*Friday, October 19. I had an abasing sense of my own unholiness; and felt my soul melt and mourn, that I had grieved a gracious God, who was still kind to me, notwithstanding all my unworthiness. My soul enjoyed a sweet season of sorrow, that I had wronged that blessed God, who was reconciled to me in his dear Son. My soul was now tender, devout, and solemn: and I was afraid of nothing but sin; and afraid of that in every action and thought.
Wednesday, October 24. Near noon I rode to my people; spent some time, and prayed with them: felt the frame of a _pilgrim_ on earth; longed much to leave this gloomy mansion; but yet found patience and resignation. As I returned home from the Indians, I spent the whole time in lifting up my heart to God.
In the evening I enjoyed a blessed season in prayer; was enabled to cry to God with a child-like spirit: enjoyed a sweet freedom in supplicating for myself, and for my dear friends: and longed to be as lively in God’s service as the angels.
*Friday, October 26. In the morning my soul was melted with a sense of divine goodness to such a vile worm; I delighted to lean upon God, and place my whole trust in him: my soul was exceedingly grieved for sin, and prized and longed after holiness; it wounded my heart deeply, yet sweetly, to think how I had abused a kind God. I longed to be perfectly holy, that I might not grieve a gracious God: I longed for holiness more for this end, than for my happiness sake: and yet this was my greatest happiness, nevermore to dishonour, but always to glorify the blessed God.
Wednesday, October 31. I was sensible of my barrenness: my soul failed when I remembered the fervency I had enjoyed. Oh (I thought) if I could but be spiritual, warm, heavenly minded, and affectionately breathing after God, this would be better than life to me! My soul longed exceedingly for death, to be loosed from this dulness, and made ever active in the service of God. I seemed to live for nothing, and to do no good: and Oh, the burden of such a life! Oh, death, death, my kind friend, hasten and deliver me from dull mortality, and make me spiritual and vigorous to eternity!
Thursday, November 1. I felt life, and longings after God; I longed to be always solemn, devout, and heavenly-minded; and was afraid to leave off praying, lest I should again lose a sense of the sweet things of God.
Friday, November 2. I was exercised sorely with some things that I thought myself most of all freed from. And thus I have ever found it, when I have thought the battle was over, and the conquest was gained, and so let down my watch, the enemy has risen up and done me the greatest injury.
[The next day he set out on a journey to New-York, to meet the Presbytery there: and was gone from home more than a fortnight. He seemed to enter on this journey with great reluctance; fearing it would cool his religious affections. But, yet, in his journey he had special seasons of God’s gracious presence. He was greatly fatigued therein by cold and storms: and when he returned from New-York to New-Jersey, was very ill for some time.]
Wednesday, November 21. I rode from Newark to Rockciticus in the cold, and was almost overcome with it. But I enjoyed sweetness in conversation with Mr. Jones: my soul loves the people of God, and especially the ministers, who feel the same trials that I do.
*Thursday, November 22. I came on my way to Delaware river, tho’ much disordered with a cold and pain in my head. About six at night I lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks and mountains, down hideous steeps, through swamps, and most dreadful and dangerous places: and the night being dark, I was greatly exposed: I was much pinched with cold, and distressed with an extreme pain in my head, attended with sickness at my stomach; so that every step I took was distressing to me. I had little hope, but that I must lie in the woods all night. But about nine o’clock I found a house, and was kindly entertained. Thus I have frequently been exposed: but God has hitherto preserved me; blessed be his name. Such fatigues and hardships serve to wean me from the earth; and will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed, I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of a comfortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts; but now these have less place in my heart, (through the grace of God) and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribulation, and it does not now appear strange to me. I do not in seasons of difficulty flatter myself that it will be better hereafter; but rather think, how much worse it might be; how much greater trials others of God’s children have endured; and how much greater may be reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the thoughts of my journey’s-end a great comfort to me, under my sharpest trials: and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror; but frequently with great joy.