Samuel Davies Was Born 300 Years Ago

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"I can tell you that I am as happy as perhaps Creation can make me: I enjoy all the Necessaries and most of the Conveniences of Life; I have a peaceful Study, as a Refuge from the Hurries and Noise of the World around me; the venerable Dead are waiting in my Library to entertain me, and relieve me from the Nonsense of surviving Mortals; I am peculiarly happy in my Relations, and Providence does not afflict me by afflicting them. In short, I have all a moderate Heart can wish; and I very much question if there be a more calm, placid and contented Mortal in Virginia.” Samuel Davies, August 1751 Letter to John Holt

Samuel Davies was 300 years ago on this day in history, November 3, 1723, near Bear, Delaware. His parents were David and Martha Thomas Davies, and were of Welsh descent. He was a "son of prayer," and thus Samuel was named by his mother for Samuel the prophet. Originally, the Davies family was Baptist, but Martha came to embrace Presbyterian doctrine and her family was put out of the Baptist church. Samuel was educated first, it is believed, by William Robinson (who would later play such an influential role in Davies' pastoral career) at the English school at Hopewell (New Jersey) Presbyterian Church, and later at the Faggs Manor (Pennsylvania) academy run by Samuel Blair, who was not only a mentor, but a dear friend. 

Birthplace of Samuel Davies, near Bear, Delaware (photo by R. Andrew Myers).

In July 1743, William Robinson preached the first Presbyterian sermon ever delivered in Hanover County, Virginia. The people of Hanover were so thankful for his ministry that they took up a collection, which Robinson ensured was used to assist Samuel's theological education. Three years later, Davies was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of New Castle. He was ordained to the ministry in February 1747, and commissioned as an evangelist to minister to the congregation at Hanover, Virginia, and surrounding counties. He traveled south with John Rodgers, and became settled in his new Virginia home, accepting a call to serve as pastor of the Polegreen Church, beginning a very fruitful ministry. Davies earned the title "Apostle to Virginia" and "Apostle of the Great Awakening in Virginia." One particular focus of his ministry involved the spiritual care of slaves within his ecclesiastical bounds.

1862 sketch of Polegreen Church before it was destroyed in 1864.

Historic Polegreen Church in Mechanicsville, Virginia, as it appears today.

He was married to Sarah Kirkpatrick in 1746. She and her unborn son died the following year. In 1748, Davies married Jane Holt, whom he called "Chara," and with whom they had six children, one of whom died at birth. Jane was the muse who inspired several of Davies' poems. 

Davies and Gilbert Tennent traveled to the British Isles in 1753-1755 on a fundraising mission for the College of New Jersey, and the journal that Davies kept to record his experiences has been published. In 1759, he was called to serve as President of the College of New Jersey, replacing Jonathan Edwards. His departure from Hanover was painful for him because of the love he had towards his flock, but he answered what he believed was the call of duty. He set about cataloguing the library and his brief tenure at Princeton was very much appreciated by students and Trustees alike. 

He was the author of some treatises, as well as many letters, hymns (he is considered the first American-born hymn-writer), poems and sermons, some of which were published in his lifetime, and which were published in several volumes posthumously. His preaching helped to inspire frontier men who were fighting in the French and Indian War, and one person in particular who was deeply impressed with his homiletics was Patrick Henry, who a generation later became one of America's greatest orators. Davies was referred to by Martyn Lloyd-Jones as "the greatest preacher you have ever produced in this country."

On January 1, 1761, Davies delivered his Sermon on the New Year on the text Jer. 28:16, stating “it is not only possible but highly probable, that death may meet some of us within the compass of this year.” Like previous Presidents of the College of New Jersey who had preached on this passage, such as Jonathan Edwards and Aaron Burr, Sr., Davies did indeed die in the selfsame year. He contracted a cold, and after bleeding by a physician, he got an infection and became mortally ill, breathing his last at home on February 4, 1761, at the age of 37. He was laid to rest at Princeton Cemetery, and his funeral sermon was preached by Samuel Finley. Thomas Gibbons, who preached a sermon commemorating Davies' life and death in England, published the first set of Davies' sermons in 1766. Notable biographies of Davies include George W. Pilcher, Samuel Davies: Apostle of Dissent in Colonial Virginia (1971); Dewey Roberts, Samuel Davies: Apostle to Virginia (2017); and Joseph C. Harrod, Theology and Spirituality in the Works of Samuel Davies (2019). 

Grave of Samuel Davies at Princeton Cemetery, Princeton, New Jersey (photo by R. Andrew Myers).

He once told his auditors: "Whatever, I say, be your Place, permit me, my dear Youth, to inculcate upon you this important instruction, IMBIBE AND CHERISH A PUBLIC SPIRIT. Serve your Generation. Live not for yourselves, but the Publick. Be the Servants of the Church; the servants of your Country; the Servants of all. Extend the Arms of your Benevolence to embrace your Friends, your Neighbors, your Country, your Nation, the whole Race of mankind, even your Enemies. Let it be the vigorous unremitted Effort of your whole Life, to leave the World wiser and better than you found it at your Entrance (Religion and Public Spirit: A Valedictory Address to the Senior Class, Delivered in Nassau-Hall, September 21, 1760 [1762])." It can certainly be said of Davies that he left the world wiser than he found it.

Samuel Davies on 'the Venerable Dead'

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It was on this date in history — August 13, 1751 — that Samuel Davies (1723-1761) from Hanover County, Virginia wrote to his brother-in-law, John Holt, residing in Williamsburg, Virginia, a memorable summary of his feelings at that time.

Davies was then 27 years old. He had married his second wife Jane (his term of endearment for her was “Chara”) in 1748, and by this date they had two children, and another would be born the following year. A month before, in July 1751, Davies had lost his dear friend and mentor, Samuel Blair, of whom he wrote poetic tributes. In late June Davies had written a letter to Joseph Bellamy, a Congregational pastor residing in Bethlehem, Connecticut, which would later be published under the title The State of Religion Among the Protestant Dissenters in Virginia (1751) and then republished under a different title: An Account of a Remarkable Work of Grace, or, The Great Success of the Gospel in Virginia (1752). Though there were struggles and disappointments, yet, this was a period in Samuel Davies’ life that was filled with optimism and that is reflected in a poem he wrote, soon to be published in January 1752 within his collection of Miscellaneous Poems, titled Gratitude and Impotence, in which he pours out a desires to offer more praise to God than he thus does because he has so much for which to be thankful:

My Breast with warmer Zeal should burn,
With deeper tend’rer Sorrows mourn,
Than Gabriel that surrounds the Throne,
Than any Wretch beneath the Sun.

Imagine Davies, at home with his “Chara,” as well as with little William and Samuel, Jr., in his humble library, perhaps with Jonathan Edwards’ Life of David Brainerd (which he loaned to a friend in September 1751) on his desk; or the verse and prose of Joseph Addison, whom he described to John Holt in a letter a few days previously as “our favorite”; and perhaps extracts from Edward Young’s Night Thoughts, which he asked John to procure for him the following month, and of which he was to say, “of all the poetical Pieces I ever read, the Night thoughts, I think have been most serviceable to me; and I shall keep them as my companion, till I commence an Immortal.”

The memorable words which Davies wrote to Holt on August 13, 1751 are these:

I can tell you that I am as happy as perhaps Creation can make me: I enjoy all the Necessaries and most of the Conveniences of Life; I have a peaceful Study, as a Refuge from the Hurries and Noise of the World around me; the venerable Dead are waiting in my Library to entertain me, and relieve me from the Nonsense of surviving Mortals; I am peculiarly happy in my Relations, and Providence does not afflict me by afflicting them. In short, I have all a moderate Heart can wish; and I very much question if there be a more calm, placid and contented Mortal in Virginia.

Three years later, on July 21, 1754, while in England with Gilbert Tennent fundraising on behalf of the College of New Jersey (Princeton), that Davies wrote in his diary words that hearken back to that very special place and feeling described above: “How do I long for Retirement in my Study, and the Company of my Chara!”

Presbyterians Lost in the Woods

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To be lost in the woods at night is a fearful thing — much more so perhaps in the age before GPS and cell phones. Imagine what it was like for an 18th century Presbyterian missionary traveling on horseback through unfamiliar places in the dark without road signs. Then take note of not only the human fears that would be experienced, but also the spiritual lessons gleaned.

David Brainerd, missionary to the Native Americans, wrote in his journal on November 22, 1744:

Thursday, Nov. 22. Came on my way from Rockciticus to Delaware River. Was very much disordered with a cold and pain in my head. About 6 at Night, I lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks and mountains, down hideous steeps, thro' swamps, and most dreadful and dangerous places; and the night being dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was greatly exposed; was much pinch’d 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 for several hours together, but that I must lie out in the woods all night, in this distressed case. But about 9 o'clock, I found a house, thro' the abundant goodness of God, and was kindly entertained. Thus I have frequently been exposed, & sometimes lain out the whole night: but God has hitherto preserved me; and blessed be his name. Such fatigues and hardships as these serve to wean me more from the earth; and, I trust, will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to cold, rain, &c. I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts; but now these have less place in my heart (thro' the Grace of God) and my eye is more to God for comfort. In this world I expect tribulation; and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to me; I don't in such 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 are yet perhaps reserved for me. Blessed be God, that he makes the thoughts of my journey's end and of my dissolution a great comfort to me, under my sharpest trial; & scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy; but they are attended frequently with great joy.

Another example comes from the pen of Samuel Davies, who ministered in Virginia. His poetic composition (published in 1750) is introduced thus:

The following verses were composed by a pious clergyman in Virginia, who preaches to seven congregations, the nearest of which meets at the distance of five miles from his house, as he was returning home in a very gloomy and rainy night.

The untitled poem follows:

Some, heavenly pensive contemplation, come,
Possess my soul, and solemn thoughts inspire.
The sacred hours, that with too swift a wing
Incessant hurry by, nor quite elapsed,
Demand a serious close. Then be my soul
Sedate and solemn, as this gloom of night,
That thickens round me. Free from care, composed
Be all my soul, as this dread solitude,
Through which with gloomy joy I make my way.
Above these clouds, above the spacious sky,
In whose vast arch these cloudy oceans roll,
Dispensing fatness to the world below;
There dwells THE MAJESTY whose single hand
Props universal nature, and who deals
His liberal blessings to this little globe,
The residence of worms; where Adam’s sons,
Thoughtless of him, who taught their souls to think,
Ramble in vain pursuits. The hosts of heaven,
Cherubs and Seraphs, potentates and thrones,
Arrayed in glorious light, hover on wing
Before his throne, and wait his sovereign nod:
With active zeal, with sacred rapture fired,
To his extensive empire’s utmost bound
They bear his orders, and his charge perform.
Yet He, even He, (ye ministers of flame,
Admire the condescension and the grace!)
Employs a mortal formed of meanest clay,
Debased by sin, whose best desert is hell;
Employs him to proclaim a SAVIOUR’S name,
And offer pardon to a rebel world.
Enjoyed the honour of his advocate:
Immortal souls, of more transcendent worth
Than ophir, or Peru’s exhaustless mines,
Are trusted to my care. Important trust!
What if some wretched soul, (tremendous thought!)
Once favoured with the gospel’s joyful sound,
Now lost, forever lost through my neglect,
In dire infernal glooms, with flaming tongue,
Be heaping execrations on my head,
Whilst here secure I dream my life away!
What if some ghost, cut off from life and hope,
With fierce despairing eyes up-turned to heaven,
That wildly stare, and witness horrors huge,
Be roaring horrid, “Lord, avenge my blood
On that unpitying wretch, who saw me run
With full career the dire enchanting road
To these devouring flames, yet warned me not,
Or faintly warned me; and with languid tone,
And cool harangue, denounced eternal fire,
And wrath divine?” At the dread shocking thought
My spirit shudders, all my inmost soul
Trembles and shrinks. Sure, if the plaintive cries
Of spirits reprobate can reach the ear
Of their great judge, they must be cries like these.
But if the meanest of the happy choir,
That with eternal symphonies surround
The heavenly throne, can stand, and thus declare,
”I owe it to his care that I am here,
Next to Almighty Grace: His faithful hand,
Regardless of the frowns he might incur,
Snatched me, reluctant, from approaching flames,
Ready to catch, and burn unquenchable:
May richest grace reward his pious zeal
With some bright mansion in this world of bliss.”
Transporting thought! Then blessed be the hand
That formed my elemental clay to man,
And still supports me. ‘Tis worthwhile to live,
If I may live to purposes so great.
Awake my dormant zeal! Forever flame
With generous ardors for immortal souls;
And may my head, and tongue, and heart and all,
Spend and be spent in service so divine.

Each made it home safely. And they re-learned reliance upon the God who cares for servants who are seeking to stay upon the right path. A lesson for us today - to be lost in the woods is not necessarily to stray from His path for us - we may still be guided to our blessed journey’s end (Ps. 48:14). As has been said beautifully before, not all who wander are lost.

Sabbath Poems by David Brainerd

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April 25, 1742 - It was the Lord’s Day. David Brainerd wrote in his diary that he spent two hours early in the morning engaged in private worship. The spiritual blessings he experienced on that special Sabbath day he described in prose and in verse, and his words in turn have inspired many.

Lord’s-Day, April 25. This morning spent about two hours Hours in secret duties, and was enabled more than ordinarily to agonize for immortal souls; though it was early in the morning, and the sun scarcely shined at all, yet my body was quite wet with sweat. Felt much pressed now, as frequently of late, to plead for the meekness and calmness of the Lamb of God in my soul: through divine goodness felt much of it this morning. O ‘tis a sweet disposition, heartily to forgive all injuries done us; to wish our greatest enemies as well as we do our own souls! Blessed Jesus, may I daily be more and more conformed to Thee. At night was exceedingly melted with divine love, and had some feeling sense of the blessedness of the upper world. Those words hung upon me, with much divine sweetness, Ps. lxxxiv.7. They go from strength to strength, every one of them in Zion appeareth before God. O the near access, that God sometimes gives us in our addresses to him! This may well be termed appearing before God: ‘Tis so indeed, in the true spiritual sense, and in the sweetest sense. — I think I have not had such power of intercession, these many months, as I have had this evening. I wished and longed for the coming of my dear Lord: I longed to join the angelic hoses in praises, wholly free from imperfection. O the blessed moment hastens! All I want is to be more holy, more like my dear Lord. O for sanctification! My very soul pants for the complete restoration of the blessed image of my sweet Saviour; that I may be fit for the blessed enjoyments and employments of the heavenly world.

Brainerd then found his muse.

Farewell, vain World; my Soul can bid Adieu:
My Saviour’s taught me to abandon you.
Your Charms may gratify a sensual Mind;
Not please a Soul wholly for God design’d.
Forbear t’entice, cease then my Soul to call:
’Tis fix’d, through Grace; my God shall be my All.
While he thus lets me heavenly Glories view,
Your Beauties fade, my Heart’s no Room for you.

Returning to prose, Brainerd goes on:

The Lord refreshed my soul with many sweet passages of his Word. O the New Jerusalem! My soul longed for it. O the Song of Moses and the Lamb! And that blessed song, that no man can learn, but they that are redeemed from the earth! And the glorious white robes, that were given to the souls under the altar!

And then in one final poetic effusion, Brainerd expresses his burning desire for sweet communion with his Lord.

Lord, I’m a Stranger here alone;
Earth no true Comforts can afford:
Yet, absent from my dearest One,
My Soul delights to cry, My Lord!
Jesus, my Lord, my only Love,
Possess my Soul, nor thence depart:
Grant me kind Visits, heavenly Dove;
My God shall then have all my Heart.

May these Sabbath meditations from almost 300 years ago by a Presbyterian missionary richly bless your Sabbath day today.

HT: Tom Sullivan

Thaddeus Dod: A heart humbled before God

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Speaking of pioneer Presbyterian minister and one of the co-founders of Washington & Jefferson College Thaddeus Dod (1740-1793), Helen Turnbull Waite Coleman writes:

In his brief diary, now in the collection at Washington and Jefferson, we read throughout the thin, tenuous pages, in his fine, silvery script such words as these: “July 25, 1775, Help me to take up my cross and follow Thee…I would desire nothing but to be Thine, — and that forever…Let no corrupt design lead me astray from the paths of simplicity and truth.” His “Covenant with God” he wrote at twenty-four, and this he renewed, again and again (Banners in the Wilderness: Early Years of Washington and Jefferson College, p. 8)

Many years after Thaddeus’ death, his son Cephas Dod transcribed portions of his journal and published his father’s “Autobiography and Memoir” in The Presbyterian Magazine (August 1854). The extracts given below are centered on Thaddeus’ covenant with God, which he swore on July 25, 1764.

Although Thaddeus had, as a boy of eleven years old, purposed to dedicate himself to the Lord, but had gradually instead become “most secure in sin.” Yet, in the summer of 1764, as a revival of religion was underway, and as his father passed away, the Lord began a work of grace in his heart that is manifest in his journal entries, and which culminated in a changed and covenanted life as a believer. But there were anxious moments as that work of grace progressed.

July 9th, 1764. — In the morning, rose early. Taking the Bible, I cast my eyes on these words, Ezek. 13:12: “Lo, when the wall is fallen, shall it not be said unto you, Where is the daubing wherewith ye daubed it?” This spoke to my very case. My wall is fallen, and I might justly be upbraided for my folly in trusting thus to it. Before any of the family were up, I went out, and my sorrows gave full vent, which much eased my mind. I retired into a wood near to Mr. T.’s, as I imagined, very humble, where I behaved myself very proudly before that God who sees in secret, which I shall not soon forget.

In the forenoon went to meeting. Some business was to have been transacted, but nothing could be done. The whole assembly was in confusion, as to any business. All that could be done or heard was the need of a Saviour. Undoneness without Christ. This was a day of divine power. Mr. B. told Mr. T. and me, he had had us much on his mind since parted with us last night. I hope to celebrate an endless eternity with him, and that he will be amply rewarded by bounteous Heaven, though I am unable to reward his faithfulness

This afternoon, the whole house seemed to be a “Bochim” — mourning for sin, it seemed to me, was universal through the whole congregation.

I went home again with Mr. T. This was a night of the utmost consequence to me — never to be forgotten; for, if I am not deceived, it will be matter of everlasting rejoicing. If I am deceived, it is of the same everlasting concern; for if I never discover the fatal delusion, I shall have reason to bemoan the time when I was deceived in a matter of such importance. If I should be brought to see the fallacy of my hope, and to close savingly with Christ, then I shall for ever blessed the Lord, who saved me from the delusion; so that it is of the greatest importance to me and to Mr. T. And I bless God I have (though not as I ought, and then thought that I should) been in earnest for my soul’s salvation. I this time received great light. I lay no stress upon any joys, or confidence of my interest in Christ. If what I had then, and from time to time since, hath not a transforming influence upon my soul, making me more and more like the blessed God, and bringing me to a conformity to His holy, just, and good law, I pray God I may discover it, and may be saved from the fatal, delusive, and treacherous heart I have in me.

July 10th, 1764. — Went with Mr. T. to D.C.’s, where we were received with much pleasure, and had some pleasant discourse upon the things of God. Went to other places, and had some pleasant discourse upon the things of God. Went to other places, and everywhere had discourse upon the great Gospel mysteries. I would have disdained as much to have entered into discourse about the things of the world as to wallow in the dirt with the swine. The Scripture seemed new to me. Those things which seemed written for the Jews were brought home to me, and Christ was become (as I thought) my whole dependence for wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.

July 16th. — I feel so prodigiously hardened and confused in my mind, that I know not what answer to give any one. Am so amazed and confused, that I cannot examine my own state — cannot tell what has been and what has not with me.

This afternoon, began to write an instrument of self-dedication to God, according to the advice of several divines, particularly Dr. Doddridge.

July 17th. — Very much distressed in mind. Much in doubt as to the state of my soul. Satan still follows me with most horrid thoughts — blasphemous, unbelieving. I am afraid to speak or write anything, lest it be wrong.

July 18th. — This morning my soul had such a visit from heaven that I felt myself quite turned about, and could scarcely believe that it had been with me as it had. I cannot describe it.

July 24th. — In a sweet frame. Had some freedom with God in prayer. O my God, give me preparedness to go through with the solemn business of to-morrow!

July 25th, 1764. — This being the day set apart to seek the eternal welfare of my soul, and for imploring divine assistance, retired into a solitary place on the mountain. Here I made my solemn engagements in writing, and in that solemn manner entered into covenant obligations to be the Lord’s. O! may divine grace be ever near for my support, without which I shall never perform one article. O my God! leave me not to a cold, dead, careless performance of duty, but help me daily to take up my cross and follow thee. Now that I am enlisted into thy service, help me to approve myself a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

As he began his soldier service for the King, he immediately again felt the spiritual struggle and warfare that all Christians know well. But having covenanted to belong to Christ, the work of grace by God in him continued. He labored for the cause of Christ as a minister of the gospel and as a teacher in a log cabin school, paving the way — with his co-laborers in the Lord — to bring the Gospel to people west of the Allegheny Mountains. When he entered into glory on May 20, 1793, his funeral sermon was preached by John McMillan, the text being “And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them” (Rev. 14:13). He found his soul’s rest, and his legacy for the cause of Christ is not to be forgotten. Read more from diary and his son’s memoir here.

J.W. Alexander on the blessings of trial

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At the end of James Waddel Alexander’s Thoughts on Preaching, edited by Samuel Davies Alexander, one will find many gems extracted from J.W.’s private journal. This is one such meditation on the “Blessings of Trial.”

§ 15. Blessings of Trial. — The trials which befall us, are the very trials which we need. The little daily excoriations of temper speedily heal themselves, but when the pain lasts, they have an errand to accomplish, and they accomplish it. These, as well as greater sufferings are ordered. They must be submit ted to with patience, resignation, and meekness, and if they enable us to see ourselves, and gain a victory over our pride, they are of great value. Instead of vain and impotent wishes to fly from them, or the circumstances which occasion them, it is the part of manly virtue to fear and forbear, and by grace to wax stronger and stronger.

It is not easy to hear that the trials which befall us are the very trials which God, in His wisdom, has determined that we need, but may such considerations lead us to learn to, in the words of Charles H. Spurgeon, “kiss the waves that throw me up against the Rock of Ages.”

"To learn something from everybody I speak to" - Rules of conduct by Ashbel Green

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In 1791, Ashbel Green went on a journey from Philadelphia to New England. The theological climate of New England at that time was such that he would be challenged by interactions from very different viewpoints than his own. His diary records that before embarking on this trip, he made a concerted effort to regulate his conduct to the glory of God.

“June 6, 1791. — To-morrow, God willing, I expect to set out on a journey into New England. I think it will be useful for me to lay down some rules for the government of my own conduct, and to read them over every morning and evening.

Rule 1. To endeavour to promote, by every means in my power, the glory of God. Hence I must preach as much and as often as I can; and endeavour to recommend religion to all whom I may have intercourse with, by my whole conversation and deportment, and I must endeavour constantly to have this rule in my memory and recollection.

2. Let me avoid talkativeness; and be as modest and unassuming as possible. Let no controversy on religious subjects make me lose my temper, or say any thing hastily, harshly, or severely.

3. Let me not deny any sentiments that I really hold, be the consequences what they may.

4. Let me, in answering questions or in giving relations, and in every thing else, keep vigorously and entirely to the simple truth; neither adding nor admitting any circumstance, so as to convey an idea of things in any degree different from what they really are.

5. Let me endeavour to suppress pride and vanity; and not endeavour to shine by an affectation of knowledge, or qualities which I do not possess. It is dangerous; it may bring me into absolute disgrace; it is very wicked.

6. Let me observe characters with all attention. This is a principal object of my journey. Let me try to learn something from every body I speak to.

7. Especially let me observe the state of society, and the peculiarities of manners in the places where I go.

8. Let me recollect in remarkable places the distinguished events that have taken place in them, and see all the vestiges and remains of them. Let me inquire the state and history of colleges; and endeavour to see their professors, masters, libraries and philosophical apparatus. Let me, where I can, ask who are the leading men and principal characters in any town. Let me observe the general face of the country — its soil, productions, &c., &c.

9. Let me pay a particular attention to the state of religious opinions, and see if I can trace the cause of them.

10. Let me not be disconcerted with difficulties in my journey. Let me endeavour to keep up my spirits, and resolutely set about my business, in each particular place.

11. Let me not suffer the importunities of friends, or others, to break in on my own plans of travelling; but vigorously and constantly pursue them; denying with modesty, but at the same time with firmness.

12. Let me pay a personal and particular attention to my horse. It seems proper that I should mention that I travelled in a sulkey, without a servant or a companion.

13. Let me endeavour to travel in the morning, and lie by in the heat of the day.

14. I am at a loss, whether to rebuke profaneness in watermen, servants, &c.; in general it is, I believe, best to give them some check.

15. Let me not neglect secret prayer; and always remember my family and congregation in it.

16. Let me try in every way to get improvement; by getting men to talk on their favourite topics; by making deductions from their opinions; by comparing them together; by pursuing hints which I may take from what they say; by retaining and remembering all the information they convey.

17. Let me not neglect to write to my wife as often as possible.

18. Let me not find fault with the peculiarities of places to their inhabitants. Let me not make comparisons to their disadvantage, and tell them things are much better in the place I came from. People will not bear this.

A number of these rules contain things which I ought to be incapable of forgetting or neglecting; but I know for myself that the most obvious duties sometimes escape my attention. By examining myself on these rules, I shall be likely to remember, discover, correct, and avoid any errors and omissions; and I shall have my memory refreshed with a view of my business and duty."

The above rules, and the remark with which they are concluded, appear to have been very hastily written; and some of them are very incorrect in expression; but the intention of each of them is, I think, palpable; and I thought it would be best to give them verbatim as they were originally penned.

Allan Stanton wrote this brief summary of that trip:

During his journey, Green kept a brief journal with reflection upon every person that he met with especial consideration upon the piety and theological persuasions of pastors. The two most common observations of his journal are in reference to Anti-Trinitarian and Hopkinsian persuasions of these pastors. Green consistently concluded that the men he met were pious and that he avoided controversy with them while gaining invaluable insight into the ecclesiastical circumstances in which he found himself.

Stanton goes on to say that the religious pluralism which Green encountered in New England was a factor in his later push to establish what became Princeton Theological Seminary in New Jersey (Allan Stanton, “The Theological Climate of the Early Nineteenth Century and the Founding of a Polemical Seminary at Princeton,” in The Confessional Presbyterian (2010) 6:24).

Times have changed in some respects, but in other respects we can learn from Green’s rules of conduct and make useful application in the even more religiously pluralistic 21st century. There is great value in healthy and wholesome conversation, in striving to listen and learn from those with whom we engage, and doing what we can to avoid unnecessary controversy and rather build bridges that can be employed for the glory of God. Do you aim to learn something from everyone that you speak to? Green found this to be good advice to himself, and there is much to commend this advice in our present-day interactions, whether they be in our neighborhood, on public transit or online. Green’s rules (which can be read in The Life of Ashbel Green, pp. 204-207) helped him to redeem the time and to have a profitable trip, and there is profit in these rules for us today.

The Most Important Day in the Life of Philip Vickers Fithian

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March 31, 1766, was the most important day in Philip Vickers Fithian’s life. It was a Monday, and Philip was still reflecting on the sermons that Rev. Simon Williams had preached the day before.

Thus John Fea begins chapter 2 (“A Presbyterian Conversion”) of The Way of Improvement Leads Home: Philip Vickers Fithian and the Rural Enlightenment in Early America (2008). Rev. Williams had preached the day before on Psalm 24 and John 17, and these sermons made a deep impression upon the young man whose journal is noted by historians today for its valuable insights into the culture and religious practices of colonial New Jersey and Virginia.

Since that January, Fithian had come under increasing conviction of sin and his need of a Savior. The last day of March proved for him to be a “spiritual breakthrough” (Fea, p. 55).

His journal entry for the day begins with a customary report on the weather:

This morning is calm pleasant and clear, before noon the Wind rose at north-north-east and is very pleasant; in the after-noon the Wind came West moderately.

Then we note the following poetic lines:

Degenerate minds, in many error lost; 
May combat heaven & impious triumphs boast, 
But while my veins feel annimating fires, 
And vital air, this breathing breast inspires; 
Grateful to Heaven, I'll stretch a pious wing; 
And sing his praise, who gives one power to sing.

Although we know that Fithian tried his hand at poetry (his “Valentine” poem, written for Miss Priscilla Carter, for example, is well-known), these particular lines are in fact taken from the ending of a 1712 epic poem titled “Creation” by Sir Richard Blackmore. Fea tells us that at the time Fithian “was dwelling in Greenwich [New Jersey], but he inhabited two distinctly cultural worlds. He cut ‘hoop-poles’ in the morning and returned to his room in the evening to read Sir Richard Blackmore’s poetry” (p. 59). These verses clearly stood out to Fithian at a very crucial moment in his life.

Finally, we take note of Fithian’s acceptance of Christ as his Savior.

He that upon the loving request of 
God and Christ, made to them by the 
mouth of Ministers, having commission 
to that effect, hath embraced the offers 
of perpetual reconciliation through 
Christ, and doth purpose by Gods grace,
as a reconciled person, to strive against 
sin, and to serve God, to the uttermost of 
his power; constantly; may be assumd'
to have righteousness, and eternal life 
given to him for the obedience of Christ 
imputed to him; as it is sure that Christ 
was condemned, and put to death for 
the sins of the redeemed, imputed to him.

But I, upon the loving request of God, 
and Christ, made to me, by the mouth of 
his ministers, have embraced the offers 
of perpetual reconciliation through 
Christ; and do purpose by Gods grace, 
a reconciled person, to strive against 
sin, and to serve God with all my power 
constantly, therefore I may be assure 
to have righteousness, and eternal life 

Although these words are quoted by Fea, what is not discussed in the book is the fact that they are also an almost verbatim quote - this time from The Sum of Saving Knowledge (1652), a succinct presentation of the gospel jointly authored by Scottish Covenanters James Durham and David Dickson, and often printed along with the official and unofficial Westminster Standards. The significance of this quote is that Fithian took note of the prescribed manner in the Presbyterian tradition of a sinner embracing the promises of the gospel. In the words of Durham and Dickson:

Hence may a weak believer strengthen his faith, by reasoning from this ground after this manner:

He that, upon the loving request of God and Christ, made to him by the mouth of his Ministers, (having commission to that effect,) hath embraced the offer of perpetual reconciliation through Christ, and doth purpose, by God's grace, as a reconciled person, to strive against sin, and to serve God to his power constantly, may be as sure to have righteousness and eternal life given to him, for the obedience of Christ imputed to him, as it is sure that Christ was condemned and put to death for the sins of the redeemed imputed to him.

But I (may the weak believer say) upon the loving request of God and Christ, made to me by the mouth of his Ministers, have embraced the offer of perpetual reconciliation through Christ, and do purpose by God's grace, as a reconciled person to strive against sin, and to serve God to my power constantly.

Therefore I may be as sure to have righteousness and eternal life given to me, for the obedience of Christ imputed to me, as it is sure that Christ was condemned and put to death for the sins of the redeemed imputed to him.

In this manner, Fithian expressed privately in his journal how his soul closed with Christ. “Shortly after he ‘embraced the offers of perpetual reconciliation with Christ,’ Philip started to write less about God’s plan of redemption and more about the necessary disciplines that were essential to living a Christian life” (Fea, p. 55). Fithian would go on to graduate from the College of New Jersey (Princeton), and serve as an ordained Presbyterian minister, missionary, chaplain and tutor before illness took his life at the age of 28.

It is always fascinating to read a journal, especially the diaries of saints who have gone before. In this case, taking a close look at such a pivotal moment in the short life of this colonial Presbyterian minister reveals important influences on his life and the direction that it would soon take. It was indeed “the most important day” of his brief life on this earth.