CHAPTER IX.
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.[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,[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!
[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[—“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[‘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.”
[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.
[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]]
[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!”
[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.”
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.
[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!”
[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.