_From the close of his Public Journal, June 19, 1746, to his
death—continuance of labor at Crossweeksung and Cranberry—journey
with six Christian Indians to the Susquehanna, and labors
there—return to Crossweeksung—compelled by prostration of health to
have the Indians—confinement by sickness at Elizabethtown—farewell
visit to the Indians—his brother John succeeds him as a
Missionary—arrival among his friends in Connecticut—visit to
President Edwards in Northampton—journey to Boston, where he is
brought near to death—usefulness in Boston—returns to
Northampton—triumphs of grace in his last sickness—death._
[June 19, 1746—October 9, 1747.]
_Lord’s day, June 29, 1746._—“Preached both parts of the day, from John,
14:19. God was pleased to assist me, to afford me both freedom and
power, especially toward the close of my discourses forenoon and
afternoon. God’s power appeared in the assembly, in both exercises.
Numbers of God’s people were refreshed and melted with divine things;
one or two comforted, who had been long under distress; convictions, in
divers instances, were powerfully revived; and one man in years was much
awakened, who had not long frequented our meeting, and appeared before
as stupid as a stock. God amazingly renewed and lengthened out my
strength. I was so spent at noon that I could scarcely walk, and all my
joints trembled so that I could not sit, nor so much as hold my hand
still; and yet God strengthened me to preach with power in the
afternoon, although I had given out word to my people, that I did not
expect to be able to do it. Spent some time afterward in conversing,
particularly, with several persons, about their spiritual state; and had
some satisfaction concerning one or two. Prayed afterward with a sick
child, and gave a word of exhortation. Was assisted in all my work.
Blessed be God! Returned home with more health than I had in the
morning, although my linen was wringing wet upon me, from a little after
ten, till past five in the afternoon. My spirits also were considerably
refreshed; and my soul rejoiced in hope, that I had through grace done
something for God. In the evening walked out, and enjoyed a sweet season
in secret prayer and praise. But O I found the truth of the Psalmist’s
words, ‘My goodness extendeth not to thee!’ I could not make any returns
to God; I longed to live only to him, and to be in tune for his praise
and service for ever. Oh for spirituality and holy fervency, that I
might spend and be spent for God to my latest moment.
_July 10._—“Spent most of the day in writing. Toward night rode to Mr.
Tennent’s; enjoyed some agreeable conversation; went home in the
evening, in a solemn, sweet frame of mind; was refreshed in secret
duties, longed to live wholly and only for God, and saw plainly there
was nothing in the world worthy of my affection—my heart was dead to all
below; yet not through dejection, as at some times, but from views of a
better inheritance.
_July 12._—“This day was spent in fasting and prayer by my congregation,
as preparatory to the Lord’s supper. I discoursed, both parts of the
day, from Rom. 4:25, ‘Who was delivered for our offences,’ &c. God gave
me some assistance, and something of divine power attended the word; so
that this was an agreeable season. Afterward led them to a solemn
renewal of their covenant, and fresh dedication of themselves to God.
This was a season both of solemnity and sweetness, and God seemed to be
‘in the midst of us.’ Returned to my lodgings in the evening, in a
comfortable frame of mind.
_Lord’s day, July 13._—“In the forenoon, discoursed on the ‘bread of
life,’ from John, 6:35. God gave me some assistance, in a part of my
discourse especially; and there appeared some tender affection in the
assembly under divine truth; my soul also was somewhat refreshed.
Administered the Lord’s supper to thirty-one of the Indians. God seemed
to be present in this ordinance; the communicants were sweetly melted
and refreshed. O how they melted, even when the elements were first
uncovered! There was scarcely a dry eye among them, when I took off the
linen, and showed them the symbols of Christ’s _broken body_. Having
rested a little, after the administration of the ordinance, I visited
the communicants, and found them generally in a sweet loving frame; not
unlike what appeared among them on the former sacramental occasion,
April 27. In the afternoon, discoursed upon _coming to Christ_, and the
_satisfaction_ of those who do so, from the same verse I insisted on in
the forenoon. This was likewise an agreeable season, one of much
tenderness, affection, and enlargement in divine service; and God, I am
persuaded, crowned our assembly with his presence. I returned home much
spent, yet rejoicing in the goodness of God.
_July 14._—“Went to my people, and discoursed to them from Psalm
119:106, ‘I have sworn, and I will perform it,’ &c. Observed, (1.) that
all God’s judgments or commandments are righteous. (2.) That God’s
people have sworn to keep them; and this they do especially at the
Lord’s table. There appeared to be a powerful divine influence on the
assembly, and considerable melting under the word. Afterward I led them
to a renewal of their covenant before God, that they would watch over
themselves and one another, lest they should fall into sin, and dishonor
the name of Christ. This transaction was attended with great solemnity;
and God seemed to own it by exciting in them a fear and jealousy of
themselves, lest they should sin against God; so that the presence of
God seemed to be among us in this conclusion of the sacramental
solemnity.
_July 21._—“Preached to the Indians, chiefly for the sake of some
_strangers_; proposed my design of taking a journey speedily to the
Susquehanna; exhorted my people to pray for me, that God would be with
me in that journey; and then chose divers persons of the congregation to
travel with me. Afterward spent some time in discoursing to the
strangers, and was somewhat encouraged with them. Took care of my
people’s secular business, and was not a little exercised with it. Had
some degree of composure and comfort in secret retirement.
_July 22._—“Was in a dejected frame most of the day; wanted to wear out
life, and have it at an end; but had some desires of _living to God_,
and wearing out life _for him_. Oh that I could indeed do so!”
_July 29._—“My mind was cheerful, and free from the melancholy with
which I am often exercised; had freedom in looking up to God at various
times in the day. In the evening I enjoyed a comfortable season in
secret prayer; was helped to plead with God for my own dear people, that
he would carry on his own blessed work among them; and assisted in
praying for the divine presence to attend me in my intended journey to
the Susquehanna. I scarce knew how to leave the throne of grace, and it
grieved me that I was obliged to go to bed; I longed to do something for
God, but knew not how. Blessed be God for this freedom from dejection!
_July 30._—“Was uncommonly comfortable, both in body and mind; in the
forenoon especially, my mind was solemn; I was assisted in my work, and
God seemed to be near to me; so that the day was as comfortable as most
I have enjoyed for some time. In the evening was favored with assistance
in secret prayer, and felt much as I did the evening before. Blessed be
God for that freedom I then enjoyed at the throne of grace, for myself,
my people, and my dear friends!
_August 1._—“In the evening enjoyed a sweet season in secret prayer;
clouds of darkness and perplexing care were sweetly scattered, and
nothing anxious remained. O how serene was my mind at this season! how
free from that distracting concern I have often felt! ‘Thy will be
done,’ was a petition sweet to my soul; and if God had bid me choose for
myself in any affair, I should have chosen rather to have referred the
choice to him; for I saw he was infinitely wise, and could not do any
thing amiss, as I was in danger of doing. Was assisted in prayer for my
dear flock, that God would promote his own work among them, and go with
me in my intended journey to the Susquehanna; was helped to remember my
dear friends in New-England, and my dear brethren in the ministry. I
found enough in the sweet duty of prayer to have engaged me to continue
in it the whole night, would my bodily state have admitted of it. O how
sweet it is, to be enabled heartily to say, ‘Lord, not my will, but
thine be done.’
_August 2._—“Near night, preached from Matt. 11:29. ‘Take my yoke upon
you,’ &c. Was considerably helped, and the presence of God seemed to be
somewhat remarkably in the assembly; divine truth made powerful
impressions, both upon saints and sinners. Blessed be God for such a
revival among us! In the evening was very weary, but found my spirits
supported and refreshed.
_August 7._—“Rode to my house where I spent the last winter, in order to
bring some things I needed for my Susquehanna journey; was refreshed to
see that place, which God so marvellously visited with the showers of
his grace. O how amazing did the _power of God_ often appear there!
‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits.’
_August 9._—“In the afternoon visited my people; set their affairs in
order as much as possible, and contrived for them the management of
their worldly business; discoursed to them in a solemn manner, and
concluded with prayer. Was composed and comfortable in the evening, and
somewhat fervent in secret prayer; had some sense and view of the
eternal world; and found a serenity of mind. O that I could magnify the
Lord for any freedom which he affords me in prayer!
_Lord’s day, Aug. 10._—“Discoursed to my people both parts of the day,
from Acts, 3:19, ‘Repent ye, therefore,’ &c. In discoursing of
repentance, in the forenoon, God helped me, so that my discourse was
searching; some were in tears, both of the Indians and white people, and
the word of God was attended with some power. In the intermission I was
engaged in conversing on their spiritual state, one of whom had very
recently found comfort, after spiritual trouble and distress. In the
afternoon was somewhat assisted again, though weak and weary. Three
persons this day made a public profession of their faith. Was in a
comfortable frame in the evening, and enjoyed some satisfaction in
secret prayer. I have rarely felt myself so full of tenderness as this
day.
_August 11._—“Being about to set out on a journey to the Susquehanna the
next day, with leave of Providence, I spent some time this day in prayer
with my people, that God would bless and succeed my intended journey,
that he would send forth his blessed Spirit with his word, and set up
his kingdom among the poor Indians in the wilderness. While I was
opening and applying part of the 110th and 111th Psalms, the _power of
God_ seemed to descend on the assembly in some measure; and while I was
making the first prayer, numbers were melted, and I found some
affectionate enlargement of soul myself. Preached from Acts, 4:31, ‘And
when they had prayed, the place was shaken,’ &c. God helped me, and my
interpreter also; there was a shaking and melting among us; and several,
I doubt not, were in some measure ‘filled with the Holy Ghost.’
Afterward, Mr. Macnight prayed; and I then opened the two last stanzas
of the 72d Psalm; at which time God was present with us; especially
while I insisted upon the promise of _all nations blessing_ the great
_Redeemer_. My soul was refreshed, to think that this day, this blessed,
glorious season, should surely come; and I trust numbers of my dear
people were also refreshed. Afterward prayed; had some freedom, but was
almost spent; then walked out, and left my people to carry on religious
exercises among themselves. They prayed repeatedly, and sung, while I
rested and refreshed myself. Afterward went to the meeting, prayed with,
and dismissed the assembly. Blessed be God, this has been a day of
grace. There were many tears and affectionate sobs among us this day. In
the evening my soul was refreshed in prayer; enjoyed liberty at the
throne of grace, in praying for my people and friends, and the church of
God in general. 'Bless the Lord, O my soul.'”
The next day he set out on his journey toward the Susquehanna, and six
of his Christian Indians with him, whom he had chosen out of his
congregation, as those he judged most fit to assist him in the business
upon which he was going. He took his way through Philadelphia; intending
to go to the Susquehanna, far down, where it is settled by the white
people, below the country inhabited by the Indians; and so to travel up
the river to the Indian habitations. For although this was much farther,
yet hereby he avoided the mountains and hideous wilderness that must be
crossed in the nearer way; which in time past he found to be extremely
difficult and fatiguing.
_Aug. 19._—“Lodged by the side of the Susquehanna. Was weak and
disordered both this and the preceding day, and found my spirits
considerably damped, meeting with none that I thought godly people.
_Aug. 20._—“Having lain in a cold sweat all night, I coughed up much
bloody matter this morning, and was under great disorder of body, and
not a little melancholy; but what gave me some encouragement, was, I had
a secret hope that I might speedily get a dismission from earth, and all
its toils and sorrows. Rode this day to one Chambers', upon the
Susquehanna, and there lodged. Was much afflicted in the evening with an
ungodly crew, drinking, swearing, &c. O what a _hell_ would it be, to be
numbered with the _ungodly_! Enjoyed some agreeable conversation with a
traveller, who seemed to have some relish of true religion.
_Aug. 21._—“Rode up the river about fifteen miles, and there lodged, in
a family which appeared quite destitute of God. Labored to discourse
with the man about the life of religion, but found him very artful in
evading such conversation. O what a death it is to some, to hear of the
things of God! Was out of my element; but was not so dejected as at some
times.
_Aug. 22._—“Continued my course up the river; my people now being with
me, who before were parted from me; travelled above all the English
settlements; at night lodged in the open woods, and slept with more
comfort than while among an ungodly company of white people. Enjoyed
some liberty in secret prayer this evening; and was helped to remember
dear friends, as well as my dear flock, and the church of God in
general.
_Aug. 23._—“Arrived at the Indian town, called _Shaumoking_, near night;
was not so dejected as formerly, but yet somewhat exercised. Felt
composed in the evening, and enjoyed some freedom in leaving my _all_
with God.
_Lord’s day, Aug. 24._—“Toward noon, visited some of the Delawares, and
conversed with them about Christianity. In the afternoon discoursed to
the _King_, and others, upon divine things; who seemed disposed to hear.
Spent most of the day in these exercises. In the evening enjoyed some
comfort and satisfaction; and especially had some sweetness in secret
prayer. This duty was made so agreeable to me, that I loved to walk
abroad, and repeatedly engage in it. O how comfortable is a little
glimpse of God!
_Aug. 25._—“Spent most of the day in writing. Sent out my people that
were with me, to talk with the Indians, and contract a friendship and
familiarity with them, that I might have a better opportunity of
treating with them about Christianity. Some good seemed to be done by
their visit this day, many appeared willing to hearken to Christianity.
My spirits were a little refreshed this evening, and I found some
liberty and satisfaction in prayer.
_Aug. 26._—“About noon, discoursed to a considerable number of Indians.
God helped me, I am persuaded; for I was enabled to speak with much
plainness, and some warmth and power; and the discourse had impression
upon some, and made them appear very serious. I thought things now
appeared as encouraging as they did at Crossweeks. At the time of my
first visit to those Indians, I was a little encouraged; I pressed
things with all my might, and called out my people, who were then
present, to give in _their testimony_ for God; which they did. Toward
night, was refreshed; had a heart to pray for the setting up of God’s
kingdom here, as well as for my dear congregation below, and my dear
friends elsewhere.
_Aug. 28._—“In the forenoon, I was under great concern of mind about my
work. Was visited by some who desired to hear me preach; discoursed to
them in the afternoon with some fervency, and labored to persuade them
to turn to God. Was full of concern for the kingdom of Christ, and found
some enlargement of soul in prayer, both in secret and in my family.
Scarce ever saw more clearly, than this day, that it is God’s work to
convert souls, and especially poor Heathens. I knew I could not touch
them; I saw I could only speak to dry bones, but could give them no
sense of what I said. My eyes were up to God for help: I could say the
work was his; and if done, the glory would be his.
_Lord’s day, Aug. 31._—“Spent much time, in the morning, in secret
duties; found a weight upon my spirits, and could not but cry to God
with concern and engagement of soul. Spent some time also in reading and
expounding God’s word to my dear family which was with me, as well as in
singing and prayer with them. Afterwards spake the word of God to some
few of the Susquehanna Indians. In the afternoon, felt very weak and
feeble. Near night was somewhat refreshed in mind, with some views of
things relating to my great work. O how heavy is my work, when _faith_
cannot take hold of an _almighty arm_ for the performance of it! Many
times have I been ready to sink in this case. Blessed be God, that I may
repair to a full fountain!
_Sept. 1._—“Set out on a journey toward a place called _The great
Island_, about fifty miles distant from Shaumoking, on the north-western
branch of the Susquehanna. Travelled some part of the way, and at night
lodged in the woods. Was exceedingly feeble this day, and sweat much the
night following.
_Sept. 2._—“Rode forward, but no faster than my people went on foot. Was
very weak, on this as well as the preceding days. I was so feeble and
faint, that I feared it would kill me to lie out in the open air; and
some of our company being parted from us, so that we had now no axe with
us, I had no way but to climb into a young pine tree, and with my knife
to lop the branches, and so make a shelter from the dew. But the evening
being cloudy, with a prospect of rain, I was still under fears of being
extremely exposed: sweat much, so that my linen was almost wringing wet
all night. I scarcely ever was more weak and weary than this evening,
when I was able to sit up at all. This was a melancholy situation; but I
endeavored to quiet myself with considerations of the possibility of my
being in much worse circumstances amongst enemies, &c.
_Sept. 3._—“Rode to the Delaware-town; found many drinking and drunken.
Discoursed with some of the Indians about Christianity; observed my
interpreter much engaged, and assisted in his work; a few persons seemed
to hear with great earnestness and engagement of soul. About noon, rode
to a small town of Shauwaunoes, about eight miles distant; spent an hour
or two there, and returned to the Delaware-town, and lodged there. Was
scarce ever more confounded with a sense of my own unfruitfulness and
unfitness for my work than now. O what a dead, heartless, barren,
unprofitable wretch did I now see myself to be! My spirits were so low,
and my bodily strength so wasted, that I could do nothing at all. At
length, being much overdone, lay down on a buffalo-skin; but sweat much
the whole night.
_Sept. 4._—“Discoursed with the Indians, in the morning, about
Christianity; my Interpreter, afterward, carrying on the discourse to a
considerable length. Some few appeared well disposed, and somewhat
affected. Left this place, and returned toward Shaumoking; and at night
lodged in the place where I lodged the Monday night before: was in very
uncomfortable circumstances in the evening, my people being late, and
not coming to me till past ten at night; so that I had no fire to dress
any victuals, or to keep me warm, or keep off wild beasts; and I was
scarce ever more weak and exhausted. However, I lay down and slept
before my people came up, expecting nothing else but to spend the whole
night alone, and without fire.
_Sept. 5._—“Was exceeding weak, so that I could scarcely ride; it seemed
sometimes as if I must fall from my horse, and lie in the open woods:
however, got to Shaumoking toward night: felt somewhat of a spirit of
thankfulness, that God had so far returned me: was refreshed to see one
of my Christians, whom I left here in my late excursion.
_Sept. 6._—“Spent the day in a very weak state; coughing and spitting
blood, and having little appetite for any food I had with me; was able
to do very little, except discourse a while of divine things to my own
people, and to some few I met with. Had, by this time, very little life
or heart to speak for God, through feebleness of body. Was scarcely ever
more ashamed and confounded in myself than now. I was sensible that
there were numbers of God’s people who knew I was then out upon a
design, or at least the pretence, of doing something for God, and in his
cause, among the poor Indians; and they were ready to suppose that I was
_fervent in spirit_; but O the heartless frame of my mind filled me with
confusion! O, methought, if God’s people knew me as God knows, they
would not think so highly of my zeal and resolution for God as perhaps
now they do! I could not but desire they should see how heartless and
irresolute I was, that they might be undeceived, and ‘not think of me
above what they ought to think.’ And yet I thought, if they saw the
utmost of my unfaithfulness, the smallness of my courage and resolution
for God, they would be ready to shut me out of their doors, as unworthy
of the company or friendship of Christians.
_Lord’s day, Sept. 7._—“Was much in the same weak state of body, and
afflicted frame of mind, as in the preceding day: my soul was grieved,
and mourned that I could do nothing for God. Read and expounded some
part of God’s word to my own dear family, and spent some time in prayer
with them; discoursed also a little to the Pagans; but spent the Sabbath
with a little comfort.
_Sept. 8._—“Spent the forenoon among the Indians; in the afternoon, left
Shaumoking, and returned down the river a few miles. Had proposed to
tarry a considerable time longer among the Indians upon the Susquehanna,
but was hindered from pursuing my purpose by the sickness that prevailed
there, the feeble state of my own people that were with me, and
especially my own extraordinary weakness, having been exercised with
great nocturnal sweats, and a coughing up of blood, almost the whole of
the journey. I was a great part of the time so feeble and faint, that it
seemed as though I never should be able to reach home; and at the same
time very destitute of the comforts, and even the necessaries of life;
at least, what was necessary for one in so weak a state. In this journey
I sometimes was enabled to speak the word of God with some power, and
divine truth made some impression on those who heard me; so that
several, both men and women, old and young, seemed to cleave to us, and
be well disposed toward Christianity; but _others mocked_ and shouted,
which damped those who before seemed friendly, at least some of them.
Yet God, at times, was evidently present, assisting me, my Interpreter,
and other dear friends who were with me. God gave sometimes a good
degree of freedom in prayer for the ingathering of souls there; and I
could not but entertain a strong hope, that the journey would not be
wholly fruitless. Whether the issue of it would be the setting up of
Christ’s kingdom there, or only the drawing of some few persons down to
my congregation in New-Jersey; or whether they were now only preparing
for some farther attempts that might be made among them, I did not
determine; but I was persuaded the journey would not be lost. Blessed be
God, that I had any encouragement and hope.
_Sept. 9._—“Rode down the river near thirty miles. Was extremely weak,
much fatigued, and wet with a thunder storm. Discoursed with some warmth
and closeness to some poor ignorant souls, on the _life_ and _power_ of
_religion_: what were, and what were not the _evidences_ of it. They
seemed much astonished when they saw my Indians ask a blessing and give
thanks at dinner, concluding _that_ a very high evidence of grace in
them; but were equally astonished when I insisted that neither that, nor
yet secret prayer, was any sure evidence of grace. O the ignorance of
the world! How are some empty outward forms, that may all be entirely
selfish, mistaken for true religion, infallible evidences of it! The
Lord pity a deluded world!
_Sept. 11._—“Rode homeward; but was very weak, and sometimes scarce able
to ride. Had a very importunate invitation to preach at a meeting-house
I came by, the people being then gathered, but could not by reason of
weakness. Was resigned and composed under my weakness; but was much
exercised with concern for my companions in travel, whom I had left with
much regret, some lame, and some sick.
_Sept. 20._—“Arrived among my own people, (near Cranberry,) just at
night: found them praying together; went in, and gave them some account
of God’s dealings with me and my companions in the journey; which seemed
affecting to them. I then prayed with them, and thought the divine
presence was among us; several were melted into tears, and seemed to
have a sense of divine things. Being very weak, I was obliged soon to
repair to my lodgings, and felt much worn out in the evening. Thus God
has carried me through the fatigues and perils of another journey to the
Susquehanna, and returned me again in safety, though under a great
degree of bodily indisposition. O that my soul were truly thankful for
renewed instances of mercy! Many hardships and distresses I endured in
this journey; but the Lord supported me under them all.”
Hitherto BRAINERD had kept a constant _diary_, giving an account of what
passed from day to day, with very little interruption; but henceforward
his diary is very much interrupted by his illness; under which 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 digest it, and
put on paper an orderly account of it. However, his diary was not wholly
neglected; but he took care, from time to time, to take some notice in
it of the most material things concerning himself and the state of his
mind, even till within a few days of his death.
_Lord’s day, Sept. 21, 1746._—“I was so weak that 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 them from Rom. 14:7, 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. Was enabled to sleep very
little this night, through weariness and pain. O how blessed should I
be, if the little I do were all done with right views! O that, 'whether
I live, I might live to the Lord; or whether I die, I might die unto the
Lord; that, whether living or dying, I might be the Lord’s!'
_Sept. 27._—“Spent this day, as well as the whole week past, under a
great degree of bodily weakness, exercised with a violent cough and a
considerable fever. I had no appetite for any kind of food, could not
retain it on my stomach, and frequently had little rest in my bed, owing
to pains in my breast and back. I was able, however, to ride over to my
people, about two miles, every day, and take some care of those who were
then at work upon a small house for me to reside in among the
Indians.[H] I was sometimes scarce able to walk, and never able to sit
up the whole day, through the week. Was calm and composed, and but
little exercised with melancholy, as in former seasons of weakness.
Whether I should ever recover or no, seemed very doubtful; but this was
many times a comfort to me, that _life_ and _death_ did not depend upon
_my_ choice. I was pleased to think, that He who is infinitely wise, had
the determination of this matter; and that I had no trouble to consider
and weigh things upon all sides, in order to make the choice whether I
should live or die. Thus my time was consumed; I had little strength to
pray, none to write or read, and scarce any to meditate; but, through
divine goodness, I could with great composure look death in the face,
and frequently with sensible joy. O how blessed it is to be _habitually
prepared_ for death!
Footnote H:
This was the _fourth_ house he built for his residence among the
Indians. Beside that at _Kaunaumeek_, and that at the _Forks of
Delaware_, and another at _Crossweeksung_, he built one now at
_Cranberry_.
_Lord’s day, Sept. 28._—“Rode to my people, and, though under much
weakness, attempted to preach from 2 Cor. 13:5. Discoursed about half an
hour, at which season divine power seemed to attend the word; but being
extremely weak, I was obliged to desist; and after a turn of faintness,
with much difficulty rode to my lodgings, where, betaking myself to my
bed, I lay in a burning fever, and almost delirious for several hours,
till, toward morning, my fever went off with a violent sweat. I have
often been feverish and unable to rest quietly after preaching; but this
was the most severe, distressing turn, that ever preaching brought upon
me. Yet I felt perfectly at rest in my own mind, because I had made my
utmost attempts to speak for God, and knew I could do no more.
_Oct. 4._—“Spent the former part of this week under a great degree of
infirmity and disorder, as I had done several weeks before; was able,
however, to ride a little every day, although unable to sit up half the
day, till Thursday. Took some care daily of some persons at work upon my
house. On Friday afternoon found myself wonderfully revived and
strengthened. Having some time before given notice to my people, and
those of them at the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed,
with the leave of Providence, to administer the Lord’s supper upon the
first Sabbath in October, on Friday afternoon I preached preparatory to
the ordinance, from 2 Cor. 13:5; finishing what I had proposed to offer
upon the subject the Sabbath before. The sermon was blessed of God to
the stirring up religious affection and a spirit of devotion in his
people, and greatly affected one who had _backslidden_ from God, which
caused him to judge and condemn himself. I was surprisingly strengthened
in my work while I was speaking; but was obliged immediately after to
repair to bed, being now removed into my own house among the Indians.
Spent some time in conversing with my people about divine things as I
lay upon my bed, and found my soul refreshed, though my body was
weak.—This being Saturday, I discoursed particularly with divers of the
communicants; and this afternoon preached from Zech. 12:10. There seemed
to be a tender melting and hearty mourning for sin, in numbers in the
congregation. My soul was in a comfortable frame, and I enjoyed freedom
and assistance in public service; was myself, as well as most of the
congregation, much affected with the humble confession and apparent
broken-heartedness of the forementioned backslider, and could not but
rejoice that God had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness.
Was extremely tired in the evening, but lay on my bed, and discoursed to
my people.
_Lord’s day, Oct. 5._—“Was still very weak; and in the morning
considerably afraid I should not be able to go through the work of the
day; having much to do, both in private and public. Discoursed before
the administration of the Lord’s supper, from John, 1:29, ‘Behold the
Lamb of God, that taketh away the sins of the world.’ Where I considered
(1.) in what respects Christ is called the ‘Lamb of God;’ and observed
that he is so called, from the purity and innocency of his nature—from
his meekness and patience under sufferings—from his being that atonement
which was pointed out in the sacrifice of lambs, and in particular by
the paschal lamb. (2.) Considered how and in what sense he ‘takes away
the sin of the world;’ and observed, that the means and manner in and by
which he takes away the sins of men, was his ‘giving himself for them,’
doing and suffering in their room and stead, &c. And he is said to take
away the sin of the world, not because all the world shall actually be
redeemed from sin by him, but because he has done and suffered
sufficient to answer for the sins of the world, and so to redeem all
mankind;—he actually does take away the sins of the elect world. And
(3.) considered how we are to behold him, in order to have our sins
taken away. Not with our bodily eyes; nor by imagining him on the cross,
&c.; but by a spiritual view of his glory and goodness, engaging the
soul to rely on him, &c.—The divine presence attended this discourse;
and the assembly was considerably melted with divine truth. After
sermon, two made a public profession, and I administered the Lord’s
supper to near forty communicants of the Indians, besides divers dear
Christians of the white people. It seemed to be a season of divine power
and grace; and numbers seemed to rejoice in God. O the sweet union and
harmony then appearing among the religious people! My soul was
refreshed, and my religious friends of the white people with me. After
the ordinance, could scarcely get home, though it was not more than
twenty rods; but was supported and led by my friends, and laid on my
bed; where I lay in pain till some time in the evening; and then was
able to sit up and discourse with friends. O how was this day spent in
prayers and praises among my dear people! One might hear them, all the
morning before public worship, and in the evening, till near midnight,
praying and singing praises to God, in one or other of their houses. My
soul was refreshed, though my body was weak.
_Oct. 11._—“Toward night was seized with an ague, which was followed
with a hard fever and considerable pain; was treated with great
kindness; and was ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a
creature as I knew myself to be. Was in a comfortable frame of mind,
wholly submissive, with regard to _life or death_. It was indeed a
peculiar satisfaction to me, to think that it was not _my_ concern or
business to determine whether I should live or die. I likewise felt
peculiarly satisfied, while under this uncommon degree of disorder;
being now fully convinced of my being really weak, and unable to perform
my work. Whereas, at other times, my mind was perplexed with fears that
I was a misimprover of time, by conceiving I was sick, when I was not in
reality so. O how precious is time! And how guilty it makes me feel,
when I think that I have trifled away and misimproved it or neglected to
fill up each part of it with duty, to the utmost of my ability and
capacity!
_Lord’s day, Oct. 19._—“Was scarcely able to do any thing at all in the
week past, except that on Thursday I rode out about four miles; at which
time I took cold. As I was able to do little or nothing, so I enjoyed
not much spirituality, or lively religious affection; though at some
times I longed much to be more fruitful and full of heavenly affection;
and was grieved to see the hours slide away, while I could do nothing
for God.—Was able this week to attend public worship. Was composed and
comfortable, willing either to die or live; but found it hard to be
reconciled to the thoughts of living _useless_. Oh that I might never
live to be a burden to God’s creation; but that I might be allowed to
repair _home_, when my _sojourning_ work is done!”
This week, he went back to his Indians at Cranberry, to take some care
of their spiritual and temporal concerns; and was much spent with
riding, though he rode but a little way in a day.
_Oct. 23._—“Went to my own house, and set things in order. Was very
weak, and somewhat melancholy; labored to do something, but had no
strength; and was forced to lie down on my bed, very solitary.
_Oct. 24._—“Spent the day in overseeing and directing my people, about
mending their fence and securing their wheat. Found that all their
concerns of a secular nature depended upon me. Was somewhat refreshed in
the evening, having been able to do something valuable in the day-time.
O how it pains me to see time pass away, when I can do nothing to any
purpose!
_Lord’s day, Oct. 26.-_-“In the morning was exceedingly weak. Spent the
day, till near night, in pain, to see my poor people wandering ‘as sheep
not having a shepherd,’ waiting and hoping to see me able to preach to
them before night. It could not but distress me to see them in this
case, and to find myself unable to attempt any thing for their spiritual
benefit. But toward night, finding myself a little better, I called them
together to my house, and sat down, and read and expounded Matthew,
5:1-16. This discourse, though delivered in much weakness, was attended
with power to many of the hearers; especially what was spoken upon the
last of these verses; where I insisted on the infinite wrong done to
religion, by having our light become darkness, instead of shining before
men. Many in the congregation were now deeply affected with a sense of
their deficiency with respect to a spiritual conversation which might
recommend religion to others, and a spirit of concern and watchfulness
seemed to be excited in them. One, in particular, who had fallen in the
sin of drunkenness some time before, was now deeply convinced of his
sin, and the great dishonor done to religion by his misconduct, and
discovered a great degree of grief and concern on that account. My soul
was refreshed to see this; and though I had no strength to speak so much
as I would have done, but was obliged to lie down on the bed, yet I
rejoiced to see such an humble melting in the congregation, and that
divine truths, though faintly delivered, were attended with so much
efficacy upon the auditory.
_Oct. 27._—“Spent the day in overseeing and directing the Indians about
mending the fence round their wheat: was able to walk with them, and
contrive their business, all the forenoon. In the afternoon, was visited
by two dear friends, and spent some time in conversation with them.
Toward night I was able to walk out, and take care of the Indians again.
In the evening, enjoyed a very peaceful frame.
_Oct. 28._—“Rode to Princeton in a very weak state, had such a violent
fever by the way, that I was forced to alight at a friend’s house, and
lie down for some time. Near night, was visited by Mr. Treat, Mr. Beaty
and his wife, and another friend. My spirits were refreshed to see them;
but I was surprised, and even ashamed, that they had taken so much pains
as to ride thirty or forty miles to see me. Was able to sit up most of
the evening; and spent the time in a very comfortable manner with my
friends.
_Oct. 29._—“Rode about ten miles with my friends who came yesterday to
see me; and then parted with them all but one, who stayed on purpose to
keep me company, and cheer my spirits.
_Lords day, Nov. 2._—“Was unable to preach, and scarcely able to sit up
the whole day. Was grieved, and almost sunk, to see my poor people
destitute of the means of grace; especially as they could not read, and
so were under great disadvantages for spending the Sabbath comfortably.
O, methought, I could be contented to be sick, if my poor flock had a
faithful pastor to feed them with spiritual knowledge! A view of their
want of this was more afflictive to me than all my bodily illness.
_Nov. 3._—“Being now in so weak and low a state that I was utterly
incapable of performing my work, and having little hope of recovery,
unless by much riding, I thought it my duty to take a journey into
New-England, and to divert myself among my friends, whom I had not now
seen for a long time. Accordingly I took leave of my congregation this
day. Before I left my people, I visited them all in their respective
houses, and discoursed to each one, as I thought most proper and
suitable for their circumstances, and found great freedom in so doing. I
scarcely left one house but some were in tears; and many were not only
affected with my being about to leave them, but with the solemn
addresses I made them upon divine things; for I was helped to be fervent
in spirit while I discoursed to them. When I had thus gone through my
congregation, which took me most of the day, and had taken leave of
them, and of the school, I left home, and rode about two miles, to the
house where I lived in the summer past, and there lodged. Was refreshed
this evening, because I had left my congregation so well disposed and
affected, and had been so much assisted in making my farewell addresses
to them.
_Nov. 5._—“Rode to Elizabethtown; intending, as soon as possible, to
prosecute my journey into New-England; but was, in an hour or two after
my arrival, taken much worse. For near a week I was confined to my
chamber, and most of the time to my bed; and then so far revived as to
be able to walk about the house; but was still confined within doors.
“In the beginning of this extraordinary turn of disorder after my coming
to Elizabethtown, I was enabled, through mercy, to maintain a calm,
composed, and patient spirit, as I had been before from the beginning of
my weakness. After I had been in Elizabethtown about a fortnight, and
had so far recovered that I was able to walk about the house, upon a day
of thanksgiving kept in this place, I was enabled to recal the mercies
of God in such a manner as greatly affected me, and filled me with
thankfulness and praise. Especially my soul praised God for his work of
grace among the Indians, and the enlargement of his dear kingdom. My
soul blessed God for what he is in himself, and adored him, that he ever
would display himself to creatures. I rejoiced that he was God, and
longed that all should know it, and feel it, and rejoice in it. ‘Lord,
glorify thyself,’ was the desire and cry of my soul. O that all people
might love and praise the blessed God; that he might have all possible
honor and glory from the intelligent world!
“After this comfortable thanksgiving season, I frequently enjoyed
freedom, enlargement, and engagedness of soul in prayer; and was enabled
to intercede with God for my dear congregation, very often for every
family, and every person in particular. It was often a great comfort to
me, that I could pray heartily to God for those to whom I could not
speak, and whom I was not allowed to see. But, at other times, my
spirits were so low, and my bodily vigor so much wasted, that I had
scarce any affections at all.
“In December, I had revived so far as to be able to walk abroad and
visit my friends, and seemed to be gaining health, in the main, until
Lord’s day, December 21, when I attended public worship, and labored
much, at the Lord’s table, to bring forth a certain corruption, and have
it slain, as being an enemy to God and my own soul; and could not but
hope that I had gained some strength against this, as well as other
corruptions; and felt some brokenness of heart for my sin.
“After this, having perhaps taken some cold, I began to decline as to
bodily health; and continued to do so till the latter end of January,
1747. Having a violent cough, a considerable fever, an asthmatic
disorder, and no appetite for any manner of food, nor any power of
digestion, I was reduced to so low a state, that my friends, I believe,
generally despaired of my life; and some of them, for a considerable
time, thought I could scarce live a day. I could then think of nothing
with any application of mind, and seemed to be in a great measure void
of all affection, and was exercised with great temptations; but yet was
not, ordinarily, afraid of death.
_Lord’s day, Feb. 1._—“Though in a very weak and low state, I enjoyed a
considerable degree of comfort and sweetness in divine things; and was
enabled to plead and use arguments with God in prayer, I think, with a
child-like spirit. That passage of scripture occurred to my mind, and
gave me great assistance, ‘If ye, being evil, know how to give good
gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give the
Holy Spirit to them that ask him?’ This text I was helped to plead, and
insist upon; and saw the divine faithfulness engaged for dealing with me
better than any earthly parent can do with his child. This season so
refreshed my soul, that my body seemed also to be a gainer by it. From
this time I began gradually to amend. As I recovered some strength,
vigor, and spirit, I found at times some freedom and life in the
exercises of devotion, and some longings after spirituality and a life
of usefulness to the interests of the great Redeemer. At other times, I
was awfully barren and lifeless, and out of frame for the things of God;
so that I was ready often to cry out, ‘O that it were with me as in
months past!’ O that God had taken me away in the midst of my
usefulness, with a sudden stroke, that I might not have been under a
necessity of trifling away time in diversions! O that I had never lived
to spend so much precious time in so poor a manner, and to so little
purpose! Thus I often reflected, was grieved, ashamed, and even
confounded, sunk, and discouraged.
_Feb. 24._—“I was able to ride as far as Newark, (having been confined
in Elizabethtown almost four months,) and the next day returned to
Elizabethtown. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with the ride, though
my body was weary.
_Feb. 28._—“Was visited by an Indian of my own congregation, who brought
me letters, and good news of the sober and good behavior of my people in
general. This refreshed my soul. I could not but retire and bless God
for his goodness; and found, I trust, a truly thankful frame of spirit,
that God seemed to be building up that congregation for himself.
_March 4._—“I met with reproof from a friend, which, although I thought
I did not deserve it from him, yet was, I trust, blessed of God to make
me more tenderly afraid of sin, more jealous over myself, and more
concerned to keep both heart and life pure and unblameable. It likewise
caused me to reflect on my past deadness and want of spirituality, and
to abhor myself, and look on myself as most unworthy. This frame of mind
continued the next day; and for several days after, I grieved to think
that in my necessary diversions I had not maintained more seriousness,
solemnity, and heavenly affection and conversation. Thus my spirits were
often depressed and sunk; and yet, I trust, that reproof was made to be
beneficial to me.
“_March 11_, being kept in Elizabethtown as a day of fasting and prayer,
I was able to attend public worship; which was the first time I had been
able so to do since December 21. O how much weakness and distress did
God carry me through in this space of time! But ‘having obtained help
from him,’ I yet live. O that I could live more to his glory!
_Lord’s day, March 15._—“Was able again to attend public worship, and
felt some earnest desires of being restored to the ministerial work:
felt, I think, some spirit and life to speak for God.
_March 18._—“Rode out with a design to visit my people, and the next day
arrived among them; but was under great dejection in my journey.
“On _Friday_ morning I rose early, walked about among my people,
enquired into their state and concerns, and found an additional weight
and burden on my spirits, upon hearing some things disagreeable. I
endeavored to go to God with my distresses, and made some kind of
lamentable complaint, and in a broken manner spread my difficulties
before God; but notwithstanding, my mind continued very gloomy. About
ten o’clock I called my people together, and after having explained and
sung a psalm, I prayed with them. There was considerable affection among
them; I doubt not, in some instances, that which was more than merely
natural.”
This was the last interview which he ever had with his people. About
eleven o’clock the same day he left them, and the next day came to
Elizabethtown.
_March 28._—“Was taken this morning with violent griping pains. These
pains were extreme and constant for several hours; so that it seemed
impossible for me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours in such
distress. I lay confined to my bed the whole day, and in distressing
pain all the former part of it; but it pleased God to bless means for
the abatement of my distress. Was exceedingly weakened by this pain, and
continued so for several days following; being exercised with a fever,
cough, and nocturnal sweats. In this distressed case, so long as my head
was free of vapory confusions, _death_ appeared agreeable to me. I
looked on it as the end of toils, and an entrance into a place ‘where
the weary are at rest;’ and think I had some relish for the
entertainments of the heavenly state; so that by these I was allured and
drawn, as well as driven by the fatigues of life. O how happy it is to
be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness!
_April 4._—“Was sunk and dejected, very restless and uneasy, by reason
of the misimprovement of time; and yet knew not what to do. I longed to
spend time in fasting and prayer, that I might be delivered from
indolence and coldness in the things of God; but, alas, I had not bodily
strength for these exercises! O how blessed a thing it is to enjoy peace
of conscience! but how dreadful is a want of inward peace and composure
of soul! It is impossible, I find, to enjoy this happiness without
_redeeming time_, and maintaining a spiritual frame of mind.
_Lord’s day, April 5._—“It grieved me to find myself so inconceivably
barren. My soul thirsted for grace; but, alas, how far was I from
obtaining what appeared to me so exceeding excellent! I was ready to
despair of ever being a holy creature, and yet my soul was desirous of
‘following hard after God;’ but never did I see myself so far from
‘having apprehended, or being already perfect,’ as at this time. The
Lord’s supper being this day administered, I attended the ordinance; and
though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness and want of grace, and saw
myself as it were at an infinite distance from that purity which becomes
the gospel, yet at the communion, especially during the distribution of
the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, and felt a tender love to
the brethren; and, I think, to the glorious Redeemer, the _first-born_
among them. I endeavored then to bring forth mine and his ‘enemies,’ and
‘slay them before him;’ and found great freedom in begging deliverance
from this spiritual death, as well as in asking divine favors for my
friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.
_April 10._—“This day my brother John arrived at Elizabethtown. Spent
some time in conversation with him; but was extremely weak.”
This brother had been sent for by the _Correspondents_, to take care of
and instruct Brainerd’s congregation of Indians; he being obliged by his
illness to be absent from them. He continued to take care of them till
Brainerd’s death, and was soon after ordained his _successor_ in his
mission, and to the charge of his congregation.
_April 17._—“In the evening, could not but think that God helped me to
‘draw near to the throne of grace,’ though most unworthy, and gave me a
sense of his favor; which afforded me inexpressible support and
encouragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope that the mercy was real,
it appeared so great; yet could not but rejoice that ever God should
discover his reconciled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion,
at times, covered me; and then hope, and joy, and admiration of divine
goodness gained the ascendancy. Sometimes I could not but admire the
divine goodness, that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grossest
and vilest acts of sin.
_April 20._—“Was in a very disordered state, and kept my bed most of the
day. I enjoyed a little more comfort than in several of the preceding
days. _This day I arrived at the age of twenty-nine years._
_April 21._—“I set out on my journey for New England, in order (if it
might be the will of God) to recover my health by riding.”
This proved his final departure from New-Jersey. He travelled slowly,
and arrived among his friends at East-Haddam, about the beginning of
May. There is very little account in his diary, of the time that passed
from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He speaks of his
sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in the glorious perfections of
God, and longing to live to him; but complains of the unfixedness of his
thoughts, and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, and
cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, in the loudest
manner. Concerning those _diversions_ which he was obliged to use for
his health, he says, that he sometimes found he could use diversions
with “singleness of heart,” aiming at the glory of God; but that he also
found there was a necessity of great care and watchfulness, lest he
should lose that spiritual temper of mind in his diversions, and lest
they should degenerate into what was merely selfish, without any supreme
aim at the glory of God in them.
_Lord’s day, May 10._—“I could not but feel some measure of gratitude to
God at this time, that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to
insist on the great doctrines of _regeneration_, the _new creature_,
_faith in Christ_, _progressive sanctification_, _supreme love to God_,
_living entirely to the glory of God_, _being not our own_, and the
like. God thus helped me to see, in the surest manner, from time to
time, that these, and the like doctrines necessarily connected with
them, are the _only foundation_ of safety and salvation for perishing
sinners and that those divine dispositions which are consonant hereto,
are that _holiness_, ‘without which no man shall see the Lord.’ The
exercise of these Godlike tempers—wherein the soul acts in a kind of
concert with God, and would be and do every thing that is pleasing to
him—I saw, would stand by the soul in a dying hour; for God must, I
think, _deny himself_, if he cast away _his own image_, even the soul
that is one in desires with himself.
_Lord’s day, May 17._—“Spent the forenoon at home, being unable to
attend public worship. At this time, God gave me such an affecting sense
of my own vileness, and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart, that there
seemed to be nothing but sin and corruption within me. ‘Innumerable
evils compassed me about;’ my want of spirituality and holy living, my
neglect of God, and living to myself. All the abominations of my heart
and life seemed to be open to my view; and I had nothing to say, but,
‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’ Toward noon, I saw that the grace of
God in Christ is infinitely free toward sinners, such sinners as I was.
I also saw that God is the supreme good; that in his presence is life;
and I began to long to die, that I might be with him, in a state of
freedom from all sin. O how a small glimpse of his excellency refreshed
my soul! O how worthy is the blessed God to be loved, adored, and
delighted in, for himself, for his own divine excellencies!
“Though I felt much dulness, and want of a spirit of prayer this week,
yet I had some glimpses of the excellency of divine things; and
especially one morning, in secret meditation and prayer, the excellency
and beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so
discovered to me, that I began to long earnestly to be in that world
where holiness dwells in perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect
holiness, not so much for the sake of my own happiness, although I saw
clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the only happiness of the soul,
as that I might please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to the
utmost stretch of my rational powers and capacities.
_Lord’s day, May 24._—“(At Long-Meadow, in Massachusetts.) Could not but
think, as I have often remarked to others, that much more of _true
religion_ consists in _deep humility, brokenness of heart, and an
abasing sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness_, than most
who are called Christians imagine; especially those who have been
esteemed the converts of the late day. Many seem to know of no other
religion but elevated joys and affections, arising only from some
flights of imagination, or some suggestion made to their mind, of Christ
being their’s, God loving them, and the like.”
On Thursday, May 28, he came from Long-Meadow to Northampton, appearing
vastly better than, by his account, he had been in the winter—indeed so
well, that he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk
half a mile; and appeared cheerful, and free from melancholy; but yet he
was undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed, incurable consumption.
I had had much opportunity, before this, of particular information
concerning him, from many who were well acquainted with him; and had
enjoyed a personal interview with him, at New-Haven, near four years
before, as has been already mentioned; but now I had opportunity for a
more full acquaintance. I found him remarkably sociable, pleasant, and
entertaining in his conversation; yet solid, savory, spiritual, and very
profitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble; far from any
stiffness, moroseness, or affected singularity in speech or behavior,
and seeming to dislike all such things. We enjoyed not only the benefit
of his conversation, but had the comfort and advantage of joining with
him in family prayer, from time to time. His manner of praying was very
agreeable, most becoming a worm of the dust and a disciple of Christ,
addressing an infinitely great and holy God, the Father of mercies; not
with florid expressions, or a studied eloquence; not with any
intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness. It was at the greatest
distance from any appearance of ostentation, and from every thing that
might look as though he meant to recommend himself to those that were
about him, or set himself off to their acceptance. It was free also from
vain repetitions; without impertinent excursions, or needless
multiplying of words. He expressed himself with the strictest propriety,
with weight and pungency; and yet, what his lips uttered seemed to flow
from the _fulness of his heart_, as deeply impressed with a great and
solemn sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, and of
God’s infinite greatness, excellency and sufficiency, rather than merely
from a warm and fruitful brain, pouring out good expressions. I know not
that I ever heard him so much as ask a blessing or return thanks at
table, but there was something remarkable to be observed both in the
matter and manner of the performance. In his prayers, he insisted much
on the prosperity of Zion, the advancement of Christ’s kingdom in the
world, and the flourishing and propagation of religion among the
Indians. And he generally made it one petition in his prayer, “that we
might not outlive our usefulness.”
_Lord’s day, May 31._—“(At Northampton.) I had little inward sweetness
in religion most of the week past; not realizing and beholding
spiritually the glory of God and the blessed Redeemer; from whence
always arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have any at all; and
if I cannot so behold the excellencies and perfections of God, as to
cause me to rejoice in him for what he is in himself, I have no solid
foundation for joy. To rejoice, only because I apprehend I have an
interest in Christ, and shall be finally saved, is a poor mean business
indeed.”
This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness;
who plainly told him, that there were great evidences of his being in a
confirmed _consumption_, and that he could give him no encouragement
that he would ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the least
discomposure in him, nor to make any manner of alteration as to the
cheerfulness and serenity of his mind, or the freedom or pleasantness of
his conversation.
_Lord’s day, June 7._—“My attention was greatly engaged, and my soul so
drawn forth this day, by what I heard of the 'exceeding preciousness of
the saving grace of God’s Spirit,' that it almost overcame my body, in
my weak state. I saw that true grace is exceedingly precious indeed;
that it is very rare; and that there is but a very small degree of it,
even where the reality of it is to be found; at least I saw this to be
_my_ case.
“In the preceding week, I enjoyed some comfortable seasons of
meditation. One morning, the cause of God appeared exceedingly precious
to me. The Redeemer’s kingdom is all that is valuable in the earth, and
I could not but long for the promotion of it in the world. I saw also,
that this cause is God’s; that he has an infinitely greater regard and
concern for it than I could possibly have; that if I have any true love
to this blessed interest, it is only a drop derived from that ocean.
Hence I was ready to ‘lift up my head with joy,’ and conclude, 'Well, if
God’s cause be so dear and precious to him, he will promote it.' Thus I
did, as it were, rest on God that he would surely promote that which was
so agreeable to his own will; though the time when, must still be left
to his sovereign pleasure.”
He was advised by physicians still to continue riding, as what would
tend, above any other means, to prolong his life. He was at a loss, for
some time, which way to bend his course; but finally determined to ride
from hence to Boston; we having concluded that one of our family should
go with him, and be helpful to him in his weak and low state.
_June 9._—“I set out on a journey from Northampton to Boston. Travelled
slowly, and got some acquaintance with a number of ministers on the
road.
“Having now continued to ride for a considerable time, I felt much
better than I had formerly done, and found, that in proportion to the
prospect I had of being restored to a state of usefulness, I desired the
continuance of life; but now _death_ appeared inconceivably more
desirable to me than a useless life; yet, blessed be God, I found my
heart, at times, fully resigned and reconciled to this greatest of
afflictions, if God saw fit thus to deal with me.
_June 12._—“I arrived in Boston this day, somewhat fatigued with my
journey. Observed that there is no _rest_ but in God; fatigues of body,
and anxieties of mind, attend us both in town and country: no place is
exempt.
_Lord’s day, June 14._—“I enjoyed some enlargement and sweetness in
family prayer, as well as in secret exercises; God appeared excellent,
his ways full of pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of
holy fervency to live to him.
_June 17._—“This and the two preceding days I spent mainly in visiting
the ministers of the town, and was treated with great respect by them.
_June 18._—“I was taken exceedingly ill, and brought to the gates of
death, by the breaking of small ulcers in my lungs, as my physician
supposed. In this extremely weak state I continued for several weeks;
and was frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speechless, and not
so much as to whisper a word. Even after I had so far revived as to walk
about the house, and to step out of doors, I was exercised every day
with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five hours; at which
times, though I was not so utterly speechless but that I could say yes
or no, yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence, without
making stops for breath; and a number of times my friends gathered round
my bed, to see me breathe my last, which they expected every moment, as
I myself also did.
“How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the
exercise of reason, I scarcely know. I believe I was somewhat shattered
with the violence of the fever at times; but the third day of my
illness, and constantly afterward, for four or five weeks together, I
enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps
ever in my life. I think that my mind never penetrated with so much ease
and freedom into divine things, as at this time; and I never felt so
capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the
Gospel as now. As I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrines,
which are justly styled the _doctrines of grace_; so I saw with no less
clearness, that the _essence of religion_ consisted in the soul’s
_conformity to God_, and acting above all selfish views for his _glory_,
longing to be _for him_, to live _to him_, and please and honor _him_ in
all things: and this from a clear view of his infinite excellency and
worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped, and served by
all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul _loves_ God with
a supreme love, he therein acts like the blessed God himself, who most
justly loves himself in that manner. So when God’s interest and his are
become one, and he longs that God should be _glorified_, and rejoices to
think that he is unchangeably possessed of the highest glory and
blessedness, herein also he acts in conformity to God. In like manner,
when the soul is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and content with
the divine will, here it is also _conformed_ to God.
“I saw farther, that as this divine temper, by which the soul exalts
God, and treads self in the dust, is wrought in the soul by God’s
discovering his own glorious perfections _in the face of Jesus Christ_
to it by the special influences of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot but
have _regard to it_ as his own work; and as it is his image in his soul,
he cannot but take _delight_ in it. Then I saw again, that if God should
slight and reject his own _moral image_, he must needs _deny himself_;
which he cannot do. And thus I saw the _stability_ and _infallibility_
of this religion; and that those who are truly possessed of it, have the
most complete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in all
the benefits of Christ’s redemption, having their hearts conformed to
him; and that these, and these only, are qualified for the employments
and entertainments of God’s kingdom of glory; as none but these have any
relish for the business of heaven, which is to ascribe glory to God, and
not to themselves; and that God (though I would speak it with great
reverence of his name and perfection) cannot, without denying himself,
finally cast such away.
“The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire whether _this_ was _my_
religion; and here God was pleased to help me to the most easy
remembrance and critical review of what had passed in course, of a
religious nature, through several of the latter years of my life.
Although I could discover much corruption attending my best duties, many
selfish views and carnal ends, much spiritual pride and self-exaltation,
and innumerable other evils which compassed me about, yet God was
pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this question out of doubt,
by showing me that I had, from time to time, acted above the utmost
influence of mere self-love; that I had longed to please and glorify
him, as my highest happiness, &c. This review was, through grace,
attended with a present feeling of the same divine temper of mind. I
felt now pleased to think of the glory of God, and longed for heaven, as
a state wherein I might glorify him perfectly, rather than a place of
happiness for myself. This feeling of the love of God in my heart, which
I trust the Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was sufficient to give
me a full satisfaction, and make me long, as I had many times before
done, to be with Christ.
“As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought, and composure of
mind, almost continually for several weeks, under my great weakness; so
he enabled me, in some measure, to improve my time, as I hope, to
valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of important letters
to friends in remote places; and sometimes I wrote when I was
speechless, _i. e._ unable to maintain conversation with any body;
though perhaps I was able to speak a word or two so as to be heard.
“At this season also, while I was confined at Boston, I read with care
and attention some papers of old Mr. Shepard, lately come to light, and
designed for the press; and, as I was desired and greatly urged, made
some corrections where the sense was left dark for want of a word or
two. Beside this, I had many visitants, with whom, when I was able to
speak, I always conversed of the things of religion, and was peculiarly
assisted in distinguishing between the _true_ and _false_ religion of
the times. There is scarcely any subject which has been matter of
controversy of late, but I was at one time or other compelled to discuss
and show my opinion respecting it, and that frequently before numbers of
people. Especially, I discoursed repeatedly on the nature and necessity
of that _humiliation_, _self-emptiness_, or full conviction of a
person’s being utterly undone in himself, which is necessary in order to
a saving faith; and the extreme difficulty of being brought to this, and
the great danger there is of persons taking up with some self-righteous
appearances of it. The _danger_ of this I especially dwelt upon, being
persuaded that multitudes perish in this hidden way; and because so
little is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here; so that
persons being never effectually brought to _die in themselves_, are
never truly _united to Christ_, and so perish. I also discoursed much on
what I take to be the essence of true religion; endeavoring plainly to
describe that god-like temper and disposition of soul, and that holy
conversation and behavior, which may justly claim the honor of having
God for its original and patron. I have reason to hope God blessed my
way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both ministers and
people; so that my time was not wholly lost.”
He was visited while in Boston by many, who showed him uncommon respect,
and appeared highly pleased and entertained with his conversation.
Beside being honored with the company and respect of ministers of the
town, he was visited by several ministers from various parts of the
country. He took all opportunities to discourse on the peculiar nature
and distinguishing characteristics of true, spiritual, and vital
religion; and to bear his testimony against the various false
appearances of it, consisting in, or arising from impressions on the
_imagination_, sudden and supposed immediate _suggestions_ of truth not
contained in the Scripture, and that faith which consists _primarily_ in
a person’s believing that Christ died for him in particular, &c. What he
said was, for the most part, heard with uncommon attention and regard;
and his discourses and reasonings appeared manifestly to have great
weight and influence with many with whom he conversed, both ministers
and others.
The Commissioners in Boston, of the Society in London for propagating
the Gospel in New-England and parts adjacent, having received a legacy
of the late Rev. Dr. Daniel Williams, of London, for the support of two
missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, while he was in Boston, to
consult him about a mission to those Indians called the Six Nations,
particularly respecting the qualifications requisite in a missionary to
those Indians. They were so satisfied with his sentiments on this head,
and had such confidence in his faithfulness, his judgment and discretion
in things of this nature, that they desired him to undertake to find and
recommend two persons fit to be employed in this business; and very much
left the matter with him.
BRAINERD’S restoration from his extremely low state in Boston, so as to
go abroad again, and to travel, was very unexpected to him and his
friends. My daughter, who was with him, writes thus concerning him, in a
letter dated June 23:
“On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent fever, and extreme pain in
his head and breast, and at turns delirious. So he remained till
Saturday evening, when he seemed to be in the agonies of death; the
family was up with him till one or two o’clock, expecting that every
hour would be his last. On Sabbath day he was a little revived, his head
was better, but he was very full of pain, exceeding sore at his breast,
and had great difficulty in breathing. Yesterday he was better. Last
night he slept but little. This morning he was much worse. Dr. Pynchon
says, he has no hope of his life; nor does he think it likely that he
will ever come out of the chamber; though he says he _may_ be able to
come to Northampton.”
In another letter, dated June 29, she says:—“Mr. BRAINERD has not so
much pain, nor fever, since I last wrote, as before; yet he is extremely
weak and low, and very faint, expecting every day will be his last. He
says it is impossible for him to live, for he has hardly vigor enough to
draw his breath. I went this morning into town, and when I came home,
Mr. Bromfield said he never expected I should see him alive, for he lay
two hours, as they thought, dying; one could scarcely tell whether he
was alive or not; he was not able to speak for some time; but now is
much as he was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away in such a
turn. Mr. BRAINERD says, he never felt any thing so much like
_dissolution_ as that he felt to-day; and says, he never had any
conception of its being possible for any creature to be alive, and yet
so weak as he is from day to day. Dr. Pynchon says, he should not be
surprised if he should so recover as to live half a year; nor would it
surprise him if he should die in half a day. Since I began to write, he
is not so well, having had a faint turn again: yet he is patient and
resigned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary.”
He expressed himself to one of my neighbors, who at that time saw him in
Boston, that he was as certainly a dead man, as if he was shot through
the heart. But so it was ordered in divine Providence, that the strength
of nature held out, and he revived, to the astonishment of all who knew
his case.
After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest brother,
ISRAEL, a student at Yale College; who having heard of his extreme
illness, went from thence to Boston, in order to see him; if he might
find him alive, which he but little expected. BRAINERD greatly rejoiced
to see his brother, especially because he had desired an opportunity of
some religious conversation with him before he died. But this meeting
was attended with sorrow, as his brother brought to him the tidings of
his sister Spencer’s death, at Haddam; a sister, between whom and him
had long subsisted a peculiarly dear affection, and much intimacy in
spiritual things, and whose house he used to make his own when he went
to Haddam, his native place. But he had a confidence of her being gone
to heaven, and an expectation of soon meeting her there. His brother
continued with him till he left the town, and came with him from thence
to Northampton. Concerning the last Sabbath Brainerd spent in Boston, he
writes in his diary as follows:
_Lord’s day, July 19._—“I was just able to attend public worship, being
carried to the house of God in a chaise. Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the
forenoon: partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In this ordinance I
saw astonishing divine _wisdom_ displayed, such wisdom as clearly
required the tongues of angels and glorified saints to celebrate. It
seemed to me that I never should do any thing at adoring the infinite
wisdom of God, discovered in the contrivance of man’s redemption, until
I arrived at a world of perfection; yet I could not help striving ‘to
call upon my soul, and all within me, to bless the name of God.’ In the
afternoon, heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more of God in the _wisdom_
discovered in the plan of man’s redemption, than I saw of any other of
his perfections, through the whole day.”
The next day, having bid an affectionate farewell to his friends, he set
out in the cool of the afternoon, on his journey to Northampton,
attended by his brother and my daughter, who went with him to Boston;
and would have been accompanied out of the town by a number of
gentlemen, besides the respected person who gave him his company for
some miles on that occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and respect,
had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and show prevented it.
_July 25._—“I arrived here, at Northampton; having set out from Boston
on Monday, about 4 o’clock P. M. In this journey I usually rode about
sixteen miles a day. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on the
road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proceed any further; at
other times I was considerably better, and felt some freedom both of
body and mind.
_Lord’s day, July 26._—“This day I saw clearly that I should never be
happy; yea, that God himself could not make me happy, unless I could be
in a capacity to ‘please and glorify him for ever.’ Take away this, and
admit me in all the fine heavens that can be conceived of by men or
angels, and I should still be miserable for ever.”
Though he had so revived as to be able to travel thus far, yet he
manifested no expectation of recovery. He supposed, as his physician
did, that his being brought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the
breaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he had several such ill
turns before, only not to so high a degree, but, as he supposed, owing
to the same cause, viz. the breaking of ulcers; that he was brought
lower and lower every time; that it appeared to him, that in his last
sickness he was brought as low as he could be, and yet live; and that he
had not the least expectation of surviving the next return of this
breaking of ulcers; he still appeared perfectly calm in the prospect of
death.
On _Wednesday_ morning, the week after he came to Northampton, his
brother Israel left us for New-Haven, and he took leave of him, never
expecting to see him again in this world.
When BRAINERD came hither, he had so much strength as to be able, from
day to day, to ride out two or three miles, and sometimes to pray in the
family; but from this time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and
weaker. As long as he lived, he spoke much of that _future prosperity of
Zion_ which is so often foretold and promised in the Scriptures; it was
a theme upon which he delighted to dwell; and his mind seemed to be
carried forth with earnest concern about it, and intense desires that
religion might speedily and abundantly revive and flourish; yea, the
nearer death advanced, and the more the symptoms of its approach
increased, still the more did his mind seem to be taken up with this
subject. He told me, when near his end, that “he never, in all his life,
had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for the
flourishing of Christ’s kingdom on earth, as since he was brought so
exceeding low at Boston.” He seemed much to wonder that there appeared
no more of a disposition in ministers and people to _pray_ for the
flourishing of religion through the world; that so little a part of
their prayers was generally taken up about it, in their families and
elsewhere. Particularly, he several times expressed his wonder that
there appeared no more forwardness to comply with the proposal lately
made, in a Memorial from a number of ministers in Scotland, and sent
over into America, for united extraordinary prayer, amongst Christ’s
ministers and people, for the coming of Christ’s kingdom: and sent it as
his dying advice to his own congregation, that they should practise
agreeably to that proposal.
Though he was constantly exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a
continual care well to improve _time_, and fill it up with something
that might be profitable, and in some respect for the glory of God or
the good of men; either profitable conversation, or writing letters to
absent friends; or noting something in his diary; or looking over his
former writings, correcting them, and preparing them to be left in the
hands of others at his death; or giving some directions concerning the
future management of his people; or in secret devotions. He seemed never
to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing something for God, or in
his service. After he came hither, he wrote a _preface_ to a _diary_ of
Mr. SHEPARD, contained in the papers above mentioned, which has since
been published.
In his diary for _Lord’s day_, August 9, he speaks of longing desires
after death, through a sense of the excellency of a state of
_perfection_. In his diary for _Lord’s day_, August 16, he speaks of his
having so much refreshment of _soul_ in the house of God that it seemed
also to refresh his _body_. And this is not only noted in his diary, but
was very observable to others; it was apparent, not only that his mind
was exhilarated with inward consolation, but also that his animal
spirits and bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, as though
he had forgot his illness. But this was the last time that ever he
attended public worship on the Sabbath.
On _Tuesday_ morning that week, as I was absent on a journey, he prayed
with my family, but not without much difficulty, for want of bodily
strength; and this was the last family prayer that he ever made. He had
been wont, till now, frequently to ride out, two or three miles: but
this week, on Thursday, was the last time he ever did so.
_Lord’s day, Aug. 23._—“This morning I was considerably refreshed with
the thought, yea, the hope and expectation of the _enlargement of
Christ’s kingdom_; and I could not but hope that the time was at hand,
when Babylon the great would fall, and ‘rise no more.’ This led me to
some spiritual meditations, which were very refreshing to me. I was
unable to attend public worship either part of the day; but God was
pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in divine thoughts.
Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when I can go to God, yea, 'to God my
exceeding joy When he is such to my soul, O how unspeakably delightful
is this!
“In the week past I had divers turns of inward refreshing, though my
body was inexpressibly weak, followed continually with agues and fevers.
Sometimes my soul centered in God, as my only portion; and I felt that I
should be for ever unhappy, if He did not reign. I saw the sweetness and
happiness of being his subject, at his disposal. This made all my
difficulties quickly vanish.”
Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a room above stairs, but he
now grew so weak, that he was no longer able to go up stairs and down.
_Friday, August 28_, was the last time he ever went above stairs;
henceforward he betook himself to a lower room.
On _Wednesday, Sept. 2_, being the day of our public lecture, he seemed
to be refreshed with seeing the neighboring ministers who came hither to
the lecture, and expressed a great desire once more to go to the house
of God on that day; and accordingly rode to the meeting, and attended
divine service, while the Rev. Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. He
signified that he supposed it to be the last time he should ever attend
public worship; as it proved. Indeed it was the last time that he ever
went out of our gate.
On the Saturday evening next following, he was unexpectedly visited by
his brother, Mr. JOHN BRAINERD, who came to see him from New-Jersey. He
was much refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being
peculiarly dear to him; and he seemed to rejoice in a devout and solemn
manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable tidings which he brought
concerning the state of his dear congregation of Christian Indians. A
circumstance of this visit of which he was exceedingly glad, was, that
his brother brought him some of his _private writings_ from New-Jersey,
and particularly his _diary_, which he had kept for many years past.
_Lord’s day, Sept. 6._—“I began to read some of my private writings
which my brother brought me, and was considerably refreshed with what I
found in them.
_Sept. 7._—“I proceeded further in reading my old private writings, and
found that they had the same effect upon me as before. I could not but
rejoice and bless God for what passed long ago, which, without writing,
had been entirely lost.
“This evening, when I was in great distress of body, my soul longed that
_God should be glorified_. O that I could for ever live to God! The day,
I trust, is at hand, the perfect day. O the day of deliverance from all
sin!
_Lord’s day, Sept. 13._—“I was much refreshed and engaged in meditation
and writing, and found a heart to act for God. My spirits were
refreshed, and my soul delighted to do something for God.”
On the evening of that Lord’s day, his feet began to swell; and
thenceforward swelled more and more: a symptom of his dissolution coming
on. The next day, his brother John left him, being obliged to return to
New-Jersey on some business of great importance and necessity; intending
to return again with all possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet
once more in the land of the living.
BRAINERD having now, with much deliberation, considered the subject
referred to him by the commissioners of the Society for propagating the
Gospel in New-England and parts adjacent, wrote them about this time,
recommending two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, Mr. Elihu Spencer,
of East Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong, of Northampton, as suitable
missionaries to the Six Nations. The commissioners, on the receipt of
this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to accept of and employ
the persons whom he had recommended.
On _Wednesday, Sept. 16_, he wrote to some charitable gentlemen in
Boston in behalf of the Indian school, showing the need of another
schoolmaster, or some person to assist the schoolmaster in instructing
the Indian children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of his letter, had
a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness to give £200 (in bills of
the old tenor) for the support of another schoolmaster; and desired the
Rev. Mr. Pemberton, of New-York, (who was then at Boston, and was also
at their desire, present at the meeting,) as soon as possible to procure
a suitable person for that service; and also agreed, in accordance with
an intimation from BRAINERD, to allow £74 to defray some special charges
which were requisite to encourage the mission to the Six Nations.
BRAINERD spent himself much in writing those letters, being exceedingly
weak; but it seemed to be much to his satisfaction that he had been
enabled to do it, hoping that it was something done for God, and which
might be for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom and glory. In writing
the last of these letters, he was obliged to use the hand of another.
On Thursday of this week, (Sept. 17,) when he went out of his
lodging-room for the last time, he was again visited by his brother
ISRAEL, who continued with him till his death. On that evening he was
taken with something of a diarrhea, which he looked upon as another sign
of his approaching death; whereupon he expressed himself thus: “Oh, the
glorious time is now coming! I have longed to serve God perfectly: now
God will gratify those desires!” And from time to time, at the several
steps and new symptoms of the sensible approach of his dissolution, he
was so far from being sunk or depressed in spirits, that he seemed to be
_animated_ and made more cheerful, as being glad at the appearance of
death’s approach. He often used the epithet _glorious_, when speaking of
the day of his death, calling it that _glorious day_. And as he saw his
dissolution gradually approaching, he talked much about it; and with
perfect calmness spoke of a future state. He also settled all his
affairs, giving directions very particularly and minutely concerning
what he would have done in one respect and another after his decease.
And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be to
depart. He several times spoke of the different kinds of willingness to
die; and represented it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be willing to leave
the body only to get rid of pain; or to go to heaven only to get honor
and advancement there.
_Sept. 19._—“Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts
turned thus: ‘How infinitely sweet to love God, and be all for him!’
Upon which it was suggested to me, ‘You are not an angel, not lively and
active.’ To which my whole soul immediately replied, ‘I as sincerely
desire to love and glorify God as any angel in heaven.’ Upon which it
was suggested again, ‘But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.’ Hereupon
instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ’s _righteousness_, in
which I could not but exult and triumph; and I viewed the infinite
excellency of God, and my soul even broke with longings that God should
be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven, but instantly the thought
returned, ‘I do not go to heaven to get honor, but to give all possible
glory and praise.’ O how I longed that God should be glorified on
_earth_ also! O I was _made_ for eternity, if God might be glorified!
Bodily pains I cared not for; though I was then in extremity, I never
felt easier. I felt willing to glorify God in that state of bodily
distress as long as he pleased I should continue in it. The grave
appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in it; but O
that God might be glorified! this was the burden of all my cry. O I knew
that I should be active as an angel in heaven, and that I should be
stripped of my filthy garments! so that there was no objection. But, O
to love and praise God more, to please him for ever! this my soul panted
after, and even now pants for, while I write. Oh that God might be
glorified in the whole earth! ‘Lord let thy kingdom come.’ I longed for
a spirit of preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that they might
address the consciences of men with closeness and power. I saw that God
had the residue of the Spirit, and my soul longed that it should be
‘poured from on high.’ I could not but plead with God for my dear
congregation, that he would preserve it, and not suffer his great name
to lose its glory in that work; my soul still longing that God might be
glorified.”
The extraordinary frame he was in that evening could not be hid. “His
mouth spake out of the abundance of his heart,” expressing in a very
affecting manner much the same things as are written in his diary. Among
very many other extraordinary expressions which he then uttered, were
such as these: “My heaven is to please God, and glorify him, and to give
all to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory; that is the heaven I
long for; that is my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was,
ever since I suppose I had any true religion; and all those that are of
that religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to heaven to be
advanced, but to give honor to God. It is no matter where I shall be
stationed in heaven, whether I have a high or low seat there; but to
love, and please, and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if
they were worth any thing, I would give them all to God; but I have
nothing to give when all is done. It is impossible for any rational
creature to be happy without acting all _for God_; God himself could not
make him happy any other way. I long to be in heaven, praising and
glorifying God with the holy angels; all my desire is to glorify God. My
heart goes out to the burying place; it seems to me a desirable place:
but O to glorify God! that is it; that is above all. It is a great
comfort to me to think that I have done a little for God in the world;
Oh! it is but a very small matter, yet I have done a little, and I
lament that I have not done more for him. There is nothing in the world
worth living for, but doing good, and finishing God’s work, doing the
work that Christ did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any
satisfaction besides living to God, pleasing him, and doing his whole
will. My greatest joy and comfort has been to do something for promoting
the interest of religion and the souls of particular persons; and now,
in my illness, while I am full of pain and distress from day to day, all
the comfort I have is in being able to do some little service for God,
either by something I say, or by writing, or in some other way.”
He intermingled with these, and other like expressions, many pathetical
counsels to those who were about him, particularly to my children and
servants. He applied himself to some of my younger children at this
time; calling them to him, and speaking to them one by one; setting
before them, in a very plain manner, the nature and essence of true
piety, and its great importance and necessity; earnestly warning them
not to rest in any thing short of a true and thorough change of heart,
and a life devoted to God. He counselled them not to be slack in the
great business of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcing his
counsels with this, that his words were the words of a _dying man_. Said
he, “I shall die here, and here I shall be buried, and here you will see
my grave, and I wish you to remember what I have said to you. I am going
into eternity; and it is sweet for me to think of eternity; the
endlessness of it makes it sweet: but O what shall I say of the eternity
of the wicked! I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is too
dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember what I said to you while
I was alive; then think how the man who lies in that grave counselled
and warned you to prepare for death.”
His _body_ seemed to be marvellously strengthened, through the inward
vigor and refreshment of his mind; so that, although before he was so
weak that he could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his
most affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than an hour,
with scarce any intermission; and said of it when he had done, “it was
the last sermon that ever he should preach.” This extraordinary frame of
mind continued the next day, of which he speaks in his diary as follows:
_Lord’s day, Sept. 20._—“Was still in a sweet and comfortable frame, and
was again melted with desires that God might be glorified, and with
longings to love and live to him. Longed for the influences of the
divine Spirit to descend on _ministers_ in an especial manner. And O I
longed to be with God, to behold his glory, and to bow in his presence.”
It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this day and the
evening preceding, that his mind at this time was much impressed with a
sense of the importance of the work of the _ministry_, and the need of
the grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in this work; it
also appeared in what he expressed in conversation, particularly in his
discourse to his brother Israel, who was then a member of Yale College
at New-Haven, prosecuting his studies for the work of the ministry.[I]
He now, and from time to time, in this his dying state, recommended to
his brother a life of self-denial, of weanedness from the world and
devotedness to God, and an earnest endeavor to obtain much of the grace
of God’s Spirit, and God’s gracious influences on his heart;
representing the great need in which ministers stand of them, and the
unspeakable benefit of them, from his own experience. Among many other
expressions, he said thus: “When ministers feel these special gracious
influences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the
consciences of men, and as it were to handle them with hands; whereas,
without them, whatever reason and oratory we make use of, we do but make
use of stumps, instead of hands.”
Footnote I:
This brother was ingenious, serious, studious, and hopefully pious;
there appeared in him many qualities giving hope of his being a great
blessing in his day. But it pleased God, soon after the death of his
brother, to take him away also. He died that winter at New-Haven,
January 6, 1748, of a nervous fever, after about a fortnight’s
illness.
_Sept. 21._—“I began to correct a little volume of my private writings.
God, I believe, remarkably helped me in it; my strength was surprisingly
lengthened out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my soul
refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. O how good, how sweet it
is to labor for God!
_Sept. 22._—“Was again employed in reading and correcting, and had the
same success as the day before. I was exceeding weak, but it seemed to
refresh my soul thus to spend time.
_Sept. 23._—“I finished my corrections of the little piece before
mentioned, and felt uncommonly peaceful; it seemed as if I had now done
all my work in this world, and stood ready for my call to a better. As
long as I see any thing to be done for God, life is worth having; but O
how vain and unworthy it is to live for any lower end! This day I
indited a letter, I think, of great importance, to the Rev. Mr. Byram,
in New-Jersey. Oh that God would bless and succeed that letter, which
was written for the benefit of _his_ church![J] Oh that God would
‘purify the sons of Levi,’ that his glory may be advanced! This night I
endured a dreadful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an hour or
minute. But, blessed be God, I have enjoyed considerable sweetness in
divine things this week, both by night and day.
Footnote J:
It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the examination
and licensing of candidates for the work of the ministry.
_Sept. 24._—“My strength began to fail exceedingly; which looked,
further, as if I had done all my work: however, I had strength to fold
and superscribe my letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much
disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, without any proper
rest. In the evening I got up, having lain down in some of my clothes;
but was in the greatest distress, having an uncommon kind of hiccough;
which either strangled me, or threw me into a straining to vomit,
accompanied with other griping pains. O the distress of this evening! I
had little expectation of living the night through, nor indeed had any
about me; and I longed for the finishing moment! I was obliged to repair
to bed by six o’clock; and through mercy enjoyed some rest; but was
grievously distressed at turns with the hiccough. My soul breathed after
God, ‘When shall I come to God, even to God, my exceeding joy?’ Oh for
his blessed likeness!
_Sept. 25._—“I was unspeakably weak, and little better than speechless
all the day; however, I was able to write a little, and some part of the
day was comfortable. O it refreshed my soul to think of former things,
of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to him! O, blessed
God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope. Hasten the day, O Lord, if it
be thy blessed will. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.[K]
Footnote K:
This was the last time that ever he wrote in his diary with his own
hand; though it is continued a little farther, in a broken manner;
written by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth, in this his
weak and dying state.
_Sept. 26._—“I felt the sweetness of divine things this forenoon, and
had the consolation of a consciousness that I was doing something for
God.
_Lord’s day, Sept. 27._—“This was a very comfortable day to my soul; I
think, I awoke with God. I was enabled to lift up my soul to God, early
this morning; and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedom to
lift up my heart to God for myself and others. Afterward, was pleased
with the thoughts of speedily entering into the unseen world.”
He felt this morning an unusual appetite for food, with which his mind
seemed to be exhilarated, looking on it as a sign of the very near
approach of death. At this time he also said, “I was _born_ on a
_Sabbath-day_, and I have reason to think I was _new-born_ on a
_Sabbath-day_; and I hope I shall _die_ on this _Sabbath-day_. I shall
look upon it as a favor, if it may be the will of God that it should be
so: I long for the time. O, why is his chariot so long in coming? why
tarry the wheels of his chariot? I am very willing to part with all: I
am willing to part with my dear brother John, and never to see him
again, to go to be for ever with the Lord.[L] O, when I go there, how
will God’s dear church on earth be upon my mind!”
Footnote L:
He had, before this, expressed a desire, if it might be the will of
God, to live till his brother returned from New-Jersey: who, when he
went away, intended, if possible, to perform his journey, and return
in a fortnight; hoping once more to meet his brother in the land of
the living. The fortnight was now nearly expired.
Afterward, the same morning, being asked how he did, he answered, “I am
almost in eternity; I long to be there. My work is done; I have done
with all my friends: all the world is nothing to me. I long to be in
heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels. _All my desire
is to glorify God._”
[Illustration: President Edwards' House, Northampton, Massachusetts.]
During the whole of these last two weeks of his life, he seemed to
continue in this frame of heart, as having finished his work, and done
with all things here below. He had now nothing to do but to die, and to
abide in an earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, when his
soul should take its flight to a state of perfect holiness, in which he
should be found perfectly glorifying and enjoying God. He said, “the
consideration of the day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long
time been peculiarly sweet to him.” From time to time he spake of his
being willing to leave the body and the world immediately—that day, that
night, that moment—if it was the will of God. He also was much engaged
in expressing his longings that the Church of Christ on earth might
flourish, and Christ’s kingdom here be advanced, notwithstanding he was
about to leave the earth, and should not with his eyes behold the
desirable event, nor be instrumental in promoting it. He said to me, one
morning, as I came into his room, “My thoughts have been employed on the
old dear theme, the prosperity of God’s church on earth. As I waked out
of sleep, I was led to cry for the pouring out of God’s Spirit, and the
advancement of Christ’s kingdom, for which the Redeemer did and suffered
so much. It is that especially which makes me long for it.” He expressed
much hope that a glorious advancement of Christ’s kingdom was near at
hand.
He once told me, that “he had formerly longed for the outpouring of the
Spirit of God, and the glorious times of the church, and hoped they were
coming; and that he should have been willing to live to promote religion
at that time if that had been the will of God: but,” says he, “I am
willing it should be as it is; I would not have the choice to make for
myself, for ten thousand worlds.” He expressed on his death-bed a full
persuasion that he should in heaven see the prosperity of the church on
earth, and should rejoice with Christ therein; and the consideration of
it seemed to be highly pleasing and satisfying to his mind.
He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the work of gospel
ministers, and expressed his longings that they might be _filled with
the Spirit of God_. He manifested much desire to see some of the
neighboring ministers with whom he had some acquaintance, and of whose
sincere friendship he was confident, that he might converse freely with
them on that subject before he died. And it so happened, that he had
opportunity with some of them according to his desire.
Another thing that lay much on his heart from time to time, in these
near approaches of death, was the spiritual prosperity of his own
congregation of Christian Indians in New-Jersey; when he spake of them,
it was with peculiar tenderness, so that his speech would be presently
interrupted and drowned with tears.
He also expressed much satisfaction in the disposal of Providence with
regard to the circumstances of his _death_; particularly that God had
before his death given him an opportunity in Boston, with so many
considerable persons, ministers and others, to give in his testimony for
God against false religion, and many mistakes that lead to it and
promote it. He was much pleased that he had had an opportunity there to
lay before pious and charitable gentlemen the state of the Indians, and
their necessities, to so good effect; and that God had since enabled him
to write to them further concerning these affairs; and to write other
letters of importance, which he hoped might be of good influence with
regard to the state of religion among the Indians, and elsewhere, after
his death. He expressed great thankfulness to God for his mercy in these
things. He also mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful
circumstance of his death, that he should die _here_. Speaking of these
things, he said, “God had granted him all his desire;” and signified
that now he could joyfully leave the world.
_Sept. 28._—“I was able to read and make some few corrections in my
private writings, but found I could not write as I had done; I found
myself sensibly declined in all respects. It has been only from a little
while before noon till about one or two o’clock, that I have been able
to do any thing for some time past; yet it refreshed my heart that I
could do any thing, either public or private, that I hoped was for God.”
This evening he was supposed to be dying, both by himself and by those
about him. He seemed glad at the appearance of the near approach of
death. He was almost speechless, but his lips appeared to move, and one
that sat very near him heard him utter such expressions as these: “Come,
Lord Jesus, come quickly. O why is his chariot so long in coming?” After
he revived, he blamed himself for having been too eager to be gone. And
in expressing what was the frame of his mind at that time, he said he
then found an inexpressibly sweet love to those whom he looked upon as
belonging to Christ, beyond almost all that ever he felt before; so that
it seemed, to use his own words, “like a little piece of heaven to have
one of them near him.” And being asked whether he heard the prayer that
was, at his desire, made with him, he said, “Yes, he heard every word,
and had an uncommon sense of the things that were uttered in that
prayer, and that every word reached his heart.”
On the evening of _Tuesday Sept. 29_, as he lay on his bed, he seemed to
be in an extraordinary frame; his mind greatly engaged in sweet
meditations concerning the prosperity of Zion. There being present here,
at that time, two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, who were
candidates for the ministry, he desired us all to unite in singing a
psalm on that subject, even Zion’s prosperity. And on his desire we sung
a part of the 102d psalm. This seemed much to refresh and revive him,
and gave him new strength; so that though before, he could scarcely
speak at all, now he proceeded, with some freedom of speech, to give his
dying counsels to these young gentlemen relative to their preparation
for the great work of the ministry; and in particular, earnestly
recommended to them frequent secret fasting and prayer; and enforced his
counsel with regard to this, from his own experience of the great
comfort and benefit of it; “which,” said he, “I should not mention, were
it not that I am a dying person.” After he had finished his counsel, he
made a prayer in the audience of us all; wherein, besides praying for
this family, for his brethren, and those candidates for the ministry,
and for his own congregation, he earnestly prayed for the reviving and
flourishing of religion in the world.—Till now, he had every day sat up
part of the day; but after this he never rose from his bed.
_Sept. 30._—“I was obliged to keep my bed the whole day, through
weakness. However, redeemed a little time, and, with the help of my
brother, read and corrected about a dozen pages in my manuscript, giving
an account of my conversion.
_Oct. 1._—“I endeavored again to do something by way of writing, but
soon found my powers of body and mind utterly fail. Felt not so sweetly
as when I was able to do something which I hoped would do some good. In
the evening, was discomposed and wholly delirious; but it was not long
before God was pleased to give me some sleep, and fully compose my
mind.[M] O blessed be God for his great goodness to me, since I was so
low at Mr. Bloomfield’s on _Thursday, June 18_. He has, except those few
minutes, given me the clear exercise of my reason, and enabled me to
labor much for him in things both of a public and private nature, and
perhaps to do more good than I should have done if I had been well;
besides the comfortable influences of his blessed Spirit, with which he
has been pleased to refresh my soul. May his name have all the glory for
ever and ever. Amen.
Footnote M:
From this time forward he had the free use of his reason till the day
before his death; except that at some times he appeared a little lost
for a moment when first waking out of sleep.
_Oct. 2._—“My soul was this day, at turns, sweetly set on God: I longed
to be _with him_, that I might _behold his glory_. I felt sweetly
disposed to commit all to him, even my dearest friends, my dearest
flock, my absent brother, and all my concerns for time and eternity. O
that _his kingdom_ might come in the world; that they might all love and
glorify him for what he is in himself; and that the blessed Redeemer
might ‘see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied!’ O come, Lord
Jesus, come quickly! Amen.”
Here ends his diary. These are the _last words_ which are written in it,
either by his own hand, or by any other from his mouth.
The next evening we very much expected his brother John from New-Jersey;
it being about a week after the time that he proposed for his return,
when he went away. Though our expectations were still disappointed, yet
BRAINERD seemed to continued unmoved, in the same calm and peaceful
frame which he had before manifested; as having resigned all to God, and
having done with his friends, and with all things here below.
On the morning of the next day, being _Lord’s day_, Oct. 4, as my
daughter Jerusha, who chiefly attended him, came into the room, he
looked on her very pleasantly, and said, “Dear Jerusha, are you willing
to part with me?”—“I am quite willing to part with you: I am willing to
part with all my friends: I am willing to part with my dear brother
John, although I love him the best of any creature living: I have
committed him and all my friends to God, and can leave them with God.
Though, if I thought I should not see you, and be happy with you in
another world, I could not bear to part with you. But we shall spend an
happy eternity together!”[N] In the evening, as one came into the room
with a Bible in her hand, he expressed himself thus: “O that dear
book—that lovely book! I shall soon see it opened! The mysteries that
are in it, and the mysteries of God’s providence, will be all unfolded!”
Footnote N:
In about four months, it pleased a holy and sovereign God to take away
this my dear child by death, on the 14th of February, after a short
illness of five days, in the eighteenth year of her age. She was a
person of much the same spirit with BRAINERD. She had constantly taken
care of, and attended him in his sickness, for nineteen weeks before
his death; devoting herself to him with great delight, because she
looked on him as an eminent servant of Jesus Christ. In this time he
had much conversation with her on the things of religion; and in his
dying state, often expressed to us, her parents, his great
satisfaction concerning her true piety, and his confidence that he
should meet her in heaven. She had manifested a heart uncommonly
devoted to God; and said on her death-bed, that “she had seen no time
for several years, when she desired to live one minute longer, for the
sake of any other good in life, but doing good, living to God, and
doing what might be for his glory.”
On _Tuesday_, Oct. 6, he lay for a considerable time as if he were
dying; at which time he was heard to utter, in broken whispers, such
expressions as these: “He will come, he will not tarry. I shall soon be
in glory. I shall soon glorify God with the angels.”—But after some time
he revived.
The next day, _Wednesday_, Oct. 7, his brother John arrived from
New-Jersey; where he had been detained much longer than he intended, by
a mortal sickness prevailing among the christian Indians, and by some
other circumstances that made his stay with them necessary. BRAINERD was
affected and refreshed with seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied
with the reasons of his delay; seeing the interest of religion and the
souls of his people required it.
The next day, _Thursday_, Oct. 8, he was in great distress and agonies
of body; and for the greater part of the day was much disordered as to
the exercise of his reason. In the evening he was composed, and had the
use of his reason; but the pain of his body continued and increased. He
told me that it was impossible for any one to conceive of the distress
he felt in his breast. He manifested much concern lest he should
dishonor God by impatience under his extreme agony; which was such, that
he said the thought of enduring it one moment longer was almost
insupportable. He desired that others would be much in lifting up their
hearts continually to God for him, that God would support him, and give
him patience. He signified that he expected to die that night; but
seemed to fear a longer delay; and the disposition of his mind with
regard to death, appeared still the same that it had been all along. And
notwithstanding his bodily agonies, yet the interest of Zion lay still
with great weight on his mind. On that evening he had considerable
discourse with the Rev. Mr. Billing, one of the neighboring ministers,
concerning the great importance of the work of the ministry. Afterward,
late in the night, he had much very proper and profitable discourse with
his brother John, concerning his congregation in New-Jersey, and the
interest of religion among the Indians. In the latter part of the night
his bodily distress seemed to rise to a greater height than ever. Toward
day his eyes became fixed; and he continued lying immovable till about
six o’clock on Friday, Oct. 9, 1747, when his soul, as we may well
conclude, was received by his dear Lord and Master into that state of
perfection of holiness, and fruition of God, for which he had so often
and so ardently longed; and was welcomed by the glorious assembly in the
upper world, as one peculiarly fitted to join them in their blessed
employ and enjoyment.
Much respect was shown to his memory at his _funeral_; which was on the
Monday following, after a sermon preached on that solemn occasion. His
funeral was attended by eight of the neighboring ministers, and a great
concourse of people.