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In the Memoirs of Brainerd, under the date of Sept. 13, 1747, the
reader will find mention of a Mr. Job Strong, a candidate for the
ministry, whom Brainerd, immediately before his death, recommended to
the commissioners in Boston, as a missionary to the Indians; and in
the 4th Reflection on those Memoirs, an interesting 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 of the friends of the family in that place.
From her I learned the following anecdote.--The Rev. Mr. Moody, of
York, a gentleman of unquestioned talents and piety, but perfectly
unique in his manners, had agreed, in case of Mr. Edwards's failure,
to be his substitute in preaching the sermon. On the morning of the
appointed day, Mr. Edwards not having arrived, the council delayed the
ordination as long as they well could, and then proceeded to the
church; where Mr. Moody had been regularly appointed to make the
introductory prayer, which 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 pleasant 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
which 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 providence, 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 Northampton;" 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 well 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. Edwards, (then in the house,) who, though a very
worthy and amiable young lady, was 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, before a very numerous
audience, to listen to the very high character given of himself by Mr.
Moody. As soon as the prayer was closed, Mr. Moody turned round, and
saw Mr. Edwards behind him; and, without leaving his place, gave him
his right hand, and addressed him as follows: "Brother Edwards, we are
all of us much rejoiced to see you here to-day, and nobody, probably,
as much so as myself; but I wish that you might have got in a little
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 intend to flatter
you to your face; but there's one thing I'll tell you: They say that
your wife is a going to heaven by a shorter road than yourself." Mr.
Edwards bowed, and after reading the Psalm, went on with the sermon.
His text was John xiii. 15, 16. and his subject, "Christ the Example
of Ministers." It was soon after published.
To his daughter, who prolonged her visit some time after the return of
her father, he addressed, during her visit at Portsmouth, the
following letter.
"To Miss Mary Edwards [32] , at Portsmouth.
Northampton, 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 welfare, 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 sickness, 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 reason to apprehend,
that you died without the grace and favour of God! It is comfortable
to have the presence of earthly friends, especially 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.
My 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 prosperous 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 remaining 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 forget
God, and particularly, that you do not grow slack in secret religion.
Retire often from this vain world, 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, pleasures, 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 welcome. After you are come to
Boston, I would have you send us word of it by the first opportunity,
that we may send for you without 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 I 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 reply to
the second letter of that gentleman, written in the autumn of 1748.
[33]
"Northampton, April 2, 1750.
rev. and dear sir,
I received your favour of September 19, 1748, the last summer, 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 correspondents 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.
I have had no leisure or opportunity to write any letters to Scotland,
from that time till now, by reason of my peculiar and very
extraordinary circumstances, on account of the controversy which has
arisen between me and my people, 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 controversy, 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 England; 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 would 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 dulness that I
thought so. However, I perceive I was not understood. I cannot find
out by any thing you say to me on this head, that we really differ in
sentiments, but only in words. I acknowledge with you that `all are
bound to believe 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 command, to believe instantly on
Christ, and at all seasons, nor excuse him, in any degree, for not
believing. Even when one wants the influence and grace of the Spirit,
still he is bound to believe.' I think the obligation to believe, lies
on a person who is remaining without spiritual light or sight, or even
in darkness. No darkness, no blindness, no carnality or stupidity,
excuses him a moment for not having as strong and lively a faith and
love, as ever was exercised by the apostle Paul, or rather renders it
not sinful in him, that he is at that same moment without such a faith
and love;--and yet I believe it is absurd, and of a very hurtful
consequence, to urge persons to believe in the dark, in the manner,
and in the sense, in which many hundreds have done in America, who
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, careless, and senseless. Their doctrine evidently comes to
this, both in sense and effect, that it is a man's duty strongly to
believe with a lightless 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, attended 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 what follows in your letter, that a person'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 man'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 believing it, depends on our own immediate sensation or
consciousness, and not on divine testimony. 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 the major proposition,--Whosoever believes shall
be saved,--is properly of the nature of faith; because the ground of
my assent to that, is divine testimony; but my assent to the minor
proposition,--I believe,--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 in 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 New England, believes. There is such a proposition in
the Scriptures, as that Christ loves those that love him; and this,
therefore, every one is bound to believe and affirm: and believing
this, on the divine testimony, is properly of the nature of faith,
while for any one to doubt it, is properly the heinous sin of
unbelief. But there is no such proposition in the Scriptures, nor is
it any part of the gospel of Christ, that such an individual person 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 inward
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, that we may not dispute in the dark, it is necessary, that we
should explain what we mean by a person's believing that he is in a
good estate. If thereby we mean only believing the minor of the
foregoing syllogism, or similar syllogisms,--I believe; or, I 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 believing 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 knowing of his present acts depends on immediate
consciousness, and the knowing of his past acts depends on memory.
Hence the fulness of my satisfaction, that I now have such an inward
act or exercise of mind, depends on the strength of the sensation; and
my satisfaction, that I have had them heretofore, depends on the
clearness of my memory, and not on the strength of my reliance on any
divine testimony. So likewise, my doubting whether I have, or have
had, such individual 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 memory 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 testimony for its
foundation. But his believing that Rebekah was the damsel who had
these individual marks, his knowing that she came 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 compass
and latitude, as one branch of unbelief, one ingredient in unbelief;
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 appertains to the essence of
saving faith, or that saving faith, in all that belongs to its
essence, yea its perfection, cannot be without implying it, I must
humbly ask leave to differ from you. That my believing 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 faith which brings him into such a state. And
therefore believing that he is in such a state, cannot be one thing
which is essential or necessary, in order to his being in such a
state; for that would imply a contradiction. It would be to suppose 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, I
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 saving faith be first complete.
Therefore the completeness of the act of saving faith will not make it
take in a belief of this proposition, nor will 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, I 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, in 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 extant, 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 part, branch, or ingredient of
faith. So I do not dispute whether a man's doubting of his good
estate, may be a consequence of unbelief, and I doubt not but it is in
those who are in a good estate; because, 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 entirely a different thing from the sin of
unbelief itself, and has nothing 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 I have such individual
principles and acts in my soul. Take it in a complex sense, and it may
have the sin of unbelief 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 its works in us in all its parts just as it is;' and a little
before, `the believer's doubting whether 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 diversity
from yours. I think, if it be allowed to be sinful for a believer 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 difference 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 works 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 work 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 from the sin of
unbelief. So, if we suppose that a very eminent Christian is to blame,
in doubting whether he has so much holiness as he really has; he
indeed does not believe the reality of God's 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 carnality and stupidity. `Tis
sinful to be without assurance, or, (as we say,) it is his own fault;
he sinfully deprives himself of it, or foregoes it; as a servant's
being without his tools is his sin, when 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 weakness or blindness of body, in their own
nature, are sin, for they are qualities of the body, and not of mind,
the subject in which sin is inherent. It is indirectly the duty 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 directly 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 other
privileges of saints that are their duty indirectly, and the want 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 think 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 implied what I
never intended. Doubtless if a saint comes out of an ill frame,
wherein grace is asleep and inactive, it must be by renewed 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 the 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 revive shall be faith, and that
this shall lead the way to the renewed acting of all other graces, and
to the further acting of faith itself. But a person's coming 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 words, in a
frame wherein grace is so far from being in strong exercise, that it
is asleep, and in a great measure without exercise.
There is a holy hope, a truly christian hope, of which the Scriptures
speak, that is reckoned among the graces of the Spirit. And I think I
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 called a duty. But it
is just as absurd to talk of the exercises of this 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, while remaining in such a frame. It is doubtless proper,
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 unholy hope, to a strong hope which
is no christian grace, but strong and wicked presumption; and the
promoting of this has most evidently been the effect of such a method
of dealing with souls in innumerable multitudes 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
assurance 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 which 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 observe that he says, chap. ii. `I said
I am cast out of 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 these 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 Sir, does
that prove that he remained still in a careless secure 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 awakened, and saw the furious
storm, and owned 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 compassed him about, even to the soul, and, as
he says, all God's waters and billows passed over him, and he was
ready to despair when he 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 prison, that he could never escape, when the earth with her bars
was about him for ever, 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,' &c. He was evidently first awakened out of carelessness and
security, and brought into distress, before he was comforted.
The other place you also must insist on, concerning the people of
Israel, is very similar. Before God comforted them with the
testimonies of his favour after their backslidings, he first, by
severe 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 ways with thorns, and made a wall that 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 him. This passage is parallel with Jer.
iii.. They illustrate and explain each other, and show that it was
God's way of dealing with his people Israel, after their apostacy,
first to awaken them, and under a sense of their sense and misery, to
bring them solicitously to seek his face, before he gave them sensible
evidence of his favour; and not first to manifest his favour to them,
in order to awaken them out of their security [34] .
In Jer. iii. the prophecy is not concerning the recovery of
backsliding saints, or the mystical church, which, though she had
corrupted 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 renounced, 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 married unto her, for
that was not true, and is not consistent with the context. And whereas
it is said, verse 14. Jer. iii. 14. `Return, O backsliding children,
saith the Lord; for I am married unto you, and I will take you one of
a city;' I am married, in the Hebrew, is in the preterperfect tense;
but you know, Sir, that in the language of prophecy, the preter tense
is very commonly put for the future. And whereas it is said, verse 19.
`How shall I put thee among the children? And I said, Thou shalt call
me My father;' I acknowledge this expression here, My Father, and in
Rom. viii. 15. is the language of faith. It is so two ways: 1st. It is
such a 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 him, 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 salvation 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 herself 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, &c. Thus God offers himself to sinners as their
Saviour, 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 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 the vanity of other saviours and refuges, not only
before she has the 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 question it, that
the saints' hope and knowledge of their good estate, is in many cases
of great use to help them against temptation, and the exercises of
corruption.
With regard to the case of extraordinary temptations and buffetings of
Satan, which you mention, I do not very well know what to say further.
I have often found my own insufficiency as a counsellor 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, whence 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 proper exercise of
christian charity, and the likeliest way I know for relief. I kept no
copy of my former letter to you, and so do not remember fully what I
have already 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 advice, 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, all sorts of
duties, duties to God, public, private, and secret, and duties to man,
relative duties of business and conversation, family duties, duties of
friendship and good neighbourhood, duly proportioning labour and rest,
intentness and relaxation, without suffering one duty to crowd out or
intrench upon another. If such persons could be persuaded to this, I
think in this way they would be best guarded against the devil, 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 revelations, I have
thought of it, and I find I cannot say any thing to purpose, without
drawing out this letter to a very extraordinary length, and I am
already got to such length, that I had need to ask your excuse. 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 acknowledge the subject
you mention is very important. Probably if God spares my life, and
gives me opportunity, I may write 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 religion in this place and this land, it is at
present very sorrowful and dark. But I must, for a more particular
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*."
_________________________________________________________________
[28] Kaunaumeek was an Indian settlement, about five miles N. W. from
New Lebanon, on the main road from that village to Albany. The place
is now called Brainerd's Bridge, and is a village of a few houses, on
the Kayaderosseras 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 beautifully in the valley beneath, and
forms a delightful 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 hillock 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 following the
stream, I discovered an old Indian orchard, the trees of an Indian
burying ground, 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 short time.
[29] This, and several other Scotticisms, I do not feel at liberty to
alter.
[30] He was 66 years old the 8th day of January last.
[31] This Mr. Robinson was a young minister of eminent gifts and
graces: I think, belonging to Pennsylvania, but had some time
preached, with great success, in Virginia, in various parts; but died
a few years ago in his youth.
[32] Afterwards Mrs. Dwight, of Northampton.
[33] See page cxxxvii
[34] This is evident by many passages of Scripture: as, Lev. xxvi.
Matthew-42. Deut. xxxii. 36-39. 1 King viii. 21, 22; i. 4-8. .Ezek. xx. 35,
36, 37. Hos. v. 15; vi. 1-3. xii. 9, 10; xiv..throughout.