Chapter 2 of 3

Part 2

Part 2

So sometimes disconsolate souls among us have been revived and brought to rest in God, by a sweet sense given of His grace and faithfulness in some special invitation or promise, in which there is no particular mention of Christ; nor is it accompanied with any distinct thought of Him in their minds. Yet it is not received as outside of Christ, but as one of the invitations or promises made by God to poor sinners through his Son Jesus, as it is indeed. And such people have afterwards had clear and distinct discoveries of Christ, accompanied with lively and special actings of faith and love towards Him.

It has more frequently been so among us, that when people have first had the gospel ground of relief for lost sinners revealed to them, and have entertained their minds with that sweet prospect, they have thought nothing at that time of their being converted. It exceedingly refreshes them to see that there is such an all-sufficiency in God, and such plentiful provision made in Christ, after they have been borne down and sunk with a sense of their guilt and fears of wrath. The

view is joyful to them, as it is glorious in its own nature, and it gives them quite new and more delightful ideas of God and Christ. It greatly encourages them to seek conversion, and begets in them a strong resolution to surrender themselves, and devote their whole lives to God and his Son, and to patiently wait till God sees fit to make all effectual. And very often, they entertain a strong persuasion that He will do it for them in his own time.

There is wrought in them a holy repose of soul in God through Christ, and a secret disposition to fear and love Him, and to hope for blessings from him in this way. Yet they don't imagine that they are now converted; it doesn't so much as come into their minds. And very often the reason is that they don't see that their acceptance of this sufficiency of salvation which they behold in Christ is a real acceptance of it, having entertained a wrong notion of acceptance. Not being sensible that the obedient and joyful entertainment which their hearts give to this discovery of grace, they don't know that the sweet satisfaction they feel in the mercy and complete salvation of God — as it includes pardon and sanctification, and is held out to them only through Christ — is a true receiving of this mercy, nor a plain evidence of their receiving it. I don't know what kind of act of soul they expected, and perhaps they had no distinct idea of it themselves.

Indeed, it appears very plainly in some of them, that before their own conversion, they had very imperfect ideas what conversion was. It is all new and strange; and there was no clear conception of it before. It is most evident, as they themselves acknowledge, that the expressions that were used to describe conversion, and the graces of God's Spirit — such as a spiritual sight of Christ, faith in Christ, poverty of spirit, trust in God, being resigned to God, etc. — were expressions that did not convey those special and distinct ideas to their minds, which they were intended to signify. Perhaps to some of them, it was little more than what the names of colors are, to convey the ideas of color to someone who is blind from birth.

This town is a place where there has always been a great deal of talk of conversion and spiritual experiences. And therefore, people in

general had previously formed a notion in their own minds of what these things were. But when they came to be the subjects of them, they find themselves much confounded in their notions, and overthrown in many of their former concepts. It has been very observable that people of the greatest understanding, and who had studied most about things of this nature, have been more confounded than others. Some of those people who have been recently converted, declare that all their former wisdom has been brought to nothing, and they appear to have been mere babes who knew nothing. It has appeared that none have stood more in need of enlightening and instruction than they did —their fellow Christians, concerning their own circumstances and difficulties. It seems to have been with delight, that they have seen themselves thus brought down, and that they have become nothing, so that free grace and divine power may be exalted in them.

It was very wonderful to see in what manner people's affections were sometimes moved and worked upon when God, as it were, suddenly opened their eyes and let into their minds a sense of the greatness of his grace, and the fulness of Christ and his readiness to save. They were broken before with apprehensions of divine wrath, and sunk into an abyss under a sense of guilt which they were ready to think was beyond the mercy of God. Their joyful surprise has caused their hearts as it were to leap, so that they've been ready to break forth into laughter — tears often at the same time issuing like a flood, intermingled with loud weeping. Sometimes they haven't been able to forbear crying out with a loud voice, expressing their great admiration. In some, even the view of the glory of God's sovereignty in the exercises of his grace, has surprised the soul with such sweetness as to produce the same effects. I remember an instance of one who had been reading something concerning God's sovereign way of saving sinners as being self-moved; and having no regard for men's own righteousness as the motive for His grace, but as magnifying Himself and abasing man — or to that purpose. He felt such a sudden rapture of joy and delight in considering it. And yet he

then suspected he was in a Christless condition, and had long been in great distress for fear that God would not have mercy on him.

Many continue a long time in a course of gracious exercises and experiences, and don't think they're converted, but conclude they are otherwise. No one knows how long they would continue so, if they were not helped by particular instruction. There are undoubted instances of some who have lived in this way for many years; and continuing in these circumstances of being converted and not believing it, has had various consequences with various people, and with the same people at various times. Some, in great encouragement and hope that they will obtain mercy, continue in a steadfast resolution to persevere in seeking it, and humbly waiting for it at God's foot. But very often, when the lively sense of the sufficiency of Christ, and of the riches of divine grace, begin to vanish upon a withdrawal of the influences of the Spirit of God, they return to greater distress than ever. For they now have a far greater sense of the misery of a natural condition than before — being sensible in a new way about the reality of eternal things, and the greatness of God, and his excellency, and how dreadful it is to be separated from Him, and to be subject to His wrath — so that they are sometimes swallowed up with darkness and amazement. Satan has a vast advantage in such cases to ply them with various temptations which he is not prone to neglect. In such a case, people very much need a guide to lead them to an understanding of what we are taught in the word of God about the nature of grace, and to help them to apply it to themselves.

I've been much blamed and censured by many, that I should make it my practice, once I am satisfied concerning a person's good estate, to signify it to them. This has been greatly misrepresented abroad, as with innumerable other things concerning us, to prejudice the country against the whole affair. But let it be noted that what I have undertaken to judge, has been qualifications and declared experiences, rather than people. Not that I haven't thought it my duty as a pastor, to assist and instruct people in applying Scripture rules and characteristics to their own case (in doing this, I think

many greatly need a guide). Indeed, where I thought the case was plain, I freely signified to others my hope about them. But I have been far from doing this concerning all those whom I had some hopes about. And I believe I have used much more caution than many have supposed. Yet I would consider it a great calamity to be deprived of the comfort of rejoicing with those of my flock who've been in great distress, and whose circumstances I've been acquainted with, when there seems to be good evidence that those who were dead are now alive, and those who were lost are now found. I am sensible that the practice would have been safer in the hands of one of a riper judgment and greater experience.18 Yet there seemed to be an absolute necessity of it for the reasons mentioned above. And it has been found to be that which God has most remarkably owned and blessed among us, both to the people themselves and others.

Grace in many people, through this ignorance of their state, and looking at themselves as still being the objects of God's displeasure, has been like trees in winter, or seed in the spring that has been suppressed under a hard clod of earth. Many in such cases have labored to their utmost to divert their minds from the pleasing and joyful views they have had, and to suppress those consolations and gracious affections that arose from them. And once it has come into their minds to inquire whether or not this was true grace, they have been much afraid lest they be deceived with common illuminations and flashes of affection, and eternally undone with a false hope. But when they've been better instructed, and so brought to allow themselves to hope, this has awakened the gracious disposition of their hearts into life and vigor, like the warm beams of the sun in the spring quicken the seeds and produce of the earth. Grace now being at liberty, and cherished with hope, has soon flowed out to their abundant satisfaction and increase.

There is nothing I know of, that God has made such a means of promoting His work among us, as the news of others' conversion in the awakening of sinners, and engaging them to earnestly seek the same blessing, and in the quickening of saints. Though I have thought that a minister's declaring his judgment about particular

people's experiences might be justified from these things, yet I am often signifying to my people how unable man is to know another's heart, and how unsafe it is to depend merely on the judgment of ministers or others. And I have abundantly insisted on it with my people, that a manifestation of sincerity in fruits brought forth, is better than any manifestation they can make of it in words alone. Without this, all pretences to spiritual experiences are vain, as all my congregation can witness. — And the people in general, in this recent extraordinary time, have manifested an extraordinary dread of being deceived, of being exceedingly fearful lest they build wrong; and some of them are hesitant to receive hope even to a great extreme. This has occasioned me to dwell longer on this part of the narrative.

Conversion is a great and glorious work of God's power, at once changing the heart, and infusing life into the dead soul — though the grace that is then implanted, more gradually displays itself in some than in others. But as to fixing on the precise time when they put forth the very first act of grace, there is a great deal of difference in different people. In some it seems to be very discernible when the exact time was; but others are more at a loss. In this respect, there are many who don't know the time (as observed already) when they have the first exercises of grace; they don't know that it is the grace of conversion; and sometimes they don't think it is so until a long time afterward. Many, even when they come to entertain great hope that they are converted, if they remember what they experienced in the first exercises of grace, they are at a loss whether it was any more than a common illumination — or whether some other clearer and more remarkable experience they had afterwards, was the first of a saving nature. And the manner of God's work on the soul is very mysterious (sometimes especially so). It is with the kingdom of God, as to its manifestation in the heart of a convert, as it is said in Mark 4.26-28,

"So the kingdom of God is as if a man were to toss seed on the ground, and sleep and rise, night and day; and the seed springs up and grows, he knows not how. For the earth brings forth fruit by

herself: first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear."

In some, converting light is like a glorious brightness, suddenly shining in upon a person, and all around him. They are brought in a remarkable manner out of darkness into marvellous light. In many others, it has been like the dawning of the day, when at first but a little light appears, and maybe it is quickly hidden by a cloud; and then it appears again and shines a little brighter, and gradually increases with intervening darkness, till at length, perhaps, it breaks forth more clearly from behind the clouds. Many, doubtless, are ready to date their conversion wrong, tossing aside those lesser degrees of light that appeared at first dawning, and calling some more remarkable experience that they had afterwards, their conversion. This often arises, in great measure, from a wrong understanding of what they have always been taught: that conversion is a great change in which old things are done away, and all things become new — or at least falsely arguing from that doctrine.

People commonly, at first conversion and afterwards, have had many texts of Scripture brought to their minds, that are exceeding suitable to their circumstances. These often come with great power, and as the word of God or Christ indeed. And many have a multitude of sweet invitations, promises, and doxologies flowing in one after another, bringing great light and comfort with them, filling the soul brim full, enlarging the heart and opening the mouth in religion. And it seems to me necessary to suppose that there is an immediate influence of the Spirit of God, oftentimes in bringing texts of Scripture to the mind — not that I suppose it is done by immediate revelation, without any use of the memory. Yet there plainly seems to be an immediate and extraordinary influence in leading their thoughts to such and such passages of Scripture, and exciting them in the memory. Indeed in some, God seems to bring texts of Scripture to their minds by leading them into such frames and meditations that harmonize with those Scriptures. But in many, there seems to be something more than this.

Those who had the greatest terrors while under legal convictions, have not always obtained the greatest light and comfort; nor do they always have that light communicated the most suddenly. Yet I think the time of conversion has generally been most sensed in such people. Oftentimes, the first tangible change after the extremity of terrors, is a calmness; and then the light gradually comes in — small glimpses at first, after their midnight darkness and a word or two of comfort, as it were, softly spoken to them. They have a little taste of the sweetness of divine grace, and the love of a Saviour, when terror and distress of conscience begins to be turned into a humble, meek sense of their own unworthiness before God. And there is felt inwardly, perhaps, some disposition to praise God; after a little while, the light comes in more clearly and powerfully. Yet, I think more frequently, great terrors are followed with more sudden and great light, and comfort. When the sinner seems to be subdued, and brought to a calm from a kind of tumult of mind, then God lets in an extraordinary sense of His great mercy through a Redeemer.

The converting influences of God's Spirit commonly bring an extraordinary conviction of the reality and certainty of the great things of religion (though in some, this is much greater some time after conversion, than at first). They have that sight and taste of the divinity, or of divine excellency, that there is in the things of the gospel, that does more to convince them than reading many volumes of argument without it. It seems to me that in many instances among us, when the divine excellency and glory of the things of Christianity are set before people, and at the same time, as it were, they have seen, tasted, and felt the divinity of them, they have been as far from doubting the truth of them, as they are from doubting there's a sun when their eyes are open in the midst of a clear hemisphere. The strong blaze of His light overcomes all objections against His being. And yet many of them, if we asked them why they believe those things to be true, they would not be able to express or communicate a sufficient reason to satisfy the inquirer. Perhaps they could give no other answer than they see they are true. But a person may soon be satisfied by a particular conversation with them, that what they mean

by such an answer, is that they have intuitively beheld, and immediately felt these most illustrious works, and seen powerful evidence of divinity in them.

Some are thus convinced of the truth of the gospel in general, and that the Scriptures are the word of God. Others have their minds more especially fixed on some particular great doctrine of the gospel, some particular truths they're meditating on. Or they're convinced in a special way about the divinity of the things they're reading about in some portion of Scripture; some have such convictions in a much more remarkable manner than others. And there are some who never had such a special sense of the certainty of divine things impressed upon them with such inward evidence and strength; yet they have very clear exercises of grace, i.e., of love to God, repentance, and holiness. And if they're examined more particularly, they plainly appear to have an inward, firm persuasion of the reality of divine things, which they didn't have before their conversion. Those who have the clearest discoveries of divine truth in the manner spoken of, cannot always have this in view. When the sense and relish of the divine excellency of these things fades, upon a withdrawment of the Spirit of God, they don't have the medium of their conviction of truth at their command. In a dull frame, they cannot perfectly recall the idea and inward sense they had; things appear very dim compared to what they had before. Though there still remains a habitual and strong persuasion, it doesn't exclude temptations to unbelief, nor to any possibility of doubting, as before. But then at particular times, by God's help, the same sense of things revives again, like fire that lays hidden in ashes.

I suppose the grounds for having such a conviction of the truth of divine things, are just and rational; yet in some, God makes use of their own reason, much more sensibly than He does in others. Oftentimes people have (so far as can be judged) received the first saving conviction from reasoning which they heard from the pulpit; and they may often be led into this course of reasoning in their own meditations.

The arguments may be the same that they've heard hundreds of times before; but the force of the arguments, and their conviction of them, is altogether new. They come with a new and previously unexperienced power. Before they heard it was so, and they admitted it to be so; but now they see it to be so indeed. Things now look exceedingly plain to them, and they wonder that they didn't see them before.

They are so greatly taken with their new discovery, and things appear so plain and so rational to them, that at first they're ready to think they can convince others. They are apt to engage in talk to this end, with almost everyone they meet. When they are disappointed, they wonder that their reasonings seem to make no more impression than they do.

Many make the mistake of doubting their own good estate, because so much use was made of their own reasoning in the conviction they received. They are afraid they have no illumination beyond the natural force of their own faculties. Many raise as an objection to the spirituality of their convictions, that it is so easy to see things as they now see them. They have often heard that conversion is a work of mighty power, manifesting to the soul what no man or angel can give such a conviction of. But it seems to them that the things which they now see are so plain and easy and rational, that anybody can see them. And if they are asked why they never saw it before, they say it seems to them that they never thought of it before. But very often these difficulties are soon removed by those of another nature. For when God withdraws, they find themselves blind again, as it were. For the present, they lose their realizing sense of those things that looked so plain to them; and they cannot recover it by all that they can do, till God renews the influences of his Spirit.

After conversion, people often speak of things of religion as seeming new to them. Preaching is a new thing; they never heard such preaching before. The Bible is a new book; they find new chapters, new psalms, new histories, because they see them in a new light. Here was a remarkable instance of an aged woman over seventy years old, who had spent most of her days under Mr. Stoddard's

powerful ministry. Reading in the New Testament concerning Christ's sufferings for sinners, she seemed surprised and astonished at what she read, as a real thing and very wonderful, but quite new to her. At first, before she had time to turn her thoughts, she wondered that she had never heard of it before. But then she immediately recollected herself, and thought that she had often heard of it and read it, but never until now had she seen it as a real thing. And then she cast in her mind, how wonderful this was, that the Son of God should undergo such things for sinners, and how she had spent her time in ungratefully sinning against so good a God, and such a Saviour — even though, as to what was visible, she had led a very blameless and inoffensive life. And she was so overcome by those considerations, that her nature was ready to fail under them. Those who were around her, and didn't know what was the matter, were surprised and thought she was a dying.

Many have spoken much about their hearts being drawn out in love to God and Christ, and their minds being wrapped up in delightful contemplation of the glory and wonderful grace of God, and the excellency and dying love of Jesus Christ, and of their souls going forth in longing desires for God and Christ. Several of our young children have expressed much about this, and manifested a willingness to leave father and mother, and all things in the world, to go to be with Christ. Some people have had longing desires for Christ, which have risen to such a degree as to take away their natural strength. Some have been so overcome with a sense of the dying love of Christ for such poor, wretched, and unworthy creatures, as to weaken their body. Several people have had so great a sense of the glory of God, and the excellency of Christ, that nature and life have seemed almost to sink under it. In all probability, if God had showed them a little more of Himself, it would have dissolved their frame. I have seen and conversed with some who have been in such frames, who have certainly been perfectly sober, and very remote from anything like enthusiastic wildness. When they were able to speak of the glory of God's perfections, and the wonderfulness of his grace in Christ, and their own unworthiness, they talked in

such a manner that cannot be perfectly expressed. Their sense of their exceeding littleness and vileness, and their disposition to abase themselves before God, has appeared to be great in proportion to their light and joy.

Commonly, those people among us who have been distinguished with the most extraordinary discoveries of God, in no way appeared with the assuming, self-conceited, and self-sufficient airs of enthusiasts. It was exceedingly to the contrary: they were eminent for a spirit of meekness, modesty, self diffidence, and a low opinion of themselves. No people seem to be as sensible of their need for instruction, and so eager to receive it, as some of them; nor so ready to think others are better than themselves. Those who were thought to be converted among us, have generally manifested a longing to lie low and in the dust before God; and with this, they have complained of not being able to lie low enough.

They very often speak much about their sense of the excellency of the way of salvation, by free and sovereign grace, through the righteousness of Christ alone; and how it is with delight that they renounce their own righteousness, and rejoice in having no account taken of it. Many have expressed themselves to this purpose: that it would lessen the satisfaction they hope for in heaven, to have it by their own righteousness, or in any other way than as bestowed by free grace, and for Christ's sake alone. They speak much about the inexpressibleness of what they experience, and how their words fail, so that they can in no way declare it. And particularly, they speak with exceeding admiration of the superlative excellency of that pleasure and delight of soul which they sometimes enjoy; how even a little of it is sufficient to repay them for all the pains and trouble they've gone through in seeking salvation; and how far it exceeds all earthly pleasures. Some express much of the sense which these spiritual views give them of the vanity of earthly enjoyments, how low and worthless all these things appear to them.

While their minds have been filled with spiritual delights, many have, as it were, forgotten their food. Their bodily appetite has failed, while their minds have been entertained with food to eat that others

know nothing of. The light and comfort which some of them enjoy, gives a new relish to their common blessings, and causes all things around them to appear beautiful, sweet, and pleasant. All things abroad, the sun, moon and stars, the clouds and sky, the heavens and earth, appear to have a cast of divine glory and sweetness upon them. The sweetest joy that these good people among us express, includes in it a delightful sense of the safety of their own state, that they are now out of danger of hell. Yet frequently, in times of their highest spiritual entertainment, this doesn't seem to be the chief object of their fixed thought and meditation. The supreme attention of their minds is to the glorious excellencies of God and Christ, which they have in view. Very often there is a ravishing sense of God's love accompanying a sense of his excellency, and they rejoice in a sense of the faithfulness of God's promises, as they respect the future eternal enjoyment of God.

The joy that many of them speak of is one to which no other is to be paralleled. It is that joy which they find when they are lowest in the dust, emptied most of themselves, and as it were, annihilating themselves before God — when they are nothing, and God is all; seeing their own unworthiness, and depending not at all on themselves, but on Christ alone; ascribing all glory to God. Then their souls are most in the enjoyment of satisfying rest. Except that at such times, they apprehend themselves to be insufficiently selfabased; for then, above all times, they long to be lower. Some speak much about the exquisite sweetness, and the rest for their soul, that is to be found in the exercises of a spirit of resignation to God, and humble submission to His will. Many express the earnest longings of their soul to praise God; but at the same time, they complain that they cannot praise Him as they would, and they want others to help them in praising him. They want to have everyone praise God, and are ready to call upon everything to praise Him. They express a longing desire to live to God's glory, and to do something to His honor. But at the same time, they cry out about their insufficiency and barrenness, that they are poor impotent creatures who can do

nothing of themselves, and are utterly insufficient to glorify their Creator and Redeemer.

While God was so remarkably present among us by his Spirit, no book was so delighted in as the Bible — especially the book of Psalms, the prophecy of Isaiah, and the New Testament. Some, because of their esteem and love for God's word, have at times been greatly and wonderfully delighted and affected at the sight of a Bible. Then also, no time was so prized as the Lord's day; and no place in this world was so desired as God's house. Our converts then appeared remarkably united in dear affection for one another, and many have expressed much of that spirit of love which they felt for all mankind; and particularly for those who had been least friendly to them. Never, I believe, was so much done in confessing injuries, and reconciling differences, as this last year. After their own conversion, people have commonly expressed an exceeding desire for the conversion of others. Some thought they would be willing to die for the conversion of any soul, even one of the meanest of their fellow creatures, or their worst enemies; and many have indeed been in great distress with desires and longings for it. This work of God also had a good effect to unite the people's affections for their minister.

There are some people I have been acquainted with, but more especially two, who belong to other towns, who have been exceedingly swallowed up with a sense of the awful greatness and majesty of God. Both of them told me to this purpose: that if at this time, they had the least fear that they were not at peace with so great a God as this, they would instantly have died.

It is worthy to be remarked that some people by their conversion, seem to be greatly helped as to their doctrinal notions of religion. It was particularly remarkable in someone who, having been taken captive in his childhood in Canada, was trained up in the Popish religion. Some years later he returned to his native place, and in a measure, was led away from Popery. But he seemed uncomfortable, and dull to receive any true and clear notion of the Protestant scheme, till he was converted; and then he was remarkably altered in this respect.

There is a vast difference, as observed, in the degree and also in the particular manner of people's experiences, both at and after conversion. Some have grace working more sensibly in one way, and others in another way. Some speak more fully of a conviction of the justice of God in their condemnation; others more of consenting to the way of salvation by Christ; some speak of the actings of love to God and Christ; some of acts of affiance, in a sweet and assured conviction of the truth and faithfulness of God in his promises; others more of their choosing and resting in God as their whole and everlasting portion, and of their ardent and longing desires for God, and to have communion with him. Others speak more of their abhorrence of themselves for their past sins, and earnest longings to live to God's glory for the time to come; some have their minds fixed more on God, others on Christ, as I observed before, and I am afraid of too much repetition. But it all seems evidently to be the same work, the same thing done, the same habitual change wrought in the heart; it all tends the same way, and to the same end; and it is plainly the same spirit that breathes and acts in various people.

There is an endless variety in the particular manner and circumstances in which people are worked on, and an opportunity to see so much of such a work of God. This shows that God is further from confining himself to certain steps, and a particular method in his work on souls, than maybe some imagine. I believe it has occasioned some good people among us, who before were too ready to make their own experiences a rule for others, to be less censorious and more extended in their charity; and this is an excellent advantage indeed. The work of God has been glorious in its variety, which has further displayed the manifold and unsearchable wisdom of God, and wrought more charity among his people.

There is a great difference among those who are converted, as to the degree of hope and satisfaction that they have concerning their own state. Some have a high degree of satisfaction in this matter, almost constantly. And yet it is rare that any enjoy so full an assurance of their interest in Christ, that self-examination seems needless to them except in particular seasons, while actually enjoying some great

revelation that God gives of His glory, and of His rich grace in Christ, so as to draw forth extraordinary acts of grace. But most, as they sometimes fall into dead frames of spirit, are frequently exercised with qualms and fears concerning their condition.

They generally have an awful apprehension of the dreadfulness and undoing 19 nature of false hope. Great caution has been observed in most, lest in giving an account of their experiences, they say too much, or use overly strong terms. Many, after they related their experiences, have been greatly afflicted with fears that they have played the hypocrite, and used stronger terms than their case would fairly allow; and yet couldn't find how they could correct themselves.

I think that the main ground of the doubts and fears that people have about their own state, after their conversion, has been that they found so much corruption remaining in their hearts. At first their souls seem to be all alive, their hearts are fixed, and their affections are flowing. They seem to live quite above the world, and meet with little difficulty in religious exercises. They are ready to think it will always be so. Though truly abased under a sense of their vileness from former acts of sin, they are not then sufficiently sensible of what corruption still remains in their hearts. And therefore they are surprised when they find that they begin to be dull and dead in their frames, to be troubled by wandering thoughts during public and private worship, and utterly unable to keep themselves from them. Also, when they find themselves unaffected at seasons in which they think there is the greatest occasion to be affected; and when they feel worldly dispositions working in them — maybe pride, envy, stirrings of revenge, or some ill spirit towards someone who injured them, as well as other workings of indwelling sin — their hearts are almost sunk with disappointment. They are quickly ready to think that all they have enjoyed is nothing, and that they are mere hypocrites.

They are ready to argue that if God had indeed done such great things for them as they hoped, such ingratitude would be inconsistent with it. They cry out of the hardness and wickedness of their hearts. They say there is so much corruption that it seems to

them impossible that there should be any goodness there. Many of them seem to be much more sensible of how corrupt their hearts are, than they ever were before they were converted; and some have been too ready to be impressed with the fear that instead of becoming better, they have grown much worse, and they make it an argument against the goodness of their state. But in truth, the case plainly seems to be that now they feel the pain of their own wound. They have a watchful eye on their hearts, that they didn't used to have. They take more notice of what sin is there; and that sin is now more burdensome to them. They strive more against it, and thus feel more of its strength.

They are somewhat surprised that in this respect, they should find themselves so different from the idea they had generally entertained about godly people. For though grace is indeed of a far more excellent nature than they imagined, those who are godly have much less of it, and much more remaining corruption than they thought. They never realized that people usually meet with such difficulties once they are converted. They are thus exercised with doubts about their state, through the deadness of their frames of spirit. As long as these frames last, they are commonly unable to satisfy themselves about the truth of their grace, by all their self-examination. When they near the signs of grace, laid down for them to test themselves by, they are often so clouded that they don't know how to apply them. They hardly know whether they have such things in them or not, or whether they've experienced them or not. They cannot recover a sense or idea of what was sweetest, best, and most distinguishing in their experiences. But upon a return of the influences of the Spirit of God, to revive the lively actings of grace, the light breaks through the cloud, and their doubting and darkness soon vanish away.

People are often revived out of their dead and dark frames, by religious conversation. While they are talking about divine things, or ever aware, their souls are carried away into holy exercises with abundant pleasure. And oftentimes, while they are relating their past experiences to their Christian brethren, they have a fresh sense of

them revived, and the same experiences are again renewed in a degree. Sometimes while people are exercised in mind with several objections against the goodness of their state, they have Scriptures come to mind, one after another, to answer their qualms and unravel their difficulties, exceedingly pertinent and proper to their circumstances. By this means their darkness is scattered. Often, before the bestowment of any new remarkable comforts (especially after long-continued deadness and ill frames), there are renewed humblings, in a great sense of their own exceeding vileness and unworthiness, as there were before their first comforts were bestowed.

Many in the country have been scornful of this great work among us, from what they have heard about the impressions made on people's imaginations. But there have been exceedingly great misrepresentations and innumerable false reports concerning that matter. It is not, that I know of, the profession or opinion of anyone in the town, that any weight is to be laid on anything seen with the bodily eye. I know the contrary to be a received and established principle among us. I cannot say that there have been no instances of people who were ready to give too much heed to vain and useless imaginations, but they have been easily corrected. And I conclude that it won't be wondered at, that a congregation should need a guide in such cases, to assist them in distinguishing the wheat from the chaff. But those impressions on the imagination which have been more usual, seem to me no more than what is to be expected in human nature in such circumstances, and what is the natural result of the strong exercise of the mind, and impressions on the heart.

I don't suppose the affected people imagined they saw anything with their bodily eyes; but only had strongly impressed ideas, and as it were, lively pictures in their minds. For instance, some, when in great terrors through fear of hell, have had lively ideas of a dreadful furnace. Some, when their hearts were strongly impressed, and their affections greatly moved with a sense of the beauty and excellency of Christ, it worked on their imaginations. So that, together with a sense of His glorious spiritual perfections, there has risen in the

mind an idea of someone of glorious majesty, and of a sweet and gracious aspect. So some, when they've been greatly affected by Christ's death, have at the same time a lively idea of Christ hanging on the cross, and of his blood running from his wounds. These things won't be wondered at by those who have observed how strong affections about temporal matters will excite lively ideas and pictures of different things in the mind.

Yet, the vigorous exercise of the mind doubtless more strongly impresses it with imaginary ideas in some people than in others. This probably arises from the difference of constitution; and evidently in some, it seems to partly arise from their peculiar circumstances. When people have been exercised with extreme terrors, and there is a sudden change to light and joy, the imagination seems more susceptible to strong ideas. And the inferior powers, even the frame of the body, is much more affected and worked on, than when the same people have as great a spiritual light and joy afterwards. It might, perhaps, be easy to give a reason for this. The forementioned Rev. Messrs. Lord and Owen, who I believe are esteemed people of learning and discretion where they are best known, declared that they found these impressions on people's imaginations, quite different from what fame had represented to them before. None need to wonder at these things, or stumble over them, or anything to that purpose.

There have indeed been a few instances of impressions made on people's imaginations, that have been somewhat mysterious to me; I have been at a loss about them. For though it has been exceedingly evident to me by many things that appeared in these people, both when they related them and afterwards, that they indeed had a great sense of the spiritual excellency of divine things accompanying them. Yet I haven't been able to satisfy myself well, whether their imaginary ideas have been more than could naturally arise from their spiritual sense of things. However, I have used the utmost caution in such cases. Great care has been taken both in public and private, to teach people the difference between what is spiritual, and what is merely imaginary. I have often warned people not to lay the stress of

their hope on any ideas of outward glory, or any external thing whatsoever. And I have met with no opposition in such instructions. But it isn't strange if some weaker people, giving an account of their experiences, haven't so prudently distinguished between the spiritual and imaginary part. Some who haven't been well disposed to religion, might take advantage of that.

There has been much talk in many parts of the country, as though these people symbolize the Quakers. And the Quakers themselves have been moved by such reports, and came here time and again hoping to find good waters to fish in, but without the least success. They seemed to be discouraged, and have stopped coming. There have also been reports spread ar0und the country, as though the first occasion of so remarkable a concern on people's minds here, was an apprehension that the world was nearing its end, which was an altogether false report. Indeed, after this stirring and concern became so general and extraordinary, as was related, the minds of some were filled with speculation about what so great a dispensation of divine providence might forebode. Some reports were heard from abroad, as though certain divines and others thought the conflagration was near. But such reports were never generally seen as worthy of notice.

The work that has now been wrought on souls, is evidently the same that was wrought in my venerable predecessor's days. I've had abundant opportunity to know that, having been in the ministry here two years with him; and so I conversed with a considerable number that my grandfather thought to be savingly converted in that time. I've been particularly acquainted with the experiences of many who were converted under his ministry before. I know none who in the least doubts its being the same spirit, and the same work. People have not now been subject to impressions on their imagination otherwise than formerly. The work is of the same nature, and has not been attended with any extraordinary circumstances, except those that are analogous to the extraordinary degree of it described before. And God's people who were formerly converted, have now partaken of the same shower of divine blessing in the renewing, strengthening,

and edifying influences of the Spirit of God, that others have in His converting influences. And the work here has also plainly been the same work as that which has been wrought in those of other places that were mentioned, as partaking of the same blessing. I have particularly conversed with people about their experiences, who belong to all parts of the country, and in various parts of Connecticut, where a religious concern has lately appeared. And I have been informed of the experiences of many others by their own pastors.

It is easily perceived by the foregoing account, that it is very much the practice of the people here to converse freely with one another about their spiritual experiences, which is a thing that many have been disgusted at. But however our people may have, in some respects, gone to extremes in it, it is doubtless a practice that the circumstances of this town and neighboring towns, have naturally led them into. Whatever people are in such circumstances, where all of them have their minds engaged to such a degree, in the same affair that it is uppermost in their thoughts, they will naturally make it the subject of conversation with one another when they get together, in which they will grow more and more free. Restraints will soon vanish, and they will not conceal from one another what they meet with. It has been a practice which, in general, has been attended with many good effects, and what God has greatly blessed among us. But it must be confessed, there may have been some ill consequences of it, which are to be laid to the indiscreet management of it, rather than to the practice itself. None can wonder if, among such a multitude, some fail to exercise as much prudence in choosing the time, manner, and occasion of such discourse, as is desirable.

The Instance of Abigail Hutchinson – now deceased

But to give a clearer idea of the nature and manner of the operations of God's Spirit, in this wonderful effusion of it, I would give an account of two particular instances. The first is an adult person, a young woman whose name was Abigail Hutchinson. I focus on her especially, because she is now dead; and so it may be more fitting to speak freely of her than of living instances. However, I am under far greater disadvantages on other accounts, to give a full and clear narrative of her experiences than I might of some others. Nor can any account be given except what has been retained in the memories of her near friends and some others, of what they heard her express during her lifetime.

She was from a rational, understanding family. There could be nothing in her education that tended to enthusiasm, but rather to the contrary extreme. It is in no way the temper of the family to be ostentatious about their experiences, and it was far from being her temper. Before her conversion, as her neighbors observed, she was of a sober and inoffensive conduct, and was a still, quiet, and reserved person. She had long been infirm of body; but her infirmity had never been observed to incline her at all to be speculative or fanciful, or to produce anything of religious melancholy. She was under awakenings scarcely a week, before there seemed to be plain evidence of her being savingly converted.

She was first awakened in the winter season, on Monday, by something she heard her brother say about the necessity of being in good earnest in seeking regenerating grace, together with the news of the conversion of the young woman mentioned before, whose conversion so generally affected most of the young people here. This news worked much upon her, and stirred up a spirit of envy in her towards this young woman whom she thought very unworthy of being distinguished from others by such a mercy. But with that, it engaged her in a firm resolution to do her utmost to obtain the same blessing. And considering with herself what course she should take, she thought that she didn't have a sufficient knowledge of the

principles of religion to render her capable of conversion. Thereupon, she resolved to thoroughly search the Scriptures, and accordingly, she immediately began at the beginning of the Bible, intending to read it through. She continued this way till Thursday. And then there was a sudden alteration caused by a great increase of her concern, and an extraordinary sense of her own sinfulness — particularly the sinfulness of her nature, and the wickedness of her heart. This came upon her (as she expressed it) like a flash of lightning, and struck her into an exceeding terror. Upon which she set aside reading the Bible in the course she had begun, and turned to the New Testament, to see if she couldn't find some relief there for her distressed soul.

Her great terror, she said, was that she had sinned against God. Her distress grew more and more for three days, until (as she said) she saw nothing but blackness of darkness before her, and her very flesh trembled for fear of God's wrath. She wondered and was astonished at herself, that she had been so concerned for her body, and had applied so often to physicians to heal that, and yet had neglected her soul. Her sinfulness appeared with a very awful aspect to her, especially in three things: namely, her original sin; her sin in murmuring at God's providence in the weakness and afflictions that she had been under; and in her lack of duty toward her parents, though others looked at her as excelling in dutifulness. On Saturday, she was so earnestly engaged in reading the Bible and other books, that she continued in it — searching for something to relieve her — till her eyes were so dim that she couldn't read the letters. While she was thus engaged in reading, prayer, and other religious exercises, she thought of those words of Christ, in which he wants us not to be like the heathen, who think they will be heard for their speaking so much. This, she said, led her to see that she had trusted to her own prayers and religious performances. Now she was confounded, and didn't know which way to turn, or where to seek relief.

While her mind was in this posture, her heart, she said, seemed to fly to the minister for refuge, hoping that he could give her some relief. She came the same day, to her brother, with the countenance of a

person in distress, arguing with him as to why he hadn't told her more about her sinfulness, and earnestly inquiring of him, what she should do. She seemed, that day, to feel in herself at enmity against the Bible, which greatly frightened her. Her sense of her own exceeding sinfulness continued increasing from Thursday till Monday. She gave this account of it: that it had been an opinion which she had entertained till now, that she was not guilty of Adam's sin, nor in any way concerned in it, because she was not active in it. But now she saw that she was guilty of that sin, and completely defiled by it, and that the sin which she brought into the world with her, was sufficient by itself to condemn her.

On the Sabbath day, she was so ill that her friends thought it best that she not go to public worship, which she seemed very desirous to do. But when she went to bed on the Sabbath day night, she resolved that the next morning, she would go to the minister, hoping to find some relief there. As she awaked on Monday morning a little before daylight, she wondered within herself at the easiness and calmness she felt in her mind. It was of a kind that she never felt before. As she thought about this, words such as these were in her mind: the words of the Lord are pure words (Psa 12.6), health to the soul, and marrow to the bones (Pro 16.24). And then these words came to her mind: the blood of Christ cleanses from all sin (1Joh 1.7). These were accompanied with a lively sense of the excellency of Christ, and of His sufficiency to satisfy for the sins of the whole world. She then thought of that expression — it is a pleasant thing for the eyes to behold the sun (Ecc 11.7). These words then seemed to her to be very applicable to Jesus Christ. By these things, her mind was led into such contemplations and views of Christ, that they filled her exceedingly full of joy. She told her brother in the morning that she had seen Christ last night (i.e., in realizing views of Him by faith), and that she really thought she didn't have knowledge enough to be converted. But, she said, God can make it quite easy! On Monday she felt all day long a constant sweetness in her soul. She had a repetition of the same discoveries of Christ three mornings in a row, that she

had on Monday morning, and in much the same manner — each time waking a little before daylight, but brighter and brighter every time.

The last time, on Wednesday morning, while in the enjoyment of a spiritual view of Christ's glory and fulness, her soul was filled with distress for Christless people, to consider what a miserable condition they were in. She felt in herself a strong inclination to immediately go out to warn sinners, and the next day she proposed to her brother that he assist her in going from house to house. But her brother restrained her, telling her about the unsuitableness of such a method. She told one of her sisters that day, that she loved all mankind, but especially the people of God. Her sister asked her, Why do you love all mankind? She replied, Because God had made them. After this, there happened to come into the shop where she was at work, three people who were thought to have been recently converted. Her seeing them as they stepped in one after another through the doorway, so affected her, and so drew out her love for them, that it overcame her, and she almost fainted. And when they began to talk about the things of religion, it was more than she could bear — they were obliged to cease on that account. It was a very frequent thing with her to be overcome with a flow of affection towards those she thought godly, in conversation with them, and sometimes only at the sight of them.

She had many extraordinary revelations of the glory of God and Christ — sometimes in some particular attributes, and sometimes in many. She gave an account that once, as those four words passed through her mind — wisdom, justice, goodness, and truth — her soul was filled with a sense of the glory of each of these divine attributes, but especially the last — Truth, she said, sunk the deepest! And therefore, as these words passed, this was repeated, truth, truth! Her mind was so swallowed up with a sense of the glory of God's truth and other perfections, that she said it seemed as though her life was going, that she saw it was easy with God to take her life away by revelations of Himself. Soon after this, she went to a private religious meeting; her mind was full of a sense and view of the glory of God all the time. And when the exercise was ended, some asked her

concerning what she experienced. She began to give them an account, but as she was relating it, it revived such a sense of the same things, that her strength failed, and they were obliged to take her and lay her on the bed. Afterwards she was greatly affected, and rejoiced with these words: Worthy is the Lamb that was slain.

She had for several days in a row, a sweet sense of the excellency and loveliness of Christ in his meekness, which disposed her to continually repeat these words, which were sweet to her, meek and

lowly in heart, meek and lowly in heart. She once expressed herself to one of her sisters to this purpose: that she had continued whole days and whole nights, in a constant ravishing view of the glory of God and Christ, having enjoyed as much as her life could bear. Once, as her brother was speaking of the dying love of Christ, she told him that she had such a sense of it, that the mere mention of it was ready to overcome her.

Once, when she came to me, she told me how at such and such a time, she thought she saw as much of God, and had as much joy and pleasure as was possible in this life. And yet afterwards God revealed himself still far more abundantly. She saw the same things that she had seen before, yet more clearly, and in another and far more excellent and delightful manner, and was filled with a more exceeding sweetness. She likewise gave me such an account of the sense she once had from day to day of the glory of Christ, and of God in his various attributes, that it seemed to me she dwelt for days together in a kind of beatific vision of God, and seemed to have, I thought, as immediate an intercourse with Him as a child does with a father. And at the same time, she appeared most remote from any high thought of herself, and of her own sufficiency, but was like a little child. She expressed a great desire to be instructed, telling me that she longed very often to come to me for instruction, and wanted to live at my house, that I might tell her, her duty.

She often expressed a sense of the glory of God appearing in the trees and growth of the fields, and in other works of God's hands. She told her sister who lived near the heart of the town, that she once thought it a pleasant thing to live in the middle of the town. But now, she

said, I think it much more pleasant to sit and see the wind blowing the trees, and to behold in the country what God has made. She sometimes had the powerful breathings of the Spirit of God on her soul, while reading the Scripture; and she would express a sense that she had of the certain truth and divinity of it. She would sometimes appear with a pleasant smile on her countenance; once, when her sister took notice of it and asked why she smiled, she replied, I am brimful of a sweet feeling within! She often used to express how good and sweet it was to lie low before God; And the lower, she said, the better! She said it was pleasant to think of lying in the dust all the days of her life, mourning for sin. She was prone to manifest a great sense of her own lowliness and dependence. She often expressed an exceeding compassion, and pitiful love, which she found in her heart towards people in a Christless condition. This was sometimes so strong that, as she was passing by such people in the streets, or those whom she feared were such, she would be overcome by the sight of them. She once said that she longed to have the whole world saved — she wanted, as it were, to pull them all to her — she couldn't bear to have one lost.

She had great longings to die, so that she might be with Christ. This increased till she thought she didn't know how to be patient to wait till God's time should come. But once, when she felt those longings, she thought to herself, If I long to die, why do I go to physicians? — from this she concluded that her longings for death were not wellregulated. After this, she often put it to herself, which one she would choose, whether to live or die, to be sick or well, and she found that she couldn't tell, till at last she found herself disposed to say these words: I am quite willing to live, and quite willing to die; quite willing to be sick, and quite willing to be well; quite willing for anything that God brings upon me! Then she said, I felt myself perfectly easy in full submission to the will of God. She then greatly lamented that she had been so eager in her longings for death, because it argued for a lack of such a resignation to God as there ought to be. She seemed from then on to continue in this resigned frame till death.

After this, her illness increased upon her. Once, after she had spent the greater part of the night before in extreme pain, she awakened out of a little sleep with these words in her heart and mouth. — I am willing to suffer for Christ's sake. — I am willing to spend and be spent for Christ's sake. — I am willing to spend my life, even my very life for Christ's sake! And though she had an extraordinary resignation with respect to life or death, yet thoughts of dying were exceeding sweet to her. At a time when her brother was reading in Job, concerning worms feeding on the dead body, she appeared with a pleasant smile. Being asked about it, she said it was sweet to her to think of her being in such circumstances. At another time, when her brother mentioned to her the danger there seemed to be that the illness she then labored under, might be the occasion of her death, it filled her with joy that almost overcame her. At another time, when she met a company following a corpse to the grave, she said it was sweet to her to think that in a little time, they would follow her in like manner.

Her illness, in the latter part of it, was seated much in her throat, and inward swelling filled up the pipe, so that she could swallow nothing but what was perfectly liquid, and only very little of that. With great and long struggling, and stranglings, whatever she took in, flew out her nostrils, till at last she could swallow nothing at all. She had a raging appetite for food, so that she told her sister, when talking with her about her circumstances, that the worst bit she threw to her swine would be sweet to her. Yet when she saw that she couldn't swallow it, she seemed to be as perfectly contented without it, as if she had no appetite for it. Others were greatly moved to see what she underwent, and were filled with admiration at her unexampled patience. At a time, when she was striving in vain to get down a little food, something liquid, and was very much spent with it, she looked at her sister with a smile, saying, O sister, this is for my good! At another time, when her sister was speaking of what she underwent, she told her that she lived a heaven upon earth for all that. She used to sometimes say to her sister, under her extreme sufferings — It is good to be so! Her sister once asked her why she said so! Why, she

says, because God would have it so. It is best that things should be as God would have them. — It looks best to me. After her confinement, as they were leading her from the bed to the door, she seemed overcome by the sight of things abroad, as displaying the glory of the Being who had made them. As she lay on her death-bed, she would often say these words — God is my friend! And once looking upon her sister with a smile, she said, O sister! How good it is! How sweet and comfortable it is to consider, and think of heavenly things! And used this argument to persuade her sister to be much in such meditations.

She expressed, on her deathbed, an exceeding longing, both for people in a natural state — that they might be converted — and for the godly, that they might see and know more of God. And when those came to see her, who looked at themselves as in a Christless state, she would be greatly moved with compassionate affection. One, in particular, who seemed to be in great distress about the state of her soul, and had come to see her from time to time, she desired her sister to persuade her not to come any more, because the sight of her so worked on her compassions, that it overcame her nature. — The same week that she died, when she was in distressing circumstances as to her body, some of the neighbors who came to see her, asked if she was willing to die? she replied that she was quite willing either to live or die. — She was willing to be in pain. — She was willing to be so always as she was then, if that was the will of God. She willed what God willed. They asked her whether she was willing to die that night? She answered, yes, if it is God's will; and seemed to say it all with that perfect composure of spirit, and with such a cheerful and pleasant countenance, that it filled them with admiration.

She was very weak a considerable time before she died, having pined away with famine and thirst, so that her flesh seemed to be dried upon her bones. And therefore she could say but little, and made known her mind very much by signs. She said she had matter enough to fill up all her time with talk, if she only had strength. A few days before her death, some asked her whether she held her integrity still?

Whether she wasn't afraid of death? She answered to this purpose: that she didn't have the least degree of fear of death. They asked her why she could be so confident? She answered, If I were to say otherwise, I would speak contrary to what I know. There is, she says, indeed a dark entry, that looks somewhat dark. But on the other side there appears such a bright shining light, that I cannot be afraid! She said, not long before she died, that she used to be afraid of how she would grapple with death. But, she says, God has showed me that He can make it easy in great pain. Several days before she died, she could scarcely say anything but yes or no to questions that were asked her, for she seemed to be dying for three days in a row. But she seemed to continue to the last in an admirable sweet composure of soul, without any interruption, and died like a person who went to sleep without any struggling, about noon, on Friday, June 27, 1735.

She had long been infirm, and had often been exercised with great pain. But she died chiefly of famine. Doubtless, it was partly owing to her bodily weakness that her nature was so often overcome, and ready to sink with gracious affection. Yet the truth was, she had more grace, and greater revelations of God and Christ, than consisted with her present frail state well. She wanted to be where strong grace might have more liberty, and be without the clog of a weak body. There she longed to be, and there she doubtless is now. She was looked upon among us, as a very eminent instance of Christian experience. This is but a very broken and imperfect account that I have given of her. Her eminency would be much more apparent, if her experiences were fully related as she was inclined to express and manifest them while living. I once read this account to some of her pious neighbors who were acquainted with her. They said to this purpose, that the picture fell far short of the life, and that it particularly failed to duly represent her humility, and that admirable lowliness of heart, that appeared in her at all times. But there are (blessed be God!) many living instances of much the same nature, and in some things, no less extraordinary.

The Instance of Phebe Bartlet – aged four.

But I now proceed to the other instance that I would give an account of, which is of the little child mentioned before. Her name is Phebe Bartlet, daughter of William Bartlet. I will give the account as I took it from the mouths of her parents, whose veracity none who know them doubt.

She was born in March, in the year 1731. About the latter end of April, or beginning of May, 1735, she was greatly affected by the talk of her brother, who had been hopefully converted a little before, at about eleven years of age. Then he seriously talked to her about the great things of religion. Her parents didn't know about it at that time. And usually in the counsels they gave to their children, they did not particularly direct themselves to her because she was so young, and they supposed was not capable of understanding. But after her brother had talked to her, they observed her very earnestly listening to the advice they gave the other children, and she was observed to constantly retire, several times a day (it was concluded) for secret prayer. She grew more and more engaged in religion, and was more frequently in her closet, till at last she habitually visited it five or six times a day. She was so engaged in it that nothing would at any time divert her from her stated closet exercises. Her mother often observed and watched her when such things occurred, as she thought it most likely she could divert her either by putting it out of her thoughts, or otherwise engaging her inclinations; but she never could observe her fail. She mentioned some very remarkable instances.

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