_After his return from his last journey to Susquahannah,
until his_ death.
[HITHERTO Mr. Brainerd had kept a constant _diary_, giving an account
of what passed from day to day: but henceforward his diary is much
interrupted by his illness; under which he was often brought so low, as
not to be able to ♦recollect in the evening, what had passed in the day,
and set down an orderly account of it in writing. However he took some
notice of the most material things concerning himself, ’till within a
few days of his death.]
♦ “recolect” replaced with “recollect”
*Lord’s-day, September 21, 1746. I was so weak I could not preach, nor
ride over to my people in the forenoon. In the afternoon I rode out;
sat in my chair, and discoursed to my people from Romans xiv. 7, 8.
I was ♦strengthened 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.
I was able to sleep little, through weariness and pain. Oh, how blessed
should I be, if the little I do, were all done with right views!
♦ “strenghened” replaced with “strengthened”
Saturday, September 27. I spent this as the week past, under a great
degree of bodily weakness, exercised with a violent cough, and a
considerable fever; had no appetite to any kind of food; and frequently
brought up what I ate, as soon as it was down: 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
amongst the Indians¹. I was sometimes scarce able to walk, and never
able to sit up the whole day. Yet I was calm and composed, and but
little exercised with melancholy, as in former seasons. It 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 would live or die. I could with great composure look _death_ in
the face, and frequently with sensible joy. Oh, how blessed it is,
to be _habitually prepared_ for death! The Lord grant, that I may be
_actually ready also_!
¹ _This was the |fourth| house he built for his residence
among the Indians._
Lord’s day, September 28. I rode to my people; and, though under much
weakness, discoursed about half an hour; at which season divine power
seemed to attend the word; but being extreme 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 towards morning, my
fever went off with a violent sweat. I have often been feverish after
preaching: but this was the most 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.
Tuesday, September 30. Yesterday and to-day I was scarce able to sit
up half the day. But ♦I was in a composed frame remarkably free from
dejection and melancholy; as God has been pleased to deliver me from
these unhappy glooms, in the general course of my present weakness, and
also from a peevish spirit. Oh that I may always be able to say, “Lord,
not my will, but thine be done!”
♦ “I” replaced with “I was” and 2nd “was” deleted per Errata
Saturday, October 4. I spent the former part of this week under a
great degree of 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, and took some care daily of persons at work upon my house. On
Friday afternoon I found myself wonderfully revived and strengthened;
and having some time before given notice to my people, and those at
the Forks of Delaware in particular, that I designed, to administer
the sacrament of the Lord’s supper upon the first sabbath in October:
on Friday afternoon I preached preparatory to the sacrament, from
2 Corinthians xiii. 5. 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; which
gave me such speedy relief, as I could not well have lived without.
I spent some time on Friday night in conversing with my people as I
lay upon my bed; and found my soul refreshed. This being Saturday,
I discoursed particularly with divers of the communicants; and this
afternoon preached from Zechariah xii. 10. There seemed to be a tender
melting, and hearty mourning for sin in the congregation. My soul
was in a comfortable frame, and I was myself, as well as most of the
congregation, much affected with the humble confession, and apparent
broken-heartedness of a _backslider_; and could not but rejoice, that
God had given him such a sense of his sin and unworthiness. I was
extremely tired in the evening; but lay on my bed, and discoursed to
my people.
*Lord’s-day, October 5. I was still very weak; and in the morning
afraid I should not be able to go through the work of the day. I
discoursed before the administration of the sacrament from John i. 29.
“Behold the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world.”――The
divine presence attended this discourse; and the assembly was
considerably melted. After sermon I baptized two persons, and then
administered the Lord’s supper to near forty communicants of the
Indians, besides divers dear Christians of the white people. It was
a season of divine power and grace; and numbers rejoiced in God. Oh,
the sweet union and harmony then appearing among the religious people!
My soul was refreshed, and my friends, of the white people, with me.
After the sacrament I could scarcely get home; but was supported by my
friends, and laid on my bed; where I lay in pain till the evening; and
then was able to sit up and discourse with my friends. Oh, 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.
*Saturday, October 11. Towards night I was seized with an ague, which
was followed with a hard fever, and much pain: I was treated with great
kindness and was ashamed to see so much concern about so unworthy a
creature. I 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 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 unable to
perform my work. Oh how precious is time! And how guilty it makes me
feel, when I think I have trifled away and misemployed it, or neglected
to fill up each part of it with duty, to the utmost of my ability!
October 19. I was willing either to die or live; but found it hard to
think 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!
Friday, October 24. I spent the day in overseeing and directing my
people about mending their fence, and securing their wheat. I was
somewhat refreshed in the evening, having been able to do something
valuable in the day time. Oh, how it pains me, to see time pass away,
when I can do nothing to any purpose!
Saturday, October 25. I visited some of my people: spent some time
in writing, and felt much better in body than usual: when it was near
night I felt so well, that I had thoughts of expounding: but in the
evening was much disordered again, and spent the night in coughing, and
spitting of blood.
Lord’s-day, October 26. In the morning I was exceeding weak, and spent
the day till near night, in pain to see my poor people wandering as
_sheep not having a shepherd_. But towards night finding myself a
little better, I called them together to my house and sat down, and
read and expounded Matthew v. 1‒16. This discourse, though delivered
in much weakness, was attended with power; 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_. As many were deeply affected with a sense of
their deficiency, in regard of spiritual conversation, and a spirit
of concern and watchfulness seemed to be excited in them; so there
was one that had fallen into drunkenness, sometime before, who was now
deeply convinced of his sin, and discovered a great degree of 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.
Monday, October 27. I spent the day in directing the Indians, about
mending the fence round their wheat: and was able to walk with them,
and contrive their business all the forenoon. In the afternoon I
was visited by two dear friends, and spent some time in conversation
with them. Towards night I was able to walk out, and take care of the
Indians again.
October 28. I rode to Prince-Town, 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 I was visited by Mr.
Treat, Mr. Beaty, and his wife, and another friend: my spirits were
refreshed to see them: but I was surprized, and even ashamed, that they
had taken so much pains as to ride thirty or forty miles to see me.
Saturday, November 1. I took leave of my friends and returned home.
Lord’s-day, November 2. I was unable to preach and scarcely able to sit
up the whole day. I was almost sunk, to see my poor people destitute of
the means of grace; and especially considering they could not read, and
so were under great disadvantages for spending the sabbath comfortably.
Oh, methought, I could be contented to be sick, if my poor flock had
a faithful pastor to feed them. A view of their want of this was more
afflictive to me, than all my bodily illness.
Monday, November 3. Being now in so low a state, that I was utterly
uncapable 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, I accordingly took leave of my congregation this
day.――Before I left my people, I visited them all in their respective
houses, and discoursed to each, as I thought most suitable for their
circumstances, and found great freedom in so doing: I scarce left one
house but some were in tears, not only affected with my being about
to leave them, but with the solemn addresses I made; for I was helped
to be fervent in spirit. 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 rode about two miles, to the house where I lived in the
summer past, and there lodged.
Tuesday, November 4. I rode to Woodbridge, and lodged with Mr. Pierson.
Wednesday, November 5. I rode to Elisabeth-Town, intending as soon as
possible to prosecute my journey. But I was in an hour or two 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.
I was enabled to maintain a calm, composed, and patient spirit,
as I had from the beginning of my weakness. After I had been in
Elisabeth-Town 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 recount the mercies of God, in such a manner as
greatly affected me, and filled me with thankfulness to God; especially
for his work of grace among the Indians, and the enlargement of his
kingdom. “Lord, glorify thyself,” was the cry of my soul. Oh that all
people might love and praise the blessed God!
After this comfortable season, I frequently enjoyed enlargement of soul
in prayer for my dear congregation, very often for every family, and
every person in particular; and it was a great comfort to me, that I
could pray heartily to God for those whom I was not allowed to see.
In the latter end of December, I grew still weaker, and continued to do
so, till the latter end of January 1746‒7. And having a violent cough,
a considerable fever, and no appetite for any manner of food, I was
reduced to so low a state, that my friends generally despaired of my
life; and for some time together, thought I could scarce live a day to
an end.
On Lord’s-day, February 1. “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 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. And from this time,
I began gradually to amend. And as I recovered some strength, vigour,
and spirit, I found at times some life in the exercises of devotion,
and longings after spirituality and a life of usefulness.
On Tuesday, February 24. I was able to ride as far as Newark, (having
been confined within Elisabeth-Town almost four months,) and the next
day returned to Elisabeth-Town. My spirits were somewhat refreshed with
the ride, though my body was weary.
On Saturday, February 28. I was visited by an Indian of my own
congregation, who brought me letters, and good news of the behaviour
of my people in general. This refreshed my soul, I could not but retire
and bless God for his goodness.
Wednesday, March 11, being kept in Elisabeth-Town ♦as a day of fasting
and prayer, I was able to attend public worship, which was the first
time since December 21. Oh, how much distress did God carry me through
in this space of time! But having obtained help from him, I yet live:
Oh that I could live to his glory!
♦ “at” replaced with “as”
Thursday, March 18. I rode to my people: and on Friday morning walked
about among them and inquired into their state and concerns; and
found an additional weight on my spirits upon hearing some things
disagreeable. I endeavoured to go to God with my distresses: 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 a considerable deal of affection among
them; I doubt not, that which was more than merely natural.
[This was the _last interview_ that he ever had with his people. About
eleven o’clock the same day, he left them: and the next day came to
Elisabeth-Town.]
Saturday, March 28. I was taken this morning with a violent griping.
These pains were extreme and constant, for several hours: so that it
seemed impossible for me, without a miracle, to live twenty-four hours.
I lay confined to my bed, the whole day: but it pleased God to bless
means for the abatement of my distress. I was exceedingly weakened
by this pain, and continued so for several days following. In this
distressed case, _death_ appeared agreeable to me: as an entrance into
a place “where the weary are at rest;” and, I had some relish of the
entertainments of the heavenly state; so that by these I was allured
and drawn, as well as driven by the fatigues of life. Oh, how happy it
is, to be drawn by desires of a state of perfect holiness!
Saturday, April 4. I was uneasy, by reason of the misemployment of
time: and yet knew not what to do: I longed to spend time in fasting
and prayer; but alas, I had not bodily strength! Oh, how blessed a
thing is it, to enjoy peace of conscience! How dreadful is a want of
inward peace! 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 I saw so excellent! I was ready to despair of ever
being holy; 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_. The Lord’s supper being this day administered, in the
season of communion, I enjoyed warmth of affection, and felt a tender
_love to the brethren_; and, to the glorious Redeemer, the _first-born_
among them. I endeavoured 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 favours for
my friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.
Friday, April 17. In the evening, God helped me to “draw near to the
throne of grace,” and gave me a sense of his favour, which gave me
inexpressible support and encouragement; I 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 the divine goodness.
Tuesday, April 21. I set out on my journey for New-England; I travelled
to New-York, and there lodged.
[This proved his final departure from New-Jersey.――He travelled slowly,
and arrived among his friends at East-Haddam, about the beginning of
May.]
Lord’s-day, May 10. (At Had-Lime) I could not but feel gratitude to
God, that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on
the great doctrines of _regeneration, a 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 has helped me to
see, 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 God-like tempers, wherein the
soul acts in a kind of concert with God, and would be and do every
thing that is pleasing to God; this, I saw, would stand by the soul
in a dying hour; for God must _deny himself_, if he cast away _his own
image_, even the soul that is one in desires with himself.
Lord’s-day, May 17. Though I felt much dulness this week; yet I had
some glimpses of the excellency of divine things; and especially one
morning, the beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was
so discovered to me, that I longed earnestly to be in that world where
holiness dwells in perfection, that I might please God, live entirely
to him, and glorify him to the utmost stretch of my capacities.
*Lord’s-day. May 24. (At Long-Meadow in Springfield) I 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 want of holiness_, than most who are called
_Christians_ imagine.
[On Thursday, May 28. He came from Long-Meadow to Northampton,
appearing vastly better than 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; but yet he was undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed,
incurable consumption.
*I had much opportunity before this, of particular information
concerning him, but now I had opportunity for a more full acquaintance
with him. I found him remarkably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining
in his conversation; yet solid, savoury, spiritual, and very profitable;
appearing meek, modest, and humble, far from any stiffness, moroseness,
superstitious demureness, or affected singularity in speech or
behaviour. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his conversation, but
had the comfort of hearing him pray in the family, from time to time.
His manner of praying was becoming a worm of the dust, and a disciple
of Christ addressing an infinitely great and holy God, and Father
of mercies; not with florid expressions, or a studied eloquence; not
with any intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness; 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, free 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_, deeply impressed with a great and solemn sense
of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, of God’s infinite
greatness, excellency, and sufficiency, rather than merely from a
warm and fruitful brain. And I know not, that ever I 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.”]
[This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness;
who plainly told him there were great evidences of his being in a
confirmed _consumption_, and that he could give him no encouragement,
that he should ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the least
discomposure in him, nor to make any alteration as to the freedom or
pleasantness of his conversation.]
*Lord’s-day, June 7. My soul was so drawn forth, this day, by what I
heard of the “exceeding preciousness of the grace of God’s Spirit,”
that it almost overcame my body: I saw that true grace is exceeding
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.
In the preceeding week, I enjoyed some comfortable seasons of
meditation. One morning the cause of God appeared exceeding precious to
me: I saw also, that God has an infinitely greater 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.”
[He was advised by physicians still to continue riding as what would
tend to prolong his life. He was at a loss for some time which way to
bend his course; but finally determined to ride to Boston; we having
concluded that one of this family should go with him and be helpful to
him in his low state.]
Tuesday, June 9. I set out on a journey from Northampton to Boston.
Having now continued to ride for some considerable time, I felt myself
much better, and I found that in proportion to the prospect I had of
being restored to a state of usefulness, I desired the continuance of
life: but death appeared inconceivably more desirable to me, than a
useless life; yet blessed be God, I found my heart fully resigned to
this greatest of afflictions, if God saw fit thus to deal with me.
Friday, ♦June 12. I arrived in Boston this day, somewhat fatigued
with my journey. There is no rest but in God; fatigues of body, and
anxieties of mind, attend us, both in town and country.
♦ “July” replaced with “June”
On Thursday, June 18. I was taken exceeding ill, and brought to the
gates of death, by the breaking of some small ulcers in my lungs, as
my physician supposed. In this weak state I continued several weeks,
and was frequently so low, as to be utterly speechless; and even after
I had so far revived as 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 could say _Yes_ or _No_, yet I could not speak
one sentence, without making stops for breath; and divers times in this
season, my friends gathered round my bed to see me breathe my last.
How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the
exercise of reason, I scarcely know; but the third day, and constantly
afterwards, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as much serenity
of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps I ever did in my life.
And I think my mind never penetrated with so much ease and freedom into
divine things, and I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth
of many important doctrines of the gospel as now.
As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought almost continually,
for several weeks together; so he enabled me in some measure, to
employ my time to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of
important _letters_, to friends in remote places; and sometimes I wrote
I was speechless, _i. e._ unable to maintain conversation with any
body.――*Besides 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 _true_ and _false_ religion. And
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; because so little
is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here: so that persons
being never effectually brought to die to themselves, are never truly
united to Christ. I also discoursed much on what I take to be the
essence of true religion, that God-like temper and disposition of soul,
and that holy conversation and behaviour, that may justly claim the
honour of having God for its original pattern. And I have reason to
hope God blessed my discoursing to some, both ministers and people; so
that my time was not wholly lost.
[Also the honourable Commissioners in Boston, of the incorporated
society in London for ♦propagating the gospel in New-England, and parts
adjacent, having a legacy of the late Dr. Daniel Williams of London,
for the support of _two missionaries_ to the Heathen, were pleased,
while he was at Boston, to consult him about a mission to those Indians
called the _Six Nations_; and were so satisfied with his sentiments on
this head, and had that confidence in his faithfulness, and judgment,
that they desired him to recommend a couple of persons fit to be
employed in this business.
♦ “propogating” replaced with “propagating”
Mr. Brainerd’s restoration from his extreme 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 of 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
every hour would be his last. On sabbath day he was a little revived,
his head was better, but very full of pain, and exceeding sore at
his breast, much put to it for breath. Yesterday he was better upon
all accounts. Last night he slept but little. This morning he is much
worse.――――Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hopes of his life; nor does he
think it likely he will ever come out of his chamber.”
His physician, the honourable Joseph Pynchon, Esq. when he visited him
in Boston, attributed his sinking so suddenly into a state so nigh unto
death, to the breaking of ulcers, that had been long gathering in his
lungs, and there discharging and diffusing their purulent matter; which,
while nature was labouring and struggling to throw off, (that could
be done no otherwise, than by a gradual straining of it through the
small vessels of those vital parts,) this occasioned an high fever and
violent coughing, and threw the whole frame of nature into the utmost
disorder; but supposed if the state of nature held till the lungs had
gradually cleared themselves of this putrid matter, he might revive,
and continue better, till new ulcers gathered and broke; but then he
would surely sink again; and that there was no hope of his recovery;
but (as he expressed himself to one of my neighbours) he was as
certainly a dead man, as if he was shot through the heart.
But so it was ordered by divine Providence, that the strength of nature
held out through this great conflict, and then he revived, to the
astonishment of all that knew his case.
After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest brother Mr.
Israel Brainerd, a student at Yale-college; who having heard of his
extreme illness, came to Boston to see him.
This visit was attended with a mixture of joy and sorrow to Mr.
Brainerd. He 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 peculiar
dear affection, and much intimacy in spiritual matters. He had heard
nothing of her sickness. But he had these comforts together with the
tidings, 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 Mr. Brainerd spent at 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. I heard Dr. Sewall preach
in the forenoon; partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In the
sacrament, I saw astonishing _wisdom_ displayed; such wisdom as
required the tongues of angels and glorified saints to celebrate.
It seemed to me 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.”
[The next day he set out in the cool of the afternoon, for Northampton,
attended by his brother, and my daughter that went with him to
Boston; and would have been accompanied out of the town by a number of
gentlemen, had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and shew prevented
it.]
Saturday, July 25. I arrived at Northampton, having set out from
Boston on Monday. In this journey, I rode about sixteen miles a day,
one day with another. I was sometimes extremely tired, 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 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 into all the fine
_heavens_ that can be conceived by men or angels, and I should still be
_miserable_ for ever.
Though he had revived, so 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 had several
such ill turns before, only not to so high a degree, but as he supposed
owing to the same cause; and that he was brought lower and lower every
time; and it appeared to him, that in his last sickness (in Boston)
he was brought as low as possible, and yet alive; and that he had not
the least expectation of surviving the next return of this breaking of
ulcers; but still appeared perfectly calm.
On Wednesday morning, the week after he came to Northampton, he took
leave of his brother Israel, never expecting to see him again in this
world.
When Mr. Brainerd came hither, he had so much strength as to be able,
from day to day, to ride out two or three miles, and to return; and
sometimes to pray in the family; but from this time he sensibly decayed,
and became weaker and weaker.
*While he was here, his conversation from first to last was much on
the same subjects as it had been in Boston. He was much in speaking
of the nature of _true religion_, as distinguished from its various
_counterfeits_; expressing his great concern, that the latter did
so much prevail in so many places. He often manifested his great
abhorrence of all such _doctrines_ and _principles_, as in any
wise savoured of, and had any (though but a remote) tendency to
Antinomianism; of all such notions as seemed to diminish the necessity
of holiness of life, or to abate men’s regard to the commands of God,
and a strict, diligent, and universal practice of virtue, under a
pretence of depreciating our works, and magnifying God’s free grace.
He spake often with much detestation, of such discoveries and joys
as have nothing of the nature of _sanctification_ in them, and do not
tend to strictness, tenderness, and diligence in religion, and meekness
and benevolence toward mankind: and he also declared, that he looked
on such pretended _humility_ as worthy of no regard, that was not
manifested by _modesty_ of _conduct_ and _conversation_.
*After he came hither, as long as he lived, he was much in speaking of
the future prosperity of Zion that is so often promised in scripture:
and his mind seemed to be carried forth with intense desires, that
religion might speedily revive and flourish; yea, the nearer death
advanced, 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; and 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_, among
Christ’s ministers and people, for the _coming of Christ’s kingdom_:
and he sent as his dying advice to _his own congregation_, that they
should practise agreeably to that proposal.¹
¹ His congregation, since this, have with great chearfulness
and unanimity fallen in with this advice, and have practised
agreeably to the proposal from Scotland; and have at times
appeared with uncommon engagedness and fervency of spirit
in their united devotions, pursuant to that proposal. Also
the presbyteries of New-York, and New-Brunswick, since
this, have with one consent, fallen in with the proposal,
as likewise some others of God’s people in those parts.
*Though he was exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a continual
care well to employ time, and fill it up with something that might
be profitable; 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 a
future management of his people, or employment in secret devotions. He
seemed never to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing something for
God, or in his service.
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 very apparent, not only, that his mind was
exhilarated with inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits
and bodily strength were remarkably restored.――――But this was the last
time that ever he attended public worship on the sabbath.
On Tuesday morning that week (I being absent on a journey) he prayed
with my family: but not without much difficulty; and this was the last
family prayer that ever he 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, August 23. This morning I was considerably refreshed with
the thought, yea, the expectation of the _enlargement of Christ’s
kingdom_; and I could not but hope, the time was at hand, when Babylon
the Great would fall, and rise no more. I was unable to attend public
worship: but God was pleased to afford me satisfaction in divine
thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when I can go to God, yea,
to God my exceeding joy.
*In this week past, I had divers turns of inward refreshing, though my
body was inexpressibly weak. 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, September 2. Being the day of our public lecture, he
seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neighbouring ministers, and
expressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God: 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 that ever he should attend the public worship,
as it proved. And indeed it was the last time that ever he went out at
our gate alive.
On the Saturday evening next following, he was unexpectedly visited by
his brother Mr. John Brainerd. He was much refreshed by this unexpected
visit, this brother being peculiarly dear to him: and he seemed to
rejoice in a devout manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable
tidings he brought concerning the state of his dear Indians: and a
circumstance of this visit, that he was exceeding glad of, was, that
his brother brought him some of his private writings from New-Jersey,
and particularly his diary that he had kept for many years past.]
Lord’s-day, September 6. I began to read some of my private writings,
which my brother brought me; and was considerably refreshed with what
I met with in them.
Monday, September 7. I proceeded further in reading my old private
writings, and found 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: I saw there was no heaven but this. I
could not but speak to the by-standers then of the only happiness, viz.
pleasing God. Oh that I could ever live to God! The day, I trust, is at
hand, the perfect day: Oh, the day of deliverance from all sin!
Lord’s-day, September 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 following that Lord’s-day, his feet began to swell,
which thenceforward swelled more and more. A symptom of his dissolution
coming on.
The next day his brother left him, being obliged to return to
New-Jersey on some business of great importance, intending to return
again with all possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more
in the land of the living.
Mr. Brainerd having now with much deliberation considered the important
affair before-mentioned, left with him by the honourable commissioners
in Boston, viz. the recommending two persons proper to be employed as
missionaries to the six nations, he about this time wrote a letter,
recommending two young gentlemen of his acquaintance Mr. Elihu Spencer
of East-Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong of Northampton. The commissioners on
the receipt of this letter, unanimously agreed to accept of the persons
he had recommended.
He also this week, wrote a letter to a gentleman in Boston, relating to
the growth of the Indian school, and the need of another school-master.
The gentlemen, on the receipt of this letter, had a meeting, and agreed
with chearfulness to give 200l. (in bills of the old tenor) for the
support of another school-master; and desired the Rev. Mr. Pemberton
of New-York, as soon as possible to procure a suitable person for that
service: and also agreed to allow 75l. to defray some special charges
that were requisite to encourage the mission to the six Nations.
Mr. Brainerd spent himself much in writing those letters, being
exceeding 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, not being able to write himself.
On the Thursday of this week (September 17.) was the last time that
ever he went out of his lodging-room. That day, he was again visited by
his brother Israel, who continued with him thenceforward 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 new symptoms of his dissolution, he
was so far from being damped, that he seemed to be animated; as being
glad at the appearances 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 was much in talking about it, and also settling all his affairs,
very particularly and minutely giving directions concerning what he
would have done. And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he
seemed to be of it. He several times spake of the different kinds of
_willingness to die_; and spoke of it as a mean kind of willingness to
die, to be willing to leave the body only to get rid of pain.]
*Saturday, September 19. While I attempted to walk a little, my
thoughts turned thus; “How infinitely sweet it is, to love God, and
be all for him!” Upon which it was suggested to me, “You are not an
angel, lively and active.” To which my 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, and not fit
for heaven.” Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ’s
_righteousness_, which I could not but exult and triumph in; and I
viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul even broke out
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 honour, but to give all ♦possible glory and praise.” Oh, how I
longed that God should be glorified on _earth_ also! _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, as long as he pleased. The
_grave_ appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in
it: but Oh, that God might be _glorified_! this was the burden of all
my cry. Oh, I knew, I should be _active_ as an angel, in heaven; and
that I should be stripped of my _filthy garments_!――――But Oh, 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 God, had the residue of the spirit; and my soul longed 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_.
♦ “possibly” replaced with “possible” per Errata
*[In the evening, 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_: and among many other extraordinary expressions,
were 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; this is my _religion_, and that is my happiness, and
always was, ever since 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 honour to God. It is no matter where I shall
be stationed in heaven, whether I have a high or a 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 Oh 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 it, that I have done no _more_
for him.――――There is nothing in the world worth living for, but _doing
good_ and _finishing God’s work_. 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 _char_ (or small piece of work) _for God_; either by
something that I say, or by writing, or some other way.”
He intermingled with these and other like expressions, many pathetic
_counsels_ to those that 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 of true piety, and its
great importance; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing short
of that true and thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to God;
counselling 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 shall I be buried, and here you will see my grave, and do
you remember what I have said to you. I am going into eternity: the
endlessness of it makes it sweet: but Oh, what shall I say to 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 when I was alive; then think with yourself how the man that
lies in that grave, counselled and warned me to prepare for death.”
His body seemed to be marvelously strengthened, through the inward
vigour of his _mind_; so that, although before he was so weak he
could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting
discourse 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.”
[It appears by what is noted in his _diary_, both of this day and the
evening preceeding, that his mind was at this time 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 assistance in this work; and 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, and had been prosecuting his studies there, to the end
that he might be fitted for the work of the ministry, and was now with
him. He now, and from time to time, recommended to his brother a life
of self-denial, of weanedness from the world, and devotedness to God,
and an earnest endeavour to obtain much of the grace of God’s Spirit,
and God’s gracious influences on his heart; representing the great
need which ministers stand in of them, and the unspeakable benefit of
them from his own experience. Among many other expressions he said,
*“When ministers feel these gracious influences on their hearts, it
wonderfully assists them to come at the consciences of men, and as it
were to handle them with their hands; whereas, without them, whatever
reason and oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps instead
of hands.”]
Monday, September 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 quick and lively, and my soul
refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. Oh, how good, how sweet
it is to labour for God!
♦ “suprisingly” replaced with “surprisingly”
Tuesday, September 22. I 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 my time.
Wednesday, September 23. I finished my corrections of the little piece
forementioned, 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 Oh, how vain and unworthy it is, to live for any lower end!
Friday, September 25. This day I was unspeakably weak, and little
better than speechless all the day: however, I was able to write a
little, and felt comfortably. Oh, it refreshed my soul, to think of
former things, of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living
to him! “Oh my dear God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope! Hasten
the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed will: Oh come, Lord Jesus, come
quickly. Amen.”¹
¹ This was the last 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.
September 27. He felt an unusual appetite to food; with which his mind
seemed to be _exhilarated_, as a sign of the very near approach of
_death_. He said upon it, “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 favour, if it may
be the will of God that it should be so: I long for the time. Oh, _why
is the 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. Oh, when I go there, how will God’s dear church on earth be upon
my mind!”
*Afterwards 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.”
During the whole of these last two weeks of his life, he seemed to
continue loose from all the world, as having done his work, and done
with all things here below, having nothing to do but to die, and
abiding in an earnest desire and expectation of the happy moment, when
his soul should take its flight, and go to a state of perfection, of
holiness, and perfect glorying and enjoying God. He said, “That the
consideration of the day of death, and the day of judgment, had a long
time been peculiarly sweet to him.” He from time to time spake of his
being willing to leave the body and the world immediately, if it was
the will of God. He also was much in expressing his longing that the
church of Christ on earth might flourish, and Christ’s kingdom here
might be advanced, notwithstanding he was about to leave the _earth_,
and should not with his eyes behold the desirable event. He said to
me, one morning, “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, which the dear Redeemer did, and suffered so much
for. It is that especially makes me long for it.”
He once told me, that “he had formerly longed for the out-pouring of
the Spirit of God, and the glorious times of the church, and hoped
they were coming: and should have been willing to have lived 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 to his mind.
He also still dwelt much on the great importance of the work of
_ministers_; and expressed his longings, that they might be _filled
with the Spirit of God_; and manifested much desire to see some of the
neighbouring ministers, whom he had some acquaintance with, 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, and that he spake of, from
time to time, in these near approaches of death, was the spiritual
prosperity of his own congregation: and 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 disposals of Providence,
with regard to the circumstances of his _death_; particularly that God
had before his death given him the opportunity he had in Boston, with
so many considerable persons, ministers, and others, to give in his
testimony for God, and against false religion; and there to lay before
charitable gentlemen, the state of the Indians, to so good effect; and
that God had since given him an opportunity to write to them farther
concerning these affairs; and to write other letters of importance,
that he hoped might be of good influence with regard to the state of
religion among the Indians, and elsewhere, after his death. He also
mentioned it as what he accounted a merciful circumstance of his death,
that he should die here. And speaking of these things, he said, “God
had granted him all his desire;” and signified, that now he could with
the greater alacrity leave the world.]
Monday, September 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 declining 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 this refreshed my
heart, that I could do any thing, either public or private for God.
[This evening, he was supposed to be dying: he thought so himself,
and was thought so by those who were about him. He seemed glad at the
appearance of death. He was almost speechless, but his lips appeared
to move: and one that sat very near him, heard him utter, “Come, Lord
Jesus, come quickly.――Oh, 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 he found in his mind at that time, he said, he
then found an inexpressibly sweet love to those that he looked upon as
_belonging to Christ_, beyond 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, September 29, as he lay in his bed, his mind
seemed greatly engaged concerning the prosperity of Zion: there being
present at that time two _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 him, and gave him new strength; so that, though before he could
scarce speak at all, now he proceeded, with some freedom of speech, to
give his dying counsels to those two young gentlemen, relating to the
great work of the ministry they were designed for. In particular, he
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. And after he had
finished his counsel, he made a prayer, in the audience of us all;
wherein, besides praying for his 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.]
Wednesday, September 30. I was obliged to keep my bed the whole day,
through weakness. However I redeemed a little time, and with the help
of my brother, read and corrected about a dozen pages in my M. S.
giving an account of my conversion.
Friday, October 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, and my absent brother, and all my concerns for time
and eternity. Oh that his kingdom might come into the world; that they
might all love and glorify him; and that the blessed Redeemer might
“see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied! Oh, come, Lord Jesus,
come quickly! Amen.”¹
¹ Here ends his diary: these are the last words, that are
written in it, either by his own hand, or from his mouth.
[The next evening we much expected his brother John from New-Jersey;
it being about a week after the time that he proposed for his return.
And though our expectations were still disappointed; yet Mr. Brainerd
seemed to continue unmoved, in the same calm frame, that 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, October 4, as my
daughter Jerusha (who chiefly tended 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!”¹ In the evening, as one came into the room
with a bible in her hand, he said, “Oh, 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!”
¹ Since this, it has pleased God to take away this my dear
child, on the 14th of February next following, after a short
illness of five days, in the eighteenth year of her age.
She was a person of much the same spirit with Mr. Brainerd.
She had constantly taken care of, and attended him in his
sickness, for nineteen weeks before his death, devoting
herself to it 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 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; and his high opinion
of her, not only as a true Christian, but a very eminent
saint; one whose soul was uncommonly fed and entertained
with things that appertain to the most spiritual parts of
religion; and one who, by the temper of her mind, was fitted
to deny herself for God, and to do good beyond any young
woman that he knew of. She had manifested a heart uncommonly
devoted to God, in the course of her life, many years before
her death; and said on her death-bed, that “she had not seen
one minute for several years, wherein 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.”
His distemper now apparently preyed on his vitals: not by a sudden
breaking of _ulcers_ in his lungs, as at Boston, but by a constant
discharge of ♦purulent matter, in great quantities; so that what he
brought up by expectoration, seemed to be as it were mouthfuls of
almost clear _pus_; which was attended with very great inward pain and
distress.
♦ “petulent” replaced with “purulent” per Errata
On Thursday, October 6, he lay for a considerable time, as if he was
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, viz. Wednesday, October 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. Mr. Brainerd
was refreshed with seeing him, and appeared fully satisfied with the
reasons of his delay; seeing the interest of religion and of the souls
of his people required it.
The next day, Thursday, October 8. He told me it was impossible for
anyone to conceive the distress he felt in his breast. He manifested
much concern lest he should dishonour God by impatience. He desired
that others would be much in lifting up their hearts to God for him.
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; as appeared by some considerable discourse he
had that evening with the Rev. Mr. Billing, one of the neighbouring
Ministers, concerning the great importance of the work of the ministry.
And afterwards, when it was very late in the night, he had much
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 distresses seemed to rise to a
greater height than ever; and he said to those then about him, that “it
was another thing to die than what people imagined;” explaining himself
to mean, that they were not aware what _bodily_ pain and anguish is
undergone before death. Towards day, his eyes fixed; and he continued
lying immoveable, till about six o’clock in the morning, and then
expired, on Friday, October 9, 1747, when his soul was received by his
dear Lord and Master, as an eminently faithful servant, into a state of
perfection of holiness, and fruition of God, which he had so often and
so ardently longed for.
Much respect was shewn to his memory at his _funeral_; which was on
the Monday following, after a sermon preached the same day, on that
solemn occasion. His funeral was attended by eight of the neighbouring
ministers, seventeen other gentlemen of liberal education, and a great
concourse of people.]
The End of the _Twelfth_ Volume.
ERRATA, Volume XII.
Page 19, line 2, _delete of_
Page 19, line 17, replace sickness_es_
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Page 25, line 10, replace _closing eyes_
Page 53, line 19, replace _ti_n
Page 106, line 3, replace con_fo_rmed
Page 112, line 21, replace it was _not_
Page 142, line 19, replace good_n_ess
Page 144, line 13, ♦replace James iii.
♦ could not identify how to apply to text
Page 188, line 13, replace _keep awake_
Page 190, line 19, replace _I came to_ the
Page 204, line 15, replace was _not_
Page 204, line ultima, replace _of_ this
Page 226, line ultima, replace _year_ past
Page 245, line antepenult, replace . _A_fter
Page 264, line 7, replace _a_ffected
Page 269, line 20, replace *Thursday
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