GOD GLORIFIED IN HIS WORKS OF PROVIDENCE AND GRACE. A REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF IT, In the various and signal Deliverances, that ev- idently appear to be wrought for Mrs. MERCY WHEELER, OF PLAINFIELD; Who was restored from extreme Impotence, and long Confinement. PUBLISHED AT THE DESIRE OF MANY. By BENJAMIN LORD, A. M. THE THIRD EDITION. BOSTON: PRINTED IN THE YEAR I743. HARTFORD: Re-printed by ELISHA BABCOCK. 1798.  God glorified in his Works of Providence and Grace, &c. INTRODUCTION. THERE is nothing more evident and uni- versal, than the proof of a Deity, in all those works and wonders, which constantly appear with such marks of uncreated wisdom, power, and goodness, as loudly speak their author, God. For "the invisible things of him, from the creation of the world, are clear- ly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even the eternal power and God- head:" So that they who had only this evi- dence of his being and perfections from ex- isting nature, and that knew God only by the light of nature, and yet glorified him not, as God, were without excuse. And not only are the works of creation, in the vast variety of their natures, in their un- told numbers, in their shining beauties, in their surprising order, harmony, direction and use, such evident proofs of a God; But the works of providence, are alike plain and un- [4] contestible evidences of a supreme Being, that is infinitely wise, powerful and kind. In these he hath not left himself without witness, in that he did good. He the true God did good like a God, and so as no other could do.— And this he doth continually, in a multitude of ways, defending and upholding of us, in life and motion, &c. For, in him we live and move, as well as have our being. Every breath we draw, is by new leave and pow- er from him, and if he should withhold the same one moment, in that moment we should die. Among the innumerable instances of a di- vine and perpetually beneficent providence, some are eminently marvellous, in the prefer- vation, defence and deliverance of his poor. creatures; and demand our most special no- tice, as there are in them the more signal dis- plays of the wisdom, power, care and faith. fulness of a God; and by them, is given a more plain and ample testimony for God.— So that they who remain evil and unthank- ful after all these, are left without excuse, in- deed. And when to all these, is added the most strong and affecting proof of the manifold wisdom and rich mercy of God, in the re- demption of rebel man by Jesus Christ; the obligations to this glorious Being are in- creased beyond expression. And how can a- [5] ny under the gospel, be excused, who don't with warm affections of soul, improve these evidences of the divine Being and benevo- lence to the purposes of their duty and God's glory. But as the proofs of a Deity, which are dis- played all abroad in creation and providence, breaking forth, and shining out from every part of the creation, as also in every scene of providence, are open to all serious observers; So the brighter and more engaging evidences of a God in the revelation and gift of Jesus Christ the saviour, cannot escape the most pleasing observation of all, whose eyes are o- pened to behold the glory of God in the face of his son. Never, O never do the proofs of a Deity shine forth with such satisfying clear- ness and sweet influence, as they do in Christ Jesus; in whom the great and glorious God may be known, and believed in; known and loved; known and rejoiced in and enjoyed forever. This kind of proof, surely cannot fail of having a most solemn, sweet and prac- tical regard from all that have felt the power of it, in their conversion, and blessed confor- mity to God by Jesus Christ. And how often is it, that the subjects whom providence singles out, in a remarkable man- ner, to display the perfections of God upon them, in their deliverance from bodily evils, and so to make them witnesses for him,—are [6] the very same whom grace pitcheth upon too, for the same purpose; in their salvation from sin and Hell. And so, almighty providence, and rich grace eminently meet at the com- mand of Sovereignty, which shines illustrious- ly in them both. Thus it was in the days of our saviour, when the miracles of power, in healing men's bo- dies, were attended with those of grace, in the healing of their souls. And how beautiful the sight now, when in some imitation there- of, the subjects of an extraordinary deliver- ance by providence, do appear to be also the subjects of converting and saving grace. The singer of God, in some new instances of late, has appeared in a very wonderful manner, in healing and restoring persons from long im- potency and confinement; whose difficulties had long baffled all means, and seemed be- yond the ordinary methods of cure. And O how much more of God still has there been in such instances, when they have been hope- fully wrought upon, by almighty sovereign grace too! God's creatures are all his absolute proper- ty, and he may single out which of them he pleaseth to be the distinguished subjects of his power and grace. And this person, of whose deliverances I have undertaken to give some account, has appeared for a long series of years to have been a remarkable subject, and as it [7] were a visible feat of the divine wonders.— God's dealings with her have been very un- common, and even singular all along. And by the whole frame of his dispensations tow- ards her, it has looked as if God might have some reserves of uncommon favour for her, and designs of displaying his sovereign wis- dom, power and goodness in something ex- traordinary with respect to her, as the event now sheweth. Under some of the greatest weight of the hand of providence upon her, there often appeared a wonderful uplifting of the heart and soul, by the power of grace at work in her. And the work of God in her, has ever appeared to bear some proportion to the dealings of God with her. And now, what doth at last so evidently appear to be done for her, seems to have been aimed at, and designed in the whole scheme of provi- dence, and train of events concerning her; so much is it of a piece with the rest. And though no one could pretend to have fore- seen it, yet now it has happened, it doth seem to be some extraordinary result of divine coun- sel and companssion, the fruit of resolute mer- cy, which though contented to appear in slow progress for many years (in order to make the more illuatrious discovery of itself in the close) at length breaks forth and makes its way thro' all difficulty, appears more open, and exerts itself in a very discernable and sur- [8] prising deliverance. A gracious providence (it seems) had for years together before this, been doing enough, in a more gradual way, to fix her, and others attention to God's sig- nal care of her, and to keep up a secret hope of some greater deliverances still; but now, when the set time was come, to favour her with liberty, and to make the divine power and praise the more illustrious; behold, her restoration, must take an unusual stretch, as if the Lord had not forgotten that preroga- tive character of his—The Lord looseth the pri- soners—the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down. And as if he would yet be known in that his incomparable character, Who is like unto thee, O Lord, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders. Verily, he hath re- membred her, in her low estate, for, his mer- cy endureth forever. And this (as, I might observe) has been the issue of much prayer for her, as well as in consequence of great faith, which has appeared to be wrought in her, and exercised by her. But, God chus- eth whom he will to be the subjects of his mercy, he hath mercy on whom he will have mercy. And so he fits, whom he will, in and by them, to make his power and grace known, and to glorify himself before the world. i The design of publishing this account, is not to extol the subject of this deliverance, but the divine author of it. And not to speak [9] of what appears excellent in her any further, than it may seem necessary, to give some am- ple testimony for God, in what he hath done for her. According to her own words, "Oh let the Lord humble me, and let none take notice of me, but for God's sake, and for his honour." And forasmuch, as she seems to view every thing in her, that justly looks well to others, as God's creature and gift, rather than as her excellence; and also to give all that God has any way done for her, back a- gain unto him in acknowledgment and praise, I hope it will not be accounted any transgres- sion of rule, to speak of her as a monument of the mercy and power of God, which can- not be hid. Yea, such an open instance here- of, wherein the Lord hath been pleased to ap- pear in his strength of salvation, Yea, 'tis so far from being the design of this narrative to magnify a poor worm, the subject of it, that it is rather to promote her humility; by let- ting her yet more into herself to see still more of her own vileness and nothingness in the light of the knowledge of God, and of his works of wonder; which are here set before her, as a glass, wherein she may (as in some entire view of God's dealings with her) see what the Lord hath done for her; and this ranged, something in the order of her expe- rience of it. And O let her eyes be turned inward upon herself, as well as lifted up wards A2 [10] to God and Christ, and let her soul be filled with sacred love, gratitude and wonder, that ever the Lord would look upon such a vile creature, and single her out, to be such a monument of his almighty power and grace, Something as it was with poor Mephibosheth, who bowed himself, and said, what is thy ser- vant, that thou shouldst look upon such a dead dog as I am. Furthermore, the design hereof is to fix the remembrance of the doings of the Lord, up- on the hearts of the beholders hereof, and so to impress those truths, and that sense of God and divine things, which some seemed to have received by seeing how great things the Lord had done for her. I have (with others) been sundry times to the place, conversed frequently with her, and seen her the subject of deliverances, as I had before seen her the subject of impotency. I have also made careful inquiry into the mat- ters of fact, concerning her; and got inform- ation of the credibility of the particular wit- nesses to them. And took the utmost care I could, that this might be a just account of things, and have here represented them as they are, in their own native simplicity, without giving any determinate opinion of the precise nature of the deliverance wrought for her, especially in the surprisingly free use of her feet, but leave the reader entirely to judge [11] thereof himself, according as it shall appear to him from the whole. Only observe, that there doth seem, upon the strictest examina- tion into it, to be plentiful matter of the di- vine praise and glory, which I hope is the go- verning design of this history. And in draw- ing out the materials of it, and ranging of things in their own order, it will be something necessary and not incongruous to intermix something of her inward, Christian experi- ence with the train of God's dealings with her: Because the designs of providence and grace, do really appear, to have been in fact, carried on together. And I trust this inter- mixture will relish swell with the serious read- er, as it doth actually reflect a beauty upon the work of the Lord, and a glory to the au- thor. I shall only add this further, that the things here related are what many do know and speak of, without any doubt of the truth and certainty of them. And that the most won- derful even of all, viz. her sudden rising up, and walking and leaping as one at liberty from long impotency, did not happen to her when alone, nor was the thing done in a cor- ner, but a multitude (who had been worship- ping with her at the house) saw it, and won- dered. And since that time, the evidence of her deliverance growing yet stronger, 'tis the opiiion of many serious and judicious person, [12] that it is worthy of notice, among the won- derful works of the Lord, which he will have to be remembered. At whose desire, I have here given the following account, in brief, and in the order as follows. [13] Mr. Lord's Account OF Mrs. MERCY WHEELER. MERCY WHEELER (daughter of Mr. Isaac Wheeler, of Plainfield, and of Sarah his wife) was born in the year 1706, and from a child was favored with a signal measure of health, until the 20th year of her age, wherein she was seized with the nervous fever in the latter end of the summer, in 1726. And thereupon, fell into such weakness as pro- ved almost beyond example. By the summer following she was bro't so low as to be whol- ly confined to her bed, which confinement continued many years. And for several of those years was so reduced, and under such a prevailing fever, that for a great while toge- ther, even every day was expected to be the last. But, before I proceed to give the particu- lar account of her weakness, I must observe, that when first seized with her sickness, she was under some awakenings and concern a- bout her soul, which grew upon her greatly in the time of that sickness, and in about six weeks, her soul-distress rose to a crisis, when she experienced such a change, and received B [14] that comfort, which proved a continuing thing and of permanent service to her, in all her subsequent low estate of body. She appeared very calm and composed in her mind, patient in tribulation, instant in prayer, resigned to the divine will, and serious in her discourse; but otherwise made little or no discovervy of her conversion then. And therefore I shall refer the account of this, to that place in the narrative, where it most naturally comes in, as to the date of her own more explicit rela- tion of it—And further will only observe here, that all along, even in the greatest extremity of her pain and weakness, she had much faith and hope, and comfort in God through Jesus Christ, and often enjoyed sweet communion with him by his word and Spirit, which were abundantly with her. Yea, excepting some seasons of temptations, darkness and fear, she was very comfortable in the whole course of her confinement. And when she could not converse with her friends, by reason of her extreme weakness, she had (by her account afterwards) refreshing converse with Heaven; Infomuch that she would sometimes say,— "Since the Lord was with me in that prison, and made it as a palace to me, with his pre- sence, I could freely go back there, if it was his will that I should." And it seems as if the joy of the Lord was her strength in her weakness and confinement, or else it don't [15] seem how the frame of nature could have kept together so long, under such extraordinary misery and impotency, before any remarka- ble revival of nature at all. And now, that God may have all the glo- ry of upholding her thus, in such a low estate, for so long a time, and at length reviving her; here follows the account of some symptoms of her uncommon weakness and low estate. Her flesh consumed, till she was reduced to a mere skeleton; for her appetite was gone, and she not able to eat, or bear either bread, or flesh of any kind, for the space of five years; and as to provision, supported only, by thin liquid food, and this some of the most mean in nature and dress, that can be ima- gined, and put into her mouth only by spoon- fuls; and them, but three at a time, twice a day, and sometimes but once in a day. Thus it was during these five years, or the greatest part of that term. Her strength had failed to that degree, that she could not move her head upon the pillow, for a great while together, nor yet any limb to help herself at all.—And so weak in this time, that when they turned her in the bed, she often, and usually fainted.—So weak that she could not spit at all, but only opened her mouth, and let her spittle run out of it.—So weak in her vital parts, that her speech whol- ly failed her, so that she was not able to ex- [16] press her thoughts by whispers, to the under- standing of any, but those of the family, who had learnt by the motion of her lips rather than by any distinct articulation, to know her mind in some measure. Her strength so gone in this time, that she scarce opened her eyes at all; and when she did, could hardly see, so as to distinguish persons, whom she had been most acquainted with; and knew but a very few, of all that came to see her. Such was her extreme weakness, that her heart was not perceived to beat in all this time, and she generally lay with her mouth open, panting for breath as if a dying, and as it was thought, sometimes, actually dying; and once, to appearance, gone for a great while, so that they closed her eyes, and thought she would revive no more—Such were the symp- toms of her low state, which divers knew, and have declared from their own knowledge. It may be noticed here, that in this time of her extraordinary weakness a variety of means, with much expence, were used for her, but all in vain, 'till after the experiment of the cold bath. Near the close of this time of her low state, this was once used, and gave such a shock to her feeble frame, that for a month after, her hands were drawn up and fast clenched, and not a joint from her fingers ends to her shoulder, would bend any more than one en- tire bone. Her feet also, were affected in [17] some like manner. However, after this shock it was observed, that means began to operate upon her. Not only were her joints loosen- ed, and her fingers especially, which had been so suddenly contracted, recovered gradually to their proper extension, but she began to re- vive with inward strength. Indeed her knees and ancles did not recover now, nor all along, any thing like to her arms and hands: and even these were not suddenly restored to their use; for still she could not hold so much as a spoon in her hand to feed herself, nor yet kept her fingers out straight, when she held out her arm, but with their own weight, they would drop. But yet she was for some time recovering vital strength before she spake out with an audible voice. Thus after something more than five years from the beginning of her close confinement, she began to mend. And in April, 1732, on the public Anniversary Fast Day her voice was restored to the surprize of them about her; which had these remarkables attending it:— She had been for some time now under a cloud, in which time she besought the Lord, for the manifestations of divine light and love, and prayed that if she was the Lord's, he would be pleased to give her some token for good: And having a great desire (if it might be)so to recover from her long weakness and present darkness, as to be able, to speak of [18] what, she was yet ready to hope, God had done for her, and especially to speak something to her youthful companions: her thoughts ran much upon the liberty of speech, with earnest prayer that this might be restored. And ac- cordingly, it was so, and that very suddenly and surprisingly, so that she spake out audibly, and what she was first heard to say, was, "O what God has done for me now! He hath opened my mouth that hath been shut many years." Upon which she went on talking of God and divine things in an agreeable man- ner: And giving some account of God's deal- ings with her, which she was much disposed to speak of, and withal, expressed a great desire of others conversion, and being devoted to God: But it seemed to her, (as she told me) "That she had never done any thing for God." The use of her Speech now, continued forty- eight hours, and then failed again for about the space of two years. Now it is not supposed that her speech fail- ed at first through any special defect in the or- gans of speech, but rather through universal weakness, and failure of vital strength; so that she was not able to deliver breath enough, to give the air any forcible vibration, to make an articulate found. And when she did speak, (it seems) she had been some time recovering vital strength, which in some measure prepar- ed her for it; and that she spake so suddenly, [19] and with more strength than she had seemed to have yet habitually recovered; might be owing to an extraordinary visit from God at that time. And will it be difficult unto us, to conceive, that what of gradually recovered strength was wanting to enable her to speak out thus, for this season, might be supplied with the extraordinary influence of divine thoughts and of light and comfort in her soul? which for the time being, might possibly dif- fuse such further vigour and strength into her animal frame, and raise her courage with her disposition to exert herself thus, as was suffi- cient for this purpose. For if fear of the Lord (or the vigorous acting of the divine life) is health (or medicine) to the navel, and doth invigorate the feat of animal life; it seems, that, some extraordinary sense of divine truth and love, may do something in a languid state to give new springs to the organs of speech.— Certain it is, that heaviness in the heart of man maketh it stoop: But a good word (of which kind many were spoken to her soul) maketh it glad. And, out of the abundance of the heart, especially when refreshed with divine light and joy, the mouth more readily and powerfully speaketh. It doth seem as if there was something extraordinary in her being able to speak for this 48 hours, while under that powerful sense of divine things; because, she failed again so soon; when yet, afterwards her [20] animal strength appeared much as it was be- fore. And now after this remark, I am not about to say, whether her speaking for this short season, was designed as a spicimen of further favor, in her continued power to speak, nor whether its failure for the two years, might be to try her faith and patience and re- signation; though the event answered well to both—For in these two years it pleased the Lord to give her remarkable quietness of soul, and submission to his will; and though some- times in the dark, yet for the most part, she appeared to know much of God, and as she humbly thinks, was strengthened more to be- lieve and hope in God, 'till her speech was re- stored to her again. But whatever was the design of God in this extraordinory dispensa- tion, or however accomplished; the thing was in fact so, she did speak, and then could not for this term of time, as she and others relate it. Sometime before she spake again, she had recovered strength, so as to be able to sit up in the bed, and feed herself, which was now be- tween Seven and eight years, since she had so far helped herself, and was able to whisper more intelligible than she had done in years before, but, yet not able to speak out—And a little before she did so, she was led to medi- tate on the power of Christ, in his opening the mouth of the dumb man—And on his power to help her in that case of impotency that she [21] was in: at which time, it seem'd as if her faith was greatly assisted, and she enabled to trust in the power of Christ, and was help'd to take courage from the willingness of Christ, to help such a poor creature, as she was. Soon after this, she was enabled to exert herself in the use of speech, even with surprising force and freedom. The people by her, wondered, as they perceived her mouth was opened, and her lips shewing forth the praises of God: And she herself greatly affected with it. Now her heart and mouth was full with the 103 Psalm, ' Bless the Lord, O, my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name, &c.' She called upon others to praise God, with and for her; and wanted that even ' every thing that hath breath should praise the Lord.' Her speech now continued, and is (I trust) through God's grace abundantly used in prais- ing of him. As she appeared very much sub- dued and resigned to God, under her various restraints by providence, So upon every release her Soul seem'd to be the more enlarged in his praise. And in the general course of her extraordinary trials and helps, it was remarka- ble, that she seldom had relief, but she was first made willing to have every thing as God would have it to be. And as this rendered her confinement and low state easy to her, (because she saw it was the will of God, that she should be in that state, and was therefore B2 [22] reconciled to it) so every relief and mercy, both in kind and degree derived its sweetness from its being the pleasure of the Lord to give it to her. When she was very poor, she would say, "I am well enough, because I am just so well as God would have me, and dare not say I would have it otherwise."—And when she was better, she would, say "I rejoice in the ease and help I have, only that "God may be glorified in and by me." After she had the liberty of speech fome time, she more particularly related what God had hopefully done for her soul in the time of her sickness; and especially, that experience of the power of God upon her heart, which, she hopes is a saving conversion to God. Of which, I shall in this place, give the account, as both formerly, and now lately she has relat- ed it—And though it is what she experienced about six weeks after her sickness began; yet forasmuch as she never gave any distinct ac- count of it, till after the restoration of her speech the second time, I conceive this is the most proper place to insert it. And it is as follows: "In the latter end of August 1726, in the 20th year of my age, as I was taking care of my sister in her sickness, and when she was ap- prehensive of death's approach, (appearing to have realising views and to be under the power- ful sense of eternal things) she addressed her- [23] self to me, after this manner, 'Sister, you are young, and of an age very much exposed to temptation—but you should remember, that not your youth will exempt you from the stroke of death, therefore pray consider whe- ther you are prepared for it, &c.'—Which, was a means, by the blessing of God, of put- ting me upon some serious considerations, and not thinking my state to be good, yea, know- ing that I was not prepared to die, and not knowing how soon the hand of the Lord might touch me, or how soon death might come, I felt something concerned about my soul and eternity. And in a few days after viz. on the first of September following, it pleased God to visit me with the same distemper which my sister had; and that, in a terrible manner. And now her words seemed to be verified in this, that my youth was no fence against sick- ness and death, for I was very sick, and death in a frightful view of it, stared me in the face, and I expected no other but to die in a little time. And instead of my former vain mirth, and youthful follies, it seemed as if I must be soon reaping the bitter fruits of them. It pleased God with this sickness, to send his Holy Spirit to convince me of sin, and of my miserable state:—I expected to die, but it was something beyond the grave which my heart trembled and shrunk at the thought and view of. The sins of my life, were now set in [24] order before my face: And even my whole life appeared as one continual act of sin, or series of rebellion against God; and nothing but destruction appear'd before me, as my por- tion. I attempted to cry for mercy, but a sense of my guiltiness, and the terrible appre- hensions of the wrath of God, almost over- whelmed me. Those passages of Scripture in Prov. 1, 24, 29; came to mind, and took hold of me—Because I have called, and you have refused, &c. I also will laugh at your calamity, &c. I saw that I had slighted the offers of grace, yea, been regardless of all the warnings, threatnings, calls and invitations of the word, and set light by all means. And it seemed as if my day of grace was over. My concerns held, and encreased for about six weeks, and in this time it often appeared to me, that I was the most vile and miserable creature in the world. And in my distress and anguish of soul, it seemed sometimes as if I should have been glad to have changed conditions with the beasts of the field, looking upon my case infinitely worse than theirs, for that I had an immortal soul destroyed by sin, which I ex- pected must bear the dreadful wrath of God forever, for the sin of my nature, and the sins of my life, which I saw cleaved to me. Then sometimes, I should have encouragement, that the day of grace was not past, that there might be hope for such an one as I; And was parti- [25] cularly encouraged from these passages, seek ye the Lord while he may be found—They that seek me early shall find me. And now, I was with more courage put upon seeking; if hop- ly God might be found: but then, such text would come into my mind, Without holiness no man shall see the Lord—And the sacrifices of the wicked are an abomination to the Lord. So that I could not get any lasting ease and relief by all my duties—But on the contrary, I was made to see such evil in myself, and sin in every thing I did, that the more I did, the worse I seemed to be, and the more dreadful my case appeared, for that my prayers and all could not help me. It seemed as if I was lost, and could never recover myself, but the more I tried the worse I grew, until my dis- tress was so great, that sleep wholly departed from my eyes, so that I never shut them to sleep for three days and three nights together —And when urged to try for sleep, and to use forcible means for that end, my concern was so great that I dare not, left I should a- wake in hell, and I wondered that I was not there, and saw that I could not charge God with injustice, if he should immediately send me there. "But on the 4th day after I had been thus kept awake by terrible apprehen- sions of God's wrath, and had lain as one ex- pecting the execution of the dreadful sen- tence of overlasting condemnation, and had G [26] seen the justice and righteousness of God, in such a sentence; it pleased the Lord, thro' the unsearchable riches of his grace and mer- cy, unexpectedly to manifest himself, in ano- ther manner, and in and thro' the Redeemer, by these words of the blessed Saviour, in Mat. 11, 28. Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. By which, I was made to see Christ's all-suffici- ency, infinite suitableness, and willingness to save just such a sinful miserable wretch, as I had made myself. It now appeared real, that Christ was calling and inviting me to come unto him; and O the divinity which I saw in the invitation, and in the way of salvation by him: And it Seems as if I was constrained to come (as laden and borne down as I was with my sins) and made to venture my Soul, and eternal all with him. I think I was made to bow to his terms, and resign up my- self to him; and (if I mistake not) found an absolute willingness and desire to take him for my prophet, priest and king; and at the same time found my weary soul refreshed and com- forted, and filled with wonder and admiration at the infinite grace and condescension of the blessed Saviour, that ever he should look up- on one so vile as I am. And when I thought what a glorious Being, and what love and grace I had sinned against, my heart broke under it, and this opened the springs of sor- [27] row: And, oh! blessed be the Lord, the al- mighty physician, who healeth the broken in heart, that of his sovereign grace, he has (as I hope) healed my soul. To him be glory forever." Thus, I have given a brief account of her first notable experience of the work of God upon her soul, which has been followed by an agreeable Christian experience, in the course of her subsequent life, and trials and deliver- ances; something of which will be necessari- ly wrought into the remaining part of the narartive, unto which I now return. In a little time after this continued power to speak, she was able to sit up in the bed, and to have her cloaths on. About which time her sight was restored, so that she could see to read a little, which she had not done for near eight years. As I have observed, her sight failed thro' extreme weakness of bo- dy, aad as her strength increased this was re- stored, and nothing more gradually than this. First she could only distinguish grosser objects, and then lesser, till she could dinguish letters and figures, which she then knew, as well as ever she did, tho' at the same time, she had lost the knowledge of almost all things that had been so long lockt up from her senses. When first carried abroad, just to take the air, and the works of nature opened to her view, they were almost as new and surprising [23] as if they had but then started into being. Indeed, she had almost lost every particular idea and remembrance of the whole existing world without doors, that she ever had any knowledge of; but had made a happy pro- ficiency (even by this time) in the knowledge of divine things, with which she was so con- versant. When she was released from this eight years close confinement to her bed, and could bear the air a little, she more evidently recovered strength; and in about three years more had gained so much as to be able to be held up in some erect posture, and so by degrees to be led, or rather carried and borne up be- tween two, shoving her feet along carefully upon the floor, left they turned aside: for even at this time, her ancle bones were ex- ceeding loose and separate, by reason of the long and great relaxation of the nerves and tendons, that she could in no wise lift them up and use them, as persons are wont to do, that yet have not strength to walk without help: yea, So loose and Separate were they, that a string must sometimes be used about her feet and ancles, to keep her feet in any proper position, as she lay in the bed. And also, her kney-bones were so weak and loose, that after she was able to turn herself in bed, she sometimes put them out in dong this. But yet in the main, she gradually recruit- [29] ed, excepting in some intervening fits of the pleurisy and other fevers, and various distem- pers, which retarded her recovery from her long weakness; for, as it was observed there was scarce any distemper sent into the place, but she had a share of it. Twice she had the throat distemper. The first time she was sei- zed with it, the was under the effects of it from October to the July following, before any great revival. At the last time, which was in August 1740, she had it so bad, that she was obliged to take to her bed again, and never could help herself more, any thing con- siderable, till the last day of the May after. This now, was going back again into the depths, where she was tried with new scenes of Providence, but, supported also, with new supplies of grace. At these seasons, she had great trials, and great consolations, to balance them. She gave me the account thus—'Once I was near choaked, and tho't I should die. And was ready to hope for it, if it might be the will of God. My evidences for Heaven then, O how clear were they? I had great comfort in God—I can't tell how great. Upon some a- batement of my distemper, I was sorely exer- cised with extreme hunger for bread, but must not have it. I thought I should gladly have taken it out of the mouth of the dogs, if I might have it. A little after I saw a piece [30] of bread given to a dog, which wro't strange- ly on my mind, and proved a temptation to uneasiness, which brought on great darkness. Could I belong to God, (said I to myself) when denied the bread that was given to the dogs! Oh, how it seemed for a little while! Clouds and darkness covered my soul. But in this time, those words in Isa. 41, 10. came to mind, Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God: I will streng- then thee, yea, I will help thee, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness: Which were improved upon my heart, first to bow me to the will of God, and afterwards to comfort me. After these, were given in these words, in Mat. 4, 4. Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word which pro- ceedeth out of the mouth of God. Oh how was I helped thereby? And then was repeated the former words in Isa. Fear not, &c. which came now with great power and consolation. And about three days after, I was able to take bread safely, and was refreshed and strength- ened thereby. But, I was made to see that I had been sinfully impatient in the desires of death, for it appeared evident to me, that I ought to wait God's time; and also, that I had been out of frame under the other trial. It seemed sometimes, as if God chastened me to make me willing to die, and chastened me to make me willing to live; yet in neither, [31] must be my own chuser: But, to live or die, as he pleased—And it came to that, that I was many times afraid to chuse any thing for myfelf here, left I should cross the will of God.' This only for a specimen of her ex- periences under the dealings of Providence. When this last mentioned illness was over, and the hysteric disorders, which had mixed in with all, were abated, she mended by more sensible degrees; so that on the 25th of July 1741, she began to go with crutches; bear- ing her weight with them, and slipping her feet carefully along upon the floor; for they were not yet capable of their proper use and motion, by reason of the forementioned re- laxation which still continued. In this man- ner she went at times, for the course of ten months, in which term she often made trial of her strength to go without crutches; and on the very day of her great deliverance she gat up and stood alone, as she held her hands on her knees to steady herself; but could not lift up a foot to take a step. And never in all this course of 16 years did go one step a- lone, until that wonderful event happened, on the remarkable 25th of May last; which seemed so visibly to crown all that Providence had done for her before. I shall here distinctly tell what preceeded, attended, and followed it: in which method the reader may have the clearer view of it. [32] The Rev. Mr. Coit, the aged Minister of Plainfield, at this time, who had been officious and kind to this distressed woman, (various ways so) was especialiy attentive to her case in this; that (after her deep sense of religion and desirous to give glory to God, by con- fessing Christ before men, as openly as she could) he did, at her request, go with his church to her father's house (as he himself informed me, sometime after the first edition of the narrative) to receive her profession of faith, and take her into full communion with thom.—And as the neighbouring ministers, with Mr. Coit, had frequently, at her desire, attended religious fasts and lectures at her fa- ther's house; so now, at her request, a lec- ture was appointed to be there on Wednesday this 25th of May, and the Rev. Mr. Lord, of Preston, invited to preach it. On the Satur- day evening before, she had a very painful sense of her infirmities, and also an extraor- dinary experience of the power and sweetness, of God's word; which both supported her under her present trouble, and also encoura- ged her faith in God, and hope that it might be better with her. Thus, God strengthened her with strength in her soul, and so propor- tioned th& ftrength to the day. For, in this tioned of her great exercise, with pain in her disordered joints, and with weakness in her vital parts, the Lord appeared for her in the [33] use of his word, as he had been wont to do. And first he set home that word upon her heart, Let patience have its perfect work. The sight she now had of the will of God in her affliction, that all was as God, the wise, the good and faithful God would have it, toge- ther with the view she had of her own un- worthiness of any favour, greatly promoted her patience and submission. Then came that direction and promise to her mind, in Rev. 2, 10.—Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life, which greatly encou- raged her to hold out. And then, as if she must have a more abundant consolation, those words in John 11, 40.—If thou wouldst be- lieve, thou shouldst see the glory of God, were brought home with great power upon her soul, which led her to view the help there was for her in God, in the way of believing; and from that time such was the powerful impression of that word, that she could not help thinking that God would some way or other, glorify himself in her further and re- markable deliverance. Thus her mind wro't from day to day, till she had a strong persua- sion that she should be healed, and that the power of God would be seen in it, though she knew not how. And whatever suspicion she had at times, that her faith in this matter was not of God, and whatever temptations she had to struggle with, which sugested to C2 [34] her, that all her faith about being healed was delusive, yet it prevailed over all discourage- ment and opposition, and kept up for the most part during these three or four days till her deliverance came. On the evening before the lecture, her pains were very great, and her ancles (as she observed) disordered and separate as usual, yet she staggered not thro' unbelief, but was enabled, (as it seemed to her) to believe against hope, i. e. against all human probability; for all hopes of healing in the ordinary way, seemed to be cut off, and a doctor just before, upon the view of her disordered joints, had said he tho't she would always be a cripple: But yet her faith was strengthened to that degree, that it did not seem to her any thing the more difficult for God to heal her, because her state was as it was. So far from this, that her faith seemed to rise the highest, when her own difficult state appeared the plainest. And, notwith- standing every discouragement in nature, she remained persuaded, that God would glorify himself in her healing, and her thoughts ran much upon its being done on the lecture-day at hand. On the morning of that day, her faith grew stronger still, and she could not help thinking, that she should see the glory of God that day; but, this no way served to supersede or prevent her earnest prayer to God for healing. For, she felt her soul let [35] out much in seeking to the Lord Jesus to heal her. And her faith was more and more strengthened by meditating on the miracles of Christ; especially, on his healing the poor impotent man, that had lain so long at the pool. It seems it had been the Lord's man- ner with her, to encourage and help along her faith and hope, by directing her to the view of his miracles, wrought upon one and another, wherein she had often a clear rep- resentation of her impotent case; and also a soul reviving view of the power of Christ; so she had at this time, and it did not seem difficult to her, to think that the Lord could and would help her. With this faith she en- tered the day; and was strong in faith, and disposed to give glory to God: her mind in an extraordinary raised frame; and could scarce keep from expressing it out full.—When Mr. Lord came to attend the service appointed, she had a great desire to tell him what she had lately met with, and what her particu- lar faith was about her healing; but could not do it. And when she saw how she was restrained from it, it appeared to her, that it was best she should keep her faith to herself, left by publishing it there might be an expec- tation among the people of something extra- ordinary, or otherwise, that improvement be made of it, which might not be for the glory of God. Mr. Lord began with prayer; and [36] however earnest therein for her, yet it seemed to her, as if he was not so earnest for her healing, as he used to be at other times.— For, so intent was her mind on God's glori- fying himself in her healing, and he not hav- ing any such particular faith as she had, was not led to express himself so fully answerable to her raised thoughts of this particular thing. However, she seemed to be in a very happy frame in prayer and singing. And when Mr. Lord proceeded to the sermon, though it was trying, and kept her tho'ts employed much in self-examination, yet it did not lower her faith, but tended all to strengthen her. He preached from Isa. 57, 15. I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a con- trite and humble spirit, to revive the spirit of the humble; and to revive the heart of the con- trite ones.—After he had given some descrip- tion of the humble heart, and had spoke of the gracious presence of God, promised to, such an one, &c. he proceeded to examine, whether thus humbled?—She thought she could answer to his rules of trial, and say a- men to them, and take the comfort thersof. After he had gone thro' with his examinati- on, he said, 'The Lord will revive the hearts of the humble, and if you are truly humble, God will revive you; depend upon it, he will, and fear not. Yea, if for his glory, he will revive and bring you out of a furnace.' [37] Which seemed to sink into her heart, as if the Lord did indeed set it home by his spirit: Then by the power of the word upon her soul, she fell a trembling; but this without any diffidence and terror; for it was given to her, at that time, to believe that the Lord would revive and help her, and bring her out. This involuntary shaking now, continued but a few minutes; and nothing in her behaviour was there to interrupt the religious exercise of the people. Her mind and heart kept up, in a raised frame; but yet she was composed thro' the whole, and was more and more con- firmed in it, that the Lord would shew his glory in helping her. After service was over. Mr. Newel asked her how she was; but she was too much overcome to tell how. And when she began to speak, it was something abruptly—(somewhat like as the spouse, when overcome with discoveries, begins thus—The voice of my beloved:) plainly shewing that her mind was full of thought, and that her ideas crowded so fast to the door of outlet, that they could not observe the justest order in their expression and manner of coming forth. She was now set upon the bed, something spent and overcome. Mr. Lord came and sat down by her, and discoursed with her a litile, but soon perceived her to be too much overcome for any conversation almost; she express a great desire of submitting to the D [38] will of God: but could not help talking a- bout her healing, and said, she saw that Christ was willing to heal her. Upon which Mr. Lord replied, that she should have the will of Christ concerning her. But by this time she was so overpowered with the sense of God (as she expressed it) that she could hardly speak, and could not tell what to compare herself to, but an atom drowned in the sea; so swallowed up was she with the thoughts and sense of God, and every way surrounded with his power. And then only observed to Mr. Lord, that it seemed to her as if God was with her of a truth—and so stopped— Upon which he replied, 'If so, then you are well of it, and I will leave you for the pre- sent,' which he thought best; because she was much spent, and he was afraid she would be quite overcome with any more conversa- tion then. So he gat up and walked away among the people, that were yet tarrying in the house. And no sooner was he gone from her, but it turned in her mind—The Lecture is ended, and the service all over, and I am not healed; what is become of my faith now? Won't it be with me as it used to be? Whereupon a cloud of great darkness came over her, for a minute or two; in which time she was led a- gain into herself, to see what a poor unworthy creature she was, and had some such thoughts of the wisdom and goodness of God's will, [39] that she felt a disposition to be as God would have her be. Then those words were repeat- ed to her,—If thou wilt believe, thou shalt see the glory of God. By which her darkness was carried off, and under the influence of this word, now, she seemed (as she exprest it) to be wholly taken out of herself, into the hands of God; and enabled to believe that he could and would heal her.—Immediately up- on which, she felt a strange irresistible motion and shaking, which began first with her hands, and quickly spreading over her whole frame; in which time she felt a kind of weight upon her; a sort of racking of her frame; every joint as it were, working; and as if she was with hands squeezed together in her weak places. As this trembling went off, her pains went with it, and she felt strong, especially in the feat of life, where she had been most re- markably weak; and from thence strength disfused itself all over her animal frame, into her hips, knees, ancles, &c. She felt strong and well, as if she had no disease upon her, and was under no difficulty. And as she had this sensation of new strength and freedom, she felt as if she was a raising up, and must rise; and immediately rose up and walked a- way among the people, with evident spright- liness and vigour, to the astonishment of her- self and those about her. She went this time near 16 feet, crying out,'Bless the Lord Je- [40] sus, who has healed me!' But was soon damp- ed with this thought, that she was only in a phrenzy, and not healed; and the more so, when Mr. Lord (surprised at seeing her walk thus, whom he had just before left impotent and overcome too, so that she could hardly talk) did observe to her, that she was in a phrenzy, and accordingly took hold of her and led her to the bed, and bid her sit down; yea, even thrust her down. But she could not be confined there; feeling yet strong and at liberty, she quickly rose up again, with those words in her mind, I have loved thee with everlasting love, and with the high prai- ses of God in her mouth. Her soul being filled with such admiration and love, as she declared was inexpressible. Now she walked several times across the room with strength and steadiness; which even constrained the people to think and say, verily, this is the power of God! And they wondered, and praised the same. And it was about six o'- clock in the afternoon when the thing was done, at which they all marvelled, and hav- ing united in a prayer, and in praise, on this remarkable occasion, they were dismissed to their several homes, still wondering and re- voicing at what their eyes had beheld, and their ears had heard that day. Thus I have related the matter as exactly as I could have it, both from others and her- [41] self. And as it may be expected by some, in such a matter as this, here follow some testimonies to her state before and after this event, related; which, when I have inserted, I shall go on with the history, and relate briefly the consequences of the event, which will exhibit further proof of the reality of it. "The testimony of Philip Spaulding, of Plainfield, &c. of lawful age, testifieth and faith, That living near Mr. Isaac Wheeler's, father to Mercy Wheeler, who has for many years past, lain confined and unable to walk, and being at the house, her mother desired me to look on her feet, and see how her an- cle-bones were parted. I did so, and felt on them, and they were parted so that I could lay the ball of my thumb between them, and her feet seemed to me, to turn any way, as though they had no strength in them. And further faith the deponent, that being at the house, the next morning after the Rev. Mr. Hezekiah Lord preached there, I observed that Mercy had the use of her feet to my ad- miration." "The testimony of Doctor James Girauld, of lawful age, testnieth and faith, That some- time in the month of May last, being at the house of Mr. Isaac Wheeler, his daughter Mercy desired me to look at her ancle joints, and the bones of her ancles were parted to [42] my admiration. They were so parted from their proper place, that I could lay the ball of my thumb between the bones, and I fur- ther say, that I was there the next day after Mr. Lord preached at the house, and observ- ed Mercy acknowledging the goodness of God in her sudden relief, and she desired me to view her ancles now; I did so, and the bones were drawed up to their proper place, to my admiration." "The testimony of Benjamin Wheeler, of lawful age, testifieth and saith, That being at Isaac Wheeler's house, sometime before Mr. Lord preached there in May last, his wife, de- sired me to look on Mercy's feet. I did so, and the bones of the ancle joints were parted from each other." Plainfield, June 20th, 1743. Then the above named Philip Spaulding, James Girauld, and Benjamin Wheeler, all personally appeared, and made oath to the above written evidences.—Before me, Timothy Pierce, Assistant. Now to return to the narrative, and to speak particularly of the consequences of this event, from the close of that day on which it happened, and so forward to this day— I have given account of her walking alone, and with evident tokens of new strength, in the presence of many witnesses, on that day of her deliverance. So She continued able [43] to walk all the evening after, went to bed, stood up and undrest herself, which she had not done before in 16 years. She lay down to rest, believing in God, and giving thanks for the wonders he had done, but thro' the abundance of thought, slept but little that night. Sometime in the night felt such re- turn of her pains, as gave her to think, God was about to try her: and moreover it was suggested to her, Though you have had strength to walk, yet it will be soon taken away, and how will you bear that?' But this temptation was presently over, as she felt her will bowed to the will of God, and it seemed to her, as if she was made willing to go back again to prison, if it was the pleasure of the Lord, that she should; and the whole term of her being there, now seemed short to her, from the sweet review she had of God's pre- sence with her there. In the morning her pains continued, but her faith, tho' tried, fail- ed not. As soon as the light favored her, she reached for her bible, and began to read, and found new strength by the word. Tho' it had been darted into her mind, 'You won't be able to rise and walk, she found present relief by that word—All things are possible to him that believeth. And reading the account of three miracles which Christ wrought, she was still more encouraged and strengthened in her faith—Her pains abated, and it seem- [44] ed as if she was bid to arise. She rose up and drest herself, without help, which she had not done before in all the time of her weakness. When dressing herself, it came into her mind to view and feel of her ancles, which she found to her admiration and thank- fulness, were closed and firm, where before they were separate and loose. As on the o- ther day, when she was, as it were, taken by the hand and lifted up, she perceived that im- mediately her feet and ancle-bones received strength. So now, she saw, that they were closed up, as they never had been before in all her impotency. And so, she had an evi- dence of her healing, from sight as well as sense. She drest, and walked, praising God. After having walked about the he use a while, she went abroad, and over to her brother's house, about twelve rods. This was all new exercise to her, and opened to her new ob- servations, and let in new reflections. And the discovery and sense of God in her late de- liverance, seemed so reflect a new light upon if every thing she saw and met with. She could turn her eyes no way, but the world about her seemed full of the evidence, of a God and Providence, which served to keep her soul at work, and in its exercise of love and duty to God. On this day, viz. the day after her deliv- erance, Mr. Newel (who was then preaching [45] at Plainfield) preached a sermon at her father's house, from those words in John 5, 14. Afterwards Jesus findeth him in the temple, and said unto him, behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, left a worse thing come unto thee;— Which proved a seasonable word unto her, as thereby she was taught the danger which those are yet in of sinning, who have been the sub- jects of great deliverances, and so was led to see her danger of pride, sloth, unthankfulness, &c. And as she had discovered a great de- sire to be, and even a persuasion that she should be in the house of God the next Sab- bath; so in hearing this sermon she was much confirmed therein. And accordingly, on the very sabbath following (though cloudy and rainy, and before she had been used to the air much) she was enabled to ride to the house of the Lord, which was near three miles; and had not been upon a horse in sixteen years before. As she was passing thereto, it was suggested to her. 'You are got from your fa- ther's house, and going where you know not, and it may be will never return.' Upon which, she had a thought of being carried back, directly; but the temptation was repel- led with that word, They that trust in the Lord shall be as Mount Zion, which cannot be moved. And (as she exprest it) it seemed to her as though the Lord, by a strong hand brought her to his sanctuary, where she was enabled D2 [46] to attend on the public worship all the day, without pain or weariness, or taking any cold. On the first day of June, Mr. Lord, of Pres- ton, preached a public lecture there from Acts 3, 6-10. And immediately his feet and ancle- bones received strength, and he leaping up, stood and walked, and entered with them into the tem- ple, walking and leaping and praising God, and all the people saw him walking arid praising God. Which were so true to her, that, on that day she entered with them into the temple walk- ing, &c. and all the people saw it.—On the 14th of June, another sermon was had there, from Mat. 15, 28. And she said, truth Lord, yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters table. Then Jesus said unto her; O woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee e- ven as thou will—Shewing that humble im- portunity and faith, are victorious over all dis- couragements. Very eminently verified in her case. She attended to all appearance as a spectacle of men and angels; unmoved at the numerous beholders; unmoved with any thing but her great salvation, and God's glo- ry therein. After this public exercise, she walked from the meeting-house to a private one many rods. She has been able to walk ever since, and generally has attended the public worship on sabbath days, from the first, and begins to travel abroad into other towns. The last week she rode to Norwich, [49] which is 15 miles; and was at the public worship and communion with us the last Sab- bath; and walked both to and from the house of God, morning and evening. Thus evident is her restoration, and increas- ing strength and health also. For, never did she, in all her former revivals, recover health, nor ever could she take food and sleep for that purpose, as now since this last deliver- ance. And for this reason has the narrative been the more readily delayed unto this time, that days might give the stronger proof of what was so sudden and surprising, Thus it constantly appears to have been no phrenzy of her's, that she first walked; but a fact, and work of the Lord; for she has done so many months, and is as like to do so still as- any other person. And a further testimony for God is yet exhibited in her moral conduct. She walk- eth praising God wherever she goes. It seems as if her soul was in health and prospered.— She appears to have an abiding sense of God upon her soul, and to walk up and down in the light of God's countenance; rejoicing in God and Jesus Christ as her all: but with great self-diffidence and cautionary fear, left she should some way or other dishonor God, and be a stumbling block to men. And so I shall close up the narrative, with giving the reader a specimen of her daily reflecti- [48] ons and breathings of soul, in her own lan- guage— "Scarce one day now do I look abroad, but the works of creation shew me God, and lead me to him: and yet dare not say that I live one minute as I ought—I want to see more of the dealings of God with me, that I might live more to him—Oh how should I live! entirely devoted to God, as my con- stant end and all—If I could praise God, it seem that I should be content in any condi- tion that he would have me in—Oh what a life should I live?—Never a soul so indebted to God as I am. It was the lowest stoop that ever Christ made, when he looked upon me—When I think how he has passed by thousands, and had mercy on me, the vilest of all, how surprising!—'Tis only because he will have mercy on whom he will have mer- cy—And yet how unthankful am I!—My heart is surely worse than others. O my in- gratitude!—How good is God and how ho- ly!—It Seems that I never did any thing— And without Christ I can do nothing—I long that Christ may be all; and what is all else compared with him!—Oh that I may live wholly on him, and to God by him!—But I am afraid to speak left it would be to shew myself: and yet I know that if others have any thing to boast of, I have nothing where- of to glory. O that God would humble me, [49] and glorify himfelf." Such kind of reflec- tions and breathings go into her daily con- versation. And was it the observation that Christ made of his disciples? I am glorified in them—May this be eminently true of her;. and let all that has been here said, be so re- ceived, that Christ may be glorified in and by her. Yea, when Christ comes to be glorifi- ed in his saints, may he be admired in her as in all them that believe. Norwich, October 14, 1743. FURTHER ACCOUNT. At the desire of Col. Elisha Williams, after he returned from England; I added a few lines in one of the Copies, he sent back there, in the following POSTSCRIPT. Norwich, June 20, 1752. AT this distance from the date of the fore- going narrative, it may be observed for the satisfaction of a foreign reader, that this Mrs. Mercy Wheeler is yet a living instance of the same kind Providence, and kinder grace, which at first sprang her surprising deliverance. Though subject to often infirmities (as oth- er weakly persons) yet her former impotency E [50] has never returned upon her; but rather is she capable of walking, and of business, as far as consists with her weakly constitution; and a great blessing to those about her, in respect of her increasing virtue and piety; as if the author of her salvation had determined, it should not be the work and wonder only of a day or a year, but some continued thing. And so hath he made his wonderful works to be remembered, by holding up to this day, the living image of his power and grace. She appears one of the most humble, mo- dest, stedfast, lively Christians, that is.—The longer she lives a subject of so great a deliver- ance, the brighter evidence she exhibits of the grace of God, that has formed her what she is. In the midst of her trials, which she has en- dured of one kind and another, and especially of the attempts of some, to draw her off from the faith and order of the gospel, into some wildnesses in conduct; she yet shines as a remarkable example of meekness, patience, love, faith, fortitude and unshaken constancy in religion, and other lovely divine virtues, which used to form persons for the delight of God and Jesus Christ, angels and men. Benja. Lord. N. B. This account was sent home by col. Williams, and there accepted with satisfac- tion by those that wanted to hear further of her. [51] FURTHER ACCOUNT. NOW, at this date, 28 years from the May 25th, 1743, the memorable day of her deliv- erance, the subject of the foregoing narrative yet lives, a kind of monument of God's work of wonder, in the free use of her limbs as ev- er (it seems) and in a measure of health, for one of her tender make. Some years since, she married to Mr. Jon- athan Case of Lebanon, and now the pious and pleasant companion of his life.—'Tis an- imating to hear her account of the satisfac- tion of soul she has under the ministry where Providence has cast her lot, and to observe her improvement in Christian knowledge, faith and duty; where she is some ornament and credit to her prosession, and the delight of her Christian neighbours. Whatever has been, and is said of her, to the advantage of her Christian character, she will take notice of, only as it reflects a great- er honour on the name of God, who has ma- nifested his power and grace to so poor and worthless a creature in herself. And what- ever (let it be mercy or affliction) that helps her to see more of God and Christ, will pro- portionably encrease the like temper of heart with Job, Now mine eye seeth thee, I abhor my- self, and repent in dust and ashes. Amen. BENJAMIN LORD. Norwich, Dec. 6, 1771. REDEMPTION. BE humble, ye high hills; bow your lof- ty-tops, ye towering cedars; hide your heads, ye dwellings of the proud; peace, ye winds; be still, ye waves; silence, ye roar- ing tempests, and rocking whirlwinds! 2. Doth not awful silence become you, while we speak of the wonderful agony of our God? 3. Silent and abashed ye were when he suffered: now attend, while a sinner hears the glad tidings, while the voice of great joy breaks into the heart and house of mourning. 4. Behold that cross! lift up thine eyes, and wonder—son of man, behold and adore. 5. Was ever goodness like the goodness of thy God?—was ever mercy like his mer- cy?—was ever sorrow like his sorrow?—lis- ten and be silent; abominate thyself, and cleave to thy Redeemer. 6. Lo, yonder he is stretched!—lo, yon- der he bleeds!—lo, yonder he hangs on the accursed tree!—the son of God!—the meek, the mild, the blessed Jesus! a horrid specta- cle! between earth and heaven! 7. Even the holy angels hide their heads and weep! 8. What then shall man? for whom the son of the Almighty is thus raised aloft on the tree of infamy! thus stretched out! thus [53] bleeding! thus expiring in tortures incon- ceivable, and far above the reach of human thought! 9. His stony heart should melt—his melt- ing heart should weep great drops of blood. 10. Behold no diadem of gold adorns his Savour's head: no costly jewels sparkle round his brows: his crown is only a sharp crown of thorns—his jewels, crimson rubies of his own most precious blood! 11. Oh canst thou then contemplate, and be cold? canst thou survey such sufferings and not pity? art thou a man? art thou not a sinner? canst thou reflect? oh, canst thou remember, all, all is for thee—and still be ungrateful! 12. See! through the crashing sinews of thy benevolent Redeemer's tender hands the hardy executioner hath driven the piercing, sharp-pointed nails! 13. The blood springs forth at each bar- barous blow—and the triumphant sufferer a- mid such agony complaineth not: child of affliction! wilt thou then ever dare to com- plain? 14. Blessing and health fell from those hands—they dropped comfort as the honey- comb—why, oh man, art thou an enemy to thyself? 15. Why hast thou thus prevented the hours of thy own felicity? why are those [54] hands transfixed and confined? why nailed to yon ignominious tree, the feet which un- wearied went about doing good? 16. See how the sovereign healer of man- kind—see how the love of God and man hangs on those four great wounds! his whole body's weight horribly supported by the a- cute agony of those afflicting lacerations! 17. How can I, sinful dust and ashes, how can I, oh my Lord, dare to contemplate thy wounds and sorrows, without the lowest pros- tration of soul and body!—how can I behold thee thus suffering, and my heart not burst at the sight, and rivers of tears not gush from my eyes! 18. Oh I will love thee. I will adore thee above all things! yea, thy love shall be the constant meditation of my soul. 19. Hear, my soul! for it is the last voice of thy expiring Redeemer—hark, for all na- ture is silent! and make a solem pause—E- loi, Eloi, lama sabacthani! 20. Eloi, Eloi, lama sabacthani;—what words can utter that distress, or who can ex- press thy agonies? 21. My God—oh wast thou forsaken of thy father—why, ah why, unsearchable depth of anguish! 22. "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by?-behold and see, if ever sorrow was like unto my sorrow, wherewith the lord hath af- [55J flicted me in the day of his fierce anger?" 23. Thus long since spoke the prophetic voice—Here was the full completion: here sin and death were triumphant, and here were poured forth the last struggles of mine, and every condemned sinner's Soul! 24. My God, it is finished: it is finished! —oh my Saviour, why that last and piercing groan? 25. I see thy head falling upon thy sacred bosom—I see and tremble to behold the won- drous mystic stream flowing from thy pre- cious side! 26. I hear thy expiring groan—universal nature heareth it, and standeth aghast—the affrighted sun veils in thick darkness his ex- tinguished splendor—the earth shaketh ex- ceedingly—the mountains tremble with fear and astonishment—the rocks are rent—the graves are opened—the dead arise—and the day is turned into night, for the light of the world ceaseth. 27. Sinner! it was thy God, who thus suf- fered in thy nature, that thou mightest par- take of his, and not die the death eternal. 28. Sinner! his name is Jesus. 29. For thee he took that name, that he might save thee from thy sins, that he might redeem thee from the wrath of the father, and become thy propitiation and ransom. 30. Adore and wonder; be hunnble and [56] fear: so shall thy bofom feel the divine ray —and thy heart burn with new comforts. 31. Sinner! his name from all eternity is Jehovah: for thee he submitted to be called Saviour. 32. Oh rejoice that Jehovah is thy strength and support: sing with the voice of sweetest melody—"Jehovah is my Jesus and Redeem- er." 33. Meditate hereon, and be meek: look on that cross, and learn if thou canst fathom its depth—whence such love to thee. 34. Let the name Jesus obtain a place and dwell in thy heart: thy fears will then van- ish as the early dew before the sun: thou shalt find peace. THE THREE WARNINGS. THE tree of deepest root is found Least willing still to quit the ground; 'Twas therefore said, by ancient sages, That love of life increas'd with years, So much, that in our later stages, When pains grow sharp, and sickness rages, The greatest love of life appears. This great affection, to believe, Which all confess, but few perceive, [57] If old assertions can't prevail, Be pleas'd to hear a modern tale. When sports went round, and all were gay On neighbour Dobson's wedding-day, Death call'd aside the jocund groom With him into another room: And looking grave, "You must" says he, "Quit your sweet bride, and come with me." "With you, and quit my Susan's side! With you!" the hapless husband cry'd: "Young as I am! 'tis monstrous hard! Besides, in truth, I'm not prepar'd: My thoughts on other matters go; This is my wedding-night, you know." What more he urg'd I have not heard, His reasons could not well be stronger; So Death the poor delinquent spar'd, And left to live a little longer. Yet calling up a serious look, His hour-glass trembled while he spoke "Neighbour, he said, "farewel! No more Shall Death disturb your mirthful hour: And further, to avoid all blame Of cruelty upon my name, To give you time for preparation, And fit you for your future station, Three several warnings you shall have, Before you're summon'd to the grave: Willing for once I'll quit my prey, And grant a kind reprieve; In hopes you'll have no more to say, But, when I call again this way, E2 [58] Well pleas'd, the world will leave." To these conditions both consented, And parted perfectly contented. What next the Hero of our tale besel, How long he liv'd, how wise, how well, How roundly he pursu'd his course, And smoak'd his pipe, and strok'd his horse, The willing muse shall tell: He chaffer'd then, he bought, he sold, Nor once perceiv'd his growing old, Nor thought of Death as near; His friends not false, his wife no shrew, Many his gains, his children few, He pass'd his hours in peace; But while he view'd his wealth increase, While thus a long Life's dusty road The beaten track content he trod, Old Time, whose haste no mortal spares, Uncall'd, unheeded, unawares, Brought on his eightieth year. And now one night in musing mood, As all alone he fate, Th' unwelcome messenger of Fate Once more before him stood. Half kill'd with anger and surprise, "So soon return'd!" old Dobson cries. "So soon, d'ye call it!" Death replies: "Surely, my friend, you're but in jest, Since I was here before, 'Tis six-and-thirty years at least, And you are now fourscore." [59] 'So much the worse,' the Clown rejoin'd; 'To Spare the aged would be kind: Besides, you promis'd me Three Warnings, Which I have look'd for nights and mornings. 'I know,' cries Death, that at the best, I seldom am a welcome guest; But don't be captious, friend, at least; I little thought you'd still be able To stump about your farm and stable; Your years have run to a great length, I wish you joy though of your strength. 'Hold,'says the Farmer, 'not so fast, I have been lame these four years past.' 'And no great wonder,' Death replies, 'However, you still keep your eyes; And sure to see one's loves and friends, For legs and arms would make amends.' 'Perhaps,' says Dobson, 'so it might, But latterly I've lost my sight.' 'This is a shocking story, faith, Yet there's some comfort still,' says Death; 'Each strives your sadness to amuse; I warrant you hear all the news.' 'There's none,' cries he, 'and if there were, I'm grown so deaf I could not hear.' 'Nay, then,' the Spectre stern rejoin'd, 'If you are lame, and deaf, and blind, You've had your three sufficient Warnings: So come along no more we'll part,' He said, and touch'd him with his dart; And now old Dobson turning pale, Yields to his fate—so ends my tale.