air  has  room  to  yield  to  the  stroke  of  the  rays,  but  this  must  bear  all  the 
brunt,  and  stand  the  stroke,  and  can  go  no  furth  ^r.  A  body,  that  is  smit- 
ten upon  an  anvil,  suffers  much  more  by  the  stroke,  than  a  thing  that  is^ 
floating  in  the  free  air.  Therefore  the  air,  that  is  next  to  the  surface  of 
the  water,  will  be  much  more  rarilied  by  the  Sun's  rays  than  the  other 
air. 

7.  If  a  very  small  parcel  of  air,  that  is  next  to  the  water,  happen  to  be 
struck  so  to  advantage,  by  the  rays  of  the  Sun,  (by  many  rays  striking  to- 
gether upon  it,  or  otherwise,)  as  to  be  smitten  just  under  the  surface  of 
the  water,  that  air,  being  smitten  more  forcibly  than  the  other  air  that  is 
smitten  under,  will  be  more  rarified  by  the  Sun's  rays  than  other  air ;  and 
that  parcel  of  the  air,  so  smitten  under,  emerging,  will  raise  a  bubble  with 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  737 

it,  and  if  the  air  within  be  rarified  enough,  (as  in  all  probability  it  will,  be- 
cause all  the  air,  that  is  next  to  the  water,  is  more  rarified  than  other  air, 
and  this  is  more  rarified  than  other  air,  that  is  next  to  the  water,)  I  say, 
if  the  air  within  is  rarified  enough,  it  will  not  only  be  buoyed  up  to  the 
surface  of  the  water,  causing  a  bubble  there,  but  will  leap  clear  out  of  the 
water,  and  will  ascend  in  the  air,  till  it  is  in  equipoise  with  the  circum- 
ambient air. 

58.  1.  I  never  yet  could  light  of  any  satisfying  reason,  why  the  Heat 
of  the  Sun  is  so  much  greater  near  the  Surface  of  the  Earth,  than  at  a  dis- 
tance from  it.  It  is  said  that,  near  the  Earth,  the  rays  are  (ioubled  by  re- 
flexion. But  they  are  not  dimhled  ;  for  none  can  think  that  the  Earth  re- 
flects all  the  rays  that  fall  upon  it,  at  least  not  with  as  much  strength  as 
they  come  from  the  Sun,  for  the  reflex  light  is  nothing  near  so  great  as  the 
direct  light,  it  is  very  evident.  But  I  suppose  that  the  heat,  that  is  very 
near  the  Earth,  in  a  hot  summer's  day,  is  a  hundred  times  greater  than 
merely  the  direct  rays  would  cause,  instead  of  being  only  double.  And  I 
suppose,  at  three  or  four  miles  from  the  Earth,  the  heat  is  nothing  to  what 
it  is  very  near:  but  there  is  as  much  of  the  reflex  ray,  to  a  very  trifle,  as  we 
have  close  to  the  surface,  for  the  rays,  that  are  reflected  from  the  Earth,  do 
pot  cease,  in  going  three  or  four  miles,  any  more  than  the  rays  reflected  from 
the  Moon,  or  Venus,  or  Jupiter,  or  Saturn ;  and  all  the  difference,  other- 
wise, is  only  according  to  the  squares  of  the  distances  from  the  centre ;  and 
.what  a  small  matter  is  that  in  three  or  four  miles. 

2.  The  heat  therefore  cannot  be  caused  immediately,  by  the  motion  of  the 
rays  of  the  Sun,  but  also  by  the  motion  of  other  particles  m  the  At- 
mosphere, set  in  motion  by  them.  Now  the  reason,  why  particles  should 
be  mach  more  set  in  motiorr,  near  the  Surface  of  the  Earth,  than  farther 
from  it,  we  gave  in  57  ;  because  that  part  of  the  Atmosphere,  that  is  close 
to  the  Surface  of  the  Earth,  suffers  much  more  from  the  rays,  so  that 
they  will  be  much  more  heated,  and  rarified,  and  ascending;  and  the  hea- 
vier, colder  air,  that  is  incumbent,  getting  under ;  so  that  it  is  the  ascent 
of  these  agitated  particles  that  chiefly  causes  the  heat,  which,  by  degrees, 
cooling  as  they  ascend,  being  no  longer  subject  to  the  violent  force  of  the 
rays,  will  cause  it  to  be  much  hotter  near  the  surface  and  cooler  at  a  dis- 
tance. 

59.  1.  The  matter  of  the  Tail  of  a  Comet,  does  not  ascend  from  the 
Sun,  because  it  is  made  more  rare  than  the  Ether ;  for  it  must  be  very  rare 
indeed  to  be  so  rare,  that  all  the  matter  of  the  greatest  tails  might  be  con- 
tained in  a  nut-shell;  (this  is  more  rare  than  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  ;) 
but  by  the  Comet's  heating  the  Ether  that  is  round  about,  so  that  the 
Ether  will  have  a  constant  stream  from  the  Comet  upwards  from  the  Sun, 
yea  a  very  rapid  stream,  so  as  to  carry  some  of  the  rarest  parts  of  the 
Comet's  Atmosphere  with  it. 

2.  These  tails  entirely  cease  to  be  emitted  at  a  consicTerable  distance 
from  the  Sun,  not  because  the  Comet  wants  heat  torarify.  but  because  the 
Ether  is  so  rare  it  is  not  strong  enough  to  carry  particles  with  it. 

60.  All  Plants,  from  the  begmning  af  the  world,  of  the  t^ame  kind,  are 
nothing  but  so  many  branches  of  the  first  plant,  or  plants,  proceeding  ever 
since,  and  sprout  out  in  exact  order,  and  at  regular  distances.  But  this 
regularity  consists  in  the  equality  of  different  periods.  They  do  not  con- 
tinue to  send  forth  branches,  one  afler  another,  perpetually,  without  inter- 
mission ;  but  this  germination,  has  various  stops,  and  stays,  of  equal 
lengths  and  distances,  one  from  another.  If  the  weather  be  never  so  suit- 
able, the  tree  will  not  continue  to  emit  branches  continually,  one  afler  an- 
other, without  intermission  r  but  afler  such  a  number  of  branches  are  emit- 
ted, no  more  will  sprout  for  some  months,  and  then  such  a  number  ag^ain 

Vol.  I.  93 


738  APPENDIX. 

will  unfold  themselves,  ceasing-  again,  at  the  due  period.  This  may  be  ob- 
served, at  least  in  all  the  trees  that  grow  in  this  climate,  where  are  suc- 
cessions of  summer  and  winter.  These  periods  are  usually  suited  to  the 
length  of  these  seasons.  And  once,  when  the  heat  here  in  New-England 
continued  extraordinarily  late,  we  have  had  part  of  two  of  these  periods  in 
a  year ;  plants  that  had  stopped,  sprouted  again.  The  twig  grows,  till  the 
bud  for  the  next  year  appears,  and  then  ceases;  but  if  the  weather  con- 
tinues warm,  it  will  be  a  considerable  time  before  these  buds  will  expand 
themselves.  Another,  and  the  largest  distance  is,  from  seed  to  seed.  The 
fruit  and  seed  is  the  extremity  of  a  branch,  and  that  branch  or  twig,  from 
which  the  seed  falls,  never  grows  any  more  at  all  by  it ;  tbg  tree  proceeds 
on  no  farther  that  way. 

61.  It  is  the  same  thing  that  distant  existence,  distant  as  to  place, 
should  have  influence  on  bodies,  as  in  gravity  ;  as  that  existence,  distant  as 
to  time,  being  past,  should  liave  influence  on  their  present  existence,  as  in 
the  successions  of  motion. 

62.  WIND.  EXHALATIONS.  It  is  certain,  by  experience,  that 
winds  do  contribute  so  to.  drying  up  of  moisture.  It  is  not  conceivable, 
that  the  wind  should  raise  those  bubbles,  of  which  watery  exhalations  con- 
sist ;  but  we  conceive  it,  that  it  contributes  to  the  raising  of  them,  after 
this  manner.  It  may  contribute  to  the  raising  them  from  off  the  surface 
of  bodies  of  water,  by  continually  carrying  off"  the  moist  air,  and  by  bring- 
ing on  that  from  the  land  which  is  dryer  and  more  agile ;  whose  parts  are 
more  briskly  moved  by  the  heat,  and  therefore,  are  more  easily  driven  un- 
der the  surface  of  the  water,  and  so  carry  it  off".  It  dries  things  that  are 
moist  upon  the  land,  by  carrying  off*  the  exhalations  from  the  loose  and 
porous  parts,  as  soon  as  raised,  so  that  they  do  not  lodge  again,  and  stand 
in  the  way  of  others. 

63.  PLANETS.  A  reason  why  the  Greater  Planets,  as  Jupiter,  and 
Saturn,  are  placed  at  such  a  vast  distance  from  the  Sun,  and  the  Lesser 
Planets  nearer;  is  because,  if  such  vast  bodies  were  near,  they  would  have 
abundantly  greater  influence  by  their  attraction,  to  disturb  the  rest  of  the 
Sun,  and  so  in  time,  to  overthrow  the  whole  system.  The  Comets  would 
likewise  be  greatly  exposed  to  their  influence,  and  their  orbits  would  be 
much  disturbed  by  them.  And  it  is  fit  they  should  be  at  a  great  distance 
from  the  Lesser  Planets,  otherwise  they  would  greatly  disorder  their  mo- 
tion ;  and  also  from  one  another,  for  bodies  of  such  mighty  force  and  pow- 
er must  be  kept  at  a  distance,  otherwise  they  will  make  dreadful  work, 
one  with  another. 

64.  WAVES.  Circular  Waves  in  the  water  are  begun,  with  a  raising 
or  depression  of  the  water,  in  the  centre  of  these  circles,  and  are  made 
thus.  Suppose  the  water  is  raised  into  a  hillock,  at  1.  This  cannot  be, 
without  the  water  subsiding  in  the  space  2,  to  make  the  hillock';  and  the 
water  at  3,  is  set  in  motion  towards  1 ,  to  fill  up  that  hollow.  And  it  is 
most  easy  to  conceive,  that  the  water  at  3,  moving^  out  of  its  place,  ami 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIEI^CBv 


t3fj 


hereby  leaving  a  valley,  the  water  at  4,  will  necessarily  follow,  and  so  on 
to  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,    11: 

for  a  valley  being  made      /'j\2  /'s\4: /3\^/^7\8 /p\l^/lJ\  y 
at  2,  the    water  at  3,  ^^  ^^"^        ^"^^  ^"^ 

comes  to  fill  it  up,  and  leaves  a  valley  at  3 ;  then  the  water  at  4  moves  in- 
ward, and  leaves  a  valley  there  ;  so  that  the  valley  that  began  at  2,  spreads 
around  further  and  further,  in  a  circle  outward,  from  1 ,  ^2,  3,  4,  etc.  suc- 
cessively. But  we  are  to  remember  that  the  hillock  of  matter  at  1,  imme- 
diately subsides  and  flows  every  way  into  the  space  2,  and  stops  the  wa- 
ter at  3,  which  was  set  in  motion  inwards;  whereby  it  necessarily  rises 
into  a  hill,  for  water,  being  stopped  in  its  motion,  will  necessarily  rise.  The 
water  at  3,  being  stopped  and  raised  in  an  hill,  this  hill  falling,  contradicts 
and  stops  the' water  at  4,  and  causes  that  to  rise ;  so  that  it  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive, why  there  must  immediately  succeed  a  rising,  spreading  af\er-  the 
same  manner.  VVe  are  to  remember  that  we  left  a  valley  at  1,  where  th?r 
water  subsided,  and  must  necessarily  subside  lower  than  the  ordinary  sur- 
face ;  because  when  the  hill  was  raised  there,  there  was  a  valley  round  it, 
in  the  space  2.  Now  the  weight  and  libration  of  the  water,  would  cause 
all  the  water  at  1 ,  that  was  higher  than  that  valley,  to  flow  away.  There 
being  now,  therefore,  a  valley  at  1,  and  a  hill  at  2,  it  is  easy  to  conceive, 
that  the  libration  of  the  water,  will  raise  another  hill  at  1,  leaving  a  valley 
at  2,  which  valley  will  be  communicated  to  3,  4, 5,  etc.  after  the  same  man- 
ner, and  for  the  same  reason,  as  the  first  valley  ;  and  this  again  will  suc- 
ceed another  hill.  And  so  there  will  be  a  continued  succession  of  spread- 
ing hills  and  vallies,  having  their  original  in  the  successive  hills  and  va]- 
lies,  in  the  spaces  1,  and  2,  caused  by  the  libration  of  the  water. 

But  if  we  suppose,  that  in  the  first  place,  a  valley,  and  not  a  hill,  is  ma^^ 
in  the  space  1 ,  then  the  first  circle  will  be  an  hill,  and  not  a  valley ;  for  the 
w^ter  being  expe-lled  out  of  1 ,  n«»6essar]ly  thrusts  up  the  water  at  2,  and 


746 


APPENDIX. 


causes  a  hill  there :  the  water  at  2,  subsiding,  thrusts  up  the  water  at  3, 
that,  the  water  at  4,  and  so  on  :  and  then  there  being  the  same  reciproca- 
tion of  the  water  at  1,  and  2,  as  in  the  former  case,  causes  the  same  suc- 
cession of  circular  hills  and  vallies. 

65.  LEAVER. — Problem.  To  give  the  reason,  why  the  same  force 
or  weight,  upon  a  Leaver  or  Balance,  has  a  stronger  or  weaker  influence, 
according  as  it  is  further  from,  or  nearer  to,  the  Center  of  motion.  For 
instance,  suppose  that  the  weight  D,hangingfromtheend  A  of  the  balance 

A  t. 


A  B,  is  in  equiUbno  with  the  weight  E,  that  is  four  times  less,  hanging  at 
\,he  other  end,  B,  of  the  balance,  at  four  times  the  distance  from  the  center 
of  motion,  C.  To  solve  this  problem,  we  shall  lay  down  the  following 
Propositions,  as  most  agreeable  to  the  reason  of  man. 

Proposition  1.  Tlie  same  force  or  power,  which,  applied  at  a  certain 
single  moment,  is  sufficient  to  raise  the  greater  weight,  D,  is  requisite  to 
raise  the  weight  E,  which  is  four  times  less,  four  times  as  far.  This  is 
evident,  because  the  effect  is  just  equal,  and  what  is'wanting  in  weight,  in 
the  lesser  body,  is  exactly  made  up  in  the  distance  raised.  If  there  is  re- 
quisite a  greater  force,  to  raise  the  weight  E  four  inches,  than  one,  as 
there  certainly  is,  for  we  suppose  no  continual  repetition  of  the  force,  but 
an  application  of  it  for  a  certain  moment :  if  so,  then  I  say,  there  needs 
four  times  as  much,  for  the  Vv'eight  resists  the  motion,  as  well  while  the 
body  is  moving  the  2d  moment,  (space,)  as  the  first,  and  as  much  the  3d, 
and*4th,  as  the  2d. 

Hence  we  may  learn,  why  the  weight  D  will  not  sink,  but  hang  in  equi- 
librio  with  the  lesser  weight;  because,  if  it  subsided,  it  must  raise  the 
weight  E,  four  times  as  much  as  it  fell  itself,  every  moment  of  its  fall. 
But,  in  order  to  that,  by  t!ie  foregoing  proposition,  there  would  need  a 
force  snfRcient  to  raise  the  weight  D,  that  is,  a  force  that  is  greater  than 
the  weight  D.     Wherefore,  the  weight  D  will  not  raise  the  weight  E. 

Coroll.  It  necessarily  follows  hence,  that,  if  the  weight  E  be  made  in 
the  least  greater,  it  will  descend,  for  it  hung  in  equihbrio  before;  but  the 
reason  of  this  will  appear  better,  from  the  following  Proposition. 

Proposition  2.  The  supporting  or  holding  up  of  a  greater  weight,  is  an 
eflPect,  that  is  fully  equivalent  to,  and  requires  a  force  or  power  full  as  great, 
as  the  raising  or  carrying  upwards  alesser  Vv  eight.  It  is  exceeding  evident ;, 
because,  if  the  least  degree  of  force  was  added,  it  would  carry  upwards^ 
even  the  greater  weight. -i^Or,  we  may  take  the  Proposition  in  more  gene- 
ral terms,  thus :  The  bare  resisting  of  a  greater  force,  is  equivalent  to  the 
carrying  or  moving  a  body  against  a  lesser. 

Hence  it  follows,  that  if  the  lesser  body  E  be  made  in  the  least  heavier, 
or  removed  further  from  the  center  of  motion,  it  will  subside,  and  raise  the 
greater  weight  ]) ;  because,  as  has  been  shown  already,  it  is  not  sufficient 
to  raise  it  now :  but  if  it  was  heavier,  or  further  removed  from  A,  the 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  741 

jsupportincr  of  it  would  require  more  force,  than  the  raising  it.  Let  the 
weight  E  be  supposed  to  be  removed  to  F,  a  fourth  part  of  the  former  dis- 
tance, and  let  the  weight,  at  the  same  time,  be  made  answerably  lighter. 
It  is  evident,  by  the  foregoing  proposition,  that  it  would  then  remain  in 
Gquihbrio  with  the  weight  D.  It  is,  therefore,  evident  by  this,  that  if  it 
be  removed,  without  proportionally  lessening  its  weight,  it  will  sink,  be- 
cause the  holding  it  up,  would  require  greater  force,  than  the  raising  it 
before. 

66.  SOUND.  The  cause  of  Sound  is  agreed  to  be,  a  vibrating,  or  a 
trembling  motion  of  the  air,  consisting  of  quick  and  very  sudden  shocks^ 
or  leaps  of  the  air,  reciprocated.  It  is  very  eavsy  to  conceive,  why  the 
meeting  of  two  hard  bodies  should  cause  such  a  trembling,  correspondent 
to  the  trembling  of  these  bodies;  and  why  a  body,  moving  steadily,  though 
very  swiftly,  in  the  air,  should  cause  but  httle  such  motion  in  the  air.  But 
we  find,  that  the  most  violent  sounds  are  caused  by  the  shutting  or  closing 
of  a  gap  or  vacuity,  that  has  been  made  in  the  air;  and  it  is  very  agreea- 
ble to  reason,  that  it  should  be  so.  For  such  a  gap  being  made,  it  neces- 
sarily follows,  from  the  weight  of  the  incumbent  atmosphere,  and  its  very 
elastic  nature,  that  the  walls  of  the  vacuity  should  rush  together,  with  in- 
credible violence,  and  that  they  should  strike  each  other,  with  great  force  : 
upon  which,  the  air  that  thus  meets,  will  be  very  much  compressed,  and 
will  again,  by  reason  of  its  elasticity,  very  suddenly,  and  with  violence, 
expand  itself  again;  and,  according  to  the  laws  of  the  motion  of  elastic 
bodies,  with  twice  as  great  viol.- nee,  as  the  like  quantity  of  air,  compress- 
ed in  a  solid  body,  would  expand  itself:  for  then,  the  air  would  be  beaten 
back,  only  by  its  own  spring,  but  now,  by  that,  and  also  by  A 

the  spring  of  the  air  that  it  met.  Let  the  air  meet  at  the 
plane  A  B,  and  be  by  the  shock  much  compressed.  It  is 
evident,  that  the  air,  on  the  side  of  that  plane  C,  will  notD 
only  leap  back  towards  that  side,  by  its  own  elasticity,  but 
that  the  elasticity  of  the  air  on  the  other  side  of  the  plane, 
the  side  D,  will  impel  it  towards  the  side  C,  with  equal  force.  B 

And  so  the  reciprocation  will  be  repeated,  with  great  violence,  for  a  time. 

Sound,  that  is  made  by  the  collision  of  solid  bodies,  is  not  made  by  the 
sudden  start  of  the  air,  from  between  the  closing  parts  of  those  bodies; 
but  the  vibration  of  the  air  is  begotten  by  a  vibration  of  the  parts  of  the 
bodies  themselves ;  for,  if  the  body  that  is  smitten  be  set  upon  another,  the 
sound  will  be  like  that  of  the  body  it  stands  upon  ;  which  can  be  for  no 
other  reason,  than  that  the  vibration  is  communicated  to  the  parts  of  that 
body,  and  from  them  to  the  air.  So,  from  the  communication  of  sound,  in 
a  long  stick  of  timber,  if  we  lay  our  ear  at  the  farther  end,  when  it  is 
struck,  the  sound  will  seem  to  be  made  there ;  which  is  doubtless,  from 
the  communication  of  the  vibration,  through  the  parts  of  the  timber. 

The  loudness  of  many  sounds,  doubtless  arises  from  the  continualness  of 
them  :  that  is,  let  pulses  of  the  same  degree  be  continued,  or  constantly 
repeated  in  the  air,  and  on  the  organ,  every  successive  moment :  the 
Sound  will  not  only  be  longer,  but  abundantly  louder,  than  if  only  one  of 
these  pulses  smote  the  organ,  and  ceased;  that  is,  provided  those  pulses 
are  repeated  so  quick,  that  the  impression,  made  upon  the  organ  by  one 
pulse,  does  not  cease,  till  another  comes,  or  so  quick,  that  several  of  them 
smite  the  organ,  before  the  mind  can  perceive  any  succession,  or  while 
one  idea  remains  unvaried  in  the  mind,  before  it  has  time  to  grow  old,  or 
perish,  in  any  degree.  The  reason,  in  both  cases,  is  very  plain ;  for  if 
the  impression  of  one  pulse  remains  upon  the  organ,  till  another  comes,  the 
n<?w  impression  being  added  to  the  old,  the  whole  impression  must  be 


t42  AI»PENDIX. 

greater.  And  if  many  pulses  affect  the  mind,  before  the  mind  can  per- 
ceive any  succession,  and  during  the  time  that  one  idea  or  mental  impres- 
gion  remains  unvaried  in  the  mind,  then  there  will  be  the  addition  of  seve- 
ral impressions  together,  which  must  be  stronger  than  one  alone.  If  three 
sounds,  or  three  pulses,  be  made  upon  the  air  and  ear,  in  so  little  time, 
that  the  mind  has  not  the  least  sense  of  succession,  and  they  seem  to  be 
all  perfectly  at  once  ;  then  it  will  be  all  one  to  the  mind,  as  if  these  three 
sounds  had  been  made  really  at  once  ;  and  the  sound  will  be  as  much  loud- 
er than  one  of  these  sounds  alone,  as  three,  joined  together,  would  be 
louder  than  one  of  them. 

Coroll.  1.  The  shrillness  of  the  sound  of  a  bell  arises,  very  much,  from 
this  cause.  There  is  a  continuance  of  pulses,  exceedingly  quick,  repeated 
©ne  after  another,  answ^erable  to  the  vibrations  of  the  metal;  and  perhaps 
one  of  these  vibrations,  singly,  would  not  make  a  louder  noise,  than  a  rap 
with  a  staff,  upon  a  piece  of  wood,  which  yet,  is  not  the  one  hundredth  part 
so  loud,  as  the  rigning  of  a  bell. 

Coroll.  2.  The  loudness  of  Thunder  arises,  also,  very  much,  from 
hence ;  for  the  Lightning,  that  breaks  forth  from  the  cloud,  and  comes  so 
instantaneously  down  to  the  Earth,  smites  the  air  successively,  all  the 
way.  And  if  Sound  came  as  quick  as  the  light,  the  Sound  would  all  seem 
to  be  together,  in  a  moment;  but  because  the  places,  from  whence  the 
Sound  comes,  are  gradually  further  and  further  off,  and  so  the  Sound 
comes  to  us  successively ;  but  not  so  slow,  but  that  the  stroke  of  the  Light- 
ning upon  the  air,  for  a  long  space,  seems  to  come  to  us  at  once.  It  may 
be,  that,  in  the  loudest  claps  of  Thunder,  if  we  only  received  the  impres- 
sion that  the  Lightning  made  in  going  one  foot,  and  were  not  reached  by 
the  impression  made  in  the  rest  of  its  course,  it  would  not  be  a  quarter  so 
Joud,  as  the  report  of  a  pistol. 

67.  THUNDER.  It  is  remarkable  of  Thunder,  how  long  one  part  of 
the  sound  will  be  heard  after  another,  when  it  is  evident  that  the  sound  is 
made  all  in  an  instant,  by  the  Lightning,  which  continues  no  longer.  Tnie 
arises  from  the  length  of  the  stream  of  Lightning,  whereby  one  part  is  a 
great  deal  farther  from  us  than  another,  so  that  the  sound  is  a  great  while 
coming  successively.  Hence  it  is,  that  in  claps  of  thunder,  that  are  near 
us,  the  first  noise  that  we  hear  seems  to  be  very  near  the  Earth,  and  then 
it  seems  to  go  further  and  further  from  us,  and  the  last  will  be  a  murmur- 
ing up  in  the  clouds ;  for  although  the  noise  that  was  made  in  the  clouds, 
and  the  noise  near  the  earth,  was  made  together  as  at  an  instant,  yet  that 
in  the  clouds  is  much  farther,  and  therefore  is  longer  coming,  and  is  a 
much  lower  sound  when  it  sounds. 

The  rapid  vibration  of  the  air  jars  and  jumbles,  breaks  and  condenses, 
the  bubbles  of  the  cloud :  whence  it  is,  that,  soon  after  hard  claps  of  thun- 
der, rain  falls  in  greater  plenty. 

I  regard  Thunder  as  a  meteor  by  far  the  most  wonderful  and  least  ex- 
plicable of  any  whatsoever.  But  that  we  may  make  some  approaches  to 
the  knowledge  of  the  true  nature  of  it,  we  shall  lay  down  these  following 
propositions. 

1.  The  Streams  of  Lightning  are  not  caused  by  any  solid  burning,  oi 
red-hot  mass  of  matter,  exploded  with  such  swiftness  as  to  cause  it  to  ap- 

?ear  as  if  there  were  one  continued  stream  of  light ;  nor  are  the  effects  of 
iightning  caused  by  the  violent  stroke  of  any  such  solid  mass.  For  if 
Lightning  were  such  a  body  projected,  it  would  be  projected  according  to 
the  laws  of  projected  bodies ;  whereas  the  path  of  the  Lightning  is  exceed- 
ingly far  from  it,  being  very  crooked   and  angled.     If  Lightning  were  a 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE,  749 

solid  body,  projected  rom  the  cloud  at 
A,  towards  E,  with  such  ft  prodigious  jr^-.^^^^^^ 
celerity,  it  proceeds  according  to  the  di-  ^^^^^^^^^^ses;;;:^;^-^;^^; 
reclicn  A,  very  nearly,  and  turns  short ^^^^^^^^^^^^'■^- 
at  E  in  the  free  air,  and  so  at  F,  B  and 
C  ;  for,  when  it  is  projected  with  such  a 
prodigious  force,  it  must  also  be  a  prodi- 
gious force,  that  must  change  the  course 
ofiiso  short,  and  not  the  force  of  the 
free  and  yielding  air. — But  if  any  should 
suppose,  that  the  change  of  the  course 
of  the  Lightning  might  be  caused,  by 
some  very  violent  eruptions  of  fire,  at 
these  angles,  where  the  course  is  chan- 
ged, that  gives  the  thunderbolt  a  new 
projection: — to  this  I  reply,  that  the 
fiery  stream  of  Lightning  is  smooih  and 
even[;  but  if  there  were  any  such  new 
eruptions,  they  would  be  seen  by  a  sud-' 
den  and  extraordinary  expansion  of  the  light,  in  those  places.  But  what 
proves,  that  this  cannot  be  the  reason  of  the  crookedness  of  the  path  of  the 
Lightning,  is,  that,  as  the  flash  of  the  Lightning  is.ropeated  once  or  twice, 
however  crooked  and  angled  the  path  is,  yet  it  is  every  time  the  same :  a 
stream  of  Lightning  darts  from  the  clouds  two  or  three  times  over,  and 
every  time  exactly  in  the  same  path.  And  sometimes  there  is  a  continued 
stream,  for  some  time,  with  a  tremulous  motion.  Now  if  these  repeated 
flashes  were  one  bolt  exploded  after  another,  and  the  reason  of  the  Light- 
ning's changing  its  course  were  new  eruptions  of  fire,  how  should  every 
bolt  proceed,  so  exactly,  in  the  same  path. — And  further,  the  effects  of 
Lightning,  upon  earthly  bodies,  can  in  no  wise  be  accounted  for,  by  the 
violent  projection  of  a  solid  mass,  and  do  plainly  show  that  they  are  nof 
produced  by  such  a  cause.  There  is  no  such  effect,  as  is  caused  by  the 
explosion  of  a  cannon  ball.  It  is  not  worth  while  to  stand  to  particularize, 
for  it  is  exceedingly  evident  that  none  of  the  effects  of  Lightning  arise 
from  any  such  cause.     Nor 

2.  Are  those  streaks  of  Lightning  caused  by  a  vein  of  combustible  mat- 
ter's taking  fire,  and  the  fire's  running  from  one  end  of  the  vein  to  the 
other  almost  instantaneously.  This  would  not  produce  any  of  those  effects, 
which  are  caused  by  lightning,  except  we  should  suppose  that  these  veins 
enter  into  the  hearts  of  trees,  rocks,  and  metals,  and  bodies  of  animals.  If 
it  were,  it  would  be  a  wonder  that  the  lower  ends  of  these  veins  never 
took  fire  from  fires  that  are  upon  earth.     But 

3.  Lightning  seems  to  be  this :  An  almost  infinitely  fine,  combustible 
matter,  that  floats  in  the  air,  that  takes  fire  by  a  sudden  and  mighty  fer- 
mentation, that  is  some  way  promoted  by  the  cool  and  moisture,  and  per- 
haps attraction,  of  the  clouds.  By  this  sudden  agitation,  this  fine,  floating 
matter,  is  driven  forth  with  a  mighty  force  one  way  or  other,  which  ever 
way  it  is  directed,  by  the  circumstances  and  temperature  of  the  circumja- 
cent air ;  for  cold  and  heat,  density  and  rarity,  moisture  and  dryness,  has 
almost  an  infinitely  strong  influence  upon  the  fine  particles  of  matter. 
This  fluid  matter,  thus  projected,  still  fermenting  to  the  same  degree,  di- 
vides the  air  as  it  goes,  and  every  moment  receives  a  new  impulse  by  the 
continued  fermentation ;  and  as  its  motion  received  its  direction,  at  first, 
from  the  different  temperature  of  the  air,  on  different  sides,  so  its  direc- 
tion is  changed,  according  to  the  temperature  of  the  air  it  meets  with, 
which   renders  the  path  of  the  lightning  so  crooked.     The  parts  are  so 


744  APPENDIX. 

fine,  arvd  afe  so  vehemently  urged  on,  that  they  instantaneously  make  their 
way  into  the  pores  of  earthly  bodies,  still  burning  with  a  prodigious  heat, 
and  so  instantly  rarifying  the  rarifiable  parts.  Sometimes  these  bodies  are 
somewhat  bruised  ;  which  is  chiefly  by  the  beating  of  the  air  that  is,  with 
great  violence,  driven  every  way  by  the  intlamed  matter. 

68.  GRAVITY.  If  there  ^e  any  thing,  that  makes  us  prone  to  seek 
for  a  farther  cause  of  Gravity  than  Solidity,  it  is  because  Solidity  is  a  qual- 
ity so  primary,  that  the  very  being  of  the  thing  depends  on  it.  If  we  re- 
move the  idea  of  Solidity,  there  remains  nothing  at  ail ;  but  we  can  con- 
ceive of  something  existing  without  thinking  of  gravitating  at  a  distance. 
They  are  both  of  them  essential  and  primary  qualities :  but  there  is  this 
difference — the  one  is  essential  in  order  to  the  very  existence,  the  other  in 
order  to  the  harmonious  existence  of  body.  Though  Gravity  itself,  be- 
tween the  continuous  parts,  is  necessary  in  order  to  the  existence,  the  mind 
does  not  so  intuitively  see  how.  But  Gravity  is  a  quality  more  primary  in 
these  respects,  and  more  essential  than  Mobility  is,  which  none  seek  a  rea- 
son for,  or  in  the  least  question  to  be  a  primary  property  of  matter. 

69.  DENSITY.  PORES.  A  Body,  which  is  very  hard,  may  not 
have  the  thousandth  part  of  the  space  contained  within  its  bounds,  filled 
with  matter,  though  we  should  not  suppose  that  the  parts  of  the  body  had  a 
particular  disposition  contrived  for  this  end.  We  need  merely  suppose 
the  primogenial  atoms  to  be  of  all  manner  of  figures,  indifferently  and  ac- 
cidentally cast  together  in  a  heap.  If  so,  we  may  suppose  fairly,  that  this 
heap  will  not  be  above  half  of  it  matter.  Let  these  heaps  constitute  so 
many  particles  of  all  figures  indifferently,  and  yet  consistent  and  solid 
enough,  for  aught  we  know.  Let  these  particles  be  cast  together  to  con- 
stitute other  particles,  they  also  will  leave  half  the  space  empty,  even  of 
them,  so  that  half  the  space  between  these  particles  will  be  empty,  and 
half  within  them,  so  that  only  a  quarter  will  be  full.  If  we  suppose  other 
particles  to  be  made  of  these  again,  but  an  eighth  part  will  he  full.  And 
by  the  time  we  have  had  ten  such  compositif)ns  we  shall  not  have  the  thou- 
sandth part  of  the  space  filled. — [N.  B.  This  has  been  thought  of  be- 
fore.] 

70.  ELASTICITY  maybe  explained  after  a  yet  different  manner,  than 
by  the  violent  motion  of  the  particles,  and  I  forsee  must  be.  And  first  I 
shall  show,  that  it  may  be  differently  explained  ;  and  secondly,  that  although 
this  intestine  motion  may  be,  and  aoubtless  oflen  is,  a  secondary  cause  of 
Elasticity,  yet  that  it  cannot  be  the  first  foundation  of  it,  but  that  this 
motion  itself  must  be  explained  from  another  Elasticity. 

1.  The  Attraction  of  particles  to  other  particles  which  they  touch,  or 
to  which  they  are  very  near,  may  eause,  and  ino*:';d  cannot  but  cause,  Elas- 
ticity. For  if  the  touching  particles  tend  exceeding  strongly  to  each  other, 
as  is  most  certain  they  do;  then,  if  they  are  in  the  least  separated,  unless 
so  far  as  to  be  out  of  the  strength  of  the  attraction,  they  will  very  strougly' 
tend  to  move  to  each  other  to  touch  again  ;  so  diat,  if  by  any  force  they 
are  a  little  pulled  asunder,  if  the  force  that  holds  them  asunder  be  taken 
away,  they  will  immediately  with  great  violence  rush  together  again,  and 
that  in  most  bodies,  whose  particles  are  strongly  united  together  after  such 
a  separation,  they  will  with  great  force  recover  themselves. 

And  here  I  would  take  notice  of  two  things,  that  pretty  much  depend 
on  each  other.  (1.)  That  the  particles  of  a  rare  body,  by  this  way  of  ex- 
plaining their  union,  may  be  much  more  strongly  united  than  a  denser  one; 
for  the  strength  of  the  union  consists  in  the  opposite  position  of  the  surface 
of  the  particles  to  each  other ;  but  yet  there  may  be  a  great  many  particles 


"NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  745 

ill  a  little  room,  and  yet  the  surfaces  not  lie  opposite  one  to  another.  For 
matter,  of  the  quantity  ofa  foot  cube,  may  be  so  raritied,  as  to  be  extended 
as  big  as  the  Universe,  and  yet  there  shall  not  be  one  hair's  breadth,  but 
what  has  some  of  that  matter  in  it,  and  yet  the  body  shall  be  perfectly  hard, 
and  nD  part  of  it  moveable,  by  less  than  Infinite  strength.  For  it  may-Jae 
drawn  out,  to  such  a  fine  wire,  that  shall  be  a  continued,  uninterrupted,  abso- 
lute plenum,  so  folded,  coiled  and  tangled,  within  itself,  and  running  every 
way  backwards  and  forwards,  as  that  not  a  part  of  space,  so  big  as  a  ray  of 
light,  shall  be  without  some  of  it,  and  yet  it  shall  be  what  we  call  an  Atom, 
and  the  continuity  ortouching  by  planes  shall  be  uninterrupted.  (2.)  That 
the  Particles  or  Atoms  of  bodies  may  be  condensed,  or  thrust  one  in  amongst 
another,  and  yet  the  union  of  the  Atoms  shall  not  be  much  the  stricter ;  be- 
cause Atoms,  being  infinitely  hard  bodies,  their  protuberances  infinitely 
hard,  and  their  surfaces  unalterable,  they  may  be  jammed  in,  one  amongst 
another,  and  yet  their  surfaces  not  adhere  much  more  strictly  one  to  ano- 
ther. And  further,  this  perfect  hardness  of  the  Atoms,  may  hinder  their 
being  thrust  in  one  amongst  another ;  but  will  not  liinder  their  being  pulled 
asunder. 

Now  let  the  body  A  B  C  D,  whose  particles  have  a  firm  union,  be  bent 
towards  D.  It  is  evident,  either  that  the.  particles  at  B 
are  pulled  farther,  one  from  another,  than  they  were  ;  or 
that  the  particles  at  D  are  more  condensed  together;  or 
both.  But,  as  we  have  said,  the  particles  at  D  will  not 
be  so  easily  thrust  nearer  together,  because  of  their  stub- 
born nature,  as  the  particles  at  B  may  be  drawn  Bl 
asunder.  It  is  also  evident,  that  the  particles  at  B,  that 
are  drawn  asunder,  by  tending  to  come  together  again, 
will  tend  to  pull  the  ends  of  the  body  back  again  to,  and 
to  recover  it  to,  its  former  straitness  :  which  tendency  is 
Elasticity.  And  further,  it  is  probable,  by  what  we  have  said  already,  that . 
if  the  particles  at  D,  are  thrust  together,  their  tendency  to  each  other  will 
not  be  very  much  increased,  so  as  to  hold  the  body  in  its  bent  posture,  as 
the  particles  at  B  tend  to  pull  it  strait.  And  however  that  is,  there  is  no 
need  to  suppose  that  the  particles  at  D  are  thrust  nearer  together ;  and  it 
is  probable,  the  constitution  of  firm  bodies  hinders  it.  And  certainly  the 
constitution  may  be  such  as  to  hinder  it,  much  more  than  to  hinder  the 
pulling  of  bodies  asunder ;  for  it  is  certain  that  Atoms,  being  infinitely 
hard,  if  they  touch  only  in  their  prominences,  cannot  be  made  to 
touch  nearer,  but  may  be  drawn  asunder.  Wherefore  it  is  certain,  that 
Elasticity  may  be  caused  by  this  means. 

2.  The  second  thing  to  be  proved  was,  That  a  rapid  motion  cannot  be 
the  first  original  of  Elasticity.  For,  if  we  suppose  that  those  particles, 
which  are  shut  up  in  a  little  room,  are  continually  in  a  violent  motion,  and 
rebound  from  side  to  side,  yet  Elasticity  is  necessary,  in  order  to  the  main- 
taining of  the  motion.  Otherwise,  at  the  first  stroke  against  the  walls  of 
the  room,  it  would  lose  all  its  motion.  There  is  necessary,  therefore,  ano- 
ther Elasticity,  in  order  to  the  maintaining  of  this  motion;  which,  being 
maintained  by  this  first  original  Elasticity,  may,  in  the  aforesaid  manner, 
cause  Elasticity,  as  undoubtedly  it  does  in  the  Atmosphere.  Therefore, 
we  see  that  its  motion  being  increased,  its  elasticity  is  increased  with  it. 

Here  we  would  note,  that  we  think  no  phenomena  contradict  what  we 
have  said  of  Elasticity,  arising  from  the  tendency  of  separated  atoms,  to 
reunion  with  their  fellows — for  instance,  that  of  the  hammer  and  anvil.  The 
hammer  does  not  thrust  the  atoms  quite  from  their  fellows ;  if  they  did  so,  a 
bruise  would  ensue  ;  but  the  more  it  bruises,  the  less  it  rebounds.  It  does 
but  just  open  and  separete  their  surfaces,  but  not  to  so  great  a  distance, 
Vol.   r  94 


746  APPENDIX. 

but  that  they  immediately  close  again,  after  the  violence  of  the  stroke  is 
over.  And  so  it  is  in  the  former  instance-  Though  the  particles  of  the 
bo:^v  A  B  C  D,  at  D,  seem  to  be  thrnst  together,  yet  they  are  not  quite 
put  out  of  their  natural  place,  not  so  much  but  that  their  strong  tendency  to 
their  fellows,  immediately  brings  them  to  the  same  places  again.  If  they 
are  quite  dispossessed  of  their  placos,  the  body,  will  not  recover  itself 
again,  as  we  see  if  the  body  be  too  much  bent.  So  that,  what  alteration 
there  is.  among  the  particles  at  D,  may  help  the  Elasticity,  as  well  as  th& 
attractions  of  the  particles  at  B. 

A  body,  whose  particles  are  firmly  united,  cannot  be  smitten  by  another 
body,  so  as  to  make  an  impression  upon  it,  but  ^^ 

that  the  particles  near  the  surface,  where  the 
impression  is  made,  will  have  their  surface  drawn 
fr(;m  each  other.  For  histance,  let  ABC  D, 
be  the  range  of  partjcU-s  of  a  body,  that  before 
was  round,  but  has  an  impression  made  by  the 
stroke  of  another  body  at  B.  It  is  evident  that 
the  particles  at  B,  will  gape  even  inwards,  as  in 
the  figure,  and  the  particles  at  A,  and  C,  will 
gape  outwards;  and  that  by  their  mutual  attrac- 
tion, they  will  recover  thems<  Ives  again,  and 
thereby  bnng  the  body  A  B  C  D,  to  its  former 
roundness  ;  which  will  cast  back  the  body  that 
struck  it,  with  the  same  celerity,  as  its  surface  at 
B  recovers  itself. 

Now  it  is  probable,  that  rays  of  light  are  par- 
ticularly formed,  by  the  curious  hand  that  made  them,  for  this  Elasticity. 

71.  ABYSS.  It  is  undoubted,  that  there  is  a  vast  Abyss  of  water  under  us, 
above  which,  the  surface  of  the  Earth  is  stretched  forth,  and  on  which  it 
rests;  and  it  must  undoubtedly  be  heavier,  than  the  matter  of  the  upper 
shell.  Undoubtedly,  also,  the  springs  and  fountains  are  much  caused,  by 
the  ascent  of  this  water,  in  the  chinks  of  the  ground,  streaming  up  by  vir- 
tue of  the  central  heat,  and  therefore,  that  there  is  a  communication  be- 
tween the  Abyss  and  the  Sea.  But  if  it  be,  by  its  own  nature,  heavier 
than  the  Earth,  it  is  inconceivable  how  it  should  become  lighter,  when  it 
has  ascended  to  the  surface,  and  is  condensed  in  springs,  and  even  as  light 
as  other  water.  And  if  it  could  be  so,  how  should  any  of  this  water  ever 
return  to  mix  with  the  water  of  the  Ab3'ss  again,  by  any  communication 
that  the  sea  has  with  it,  or  any  of  the  sea  water,  in  the  room  of  it  ?  For 
the  great  difference  in  the  specific  gravity,  will  forever  hinder  any  mixtion 
or  communication;  and  at  this  rate, the  Abyss  would  in  time  be  exhausted 
of  us  dense  and  heavy  fluid,  and  filled  with  lighter  in  the  room  of  it,  or  the 
world  would  be  overflowed  by  a  second  Deluge. 

There  is  no  other  way,  therefore,  than  that  this  water,  when  it  is  in  the 
Abyss,  in  consequence  of  pressure,  is  heavier  than  earth;  but  when  it  is 
upon  the  surface,  and  the  pressure  is  removed,  it  becomes  lighter,  as  other 
water.  And  when  it  returns  there  again,  or  the  water  of  the  sea  in  the 
room  of  it,  it  becomes  as  heavy  as  it  was  before  :  which  can  be  no  other- 
wise than  by  compression.  And  if  water  be  a  body,  that  is  capable  of  any 
compression  by  any  m^^ans,  doubtless  it  is  compressed  by  that  prodigious 
force  to  which  it  is  subjected,  by  the  w^eight  of  a  body,  of  water,  of  four  or 
five  hundred  miles  thickness,  incumbent  upon  it.  If  we  cannot  compress 
wa'er  bn\.  very  little,  or  not  at  all,  it  is  certainly  merely  for  want  of 
strength;  for  all  cotnpoundcd  bodies,  that  have  not  an  absoh  te  plenitude, 
are  undoubtedly  capable  of  compression ;  their  particles  can  be  squeezed 


wm 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  74t 

nearer  together,  and  closer  one  among  another,  if  there  be  but  force  suffi- 
cient. Especially  is  this  true  of  water,  which  is  so  rare  a  body,  so  much 
rarer  than  many  other  bodies,  whichi  yet  we  know  have  not  a  pleni- 
tude, as  gold  and  quicksilver.  I  doubt  not,  therefore,  that  so  great  a 
force  will  be  enough,  stitflciently  to  compress  water.  I  suppose  that  no 
experiments,  that  have  yet  been  tried,  will  prove,  but  that  such  a  force  iis 
sufficient  to  make  water  five  times  as  dense  and  specifically  heavy,  as  the- 
earth  of  this  upper  shell.  And  if  it  be  so,  it  will  be  enough  to  support  the 
weight  of  it ;  as  we  see  the  air  here  that  is  compressed,  support  many 
things  that  are  a  thousand  times  heavier  than  air  would  be,  had  it  libtrtj 
to  expand   itself.     And  seeing  ^ 

this  body  of  earth  is  a  solid  bo-  __J^  

dy,  by  this  means,  the   surface  ^^^jj^j^  -"^i^^;^^:^!^! 

of  it  may  be  kept  above  the 
surface  of  the  sea,  though  light- 
er than  itself;  as  if  quicksilver 
and  oil  be  put  into  the  same 
vessel,  and  a  stone  thrown  in, 
the  quicksilver  may  keep  the 
top  of  the  stone,  it  being  solid, 
above  the  surface  of  the  oil. 
Yea,  it  is  possible,  that  al- 
though the  earth  is  much  den- 
ser than  the  water,  in  its  natu- 
ral state,  yet,  that  the  water 
by  its  own  weight,  may  so  com- 
press itself,  as  10  bear  the  top  of  a  column  of  earth,  above  its  surface.  For 
instance,  suppose  A  B  C  D  to  be  a  body  of  water,,  in  which,  is  a  column 
of  earth,  of  equal  height,  E  F.  Let  the  water  as  far  as  G  H,  not  half  to 
the  bottom,  be  lighter  than  earth,  and  below  G  H,  as  much  heavier.  It  is 
manifest,  that  the  column  of  earth,  E  F,  will  float,  and  the  top  of  it  be  lift- 
ed above  the  water;  because  a  column  of  the  water  of  equal  size  taken 
together,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom,  is  heavier  than  the  column  of  earth ; 
and  if  the  column  is  vastly  deeper,  so  as  to  reach  to  I,  it  is  all  one. 

But  according  to  this  hypothesis,  it  is  manifest,  that,  if  there  be  any  pas.- 
sages  or  chinks  in  the  incumbent  earth,  the  water  will  ascend  in  them,  till 
it  is  even  with  the  surface  of  the  sea,  but  no  higher;  so  that  the  chinks  of 
this  upper  earth  that  have  an  outlet  at  the  Abyss,  are  full  of  water,  so  far 
as  to  be  even  with  the  surface  of  the  oceaii :  not  with  salt  water;  for 
there  is  no  need  that  the  water  of  the  Abyss  should  be  salt,  because  it  has 
a  communication  with  the  sea,  for  the  water  of  the  sea,  at  a  very  great 
depth,  is  found  not  to  be  salt. 

72.  SALTNESS  OF  THE  OCEAN.  The  Saltness  of  the  Ocean 
will  not  seem  a  matter  difficult  to  us,  if  we  consider,  1.  That  the  Earth 
has  innumerable  veins,  beds,  and  parcels  of  fossil  and  mineral  matter,  that 
is  capable  of  being  dissolved  by,  and  mixed  with,  water:  2.  That,  as  tlie 
sea  covers,  and  washes,  and  soaks  so  great  a  part  of  the  world,  it  is  im- 
possible, but  that  a  very  great  number  of  these  veins  and  beds,  should  be 
soaked  and  v/ashed  by  the  water  of  the  sea:  3.  That  some  of  these  fos- 
sils will,  of  themselves,  dissolve  in  water,  and  mix  with  it,  and  especially, 
Salt,  more,  perhaps,  than  any  other :  4.  That  some  of  these  particles/if 
they  be  separated,  and  mixed  with  water,  will  again  precipitate,  and  the 
water  wdl,  in  time,  cleanse  itself  from  them;  but  Salt  will  never  precipi- 
tate  itself,  on  the  contrary,  if  it  li^s  at  the  bottom  of  the  water,  it  will  of 
itself  ascend,  and  diffuse  itself  all  over  the  water,  and  will  not  afterwardii 


748  A1*PE>JD1X. 

precipitate,  tor  if  it  should  precipitate,  its  nature  must  be  changed.  What 
else  should  cause  that,  which  before  ascended  of  itself,  and  diffused  itself 
in  water,  now  to  precipitate,  and  separate  itself  fiom  the  water.  And 
perhaps,  no  other  particles,  that  are  to  be  found  in  any  considerable  plenty 
ill  the  earth,  except  Salt,  are  of  such  a  nature,  that  they  will,  of  them- 
selves, diffuse  themselves  in  water,  and  so  continue,  without  either  preci- 
pitating again,  or  gathering  at  the  top,  or  some  way  separating.  Other 
particles  may  do  so,  because  they  are  united  to  particles  of  Salt,  as  the 
particles  of  Alum,  and  other  things,  that  very  much  consist  of  salt  parti- 
cles. But  yet,  it  is  probable,  that,  in  length  of  time,  these  foreign  parti- 
cles, being  disengaged  from  the  Salt,  may  precipitate,  or  ascend,  and  leave 
only  pure  Salt.  5.  It  must  be  considered,  that  Salt  will,  of  itself,  dis- 
solve, and  mix  itself  with  water  to  such  a  degree,  that  the  water  is,  as  it 
were,  satisfied ;  and  then,  how  much  Salt  soever  is  thrown  in,  it  precipi- 
tates, and  refuses  to  mix  with  the  water.  6.  It  follows,  from  these  con- 
siderations, that,  except  the  water  of  the  eea  be  so  full  of  Salt,  that  it  can 
hold  no  more,  all  the  Salt,  that  ever  happens  to  mix  with  the  water  of  the 
sea,  will  be  there  retained.  7.  It  follows,  that,  if  the  water  be  not  satu- 
rated with  Salt,  or  has  not  as  many  salt  particles  as  it  can  retain,  that  the 
water  of  the  sea  could  never  yet  come  at  Salt  enough,  to  saturate  it ;  and 
that,  though  all  the  Salt  that  the  sea  washes,  and  all  the  salt  particles 
that  ever  were  in  any  way  carried  into  the  sea,  are  now  combined  with  the 
water  of  the  sea,  yet,  there  is  not  enough  to  saturate  it,  masmuch  as  it 
retains  all  that  it  gets,  until  it  be  satisfied.  8.  It  may  be  considered,  that, 
besides  the  Salt,  which  is  diffused  in  the  sea,  from  those  beds  which  the 
sea  washes,  it  holds  all  the  saline  particles,  that  are  carried  into  it  by  all 
the  rivers;  and,  though  they  should  be  but  few  in  a  little  time,  yet,  be- 
cause the  sea  discharges  itself  of  them  no  more,  but  the  water,  when  it 
returns,  by  exhalation  or  otherwise,  leaves  them  behind,  coming  forth  per- 
fectly fresh,  in  whole  ages,  the  rivers  would  carry  in  enough  to  make  the 
sea  salt.  For  there  are  a  multitude  of  salt  particles  in  the  upper  mould 
of  the  earth,  as  appears,  in  that  plants  have  so  much  Salt  in  their  constitu- 
tion. And  the  rivers  must  needs  bring  a  multitude  of  these:  especially, 
in  times  that  they  overflow  their  banks,  great  quantities  must  be  carried 
into  the  rivers  by  rains,  and  the  melting  of  snows :  so  that,  it  is  impossible, 
but  that  the  Sea,  in  process  of  time,  should  be  salt. 

73.  EXHALATIONS.  Relating  to  No.  57.  I  do  not  know  whether 
any  other  liquid  is  exhaled  after  this  manner.  Oil,  we  know,  may  be  ex- 
haled, though  very  difficultly  and  slowly  ;  and  whether  it  be  by  bubbles  I 
cannot  tell.  I  believe  that  nothing  but  what  is  liquid  is  exhaled,  or  caused 
l)y  heat,  or  the  sunbeams,  to  ascend  in  the  Atmosphere  after  this  manner, 
by  being  rarified  so  as  to  be  buoyed  up  by  the  mere  weight  of  the  Atmos- 
phere ;  because  the  properties  of  a  liquid  body  seem  necessary  to  such  a 
rarefaction.  For,  in  order  to  the  being  capable  of  such  a  rarefaction  by 
the  sunbeams,  it  is  necessary  that  the  body  should  easily  receive  the  im- 
pression of  rays,  to  diffuse  it  abroad  or  to  expand  its  parts:  and  yet  the 
parts  must  so  cling  one  to  another  as  totally  to  exclude  the  circumjacent 
air  from  filling  the  places  that  were  left  empty  by  that  expansion.  For, 
how  much  soever  the  parts  are  expanded,  yet  if  air  comes  in  between  the 
scattered  parts,  there  will  not  be  less  matter  or  weight  within  its  bounds, 
than  in  alike  quantity  of  the  rest  of  the  air,  and  so  the  rarified  body  would 
not  ascend  in  the  air. 

And  vet  I  am  very  far  from  thinking,  that  there  are  none  but  liquid  ex- 
halations, or  that  no  bodies  are  caused  to  ascend  into  the  air  by  the  sun- 
beams, but  liquids,  or  that  liquids  are  the  vehicles  to  all  exhalations.     I  bo- 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  749 

lieve  that  particles  of  every  kind  are  caused,  by  the  siinbeaiils,  to  diffuse 
themselves  all  over  the  Atmosphere,  after  the  same  manner  as  odours  are 
diff'used,  and  those  constituent  parts  of  the  Atmosphere,  which  we  spake  of 
when  treatinor  of  the  Atmosphere.  (See  No.  56.)  And  it  is  easy  to  con- 
ceive, that  many  of  those  particles,  when  a  sufficient  number  of  them  hap- 
pen i:o  get  together,  should  be  capable  of  creating  heat  after  the  same 
manner  as  the  particles  of  the  Sun,  and  to  any  degree  of  intenseness,  and 
with  any  degree  of  suddenness. 

74.  CLOUDS.  I  think  I  have  not  seen  it  explained,  with  respect  to 
the  clouds,  why  they  are  terminated  by  such  even  and  distinct  bounds : 
especially  in  those  clouds  that  we  call  Thunder-clouds.  The  clouds  are 
nothing  else  but  vapours,  that  are  drawn  up  from  all  parts  of  the  s»a  and 
earth,  and,  one  would  think,  should  be  scattered  every  where  in  the  air  in- 
discriminately, so  as  to  thicken  the  whole  upp#r  region  of  the  air.  Or,  if 
the  air  wece  thickened  by  them  in  one  place  more  than  in  another,  be- 
cause a  greater  number  of  vapours  are  drawn  up  from  some  parts  of  t4ie 
earth  than  others;  yet,  as  they  fly  loose  in  the  air,  one  would  think  they 
should  be  terminated  very  gradually,  growing  thinner  and  thinner  by  little 
and  httle,  till  at  last  it  should  be  so  thin  that  it  could  not  be  discovered. 
But,  instead  of  that,  we  see  the  clouds  terminated  by  very  distinct  surfa- 
ces and  bounds.  They  are  extended  thus  far,  and  then  cease  at  once,  and 
all  beyond  is  clear  air.  Sometimes  indeed,  the  air  is  thus  universally 
thickened,  as  when  Halos  or  Parhelions  appear  ;  but  afterwards  these  va- 
pours gather  into  distinct  heaps  and  thick  clouds. 

I  do  not  know,  that  this  can  be  explained  any  other  way,  than  by  the  mu- 
tual attraction  of  the  parts  of  the  vapour,  that  they  thus  run  together,  and 
make  such  distinct  heaps.  The  only  difficulty  is.  How,  according  to  the 
laws  and  just  proportion  of  attraction,  the  attraction  of  such  exceedingly 
small  parcels  of  matter  to  each  other,  should  be  great  enough  to  explain 
this.  To  this  I  answer.  That  the  attraction  n^ed  to  be  but  exceedingly 
small,  to  make  these  parcels  to  draw  nearer  and  nearer  together,  so  fast  as 
is  needful  to  suppose  they  do,  when  they  hang  so  free  in  the  air,  when  tfie 
air  is  so  thin,  and  they  so  high,  and  their  mutual  attraction  is  so  little  hin- 
dered by  the,  attraction  of  other  bodies.  If  we  suppose  that  two  bubbles, 
that  are  at  the  distance  of  an  hundredth  part  of  an  inch,  moye  so  fast  to- 
wards each  other,  as  to  get  together  in  three,  four,  five  or  six  hours,  it 
will  be  enough. 

When  there  is  a  very  still  and  calm  air,  and  the  vapours  are  ascended 
very  high,  whence  they  are  more  at  liberty,  we  see  them  collected  into 
parcels  nearly  of  an  equal  bigness,  and  at  an  equal  distance ;  so  that 
-the  heavens  appear  checquered  with  them.  This  is  the  very  natural  effect 
of  this  mutual  attraction.  After  the  same  manner,  when  we  breathe  upon 
glass  ;  though  at  first  the  vapour  is  every  where  equally  spread  over  the 
glass ;  yet  the  particles,  by  their  mutual  attraction,  presently  run  into  such 
like  parcels. 

75.  RAIN.  The  reason  why  the  wunds,  that  blow  from  the  coasts, 
bring  rain,  is  not  merely  because  they  are  more  impregnated  with  watery 
vapours;  for  such  winds  will  thicken  the  air  with,  clouds,  in  regions  very 
remote  from  the  sea,  as  soon  as  they  begin  to  blow,  before  they  can  possi-. 
bly  bring  any  vapours  so  far.  And  besides,  if  that  were  the  only  reason,  it 
would  always  rain  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean.  But  the  reason  seems  to  be 
this  :  When  the  wind  blows  from  the  sea,  towards  the  mediterranean  re- 
(?ions,  the  stream  of  the  air  is  itp  hill,  so  as  it  is  when  the  wind  passes  ove^ 


750  APPENDIX. 

a  mountain.     The  vapours  are  suddenly  lifted  so  high  by  the  wind,  that  the 
air  IS  too  thin  to  support  them.     You  may  see  the  reason  of  it  plainly  thus  : 

When  the  air  is  in  equilibro 
on  the  continent,  A  B,  the  strata  C 
of  air  lie  thus  parallel,  as  C  D-A, 
So  that  when  the  wind  blows 
from  B,  the  sea  coast,  towards 
A,  the  midland,  the  vapours  are 
carried  continually,  from  a  low- 
er and  more  dense  medium,  to 
a  higher  and  thinner,  and  at 
length  to  one  that  is  too  thin  to 
suppurt  them.  But  as  the  con- 
trary, occurs  when  the  wind  blows  from  A  to  B,the  vapours  are  not  allhoist- 
ed,  but  carried  into  a  thicker  region,  that  is  better  able  to  support  them, 
and  then  it  is  fair  weather. 

76.  WINTER.  The  reason,  why  there  are  more  frequent  and  violent 
winds  in  winter  than  in  summer,  is,  because  the  air  by  reason  of  cold 
being  more  dense,  hangs  together,  and  does  not  give  way  but  in  a  body. 

Winters  are  very  useful  upon  this  account,  that  the  frost  loosens  the  soil 
every  year,  which  otherwise  would  bake  down  very  hard. 

77.  ICE.  COLD.  Those  Nitrous  particles,  that  are  said  to  be  thrust 
into  the  water,  in  the  process  of  freezing,  do  not  keep  themselves  immove- 
able after  the  manner  of  wedges,  by  filling  up  the  spaces  between,  so  that 
they  shall  not  have  room  to  play  and  move  freely  among  themselves ;  for 
this  hypothesis  still  leaves  the  matter  mexplicable.  Fori.  It  is  inexpli- 
cable how  these  wedges  should  thrust  themselves  in  so  fast,  into  a  heap  of 
particles  so  exceedingly  moveable,  that  they  cannot  be  stirred  at  all :  how 
these  wedges  should  be  of  so  happy  a  shape,  and  should  so  happily,  each  of 
them,  find  a  vacuity  among  the  vacuities  of  the  water,  exactly  accommo- 
dated to  their  shape,  as  to  completely  fill  them  up,  so  that  of  all  these 
little  rolling  slippery  particles  none  can  stir  at  all,  insomuch  that  that, which 
was  before  a  liquid  body,  shall  not  only  be  made  something  more  solid  like 
clay,  but  should  be  so  hard,  as  not  to  give  way  without  breaking.  Let  us 
suppose,  for  the  easiness  of  conceiving,  that  the  particles  of  water  were  as 
big  as  peas.  Let  the  frigid  particles  be  as  big  in  proportion,  but  otherwise 
having  all  the  same  qualities.  Let  a  multitude  of  freezing  particles  be  ho- 
vering in  the  air,  over  this  heap  of  globules.  It  is  very  probable  that  many 
of  ♦^^hem  would  get  in  among  the  globules,  so  that  perhaps  they  would  not 
slip,  and  roll  one  over  another,  so  easily  for  it.  But  it  is  inconceivable  how 
these  Nitrous  particles,  being  hard,  should  so  be  accommodated  to  the 
angled  vacuities,  that  all  the  vacuities  should  be  so  filled,  that  the  heap  of 
globules  should  be  so  hard  as  to  bear  a  great  weight,  a  hard  shock,  without 
any  impression  being  made  upon  it.  But  it  would  be  yet  more  strange  if 
it  was  evident,  that  there  was  more  vacuity,  now,  in  the  heap  of  globules, 
than  before,  and  yet  none  of  the  globules  should  have  room  to  stir;  which 
yet  is  certainly  the  case  in  water,  as  all  know,  ice  being  lighter  than 
water. 

But  this  matter  of  freezing  may  be  easily  solved,  from  the  certain  princi- 
ples foregoing,  of  the  strong  attraction  of  particles,  one  to  another. 
Wherefore,  to  solve  the  matter,  we  shall  first  lay  down  the  following 
axioms. 

Ax.  1.  Since  particles  of  matter  tend  to  each  other,  as  we  have  shown, 
it  is  evident,  that  every  part  of  the  surface  of  one  particle,  tends  to  touch 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  751 

the  surface  of  another  near  it,  and  would  toiich  it,  if  it  were  not  hindered 
by  protuberances,  or  otherwise. 

Ax.  2.  Tiierefore,  if  a  particle  that  is  near  to  another  particle,  be 
flexible,  so  that  it  can  accommo^late  its  figure  and  surface  to  th»  scriace 
of  the  particlp  attracting-  it ;  it  will,  by  so  accommodoting  it?elf,  and  bt*iiig 
thereby  brought  abundantly  nearer,  and  approaching-  it  in  innumerable 
points,  if  it  be  denser,  according  to  the  foregoincr  principles,  cleave  ex> 
ceeding  fast  to  it,  and  will  not  be  easily  separated  from  it. 

Ax.  3.  If  one  of  these  flexible  particles  lies  between  two  or  more  par- 
ticles, it  will,  for  the  same  reason,  accommodate  itpelf  to  all  their  surfaces ; 
and,  filling  up  the  vacuity,  if  it  be  not  too  big.  ^^  ill  cleave  fast  to  them  all, 
and  they  all  will  cleave  fast  to  that.  However  easily  separable  they  were 
before,  yet  now,  they  will  all  be  held  together  by  this.  And  if  the  vacuity 
be  too  big,  what  one  particle  can't  do,  two  or  more  can. 

Ax.  4.  If  many  of  these  particles  were  dispersed  in  the  vacuities  of  a 
mass  of  particles,  otherwise  moveable,  they  would  hold  the  whole  immo- 
veable, one  against  another. 

Ax.  5.  And  if  these  particles  are  not  flexible,  with  such  a  flexibleness 
as  that  of  leather,  and  other  bodies  that  are  elastic,  and  are  easily  capable 
of  stretching,  and  compression,  as  well  as  impression ;  but  with  such  a 
flexibleness  as  that  of  clay — a  dead  flexibility,  without  being  capable  of 
rarefaction,  compression,  or  elasticity;  the  mass  of  particlest  hat  are  con- 
gealed by  it,  will  be  hard,  and  not  elastic. 

Ax.  6.  These  particles  will  be  capable  ofentermg  the  smallest  pores; 
for  the  same  quality  that  capacitates  them  to  accommodate  themselves  to 
the  surfaces  of  bodies,  makes  them  capable  of  being  accommodated  to 
pores  of  any  figure  or  dimensions. 

Ax.  7.  If  many  of  these  particles,  being  of  such  a  flexible  nature,  are 
hovering  over  an  heap  of  very  smooth  particles,  they  will  be  drawn  into 
their  vacuities,  by  the  attraction  of  those  particles,  after  the  same  manner 
as,  and  for  the  same  reason  as,  water  of  itself  ascends,  and  is  drawn  into 
very  small  glass  tubes. 

Ax.  8.  However  flexible  these  bodies  may  be,  by  their  own  attraction 
to  their  own  centers,  to  one  another,  or  to  other  particles;  yet,  they  may 
be  so  dense,  and  their  attraction  so  great,  that  a  considerable  mass  of  par- 
ticles, congealed  by  them,  shall  be  very  hard,  because  the  figure  cannot 
be  changed,  or  an  impression  made,  without  stirring  the  whole  mass  that 
is  contiguous,  and  so  contradicting  the  strong  attraction  of  a  multitude  of 
these  particles. 

And  after  this  manner,  I  suppose  Ice  is  made ;  and  the  only  thing  that 
remains  to  be  explained,  is — How  the  freezing,  which  fills  up  so  many  of 
its  pores,  should  yet  make  it  lighter,  or  more  rare?  Which  will  not  be 
difficult,  from  the  same  principles.  For  according  to  these  principles,  it  is 
not  at  all  probable,  that  the  mass  of  water  should  be  all  congealed  at 
once,  in  one  instant,  so  that  every  pore  will  be  filled  up  with  them  at  once  ; 
but  that,  as  these  particles  gradually  work  into  the  water,  they  will  be 
laiii  hold  of,  and  locked  together  by  parcels,  as  thecongealing  particles  get 
in,  till  at  length,  the  whole  mass  is  made  fast.  The  mass  is  stiffened  by 
parcels ;  which  parcels,  being  made  hard  ^.^  p-  ■  9. 

and    stubborn,     will    not    accommodate         ^'o'^'  I^ig.Z. 

themselves  to  the  vacuities  that  shall  be 
made  by  the  invincible  drawing  of  parti 
cles  out  of  their  seats,  by  these  frigid 
atoms  :  whereby,  a  multitude  of  vacuities 
will  unavoidably  be  made.  Supposing  a 
parcel  of  particles,  consisting  of  nineteen, 
should  becatched,  and  fastened  as  they  lie  in  this  form,  Fig.  1.     It  is  evi- 


75^ 


APPENDIX. 


dent,  that,  by  the  force  of  the  attraction  of  the  particles,  that  are  between 
in  their  pores,  these  frigid  particles  bein|j-  supposed  to  be  flexible  and  plia- 
ble, they  will  be  drawn  into  such  a  figure  as  this.  Fig.  2 ;  and  this  may  be 
done,  with  invincible  force. 

And  by  this  means,  vacuities  will  be  left  in  the  places  from  whence 
these  particles  were  drawn,  except  other  particles  of  water  come  in  their 
room.  But  perhaps  the  particles  in  the  neighbourhood,  are  stiffening  to- 
gether at  the  same  time ;  and,  instead  of  coming  to  fill  up  the  vacuities, 
made  by  the  congealing  of  this  parcel,  they  are  drawn  farther  off  them- 
selves, and  make  the  vacuity  greater.  Besides,  the  slides  of  the  parcel,  as 
it  conforms  itself  to  the  figure,  (Fig.  2.)  will  unavoidably  thrust  out  the 
neighbouring  particles,  from  their  places,  which,  perhaps,  are  congealed 
together  into  stiff  parcels.  Wherefore,  this  thrusting  must  necessarily 
cause  vacuities  in  another  direction,  by  displacing  of  these  new  inflexible 
parcels  of  water,  which  cause  the  like  displacing  through  the  whole  mass, 
as  far  as  particles  are  contiguous. 

Let  us  still  represent  the  matter  in  a  larger  figure,  for  clearer  illustra- 
tion. Let  us  suppose  the  vessel  A  B  C  D,  (Fig.  3.)  full  of  particles  of 
water,  into  which  the  particles  of  cold  getting,  glue  them  together,  by 
parcels,  of  all  manner  of  irregular  figures,  and  magnitudes  :  but  let  us  sup- 
pose for  the  present,  that  there  are^seven  in  a  parcel,  and  that  the  parcels 
be  those  which  we  have  marked  out  by  the  crooked  lines,  connecting  them. 
It  is  all  one,  as  to  the  room  they  take  up,  let  them  be  taken  in  any  other 
figure  whatever.     It  is  evident  that  they  will  be  drawn  into  this  form, 

Fig.  3.  ' 


Ficc.  4. 


(     \>Vf     V*-^-~-<(      :7'<-''"'=?       \y^>^     V''->-<    /■     Ji.,J      ) 


£ 


^  ^^^r^:^-.yX^ 


U 


(Fig.  4.)  and  that  they  cannot  lie  in  such  a  form,  without  far  greater  vacu- 
ities than  before,  and  that,  w-hen  they  are  brought  in  this  form,  the  sur- 
mce  of  the  water  must  be  considerably  lifted  above  the  brim  of  the  vessel, 
A  B  C  D,  and  the  water  will  take  up  much  more  room  than  before,  let 


N#TES    ON    NATURAL    SCtENCE.  75# 

them  lie  as  close  as  their  figures  will  allow  of.  These  vacuities  will  be 
greater  or  less,  ceteris  paribus,  according  as  the  parcels  concealed,  are 
greater  or  less. 

Now  it  is  very  evident,  from  the  foregoing  principles,  that  many  of  these 
parcels  may  be  drawn  into  one,  and  otlen  will,  as  we  see  many  bubbles 
upon  the  surface  of  water,  run  into  one.  For  instance,  the  gluing  parti- 
cles that  hold  together  the  parcel  O,  (Fig  4.)  may  happen  to  catch  hold  of 
the  parcel  G,  or  F,  and  thereby  they  will  be  drawn  into  one.  This  will 
be,  especially  upon  an  increase  of  cold,  or  the  incursion  of  a  great  plenty 
of  these  particles;  for  whereas  there  were  then  no  more  particles  than 
enough  to  hold  the  distinct  parcels  together,  a  greater  plenty,  by  filhng  up 
the  vacuities,  will  so  glue  them  together,  as  to  make  them  run  one  into 
another. 

Now  it  is  certain,  that,  however  hard  ice  is,  and  its  parts  immoveable, 
yet  an  increase  of  cold  does  make  an  alteration  in  the  disposition  of  its 
parts ;  for  it  makes  ice  swell  and  rise  up  like  boiling  water,  and  the  parts 
separate,  and  make  innumerable  air  holes.  And  it  is  also  certain,  that  this 
running  of  several  congealed  parts  into  one,  according  to  these  principles, 
would  cause  ice  to  swell,  and  take  up  more  room.  If  the  parcels  F,  G, 
and  O,  should  run  into  one,  and  together  form  themselves  into  a  globular 
figure,  this  could  not  be,  without  thrusting  the  parcels  H,  and  I,  higher. 
Nor  would  the  matter  be  made  up  by  the  subsiding  of  other  parts';  for 
the  whole  is  too  stiff  and  stubborn,  for  some  parts  to  come  in  the  room  of 
others  that  are  moved. 

It  will  also  follow,  naturally  and  necessarily,  from  the  same  principles, 
that  a  great  increase  of  cold  will  cause  cracks  in  the  ice;  for  suppose  the 
parcels  H,  I,  K,L,  and  0,by  an  increase  of  frigorifick  particles,  are  drawn 
into  one  parcel ;  It  is  evident  this  cannot  be,  without  thrusting  F,  and  G, 
and  the  parts  on  each  side,  farther  asunder.  And  if  there  be  the  force  of 
many  such  parcels  united,  near  together,  or  in  a  range,  we  may  suppose 
the  strength  will  be  sufiicient  to  make  a  crack  in  the  ice. 

From  the  same  principles,  it  is  evident  that,  if  the  congealing  matter 
get  among  particles  that  are  so  fixed,  that  they  cannot  be  drawn  out  of  the 
order  that  they  lie  in,  it  will  condense  them,  and  draw  them  within  closer 
bounds  ;  for  drawing  together,  it  is  evident  is  the  genuine  effect  of  them, 
and  that  expanding  and  rarifying  is  accidental,  and  is  caused  only  by 
changing  the  order  and  texture  of  the  particles.  By  drawing  together, 
therefore,  where  there  is  this  drawing  together  without  changing  of  order, 
there  will  be  condensing  without  rarifying :  so  it  is  well  known,  that  hard 
bodies  shrink  by  cold. 

And  seeing  the  natural  and  genuine  effect  of  this  frigorifick  matter  is 
to  draw  particles  together ;  and  rarifying  is  only  accidentally  caused  by 
change  in  position ;  it  is  evident,  that  if  those  particles  find  water  already 
far  more  rarifying,  and  its  particles  more  scattered,  than  such  a  position 
would  require,  as  in  clouds  and  vapours,  it  will  condense  them,  or  draw 
tiie  particles  together. 

Cold's  making  hard  bodies  brittle  is  also  easily  explained,  on  the  same 
principles.  It  is  evidently  done  by  taking  away  their  elasticity.  Before 
they  would  bend  and  not  break,  because  the  particles  were  not  so  im- 
moveable among  themselves,  but  what,  when  the  body  was  bent,  they 
could  move  somewhat  out  of  their  places  to  avoid  a  total  separation  of  one 
part  from  another,  so  that  there  should  be  no  crack.  But  these  particles, 
getting  in,  lock  them  so  fast  together,  that  they  are  immoveable. 

Though  there  seems  to  be  a  necessity  of  supposing  some  such  frigori- 
fick particles,  in  order  to  explain  the  freezing  of  Water;  yet  there  ap- 
pears no  manner  of  need  of  it  at  all,  in  order  to  explain  the  consolidating 

Vol.  I.  95 


754  APPENDIX. 

of  Wax  or  Tallow;  for  their  particles  seem  to  be  of  such  a  figure,  that 
they  tend  of  themselves  to  stick  together,  and  that  it  is  only  the  active 
particles  of  heat,  that  keeps  them  from  adhering  one  to  another,  as  in 
metals,  and  in  stones,  sand,  and  ashes,  which  are  all  capable  of  liquefac- 
tion. But  if  the  particles  of  water  are  as  apt  to  cleave  together,  as  those 
of  wax,  they  will  need  as  much  heat  to  keep  them  asunder.  But  if  not  so 
much,  why  do  they  cleave  so  much  more  strongly,  when  they  cleave  at  all. 
And  yet,  without  doubt,  these  frigorifick  particles  cause  wax  and  tallow 
to  be  more  solid  than  they  would  be  of  themselves. 

From  the  foregoing  principles,  I  think  it  is  easy  to  account  for  that 
painful  sensation  that  is  caused  in  us,  which  we  call  cold ;  for  it  is  necessa- 
ry that  these  particles  should  bind  the  fluids  of  the  body,  and  interrupt  the 
motions  of  the  blood,  and  animal  spirits  ;  which  will  contract,  strain,  and 
pinch  up  the  vessels,  the  veins  and  nerves,  and  most  especially  the  capil- 
lary ones. 

For  this  reason.  Water  is  not  so  transparent  when  frozen,  and  Fat  when 
consolidated  with  cold,  because  the  particles  are  so  drawn  together  as  to 
have  vacuities. 

It  is  also  easy  and  natural  to  suppose,  that  those  exceedingly  active  par- 
ticles, which  cause  Heat,  should  disengage  those  frigorific  particles  from 
others,  to  which  they  cleave,  and  thereby  set  them  at  liberty  again. 

78.  ATMOSPHERE,  ITS  QUALITIES.  That  different  quality  of 
the  air  in  some  particular  regions  or  towns,  at  particular  times,  that  some- 
times causes  some  mortal  distemper  to  rage  in  such  a  place,  that  is  not 
a  contagious  or  catching  distemper,  when  other  places,  not  far  off,  are 
free,  though  the  winds  every  day  pass  over  them,  that  remove  the  whole 
air  out  of  those  towns,  a  great  many  times  in  a  day,  and  scatter  it  to  many 
other  places;  may  arise  from  noxious,  poisonous  vapours  and  steams,  that 
are  (breathed  out  at,  or  near,  such  places,  from  the  subterraneous 
caverns  of  the  Earth,  through  the  various  vents  and  breathing  places,  that 
are  every  where  in  the  upper  shell  of  the  Earth,  such  as  springs,  and 
wells,  and  other  imseen  chasms.  In  the  time  of  earthquakes  they  say 
they  can  smell  sulphur;  whicii  must  be  by  the  steam  of  it  coming  up 
through  these  secret  vents. 

79.  SUN.  The  Sun  appears  to  me,  to  be  a  Liquid  Body,  at  least  at  its 
surface,  and  to  a  great  deplh,  for  three  reasons  : 

1.  That  disposition  of  parts  seems  to  me  to  be  abundantly  the  most 
commodious,  for  the  generation  and  preservation  of  that  most  prodigious 
intestine  motion  of  its  parts,  which  is  the  cause  of  so  great  light  and  heat. 
If  it  be  a  hard,  solid  body,  then  most  of  its  parts  are  fixed,  and  move  not, 
and  so  partake  of  no  intestine  motion.  We  do  not  see  fire  generated 
spontaneously,  and  of  itself,  in  such  hard,  solid  bodies  as  iron  and  stones  ; 
Ijut  either  in  fine  powders  or  liquids ;  whose  parts  lie  loose  and  are  easily 
put  into  a  violent  motion,  and  are  preserved  therein  the  same  way  that  it 
^as  generated.  If  the  Sun  be  a  solid  body,  like  stone  or  iron,  and  all 
these  particles,  in  which  is  this  violent  intestine  motion,  in  its  pores ;  they 
would  not  have  fair  play. 

2.  I  suppose  that  those  aherations,  which  are  observed  in  the  surface  of 
the  Sun,  by  the  aid  of  the  Telescope,  do  not  so  well  ;igree  with  a  body, 
whose  parts  are  solid  and  immoveable,  as  with  a  body  that  has  all  its  parts 
lymg  loose. 

3.  Because  we  know  of  no  substance,  but  what  would  immediately  be- 
come liquid,  with  such  a  degree  ot  heat.  We  see  nothing,  but  what  would 
fiQelt  with  a  thousand  times  less  degree  of  heat,  and  with  heat  far  less  sub* 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCR.  755 

tile  and  penetrating.  We  see  nothing,  but  what  wil!  dissolve,  and  its 
parts  loose  one  from  another,  by  little  and  little,  with  a  slow  fire.  What 
strange  sort  of  body  therefore  must  that  be,  which  will  endure  such  a 
degrse  of  heat,  so  many  ages,  and  not  be  dissolved. 

It  may  seem  strange,  that  the  light  of  the  Sun,  which  we  suppose  to  be 
nothing  but  the  light  of  a  great  fire,  should  be  so  exceedingly  different 
from  the  light  of  all  fires  upon  Earth,  that  is  so  much  brighter  and  whiter. 
This  may  be  explained  as  follows  : 

1.  As  to  its  great  brightness,  it  is  nothing  but  what  naturally  results 
from  the  bigness  of  the  Sun,  and  that  in  two  ways  :  (1.)  The  fire  being  so 
big,  will  naturally  and  necessanily  cause  every  part  of  this  fire  to  be  im- 
mensely hotter  and  brighter,  than  otherwise  it  would  be.  If  a  foot  square 
of  the  Sun  be  very  hot  of  itself,  it  will  be  immensely  hotter  when  it  is  en- 
compassed, on  every  side,  with  the  same  degree  of  heat,  for  many  thou- 
sands of  miles.  It  is  certain,  that  all  the  circumjacent  parts  of  the  fire  add 
heat  to  It  inversely,  according  to  the  square  of  the  distance;  and  so  make 
it  brighter,  as  well  as  hotter.  It  is  evident  that,  if  a  space  in  the  Sun,  of 
a  foot  square,  be  filled  with  particles,  that  are  very  violently  agitated  in 
themselves,  yet,  if  to  this  agitation,  there  be  added  the  heat  of  many  thou- 
sands of  miles  of  a  circumjacent  fire,  they  will  be  more  agitated,  and  there- 
fore these  particles,  that  are  sent  out,  will  leap  forth  so  much  the  more 
briskly;  that  is,  the  light  and  heat  will  be  so  much  the  greater.  (2.)  What 
will  naturally  exceedingly  promote  the  light  and  heat,  is,  the  prodigious 
presence  of  the  Sun's  Atmosphere,  which  is  incomparably  greater  than 
that  of  the  Earth's  Atmosphere.  And  however  the  Atmosphere  next  the 
Sun  be  very  rare,  by  means  of  the  prodigious  heat,  to  rarify  it;  yet,  the 
Renixus  is  never  the  less  for  that,  if  action  and  reaction  are  equal.  We 
know  that  the  renixus  of  the  Air  promotes  light  and  heat :  thus  we  see 
that  fire  is  extinguished  by  the  withdrawing  of  air. 

2.  As  to  the  Whitness  of  the  Sun's  light,  Sir  Isaac  Newton  has  demon- 
strated, that  it  consists  in  a  proportionate  mixture  of  rays  of  all  colours. 
And  from  what  has  before  been  said.  Redness  and  Yellowness  are  caused 
by  the  rays  being  of  greater  bulk.  And  we  see  that  the  light  of  culinary 
fires  and  of  candles  is  reddish  and  yellowish,  consisting  mostly  of  the  big- 
ger sort  of  rays.  '  And  seeing  the  Sun's  rays  are  white,  it  must  be  because 
there  is  a  greater  proportion  of  blue  and  green.  And  this  also  will  be  the- 
natural  effect  of  the  prodigious  bulk  and  greater  heat  of  the  Sun.  The 
more  violent  the  agitation  and  repercussion  of  the  particles  is,  the  more 
effectually  will  their  parts  be  separated  and  their  rays  made  fine.  We 
know  that  this  does  whiten  rays,  from  experience ;  for  the  more  glowing 
and  hot  a  fire  is,  the  more  white  is  its  light.  But  there  will  ensue  no 
manner  of  difficulty,  if  we  suppose  that  the  particles  of  the  Sun  were  made 
at  first  fine,  and  the  rays  therefore  whiter.  We  see  brimstone  burns 
blue,  and  coals  red  :  and  why  may  there  not  be  a  body,  that  has  a  mixture 
©f  both,  to  cause  white. 

The  interior  parts  of  the  Sun  are  compressed  with  immense  force,  by 
the  parts  incumbent :  incomparably  more  than  the  interior  parts  of  the 
Earth,  by  the  incumbent  Earth  ;  for  the  quantity  of  incumbent  matter  is 
supposed  to  be  at  least  600,000  times  greater,  and  the  incumbent  weight 
has  its  full  force  upon  the  parts  subjected,  being  kept  loose  and  fluid,  by 
the  heat.  The  interior  particles  of  the  Sun  being  therefore  preesed  to- 
gether, with  such  prodigious  violence,  we  may  suppose,  will  be  ground  all 
to  pieces,  into  particles  of  the  first  kind,  until  the  particles  are  so  hard  and 
solid,  that  so  great  a  force  can  break  them  no  more  : — doubtless  9.3  fine 


756  APPENDIX, 

and  as  solid  as  the  particles  of  fire  and  rays  of  light  can  be  supposed 
to  be  : — and  perhaps  therefore,  every  way  of  the.  same  sort,  and  fitted  for 
the  same  motions,  and  to  produce  the  same  effects.  By  their  being  made 
80  fine,  and  pressed  together  with  such  violence,  they  must  needs,  to 
the  utmost,  be  exposed  to  each  other's  force,  whether  attracting  or 
propelling  .*  whence  will  arise  a  vehement  conflict,  and  a  fermenting  and 
agitation,  sufficiently  violent,  will  ensue,  to  make  that  prodigious  heat  and 
light,  and  will  be  constantly  preserved  by  the  same  pressire.  And  from 
tiie  Rays  being  so  exceedingly  fine,  it  may  arise  that  the  light  of  the  Sun 
is  white.  We  many  ways  find,  that  even  the  interior  parts  of  the  Earth 
do  diffuse  a  h  at,  though  not  sufficient  in  such  wise  to  dissolve  and  inflame 
the  whole  globe  ;  but  it  may  be  because  the  pressure  is  not  sufficient,  that 
the  Planets  are  not  globes  of  fire  as  well  as  the  Fixed  Stars. 

80.  LIOHT.  The  rays  of  Light,  however  small,  may  yet  be  so  com- 
pounded, of  lesser  Atoms,  as  that  they  m^y  be  very  elastic  bodies;  and 
yet  be  so  contrived,  as  by  that  gravity,  which  is  universal  to  them  and  all 
bodies,  they  may  run  together,  with  celerity  sufficient  to  cause  their  Re- 
flexion to  be  so  rapid  as  is  found. 

89.  COLOURS.  We  have  already  supposed  that  the  drfl:'erent  Re- 
frangibility  of  rays  arises  from  their  diflTerent  bulk.  We  have  also  sup- 
posed that  they  are  very  elastic  bodies.  From  these  suppositions  the  Co- 
lours of  natural  bodies  may  be  accounted  for  :  that  is.  Why  some  particles 
of  matter  reflect  such  a  sort  or  such  sorts  of  rays,  and  no  other.  The  dif- 
ferent density  of  particles,  whence  arises  a  different  attraction,  together 
with  their  different  firmness,  will  account  for  all.  Some  bodies  have  so 
little  of  firmness,  and  so  easily  give  w^ay,  that  they  are  able  to  resist  the 
stroke  of  no  rays,  but  the  least  and  weakest  and  most  reflexible  rays.  All 
the  other  rays,  that  are  bigger,  and  therefore  their  force  not  so  easily  resist- 
ed, overcome  t  he  resistance  of  the  particles  that  stand  in  their  way.  Such 
bodies,  therefore,  appear  blue,  as  the  atmosphere,  the  sky,  smoke,  etc. 
Again,  it  is  known  that  the  njost  refrangible  rays  are  most  easily  attracted, 
that  is  are  most  easily  stopped  and  divj^rted  by  attraction.  For,  as  has 
been  already  shown.  Refraction  and  Reflection  from  concave  surfaces  is 
by  attraction.  Because,  therefore,  the  most  refrangibile  rays  are  most  di- 
verted by  Refraction,  and  easiest  reflected  inward  from  a  concave  surface, 
and  most  diverted  by  passing  by  the  edges  of  bodies,  it  follows  that  attrac- 
tion has  most  influence  on  the  most  refrangible  rays. 

It  is  also  evident  that  the  parlicles  of  bodies,  that  are  the  most  dense, 
have  the  strongest  attraction.  The  particles  of  any  body,  therefore,  may 
be  so  dense,  and  attract  so  strongly,  as  to  hold  fast  all  the  lesser  and  more 
refrangible  rays,  so  that  they  shall  none  of  them  be  reflected,  but  only  the 
greater  rays,  on  which  the  attraction  of  these  particles  can  have  less  influ- 
ence.     Hereby  the  body  will  become  Red. 

And  as  for  the  intermediate  colours,  the  particle&  of  a  body  may  be  so 
dense,  as  to  hold  all  the  most  refrangible  rays,  and  may  not  be  firm  enough 
to  resist  the  stroke  ot  the  least  refrangible.  Hereby  the  body  may  become 
yellow,  or  green,  or  of  any  other  intermediate  colour. 

Or  a  body  may  be  coloured  by  the  reflection  of  a  mixture  of  rays.  The 
particles  of  the  body  may  be  able  to  reflect  three  or  four  sorts  of  rays,  and 
have  too  strong  an  attraction  to  reflect  those  rays  that  are  less,  and  too 
weak  a  resistance  to  reflv^ctthe  bigger  rays.  Or  the  colour  of  a  body  may 
be  compounded  of  reflected  rays,  of  very  different  degrees  of  refrangibility, 
and  not  reflect  any  of  the  intermediate  colours,  by  reason  of  its  being  com- 
pounded of  very  heterogeneous  particles,  which  have  very  different  de« 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  757 

grees  of  density  and  firmness. — Or  the  particles  of  a  body  may  be  firm 
enoug-h  to  reflect  all  sorts  of  rays,  and  yet  have  so  little  attraction  to  hold 
them  that  the  body  will  be  vvh.te.  Or  a  body  may  be  compounded  of  particles 
having-  so  little  resistance  as  '.o  reflect  no  rays,  or  of  so  great  density  as  to 
hold  all,  or  so  full  of  pores  as  to  drink  in  all.  Then  the  body  is  black.  Or 
the  particles  of  bodies  may  have  pores  and  hollows,  that  may  be  big  enough 
to  let  in  the  least  rays,  but  not  the  rest ;  so  that  the  pores  of  particles  may 
have  much  to  do  in  the  causing  of  colours. 

The  Blue  of  Mountains,  at  a  distance,  is  not  made  by  any  rays  reflected 
from  the  mountains,  but  from  the  air  and  vapours  that  are  between  us  and 
them.  The  mountain  occasions  the  blueness,  by  Intercepting  all  rays,  that 
would  come  from  beyond  to  disturb  that  colour  by  their  mixture. 

It  may  therefore  seem  a  difficulty,  why  the  Atmosphere  all  round  by  the 
horizon,  does  not  appear  very  blue;  seeingit  is  evident  that  the  Atmosphere 
reflects  chiefly  the  blue  rays,  as  appears  in  the  higher  parts  of  the  Atmos- 
phere by  the  blueness  of  the  sky,  and  near  the  Earth  by  the  blueness  of 
mountains,  and  the  redness  or  yellowness  of  the  rising  and  setting  Sun. 
It  should  therefore  seem  that  the  Atmosphere  should  appear  most  blue, 
where  no  rays  are  intercepted  by  mountains ;  because  the  Atmosphere  be- 
yond the  mountam  reflects  the  rays  as  well  as  on  this  side.  Therefore  it 
seems  at  first  that  there  would  be  more  blue  rays  come  to  eyes,  where  none 
were  intercepted  by  mountains,  and  consequently  that  the  most  lively  blue 
w^ould  be  there.  And  so  it  would  be,  if  blue  rays  came  to  aur  eyes  in  the 
same  proportion  that  they  are  reflected.  But  most  of  those  blue  rays, 
that  are  reflected  by  those  parts  of  the  Atmosphere,  that  are  at  a 
very  great  distance,  are  intercepted  by  the  intermediate  air,  before 
they  come  to  oureyes  ;  (for  the  air  by  supposition  intercepts  them  easiest;) 
and  only  those  few  yellow  rays  and  less  reflexible  rays,  that  are  reflected 
by  the  air,  come  to  oureyes  ;  whence  it  comes  to  pass  that  the  Atmosphere 
near  the  horizon,  does  not  appear  blue,  but  of  a  whitish  yellow;  and  some- 
times, when  it  is  filled  with  more  dense  exhalations,  that  can  reflect  less 
reflexible  rays,  still,  it  appears  a  little  reddish. 

82.  HALO.  The  reason  why  there  commonly  is  a  Circle,  about  the 
Sun  or  Moon,  a  little  before  falling  weather,  and  not  at  other  times,  is,  be 
cause  the  cavities  of  the  bubbles,  when  preparing  for  rain,  are  lessened, 
the  internal  air  losing  its  agitation  and  heat,  and  thereby,  the  skin  is  ne- 
cessarily made  thicker ;  from  whence  it  necessarily  follows,  that  a  greater 
proportion  of  rays  will  be  refracted.  When  the  skin  is  very  thin,  there 
are  but  very  few  rays,  but  what  go  twice  through  the  skin ;  but  we  have 
shown  that  only  those,  that  do  not  go  through  it  at  all,  are  the  rays  that 
constitute  the  circle. 

83.  LENS  ABOUT  THE  SUN.  That  vast  Lenticular  Haze,  or 
Mist,  which  appears  about  the  body  of  the  Sun,  seems  to  me  probable  to 
arise  thus.  The  Effluvia,  that  are  carried  oflf  from  the  opaque  bodies  of 
the  Solar  System,  and  especially  the  Comets,  by  their  being  carried  be- 
yond the  attractions  of  the  globes  they  proceed  from,  come  at  length  un- 
der the  government  of  the  Sun's  attraction  ;  and  so  these  particles,  by  vir- 
tue of  the  force  impressed  upon  them,  while  they  adhered  to  the  globes 
they  came  from,  conjunctly  with  that  that  carried  them  off*,  proceed  to  re- 
volve about  the  Sun.  And  their  motion  being  gradually  lessened,  by  the 
resistance  of  the  Ether,  their  orbits  are  gradually  contracted,  and  they  ga- 
ther up  about  the  Sun,  though  their  motion  is  retarded  so  gradually,  that 
it  is  a  long  time  before  they  come  quite  down  to  the  Sun's  body.  And 
the  reason,  why  the  planes  of  most  of  their  orbits  are  in,  or  near,  the  plane 


758 


APPENDIX. 


of  the  Zodiac,  is  this :  for  although  the  planes  of  the  orbits  of  the  Comets, 
cut  the  plane  of  the  Zodiac,  at  all  angles,  iudifferently,  so  that  we  sup- 
pose, that  the  planes  of  the  orbits  of  these  Effluvia,  are  at  first  inclined  to 
the  plane  of  the  Zodiac,  at  all  angles,  indifferently  ;  yet,  they  become  less 
and  less  inclined  to  it,  by  means  of  the  motion  of  the  Ether,  which  gradu- 
ally destroys  that  inclination.  For  the  Planets,  by  their  continual  revolu- 
tions, drive  and  draw  the  etherial  matter  round,  with  a  motion  parallel  to 
theirs.  For  one  Planet,  by  means  of  its  attractions,  and  by  means  of  the 
repelling  nature  of  the  particles  of  Ether,  whereby  like  the  air,  they  repel, 
and  keep  at  a  distance  from,  one  another ;  I  say,  by  these  means,  one  Pla- 
net moves  a  vast  mass  of  the  Etherial  matter,  and  the  Diurnal  Revolution 
of  the  Sun,  also  conspiring  with  the  Planets,  makes  the  whole  go  round 
in  a  vortex,  parallel  to  the  Zodiac.  And  it  is  easy  to  conceive,  how  this 
should  gradually  bring  the  revolutions  of  the  dispersed  particles  we  are 
speaking  of,  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  plane  of  theC  A. 

Zodiac.  Let  A  B  be  the  plane  of  the  Ecliptic.  Let  ^ 
C  U  be  the  plane  that  one  of  these  particles  first 
begins  to  revolve  in,  about  S  the  Sun.  It  is  plain, 
that  the  Etherial  matter,  turning  round  every  where 
parallel  to  A  B,  when  the  particle  is  in  the  part  of 
its  orbit  towards  D,  will  hinder  its  going  as  far  off 
from  A  B,  that  is,  from  the  plane  of  the  Zodiac,  as  it 
did  before,  and  will  a  little  impel  it  towards  B ;  and 
so,  when  it  comes  to  that  part  of  its  orbit  about  C, 
it  will  impel  it  a  little  nearer  to  A  ;  and  so  will  con- 
tinually make  its  revolution  to  be  nearer  tke  Zodiac. 
These  things  I  suppose  are  certain,  about  this 
Misty  Lens:  1st.  That  it  is  not  any  reflexion  or  re- 
fraction of  the  Atmosphere ;  because,  when  it  ap- 
pears, before  the  Sun  rises,  or  after  it  sets,  it  does 
not  always  appear  perpendicular  to  the  horizon,  but 
always  according  to  the  Zodiac  ;  therefore,  2d.  That 
it  must  be  a  reflection  of  the  Sun's  light,  from  some  matter  that  really  en- 
compasses the  body  of  the  Sun. 

84.  MOON.  There  is  a  very  evident  token  of  design  and  providence, 
in  the  exact  adjusting  of  the  diurnal  and  periodical  revolutions  of  the 
Moon.  For,  although  the  figure  of  the  Moon  is  somewhat  oval,  so  that 
that  diameter  of  the  Moon,  which,  if  prolonged,  passes  through  the  Earth's 
centre,  is  a  little  longer  than  the  other  diameter,  that  is  perpendicular  to 
it,  by  about  187  feet;  so  that  the  attraction  of  the  Earth,  by  this  means, 
would  preserve  this  exact  equality,  notwithstanding  very  small  disturban- 
ces ;  yet  except  the  forces,  that  first  gave  the  Moon  these  revolutions,  had 
been  very  exactly  equable,  this  small  inequality  of  the  diameters  would  in 
no  wise  have  kept  the  same  face  of  the  Moon  turned  towards  us ;  nor 
would  it  ever  have  reduced  the  revolutions  nearer  to  an  equality,  than  they 
were  at  first.  For,  except  the  disproportion  had  been  infinitely  small,  it 
would  have  been  suflicient  to  turn  the  Moon,  so  that  every  side  should  be 
turned  towards  us :  and  the  diurnal  revolution  would  have  bten  accelera- 
ted, every  time  the  longer  axis  of  the  Spheroid  began  to  be  turned  to- 
wards the  Earth,  so  as  to  point  to  it,  and  retarded  when  it  turned  from  it. 
Though  this  exact  equality  of  these  two  motions,  be  of  no  great  use  to  us, 
as  we  know  of;  yet,  probably,  it  is  of  great  use  to  them;  for  if,  in  its  revo- 
lutions, all  sides  of  the  Moon  were  turned  to  the  Earth,  the  seas,  if  there 
be  any,  would  be  raised  97  feet  high ;  which  Tide  would  probably  be  very 
destructive  to  the  surface  of  that  planet. 


NOTES    ON    NATURAL    SCIENCE.  759 

The  Moon's  Atmosphere  is  so  very  thin,  that,  in  their  long  days,  they 
might  not  be  too  hot :  so  thin  a  fluid  not  supplying  matter  adapted  to  those 
agitations  and  vehement  motions,  which  is  heat. 

85.  YEAR.  The  wisdom  of  God  appears,  in  making  the  Year  of  such 
a  length;  because,  if  the  year  were  much  shorter,  there  would  be  very 
little  of  a  regular  distinction  of  seasons,  by  cold  and  heat.  Before  the  air 
and  earth  would  have  lost  the  ho-at  of  the  summer  Sun,  the  Sun  would  be 
in  the  Tropic  of  Capricorn  ;  and  before  we  should  have  got  over  the  cold  of 
the  Sun's  absence  in  winter,  the  Sun  would  be  again  over  our  heads,  and 
the  seasons  would  be  confounded. 

86.  COMETS.  The  use  of  Comets  seems  to  be,  by  their  effluvia, 
which  go  off  in  their  tails  continually,  but  especially  iu  their  perihelion, 
to  feed  the  Sun  with  matter,  suitable  to  be  converted  into  rays  of  light,  to 
repair  the  waste  of  such  particles,  by  the  vast  diifusion  of  light  which  it 
daily  emits.  They  are  sent  out  of  the  atmosphere  of  the  Comet,  not  as 
rising  by  the  weight  of  their  circumambient  Ether;  for  it  has  been  demon- 
strated to  be  so  small,  and  so  near  to  nothing,  that  it  is  not  supposable, 
that  it  can  be  by  any  such  means  ;  but  by  the  force  or  attraction  of  the 
emitted  rays  of  the  Sun,  which,  passing  through  the  atmosphere  of  the 
comets,  by  their  attraction,  drav/  after  them,  continually,  those  particles, 
of  which  the  tail  is  made  up.  The  rays,  that  pass  by  very  near  them,  act 
upon  them  by  their  attraction,  and  set  them  into  a  motion  from  the  Sun, 
and  parallel  to  the  motion  of  the  emitted  rays  of  the  Sun.  There  is  no 
matter,  by  this  means,  sent  out  of  the  atmosphere  into  the  tail,  but  that 
which  is  most  suitable  to  be  the  aliment  of  the  Sun,  and  to  be  converted 
into  rays  of  light ;  for  the  rays  of  light  attract  that  matter,  that  is  of  their 
own  nature,  and  suitable  to  be  turned  into  particles  of  light,  or  fire,  im- 
mensely more  strongly  than  others,  as  appears,  by  the  action  of  particles 
of  light,  or  fire,  upon  natural  bodies,  in  setting  them  on  fire.  Their  ac- 
tion is,  at  first,  on  those  particles  in  the  natural  body,  that  are  of  the  same 
kind,  or  fit  to  become  particles  of  fire,  and,  by  this  attraction  of  extrinsic 
rays,  those  within  are  set  in  motion,  whereby  the  body  is  set  on  fire.  And 
thus,  by  the  powerful  action  of  those  particles,  one  on  another,  there  ari- 
ses that  most  rapid  and  vehement  motion  of  them  in  fire,  and  causes  them 
to  leap  forth,  with  such  immense  celerity,  as  to  come  from  the  Sun  hither 
in  a  few  minutes.  This  strong  action  of  these  particles,  one  on  another, 
probably  arises  from  their  being  immensely  denser  than  other  particles. 

87.  FIXED  STAilS.  The  motion  of  the  Fixed  Stars  backwards  in 
the  Ecliptick.  if  it  be  not  real,  but  bo  caused  by  any  motion  in  the  Earth, 
must  necessarily  be  caused  by  a  motion  of  the  poles  of  the  Earth  round  the' 
poles  of  the  Ecliptick,  in  a  circle  equal  to  the  Polar  Circles.  For  it  is 
most  certain,  if  this  motion  is  in  all  the  Fixed  Stars,  in  circles  parallel  to 
the  Ecliptick,  that  then  the  Polar  Star  itseU' moves  round  the  Pole  of  the 
Ecliptick  in  a  circle  equal  to  the  Polar.  But  seeing  the  Pole  Star  itself 
stirs  not,  the  apparent  motion  of  it,  from  the  Pole  of  the  Earth,  must  be  by 
the  motion  of  the  Pole.  For  either  the  Pole  moves,  or  the  Star  moves;, 
it  is  certain.  Besides,  it  is  certain,  if  the  plane  of  the  Equator  moves,  the 
Poles  move.  But  if  the  points  ol  intersection  tliat  this  plane  makes  with 
the  plane  of  the  EcHptick,  move,  the  plane  itself  moves,  if  the  Ecliptick 
itself  move  not.  And  the  motion  must  be  such  as  to  cause  the  Poles  to 
move  round  the  Pole  of  the  Ecliptick.  In  such  a  manner  and  sense,  in 
the  Ecliptick,  the  Fixed  Stars  move  a  degree  in  70  years.  It  follows  that 
the  Pole  of  the  Earth  will  move  quite  round  this  circle  in  25,200  years. 


760  APPENDIX. 

From  hence  it  is  certain,  if  the  Fixed  Stars  move  not,  that  the  Earth, 
has  two  rotaiions  upon  two  different  Axes: — one  a  Diurnal,  upon  the 
Axis  that  runs  from  the  North  to  the  South  Pole ;  another,  that  is  per- 
formed in  25,^00  years,  upon  the  Axis  that  runs  from  one  Pole  of  the 
Echptick  to  the  other,  the  last  being  about  a  mile  m  a  year,  under  the 
Ecliptick,  being  perhaps  about  as  fast  as  a  snail  would  crawl,  and  might 
possibly  be  caused  by  some  Comet  passing  by  the  Earth  in  the  plane  of  the 
Ecliptick.  Now  there  would  be  exactly  such  a  rotation  upon  the  Axis  of 
the  Ecliptick,  by  a  Comet's  coming  n^ar  the  Earth,  if  in  the  plane  of  the 
Ecliptick,  in  its  descent  towards  the  Sun  ;  for  the  Earth  would  be  stretch- 
ed somewhat  into  an  Oblong  Spheroid,  in  such  a  case;  and  as  the  comet 
went  along,  it  is  evident,  that  that  end  of  tne  Spheroid  that  was  next  to  it, 
would,  in  some  measure,  follow  it  or  be  drawn  after  it,  which  would  beget 
just  such  a  motion. 

88.  ATOMS.  It  is  certain  that,  when  God  first  created  Matter,  or  the 
various  Chaoses  of  Atoms,  besides  creating  the  Atoms  and  giving  the 
whole  Chaos  its  motion,  he  designed  the  tigiire  and  shape  of  every  Atom, 
and  likewise  their  places  ;  which  doubtless  was  done  with  infinite  wisdom, 
and  with  an  eye  to  waat  should  foliow  from  the  particular  bulk,  figure  and 
place  of  every  Atom  ;  and  this  be  so  ordered  that,  without  doing  any  thing 
more,  the  Chaoses  of  themselves,  according  to  the  established  Laws  of 
Matter,  were  brought  into  these  various  and  excellent  forms,  adapted  to 
every  of  God's  ends,  excepting  the  more  excellent  works  of  plants  and 
animals,  which  it  was  proper  and  fit  God  should  have  an  immediate  hand 
in.  So  the  Atoms  of  one  Chaos  were  created  in  such  places,  of  such  mag- 
nitudes and  figures,  that  the  Laws  of  Nature  brought  them  into  this  form, 
fit,  in  every  regard,  for  them  who  were  to  be  the  inhabitants. 

AXIOMS.  1.  If  a  thing  is  to  come  one  of  two  or  more  ways,  if  it  hap- 
pen in  one  of  those  ways,  and  not  in  an-  -^ 
other,  it  will  be  because  there  is  some 
reason  why  it  shoulu  happen  this  way,  and 
not  another,  And  in  things  that  have 
happened,  there  is  some  reason,  why  they 
have  happened  this  way  more  than  ano- 
ther.    For  instance,  I  say  it  is  evident,       ^rT\. 

that  if  the  body  C  be  at  rest,  but  is  to  move   tf  {^^ 

either  towards  A,  or  B,  or  D,  or  E,  if  it 
move  towards  E,  it  will  be  because  there 
is  some  reason  why  it  should  move  to- 
wards E,  more  than  why  it  should  move 
towards  A.  B,  or  D. 

2.  Which  necessarily  follows  from  the 


E 


former ;  when  there  is  an  equal  reason,  why  the  thing  should  be,  or  happen 
each  of  the  supposed  ways,  and  it  cannot  be  all,  it  will  be  neither.  If  it 
can  be  proved  that  there  is  equal  reason  why  the  body  C  should  move  to- 
wards either  A,  B,  D,  or  E,  it  will  move  towards  neither  of  them. 

3.  The  same  force  will  equally  separate  all  bodies,  or  parts  of  bodies, 
conjoined  with  equal  strictness,  ceteris  paribus, —This  to  prove  that  it  holds 
in   all  Atoms.  r„,         ■  a     e 

4.  Nothing  produces  Anything  where  it  is  not.  There  is  no  need  ot 
inserting  the  word  immediately  here ;  for  in  the  sense  of  this  Axiom,  that 
only,  which  immediately  does  a  thing,  properly  does  it.  For  instance 
when  one  body  is  thrown  against  another,  and  causps  that  other  body  to 
move;  in  the  sense  of  this  Axiom,  it  was  the  body  that  was  thrown,  that 


NOTES    ON    NATWRAL    b'ClENCE.  761 

moved  the  other,  and  not  the  man  that  threw  it.  The  Axiom  is  evident, 
because  it  is  a  contradiction  to  suppose  that  the  body  acts  where  it  is  not, 
or  to  say  that  it  exerts  itself,  where  itself  is  not.  It  is  evident  that,  if  a 
body  be  not  in  such  a  space,  that  it  is  all  one  with  respect  to  that  space,  as 
if  it  had  no  existence  at  all. 

5.  Wherefore,  if  a  body  is  placed  alone  in  a 
space,  as  for  instance,  the  body  C,  in  th«  midst  of 
the  space  ABE,  there  being  no  other  corporeal 
Deing-  in  that  space;  if  this  body  be  at  rest,  and  af- 
terwards it  begins  to  move,  it  is  manifest  that  it  is 
not  moved  by  any  corporeal  being,  but  by  a  being  A 
not  corporeal.  Or  if  the  body  C  be  held  at  rest,  so 
that  it  cannot  be  moved,  it  is  evident  it  is  held  there 
by  an  incorporeal  being. 

B 

6.  For  the  same  reason,  if  the  two  bodies  e,  and  o,  touching  each  other 
be  touched  by  no  other  body,  if  the  body  c,  be  held  to  the 
body  o.  so  that  it  cannot  be  moved  away  from  it,  it  is  evident  f^ 

that  it  is  held  there  by  an  incorporeal  being ;  for  the  body  o,   r ^^ — ^ 

cannot  possibly  act  upon  the  body  e,  so  as  to  hinder  it  from 
moving  away ;  for  by  Axiom  4,  the  body  o  does  not  act  where 
it  is  not;  but  the  body  o,  is,  no  further  than  its  surface  is. 

And  the  case  will  be  the  sanae,  let  the  bodies  touch  in 
one  point,  or  in  more,  or  by  lines  or  surfaces;  as  the  bodies 
a,  and  v.  If  v  cannot  be  moved  towards  y,  it  must  be  an  in-  ' 
corporeal  being  that  keeps  it  immoveable  ;  for  a  is  present 
no  farther  than  the  planey  m,  and  therefore  cannot  possibly 
act  on  v,  which  is  beyond  it,  to  hinder  its  being  moved  to- 
wards y. 

y 

POSTULATUM.  The  attraction  of  small  bodies,  is  so  much  greater 
than  the  attraction  of  great  bodies,  according  to  the  quantity  of  matter  ia 
them,  at  the  same  distance  from  the  surface  of  each,  as  the  squares  of  the 
distances  of  the  parts  of  the  small  body  are  less.  For  the  parts  of  small 
bodies  attract  bodies  nigh  to  them  immensely  more  than  corresponding 
parts  of  great  bodies,  because  the  parts  of  a  small  body  may  lie  so  much 
nearer  to  the  body  attracted.  Therefore,  small  bodies  attract  bodies  near 
their  surface,  with  immensely  greater  strength,  according  to  the  quantity 
of  matter  that  is  in  them,  than  great  bodies,  supposing  they  be  equally 
dense. — But  the  minute  particles  of  bodies  have  commonly  vastly  more 
matter  in  proportion  to  their  dimefisions,  than  great  bodies;  and  therefore 
will  attract  abundantly  more,  for  that  reason. 

RAINBOW.  The  separation  of  heterogeneous  rays,  in  the  Rainbow, 
is  not  at  the  reflexion  of  the  concave  surface,  but  at  the  two  refractions 
going  in,  and  coming  out.  There  is  not  a  distinct  Reflexibility,  but  only 
Refrangibility. 


Vol.  I.  9e 


^ 


762^  APPENDIX. 

K. 

(Seep.  531.) 

FAMILY    AKD    DESCEXDENTS    OF    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS-.' 
First. FAMILY. 

The  following  is  a  copy  of  the  Family  Record,  in  his  own  hand,  in  the 

Family  Bible. 

"  Jonathan  Edwards,  son  of  Timothy  and  Esther  Edwards  of  Windsoij 
in  Connecticut. 

"I  was  born  Oct.  5,1703. 

"  I  was  ordained  at  Northampton,  Feb.  15,  1727. 

"I  was  married  to  Miss  Sarah  Pierrepont,  July  28, 1727. 

"My  wife  was  born  Jan.  9,  1710. 

"  My  daughter  Sarah  was  born  on  a  Sabbath  day,  between  2  and  3 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Aug.  25,  1728. 

"  My  daughter  Jerusha  was  bom  on  a  Sabbath  day,  towards  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  afternoon  exercise,  April  26,  1730. 

"  My  daughter  Esther  was  born  on  a  Sabbath  day,  between  9  and  10 
o'clock  in  the  forenoon,  Feb.  13,  1732. 

"  My  daughter  Mary  was  born  April  7th,  1734,  being  Sabbath  day,  the 
sun  being  about  an  hour  and  a  half  high,  in  the  morning. 

"  My  daughter  Lucy  was  born  on  Tuesday,  the  last  day  of  Aug.  1736, 
between  2  and  3  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  My  son  Timothy  was  born  on  Tuesday,  July  25,  1738,  between  6  and 
7  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"  My  daughter  Susawnah  was  born  on  Friday,  June  20,  1740,  at  about  3- 
in  the  morning. 

"  All  the  family,  above  named,  had  the  measles,  at  the  latter  end  of  the 
year  1740. 

"  My  daughter  Eunice  was  born  on  Monday  morning.  May  9,  1743, 
about  half  an  hour  after  midnight,  and  was  baptized  the  sabbath  following. 

"  My  son  Jonathak  was  born  on  a  sabbath-day-night,  May  26,  1745,  be- 
tween 9  and  10  o'clock,  and  was  baptized  the  sabbath  following. 

"Mydp.ughter  Jerusha  died  on  a  sabbath  day,  Feb.  14,  1747,  about  5 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  aged  17. 

"  My  daughter  Elizabeth  was  born  on  Wednesday,  May  6,  1747,  be- 
tween 10  and  1 1  o'clock  at  night,  and  was  baptized  the  sabbath  following. 

"  My  Gon  Pierrepont  was  born  on  a  sabbatli-day-night,  April  8,  1750,  be« 
tween  8  and  9  o'clock  ;  and  was  baptized  the  sabbath  following. 

"  I  was  dismissed  from  my  pastoral  relation  to  the  first  Church  in  North- 
ampton, June  22d,  1750. 

"  My  daughter  Sarah  was  married  to  Mr.  Elihu  Parsons,  June  11,  1750. 

"  My  daughter  Mary  was  married  to  Timothy  D wight,  Esq.  of  North- 
ampton, Nov.  8,  1750. 

"  My  daughter  Esther  was  married  to  the  Rev.  Aaron  Burr  of  Newark, 
June  29,  1752. 

"  Mr.  Burr  aforesaid.  President  of  the  New  Jersey  College,  died  at 
Princeton,  Sept.  24,  1757,  of  the  Nervous  Fever.  Mr.  Burr  was  l3orn 
Jan.  4,  1715. 

"  I  was  properly  initiated  President  of  New  Jersey  College,  by  taking 
the  previous  oaths,  Feb.  16,  1758." 


APPENDIX.  763 

Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards,  Presidientof  Nassau  Hall,  died  of  the  small 
pox,  March  22,  1748,  and  was  buriod  March  24th. 

Esther  Burr,  wife  of  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  died  at  Princeton,  April  7,  1758, 
of  a  short  illness,  aged  26. 

Sarah  Edwards,  wife  of  Jonathan  Edwards,  died  Oct.  2, 1758,  about  1^ 
o'c]»3k,  and  was  buried  at  Princeton  the  day  following. 

Elizabeth  Edwards,  daughter  of  Jonathan  and  Sarah,  died  at  North- 
ampton, Jan.  1,  1762,  aged  14. 

Lucy  Woodbridge  died  at  Stockbridge  in  Oct.  1786,  aged  50. 

Rev.  Jonathan  Edwards,  D.  D.  died  at  Schenectady,  Aug.  1,1801,  aged 
56. 

Susannah  Porter  died  at  Hadley,  in  the  spring  of  1802,  aged  61. 

Sarah  Parsons  died  at  Goshen,  Mass.  May  15,  1805,  aged  76. 

Mary  D wight  died  at  Northampton,  Feb.  1807,  aged  72. 

Timothy  Edwards  died  at  Stockbridge  in  the  autumn  of  1813,  aged  75. 

Eunice  Hunt  died  at  Newbern,N.  C.  in  the  autumn  of  1822,  aged  79. 

Pierrepont  Edwards  died  at  Bridgeport,  April  14, 1826,  aged  76. 


Secand. — more  remote  descende>"ts. 

Elihu  Parsons,  Esq.  )  married  June  11,  1750.     They  lived  at  Stockf 
Sarah  Edwards,        \    bridge  and  afterwards  at  Goshen, 
Children. 

1.  Ebenezer.     Died  in  infancy. 

2.  Esther,  born  May  17,  1752,  died  at  Stockbridge,  Nov.  17,  1774. 

3.  Elihu,  born  Dec.  9,  1753,  married  Rhoda  Hinsdale  of  Lenox.     He 
died  at  Goshen  in  Aug.   1804.     They  had  6  children. 

4.  Eliphalet,  born  Jan.  1756  ;  married  Martha  Young  of  Long  Island. 
He  died  at  Chenango,  N.  Y.  in  Jan.  1813.     They  had  5  children. 

5.  Lydia,  bom  Jan.  15,  1757;  married  Aaron  Ingersoll  of  liCe.     They 
had  4  children. 

6.  Lucretia,  born  Aug.  3, 1759  ;  married  Rev.  Justin  Parsons  of  Pittsr 
field,  Vt.     She  died  at  Goshen  in  Dec.  1786.     They  had  1  child. 

7.  Sarah,  born  Sept.  8,  1760;  married  David  Ingersoll  of  Lee,   Dec. 
13,  1781.     They  had  13  children. 

8.  Lucy,  born  Oct.  14,  1762;  married  Joshua  Ketchum.     They  had 
3  children. 

9.  Jonathan.     Died  an  infant. 

10.  Jerusha.     Died  an  infant. 

11.  Jerusha,  born  May,  1766;  married  Ira  Seymour  of  Victor,  N.  y. 
They  have  had  5  children. 

n.  Jerusha,  died  unmarried,  at  the  age  of  17. 

jjy     ^  Rev.  Aaron  Burr,  ^  married  June  29, 1752.    They  lived  at  Newark, 
\  Esther  Edwards,  ^  and  Princeton. 
Children. 

1.  Sarah,  born  May  3,  1754;  married  Hon.  Tapping  Reeve  of  Litch- 
field, Conn.     They  had  1  child,  Aaron  Burr  Reeve. 

2.  Hon.  Aaron  Burr,  Vice  President  of  the  Uuited  States,  born  Feb.  6, 
1756;  married  Mrs.  Theodosia  Prevost.     They  had  one  daughter. 

jy     ^  Timothy  D wight,  Esq.  )  married  Nov.  8,   1750.      They  lived  at 
I  Mary  Edwards,  \  Northampton.     He  died  at   Natchez,  in 

1776;  and  she,  in  Feb.  1807,  at  Northampton. 
Children  13. 

1.  Rev.  Timothy  Dwight,  DD.,   LL.  D.,  President  of  Yale   College, 
born  May  14,  1752 ;  married  Mary,  the  daughter  of  Benjamin  Wool- 


764  Appendix. 

sey,  Esq.  of  Dorsous,  L.  I.     Tftey  had  7  children.     He  died  at  New- 
Haven,  Jan.  11,  1817. 
^.  Sereno  Edwards  D wight,  M.  D.,  born  1753;  married   Miss  Lyman. 
They  had  2  children.     He  was  lost  at  sea,  on  the  coast  of  Nova  Sco- 
tia, in  1779. 
3.  Jonathan  D wight,  born  1755;  married  Miss  Wright.     They  had  2 

children.     He  died  in  1H0-. 
•4.  Erastus  Dwight,  born  1756  ;  died,  unmarried, in  1825. 

5.  Maurice  William  Dwight,  M.  D.,  born  in  17S8;  married  Margaret 
Dewitt.     They  had  2  children. 

6.  Sarah,  born  May  29,  1760;  married  Seth  Storrs  of  Northampton » 
She  died  at  Northampton,  in  1805. 

7.  Hon.  Theodore  Dwight,  born  in  1762  ;  married  Abbey  Alsop.     They 
have  3  children. 

8.  Mary,  born  in  1764;  married  Lewis  R.  Morris.     They  had  1  child. 

9.  Delia,  born  in  1766  ;  married  Jonathan  Edwards  Porter,  Esq.    They 
had  3  children. 

10.  Nathaniel  Dwight,  M.  D.,  born  in  1769  ;  married  Miss  Robbins. 
They  have  4  children. 

11.  Elizabeth,  bornin  1771  ;  married  WilHam  W.  Woolsey,  Esq.     They 
had  8  children.     She  died  at  New-Haven  in  the  autumn  of  1812. 

12.  Cecil  Dwight,    born  June   10,   1774;  married    Mary  Clap.      They 
have  had  11  children. 

13.  Henry  Edwin  Dwight,  born  in  1776  ;  married  Electa  Keyes.     They 
had  6  children. 

Jahleel  Woodbridge,  Esq.  >  married  June  1764.  They  lived  at  Stock- 
Lucy  Edwards,  ^  bridge. 
Children^  7. 

1.  Jonathan  Woodbridge,  Esq.,  born    1766;    married  Sarah    Meach. 
They  had  8  children. 

2.  Stephen,  born  1778,  and  had  several  children. 

3.  Joseph  Woodbridge,  Esq.,  born  in  1770;  married  ^Louisa  Hopkins. 
They  had  4  children. 

4.  Lucy,  born    in    1772;  married  Henry  Brown.     They  had  9  or    10 
children. 

5.  John  Woodbridge,  Esq. 

6.  Sarah,   married  a  Mr.  Leicester  of  Griswold,  Conn.     They  had  » 
children. 

7.  Rev  Timothy  Woodbridge,  of  Green  River.  N.  Y. 

-^^y      K  Hon.  Timothy  Edwards,  }  married  Sept.  25,  1760.     They  lived  at 

^'    \  Rhoda  Ogden,  \  Stockbridge. 

Children  15.     Two  died  young. 

1.  Sarah.       2.   Edward.       3.  Jonathan.       4.    Richard.       5.     Phebe. 

6.    William.       7.  Robert   Ogden.       8.    Timothy.       9.  Mary  Ogden. 

10.  Rhoda.     11.  Mary.     12.  Anna.      13.  Robert. 
yyy    ^  Eleazar  Porter,  Esq.  )  married    S-ept.   1761.     They  lived  at  Had- 
'  \  Susannah  Edwards,    \  ley. 

Children  5. 

1.  Eleazar.  2.  William.  3.  Jonathan  Edwards.  4.  Moses.  5.  Pierrepont. 
YjTT       S  Thomas  Pollock,  Esq.  )  married  Jan.  1764.     They  lived  at  Ehz- 

*  \  Eunice  Edwards,  \  abetiitown,  N.  J. 

Childreii  5. 

1.  Elizabeth,  married Williams  Esq. 

2.  Hester,  died  unman  ied. 

3.  Thomas  Pollock,  Esq. 

4.  Frances,  married  John  Deveraux,  Esq.     They  have  3  children. 


APPENDIX-.  "765 

3.   George  Pollock,  Esq.  ^ 

TV     S  ^^^•.  J'^'ft';^"  ^^'"^''}f^  ^^-   )  married  in  17^0.     They  lived  at 
TX.    ]  President  ot  Union  College,        V  N^^.^.H^ven,  and  Schenectady. 
(  Sarah  Porter,  ) 

Children  4.     One  died  young. 

1.  Mary,  married  Mr.  Hoit,  of  Schenectady. 

2.  Jonathan  Walter  Edwards,  Esq.     Married  Elizabeth  Tryon. 

3.  Jerusha,  married  Rev.  Calvin  Chapin  D.  D.  of  Stepney. 
X.   Elizabeth.     Died  unmarried,  at  the  age  of  14. 

■yj     ^  Hon.  Pierrepont  Edwards, )  married  May,  1769.      They  lived  at 
(  Frances  Ogden,  ^  New-Haven. 

Children  10.     Of  whom  4  died  in  infancy. 

1.  Susan,  married  Samuel  W.  Johnson,  Esq.  They  have  had  6  children. 

2.  Hon.  John  Starkes  Edwards,  married  Louisa  Morris.     They  had  3 
children. 

3.  Hon.  Henry  Waggerman  Edwards,  married  Lydia  Miller.  They  have 
had  8  children. 

4.  Hon.   Ogden  Edwards,    married  Harriet   Penfield.     They  had  \0 
children. 

5.  Alfred  Edwards,  married  Deborah  Glover. 

6.  Henrietta  Frances,  married  Eli  Whitney,  Esq.     They  had  4  ehildrerl'. 


CATALOGUE    Of    PRESIDENT    EDWARDS     WORKS,    HERETOFORE    PUBLISHED. 

1731.  God  glorified  in  Man's  Dependence;  A  Sermon  on   1  Cor.  i.  29 — 31. 
Boston. 

1734.  A  Divine  and  Supernatural  Light  imparted  to  the  Soul  by  the  Spirit  of 
God  ;  A  Sermon  on  Matt.  xvi.  17.     Boston. 

1735.  (Probably.)    Curse  ye  Meroz  ;  A  Sermon  on  Judges  v.  33.     (This  I  have 
not  found.) 

1736.  Narrative  of  Surprising  Conversions,     London. 

1738.   Five  Discourses,  prefixed  to  the  first  American  edition  of  the  preceding, 

Boston. 
1741.  Sinners  in  the  hands  of  an  angry  God;  A  Sermon  on  Deut.  xxxii.  35. 

Boston. 
1741.  Sorrows  of  the  Bereaved  spread  before  Jesus;  A  Sermon  at  the  funeral 

of  the  Rev.  William  Williams,  on  Matt.  xi\'.  12.     Boston. 

1741.  Distinguishing  Marks  of  a  Work  of  the  True  Spirit;   A  Sermon  on  I 
John  iv.  1,  preached  at  New  Haven,  Sept.  10,  1741.     Boston. 

1742.  Thoughts  on  the  Revival  of  religion  in  New  England  in  1740.     Boston. 

1743.  The  Watchman's  Duty  and  Account ;  A  Sermon  on  Heb.  xiii.  17,  at  the 
Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Jonathan  Judd.     Boston, 

1744.  The  True  Excellency  of  a  Gospel  Minister  ;  A  Sermon  on  John  v.  35,  at 
the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Abercrombie.     Boston. 

1746.  Treatise  on  Religious  Affections.     Boston. 

1747.  True  Saints,  when  absent  from  the  body,  present  with  the  Lord  ;  A  Ser- 
mon on  2  Cor.  v.  8,  at  the  Funeral  of  Rev.  David  Brainerd.     Boston. 

1748.  God's  awful  Judgments  in  breaking  the  Strong  Rods  of  Community  ;  A 
Sermon  on  the  death  of  Col.  John  Stoddard.     Boston. 

1749.  Life  and  Diary  of  the  Rev.  David  Brainerd,     Boston. 

1749.  Christ  the  Example  of  Gospel  Ministers ;  A  Sermon  on   John  xiii.  15^ 

16,  at  the  Ordination  of  the  Rev.  Job  Strong.     Boston. 
t749.  Qu-alifica.tio»s  for  Full  Communion  in  the  Visible  Church.     Boston. 


766  APPENDIX. 

1750.  Farewell  Sermon  to  the  People  of  Northampton.     Boston. 

1752-  True  Grace  distinguished  from  the  Experience  of  Devils;  A  Sermon  o» 

James  ii.  19,  before  the  Synod  of  Newark.     JVew  York. 

1754.  On  the  Freedom  of  the  Will.     Boston. 

1758.  On  Original  Sin.     Boston. 

1765.  Eighteen  Sermons,  annexed  to  the  Life  by  Dr.  Hopkins.     Boston. 

1177.  The  History  of  Kedemption.     Edinburgh. 

1788.  Nature  of  Virtue.     Bo<to7i. 

1788.  God's  Last  End  in  the  Creation.     In  the  same  pamphlet  as  the  preceding. 
1,788.  Practical  Sermons.     Edinburgh. 

1789.  Twenty  Sermons.     Edinburgh. 

1793.  Misceiianeous  Observations.     Edinburgh. 

il96.  Miscellaneous  Remarks.     Edinburgh. 


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