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Sunday, March 7.--I entered upon my ministry at Savannah, by preaching on the epistle for the day, being the thirteenth of First Corinthians.  In the second lesson (Luke 18) was our Lord's prediction of the treatment which He Himself (and, consequently, His followers) was to meet with from the world.  "Verily I say unto you, There is no man that hath left house, or friends, or brethren, or wife, or children, for the kingdom of God's sake, who shall not receive manifold more in this present time, and in the world to come life everlasting."

Yet, notwithstanding these declarations of our Lord--notwithstanding my own repeated experience--notwithstanding the experience of all the sincere followers of Christ whom I have ever talked with, read or heard of; nay, and the reason of the thing evincing to a demonstration that all who love not the light must hate Him who is continually laboring to pour it in upon them; I do here bear witness against myself that when I saw the number of people crowding into the church, the deep attention with which they received the Word, and the seriousness that afterward sat on all their faces; I could scarcely refrain from giving the lie to experience and reason and Scripture all together.

I could hardly believe that the greater, the far greater part of this attentive, serious people would hereafter trample under foot that Word and say all manner of evil falsely of him that spake it.

Monday, 15.--Mr. Quincy going for Carolina, I removed into the minister's house.  It is large enough for a larger family than ours and has many conveniences, besides a good garden.

Tuesday, 30.--Mr. Ingham, coming from Frederica, brought me letters, pressing me to go thither.  The next day Mr. Delamotte and I began to try whether life might not as well be sustained by one sort as by variety of food.  We chose to make the experiment with bread; and were never more vigorous and healthy than while we tasted nothing else.

 

Sunday, April 4.--About four in the afternoon I set out for Frederica in a pettiawga--a sort of flat-bottomed barge.  The next evening we anchored near Skidoway Island, where the water, at flood, was twelve or fourteen feet deep.  I wrapped myself up from head to foot in a large cloak, to keep off the sandflies, and lay down on the quarterdeck.  Between one and two I waked under water, being so fast asleep that I did not find where I was till my mouth was full of it.  Having left my cloak, I know not how, upon deck, I swam around to the other side of the pettiawga, where a boat was tied, and climbed up by the rope without any hurt, more than wetting my clothes.

Saturday, 17.--Not finding as yet any door open for the pursuing our main design, we considered in what manner we might be most useful to the little flock at Savannah.  And we agreed 1) to advise the more serious among them to form themselves into a sort of little society, and to meet once or twice a week, in order to reprove, instruct and exhort one another; 2) to select out of these a smaller number for a more intimate union with each other, which might be forwarded, partly by our conversing singly with each and partly by inviting them all together to our house; and this, accordingly, we determined to do every Sunday in the afternoon.

Monday, May 10.--I began visiting my parishioners in order, from house to house; for which I set apart the time when they cannot work because of the heat, namely, from twelve till three in the afternoon.

Thursday, June 17.--An officer of a man-of-war, walking just behind us with two or three of his acquaintance, cursed and swore exceedingly; but upon my reproving him, seemed much moved and gave me many thanks.

Tuesday, 22.--Observing much coldness in M ----'s behaviour, I asked him the reason of it.  He answered, "I like nothing you do.  All your sermons are satires upon particular persons, therefore I will never hear you more; and all the people are of my mind; for we won't hear ourselves abused.

"Besides, they say, they are Protestants.  But as for you, they cannot tell what religion you are of.  They never heard of such a religion before.  They do not know what to make of it.  And then your private behaviour:  all the quarrels that have been here since you came, have been 'long of you.  Indeed there is neither man nor woman in the town who minds a word you say.  And so you may preach long enough; but nobody will come to hear you."

He was too warm for hearing an answer.  So I had nothing to do but to thank him for his openness and walk away.

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CCEL
This document is from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library
at Calvin College. Last updated on March 22, 2000.
Contacting the CCEL.
Calvin College