*Wednesday, May 7. I spent most of the day in writing, and enjoyed freedom in my work. I was favoured with comfortable meditations, this day, and in the evening, was in a sweet composed frame of mind: pleased and delighted to leave all with God, respecting myself, for time and eternity, and respecting the people of my charge and dear friends: I had no doubt but that God would take care of me, and of his own interest among my people; and was enabled to use freedom in prayer, as a child with a tender father.
*Thursday, May 8. In the evening I enjoyed a tender melting frame in secret prayer, wherein my soul was drawn out for the interest of Zion, and comforted with the lively hope of the appearing of the kingdom of the great Redeemer. These were sweet moments: I felt loth to go to bed, and grieved that sleep was necessary. However, I lay down with a tender reverential fear of God, sensible that “his favour is life,” and his smiles, infinitely better than life itself.
May 9. I preached in the open wilderness; the Indians having as yet no house for public worship in this place, nor scarce any shelter for themselves.——Divine truths made considerable impressions, and it was a season of solemnity, tenderness, and affection.
I baptized this day, the [♦]conjurer and murderer mentioned before, such a remarkable instance of divine grace, that I cannot omit some brief account of him.
[♦] “conjuror” replaced with “conjurer”
He lived near, and sometimes attended me in the Forks of Delaware for more than a year together; but was extremely attached to strong drink, and seemed to be no ways reformed. In this time he likewise murdered a young Indian, which threw him into a kind of desperation, so that he kept from me, and refused to hear me preach for several months, till I had an opportunity of conversing freely with him, and giving him encouragement, that even his sin might be forgiven for Christ’s sake.
But that which was the worst was his conjuration. He was one of them who are called powwows among the Indians: and notwithstanding his attendance upon my preaching, still followed his old charms, “giving out that he himself was some great one, and to him they gave heed,” supposing him to be possessed of a great power. So that when I have instructed them respecting the miracles wrought by Christ, and mentioned them as evidences of his divine mission, they have quickly observed the wonders which this man performed by his magic charms; which seemed to be a fatal obstruction to their receiving the gospel. And I often thought, it would be a great favour to the Indians, if God would take that wretch out of the world: but God, “whose thoughts are not as man’s thoughts,” has been pleased to take a much more desirable method; a method agreeable to his own merciful nature, advantageous to his own interest among the Indians, as well as to the poor soul himself.
The first genuine concern for his soul was excited by seeing my interpreter and his wife baptized at the Forks of Delaware, July 21, 1745. Which so prevailed upon him that he followed me down to Crosweeksung in the beginning of August, and there continued for several weeks in the season of the most powerful awakening among the Indians; at which time he was more effectually awakened: and then, he says, upon his “feeling the spirit of God in his heart,” (as he expresses it) his spirit of conjuration left him entirely; that he has had no more power of that nature since, than any other man. And he declares that he does not so much as know how he used to charm and conjure; and that he could not do any thing of that nature, if he was ever so desirous.
He continued under convictions all the fall, and former part of the winter past, but was not so deeply exercised till January; and then the word of God took such hold upon him, that he knew not what to do, or where to turn.—He then told me, that when he used to hear me preach from time to time in the fall of the year, my preaching pricked his heart, but did not bring him to so great distress, because he still hoped he could do something for his own relief: but now, he said, I drove him up into “such a sharp corner,” that he had no way to turn.
He continued under the heavy burden of a wounded spirit, till he was brought into the utmost agony of soul.