Muscles, with their tendons, are the infrtuments by which animal motion is performed. It will be our bufinefs to point out inftances in which, and properties with refpect to which, the difpofition of thefe mufcles is as ftrictly mechanical, as that of the wires and ftrings of a puppet.

I. We may obferve, what I believe is univerfal, an exact relation between the joint and the mufcles which move it. Whatever motion, the joint, by its mechanical conftruction, is capable of performing, that motion, the annexed mufcles, by their pofition, are capable of producing. For example; if there be, as at the knee and elbow, a hinge joint, capable of motion only in the fame plane, the leaders, as they are called, i. e. the mufcular tendons, are placed in directions parallel to the bone, fo as, by the contraction or relaxation of the mufcles to which they belong, to produce that motion and no other. If thefe joints were capable of a freer motion, there are no mufcles to produce it. Whereas at the fhoulder and the hip, where the ball and focket joint allows by its conftruction of a rotatory or fweeping motion, tendons are placed in fuch a pofition, and pull in fuch a direction, as to produce the motion of which the joint admits.

When we come to the elements, we take leave of our mechanics; becaufe we come to thofe things, of the organization of which, if they be organized, we are confeffedly ignorant. This ignorance is implied by their name. To fay the truth, our inveftigations are ftopped long before we arrive at this point. But then it is for our comfort to find, that a knowledge of the conftitution of the elements is not neceffary for us. For inftance, as Addifon has well obferved, “we know water fufficiently, when we know how to boil, how to freeze, how to evaporate, how to make it frefh, how to make it run or fpout out, in what quantity and direction we pleafe, without knowing what water is.” The obfervation of this excellent writer has more propriety in it now, than it had at the time it was made: for the conftitution, and the conftituent parts, of water, appear in fome meafure to have been lately difcovered; yet it does not, I think, appear, that we can make any better or greater ufe of water fince the difcovery, than we did before it.

We can never think of the elements without reflecting upon the number of diftinct ufes which are confolidated in the fame fubftance. The air fupplies the lungs, fupports fire, conveys found, reflects light, diffufes fmells, gives rain, wafts fhips, bears up birds.

It is not that every part of an animal or vegetable has not proceeded from a contriving mind; or that every part is not conftructed with a view to its proper end and purpofe, according to the laws belonging to, and governing, the fubftance or the action made ufe of in that part; or that each part is not fo conftructed, as to effectuate its purpofe whilft it operates according to thefe laws: but it is becaufe thefe laws themfelves are not in all cafes equally underftood; or, what amounts to nearly the fame thing, are not equally exemplified in more fimple proceffes, and more fimple machines; that we lay down the diftinction, here propofed, between the mechanical parts, and other parts of animals and vegetables.

For inftance; the principle of mufcular motion, viz. upon what caufe the fwelling of the belly of the mufcle, and confequent contraction of its tendons, either by an act of the will or by involuntary irritation, depends, is wholly unknown to us. The fubftance employed, whether it be fluid, gafeous, elaftic, electrical, or none of thefe, or nothing refembling thefe, is alfo unknown to us: of courfe the laws belonging to that fubftance, and which regulate its action, are unknown to us. We fee nothing fimilar to this contraction in any machine which we can make, or any procefs which we can execute.

This is atheifm: for every indication of contrivance, every manifeftation of defign, which exifted in the watch, exifts in the works of nature; with the difference, on the fide of nature, of being greater and more, and that in a degree which exceeds all computation. I mean that the contrivances of nature furpafs the contrivances of art, in the complexity, fubtlety, and curiofity of the mechanifm; and ftill more, if poffible, do they go beyond them in number and variety: yet, in a multitude of cafes, are not lefs evidently mechanical, not lefs evidently contrivances, not lefs evidently accommodated to their end, or fuited to their office, than are the moft perfect productions of human ingenuity.

I know no better method of introducing fo large a fubject, than that of comparing a fingle thing with a fingle thing; an eye, for example, with a telefcope. As far as the examination of the inftrument goes, there is precifely the fame proof that the eye was made for vifion, as there is that the telefcope was made for affifting it. They are made upon the fame principles; both being adjufted to the laws by which the tranfmiffion and refraction of rays of light are regulated. I fpeak not of the origin of the laws themfelves; but fuch laws being fixed, the conftruction, in both cafes, is adapted to them.

Of the “unity of the Deity” the proof is, the uniformity of plan obfervable in the univerfe. The univerfe itfelf is a fyftem; each part either depending upon other parts, or being connected with other parts by fome common law of motion, or by the prefence of fome common fubftance. One principle of gravitation caufes a ftone to drop towards the earth, and the moon to wheel round it. One law of attraction carries all the different planets about the fun. This philofophers demonftrate. There are alfo other points of agreement amongft them, which may be confidered as marks of the identity of their origin, and of their intelligent author. In all are found the conveniency and ftability derived from gravitation. They all experience viciffitudes of days and nights, and changes of feafon. They all, at leaft Jupiter, Mars, and Venus, have the fame advantages from their atmofpheres as we have. In all the planets the axes of rotation are permanent. Nothing is more probable, than that the fame attracting influence, acting according to the fame rule, reaches to the fixed ftars: but, if this be only probable, another thing is certain, viz. that the fame element of light does. The light from a fixed ftar affects our eyes in the fame manner, is refracted and reflected according to the fame laws, as the light of a candle.

The proof of the divine goodnefs refts upon two proportions, each, as we contend, capable of being made out by obfervations drawn from the appearances of nature.

The firft is, “that, in a vaft plurality of inftances in which contrivance is perceived the defign of the contrivance is beneficial.”

The fecond, “that the Deity has fuperadded pleafure to animal fenfations, beyond what was neceffary for any other purpofe, or when the purpofe, fo far as it was neceffary, might have been effected by the operation of pain.”

Firft, “in a vaft plurality of inftances in which contrivance is perceived, the defign of the contrivance is beneficial.”

No productions of nature difplay contrivance fo manifeftly as the parts of animals; and the parts of animals have all of them, I believe, a real, and, with very few exceptions, all of them a known and intelligible, fubferviency to the ufe of the animal. Now, when the multitude of animals is confidered, the number of parts in each, their figure and fitnefs, the faculties depending upon them, the variety of fpecies, the complexity of ftructure, the fuccefs, in fo many cafes, and felicity of the refult, we can never reflect, without the profoundeft adoration, upon the character of that Being from whom all thefe things have proceeded: we cannot help acknowledging, what an exertion of benevolence creation was; of a benevolence, how minute in its care, how vaft in its comprehenfion.

[We are now come to that part of Mr. Brainerd's life wherein he had the greatest success in his labours for the good of souls, and in his particular business as a missionary to the Indians. After all his agonising in prayer, and all the interchanges of his raised hopes and expectations and then disappointments and discouragements; and after waiting as it were through a long night, at length the day dawns. He went forth weeping, bearing precious seed, and now he comes with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him. The desired event is brought to pass at last; but at a time, in a place, and upon subjects that scarcely ever entered into his heart. An account of this would undoubtedly gratify the Christian reader, and it should have been here inserted as it stands in his Diary, had not a particular account of this glorious and wonderful success been drawn up by Mr. Brainerd himself, pursuant to the order of the Honourable Society in Scotland, and published by him in his lifetime.]

Wednesday, June 19, 1715.—Rode to the Indians at Crossweeksung; found few at home; discoursed to them, however, and observed them very serious and attentive. At night I was extremely worn out, and scarcely able to walk or sit up. O how tiresome is earth! how dull the body!

Thursday, June 20.—Towards night, preached to the Indians again, and had more hearers than before.

1. He has a true knowledge of the glory and excellency of God, that He is most worthy to be loved and praised for His own divine perfections.

2. God is his portion. And God's glory his great concern.

3. Holiness is his delight; nothing he so much longs for as to be holy, as God is holy.

4. Sin is his greatest enemy. This he hates for its own nature, for what it is in itself, being contrary to a holy God. Consequently he hates all sin.

5. The laws of God also are his delight. These he observes, not out of constraint, from a servile fear of hell; but they are his choice. The strict observance of them is not his bondage, but his greatest liberty.

Friday, November 26.—Had still a sense of my great unworthiness, and endeavoured as much as I could to keep alone. O, what a nothing, what dust and ashes am I! Enjoyed some peace and comfort in spreading my complaints before the God of all grace.

Saturday, November 27.—Committed my soul to God with some degree of comfort; left New York about nine in the morning; came away with a distressing sense still of my unspeakable depravity. Surely I may well love all my brethren; for none of them all is so vile as I; whatever they do outwardly, yet it seems to me none is conscious of so much guilt before God. O my leanness, my barrenness, my carnality, and past bitterness, and want of a Gospel-temper! These things oppress my soul. Rode from New York, thirty miles, to White Plains, and most of the way continued lifting up my heart to God for mercy and purifying grace; and spent the evening much dejected in spirit.

Wednesday, December 1.—My soul breathed after God, in spiritual and longing desires of conformity to Him; was brought to rest itself and all on His rich grace, and felt strength and encouragement to do or suffer anything that divine providence should allot me. Rode about twenty miles from Stratfield to Newton.

Lord's day, November 24.—Preached both parts of the day from the story of Zacchæus, Luke xix. 1–9. In the latter exercise, when I opened and insisted upon the salvation that comes to the sinner, upon his becoming a son of Abraham or a true believer, the Word seemed to be attended with divine power to the hearts of the hearers. Numbers were much affected, former convictions were revived, one or two persons newly awakened, and a most affectionate engagement in divine service appeared among them universally.

These impressions appeared to be the genuine effect of God's Word brought home to their hearts, by the power and influence of the divine Spirit.

November 26. — After spending some time in private conferences with my people, I discoursed publicly among them from John v. 1–9. I was favoured with some special freedom and fervency in my discourse, and a powerful energy accompanied the Word. Many wept, and scarcely any appeared unconcerned in the whole assembly. The influence that seized the audience appeared gentle, and yet pungent and efficacious. It produced no boisterous commotion of the passions, but seemed deeply to affect the heart; and excited in the persons under conviction of their lost state heavy groans and tears; and in others who had obtained comfort a sweet and humble melting. It seemed like the gentle but steady showers that effectually water the earth, without violently beating upon the surface.

Having spent most of my time for more than a year past amongst the Indians in the Forks of Delaware in Pennsylvania, and having in that time made two journeys to Susquehanna River, far back in that province, in order to treat with the Indians respecting Christianity; and not having had any considerable appearance of special success in either of those places, which damped my spirits and was not a little discouraging to me; upon hearing that there was a number of Indians in and about a place called by the Indians Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, near fourscore miles south-east from the Forks of Delaware, I determined to make them a visit, and see what might be done towards their conversion. I accordingly arrived among them this day.

Found very few persons in the place I visited, and perceived the Indians in those parts were very much scattered, there being not more than two or three families in a place, from six to thirty miles distant. However, I preached to those few I found, who appeared well-disposed, and not inclined to object and cavil, as the Indians had frequently done elsewhere.

When I had concluded my discourse, I informed them (there being none but a few women and children) that I would willingly visit them again the next day. They accordingly set out and travelled ten or fifteen miles, in order to give notice to some of their friends at that distance.

Dear Brother,—I should tell you, “I long to see you,” but that my own experience has taught me there is no happiness and plenary satisfaction to be enjoyed in earthly friends, though ever so near and dear, or in any other enjoyment that is not God Himself. Therefore if the God of all grace would be pleased to afford us each His presence and grace, that we may perform the work and endure the trials He calls us to, in a most distressing tiresome wilderness, till we arrive at our journey's end; the distance at which we are held from each other at the present is a matter of no great moment or importance to either of us. But alas, the presence of God is what I want.

I live in the most lonely melancholy desert, about eighteen miles from Albany; for it was not thought best that I should go to Delaware River, as I believe I hinted to you in a letter from New York. I board with a poor Scotsman; his wife can talk scarcely any English. My diet consists mostly of hasty-pudding, boiled corn, and bread baked in ashes, and sometimes a little meat and butter. My lodging is a little heap of straw, laid upon some boards, a little way from the ground; for it is a log-room, without any floor, that I lodge in.

[Hitherto Mr. Brainerd had kept a constant Diary, giving an account of what passed from day to day with little interruption; but henceforward his Diary is very much interrupted by his illness. He was often brought so low as either not to be capable of writing, or not well able to bear the burden of a care so constant as was requisite to recollect every evening what had passed in the day, and set down an orderly account of it in writing. However, his Diary was not wholly neglected; but he took care, from time to time, to take some notice of the most material things concerning himself and the state of his mind, even till within a few days of his death, as the reader will see afterwards.]

Lord's day, September 21, 1746.—I was so weak I could not preach, nor pretend to ride over to my people in the forenoon. In the afternoon, rode out; sat in my chair, and discoursed to my people from Romans xiv. 7, 8. I was strengthened and helped in my discourse, and there appeared something agreeable in the assembly. I returned to my lodgings extremely tired, but thankful that I had been enabled to speak a word to my poor people, from whom I had been so long absent.

The deplorable state of the Indians in these parts of America having been represented to the Society in Scotland for Propagating Christian Knowledge, the said Society cheerfully came to the proposal of maintaining two missionaries among these miserable pagans, to endeavour their conversion from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan unto God; and sent their commission to some ministers and other gentlemen here to act as their Correspondents, in providing, directing, and inspecting the mission.

As soon as the Correspondents were thus authorised, they immediately looked out for two candidates of the evangelical ministry, whose zeal for the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom, and whose compassion for poor perishing souls, would prompt them to such an exceeding difficult and selfdenying undertaking. They first prevailed with Mr. Azariah Horton to relinquish a call to an encouraging parish, and to devote himself to the Indian service. He was directed to Long Island, in August 1741, at the east end of which are two small towns of the Indians, and from the east to the west end of the island lesser companies settled at a few miles' distance from one another, for the length of above a hundred miles.

At his first coming among them he was well received by most, and heartily welcomed by some of them. Those at the east end of the island especially gave diligent and serious attention to his instructions, and were many of them put upon solemn enquiries about what they should do to be saved.

The design of this publication is to give God the glory of His distinguishing grace, and gratify the pious curiosity of those who are waiting and praying for that blessed time, when the Son of God, in a more extensive sense than has yet been accomplished, shall receive the heathen for His inheritance and the uttermost parts of the earth for His possession.

Whenever any of the guilty race of mankind are awakened to a just concern for their eternal interest, are humbled at the footstool of a sovereign God, and are persuaded and enabled to accept the offers of redeeming love, it must always be acknowledged a wonderful work of divine grace, which demands our thankful praises. But doubtless it is a more affecting evidence of Almighty power, a more illustrious display of sovereign mercy, when those are enlightened with the knowledge of salvation, who have for many ages dwelt in the grossest darkness and heathenism, and are brought to a cheerful subjection to the government of our divine Redeemer, who from generation to generation had remained the voluntary slaves of the prince of darkness.

This is that delightful scene which will present itself to the reader's view, while he attentively peruses the following pages. Nothing certainly can be more agreeable to a benevolent and religious mind, than to see those who were sunk in the most degenerate state of human nature, not only at once renounce those barbarous customs they had been inured to from their infancy, but surprisingly transformed into the character of real and devout Christians.

Friday, July 30, 1742.—Rode from Danbury to Southbury; preached there from 1 Peter iv. 8. Had much of the comfortable presence of God in the exercise. I seemed to have power with God in prayer, and power to get hold of the hearts of the people in preaching.

Saturday, July 31.—Exceeding calm and composed, and was greatly refreshed and encouraged.

Lord's day, August 8.—In the morning felt comfortably in secret prayer; my soul was refreshed with the hopes of the heathen coming home to Christ; was much resigned to God, and thought it was no matter what became of me. Preached both parts of the day at Bethlehem, from Job xiv. 14. It was pleasant to me to meditate on death. In the evening, felt very comfortably, and cried to God fervently in secret prayer.

[It appears by his diary that he continued, through the three next days, engaged with all his might in the business of religion, and in almost a constant enjoyment of the comforts of it.]

Thursday, August 12.—This morning and last night was exercised with sore inward trials; I had no power to pray, but seemed shut out from God. I had in a great measure lost my hopes of God's sending me among the heathen afar off, and of seeing them flock home to Christ.

Wednesday, June 13.—Spent some considerable time in writing an account of the Indian affairs, to go to Scotland. Conversed much with friends; but enjoyed little satisfaction.

Thursday, June 14.—Received some particular kindness from friends, and wondered that God should open the hearts of any towards me; saw myself unworthy of any favour, either from God or man. Was much exercised with pain in my head; yet determined to set out on my journey towards Delaware in the afternoon; but the pain increased so much, that I was obliged to betake myself to bed. The night following, I was greatly distressed with pain and sickness; was sometimes almost bereaved of the exercise of reason by the extremity of pain. Continued much distressed till Saturday, when I was something relieved by an emetic; but was unable to walk abroad till the Monday following, and still remained very feeble. I often admired the goodness of God, that He did not suffer me to proceed on my journey from this place where I was so tenderly used, and to be sick by the way among strangers. God is very gracious to me both in health and sickness, and intermingles much mercy with all my afflictions and toils. Enjoyed some sweetness in things divine, in the midst of my pain and weakness. O that I could praise the Lord!