Chapter IX (2)

_Lord’s day, April 5._—“It grieved me to find myself so inconceivably barren. My soul thirsted for grace; but, alas, how far was I from obtaining what appeared to me so exceeding excellent! I was ready to despair of ever being a holy creature, and yet my soul was desirous of ‘following hard after God;’ but never did I see myself so far from ‘having apprehended, or being already perfect,’ as at this time. The Lord’s supper being this day administered, I attended the ordinance; and though I saw in myself a dreadful emptiness and want of grace, and saw myself as it were at an infinite distance from that purity which becomes the gospel, yet at the communion, especially during the distribution of the bread, I enjoyed some warmth of affection, and felt a tender love to the brethren; and, I think, to the glorious Redeemer, the _first-born_ among them. I endeavored then to bring forth mine and his ‘enemies,’ and ‘slay them before him;’ and found great freedom in begging deliverance from this spiritual death, as well as in asking divine favors for my friends and congregation, and the church of Christ in general.

_April 10._—“This day my brother John arrived at Elizabethtown. Spent some time in conversation with him; but was extremely weak.”

This brother had been sent for by the _Correspondents_, to take care of and instruct Brainerd’s congregation of Indians; he being obliged by his illness to be absent from them. He continued to take care of them till Brainerd’s death, and was soon after ordained his _successor_ in his mission, and to the charge of his congregation.

_April 17._—“In the evening, could not but think that God helped me to ‘draw near to the throne of grace,’ though most unworthy, and gave me a sense of his favor; which afforded me inexpressible support and encouragement. Though I scarcely dared to hope that the mercy was real, it appeared so great; yet could not but rejoice that ever God should discover his reconciled face to such a vile sinner. Shame and confusion, at times, covered me; and then hope, and joy, and admiration of divine goodness gained the ascendancy. Sometimes I could not but admire the divine goodness, that the Lord had not let me fall into all the grossest and vilest acts of sin.

_April 20._—“Was in a very disordered state, and kept my bed most of the day. I enjoyed a little more comfort than in several of the preceding days. _This day I arrived at the age of twenty-nine years._

_April 21._—“I set out on my journey for New England, in order (if it might be the will of God) to recover my health by riding.”

This proved his final departure from New-Jersey. He travelled slowly, and arrived among his friends at East-Haddam, about the beginning of May. There is very little account in his diary, of the time that passed from his setting out on his journey to May 10. He speaks of his sometimes finding his heart rejoicing in the glorious perfections of God, and longing to live to him; but complains of the unfixedness of his thoughts, and their being easily diverted from divine subjects, and cries out of his leanness, as testifying against him, in the loudest manner. Concerning those _diversions_ which he was obliged to use for his health, he says, that he sometimes found he could use diversions with “singleness of heart,” aiming at the glory of God; but that he also found there was a necessity of great care and watchfulness, lest he should lose that spiritual temper of mind in his diversions, and lest they should degenerate into what was merely selfish, without any supreme aim at the glory of God in them.

_Lord’s day, May 10._—“I could not but feel some measure of gratitude to God at this time, that he had always disposed me, in my ministry, to insist on the great doctrines of _regeneration_, the _new creature_, _faith in Christ_, _progressive sanctification_, _supreme love to God_, _living entirely to the glory of God_, _being not our own_, and the like. God thus helped me to see, in the surest manner, from time to time, that these, and the like doctrines necessarily connected with them, are the _only foundation_ of safety and salvation for perishing sinners and that those divine dispositions which are consonant hereto, are that _holiness_, ‘without which no man shall see the Lord.’ The exercise of these Godlike tempers—wherein the soul acts in a kind of concert with God, and would be and do every thing that is pleasing to him—I saw, would stand by the soul in a dying hour; for God must, I think, _deny himself_, if he cast away _his own image_, even the soul that is one in desires with himself.

_Lord’s day, May 17._—“Spent the forenoon at home, being unable to attend public worship. At this time, God gave me such an affecting sense of my own vileness, and the exceeding sinfulness of my heart, that there seemed to be nothing but sin and corruption within me. ‘Innumerable evils compassed me about;’ my want of spirituality and holy living, my neglect of God, and living to myself. All the abominations of my heart and life seemed to be open to my view; and I had nothing to say, but, ‘God be merciful to me a sinner.’ Toward noon, I saw that the grace of God in Christ is infinitely free toward sinners, such sinners as I was. I also saw that God is the supreme good; that in his presence is life; and I began to long to die, that I might be with him, in a state of freedom from all sin. O how a small glimpse of his excellency refreshed my soul! O how worthy is the blessed God to be loved, adored, and delighted in, for himself, for his own divine excellencies!

“Though I felt much dulness, and want of a spirit of prayer this week, yet I had some glimpses of the excellency of divine things; and especially one morning, in secret meditation and prayer, the excellency and beauty of holiness, as a likeness to the glorious God, was so discovered to me, that I began to long earnestly to be in that world where holiness dwells in perfection. I seemed to long for this perfect holiness, not so much for the sake of my own happiness, although I saw clearly that this was the greatest, yea, the only happiness of the soul, as that I might please God, live entirely to him, and glorify him to the utmost stretch of my rational powers and capacities.

_Lord’s day, May 24._—“(At Long-Meadow, in Massachusetts.) Could not but think, as I have often remarked to others, that much more of _true religion_ consists in _deep humility, brokenness of heart, and an abasing sense of barrenness and want of grace and holiness_, than most who are called Christians imagine; especially those who have been esteemed the converts of the late day. Many seem to know of no other religion but elevated joys and affections, arising only from some flights of imagination, or some suggestion made to their mind, of Christ being their’s, God loving them, and the like.”

On Thursday, May 28, he came from Long-Meadow to Northampton, appearing vastly better than, by his account, he had been in the winter—indeed so well, that he was able to ride twenty-five miles in a day, and to walk half a mile; and appeared cheerful, and free from melancholy; but yet he was undoubtedly, at that time, in a confirmed, incurable consumption.

I had had much opportunity, before this, of particular information concerning him, from many who were well acquainted with him; and had enjoyed a personal interview with him, at New-Haven, near four years before, as has been already mentioned; but now I had opportunity for a more full acquaintance. I found him remarkably sociable, pleasant, and entertaining in his conversation; yet solid, savory, spiritual, and very profitable. He appeared meek, modest, and humble; far from any stiffness, moroseness, or affected singularity in speech or behavior, and seeming to dislike all such things. We enjoyed not only the benefit of his conversation, but had the comfort and advantage of joining with him in family prayer, from time to time. His manner of praying was very agreeable, most becoming a worm of the dust and a disciple of Christ, addressing an infinitely great and holy God, the Father of mercies; not with florid expressions, or a studied eloquence; not with any intemperate vehemence, or indecent boldness. It was at the greatest distance from any appearance of ostentation, and from every thing that might look as though he meant to recommend himself to those that were about him, or set himself off to their acceptance. It was free also from vain repetitions; without impertinent excursions, or needless multiplying of words. He expressed himself with the strictest propriety, with weight and pungency; and yet, what his lips uttered seemed to flow from the _fulness of his heart_, as deeply impressed with a great and solemn sense of our necessities, unworthiness, and dependence, and of God’s infinite greatness, excellency and sufficiency, rather than merely from a warm and fruitful brain, pouring out good expressions. I know not that I ever heard him so much as ask a blessing or return thanks at table, but there was something remarkable to be observed both in the matter and manner of the performance. In his prayers, he insisted much on the prosperity of Zion, the advancement of Christ’s kingdom in the world, and the flourishing and propagation of religion among the Indians. And he generally made it one petition in his prayer, “that we might not outlive our usefulness.”

_Lord’s day, May 31._—“(At Northampton.) I had little inward sweetness in religion most of the week past; not realizing and beholding spiritually the glory of God and the blessed Redeemer; from whence always arise my comforts and joys in religion, if I have any at all; and if I cannot so behold the excellencies and perfections of God, as to cause me to rejoice in him for what he is in himself, I have no solid foundation for joy. To rejoice, only because I apprehend I have an interest in Christ, and shall be finally saved, is a poor mean business indeed.”

This week he consulted Dr. Mather, at my house, concerning his illness; who plainly told him, that there were great evidences of his being in a confirmed _consumption_, and that he could give him no encouragement that he would ever recover. But it seemed not to occasion the least discomposure in him, nor to make any manner of alteration as to the cheerfulness and serenity of his mind, or the freedom or pleasantness of his conversation.

_Lord’s day, June 7._—“My attention was greatly engaged, and my soul so drawn forth this day, by what I heard of the 'exceeding preciousness of the saving grace of God’s Spirit,' that it almost overcame my body, in my weak state. I saw that true grace is exceedingly precious indeed; that it is very rare; and that there is but a very small degree of it, even where the reality of it is to be found; at least I saw this to be _my_ case.

“In the preceding week, I enjoyed some comfortable seasons of meditation. One morning, the cause of God appeared exceedingly precious to me. The Redeemer’s kingdom is all that is valuable in the earth, and I could not but long for the promotion of it in the world. I saw also, that this cause is God’s; that he has an infinitely greater regard and concern for it than I could possibly have; that if I have any true love to this blessed interest, it is only a drop derived from that ocean. Hence I was ready to ‘lift up my head with joy,’ and conclude, 'Well, if God’s cause be so dear and precious to him, he will promote it.' Thus I did, as it were, rest on God that he would surely promote that which was so agreeable to his own will; though the time when, must still be left to his sovereign pleasure.”

He was advised by physicians still to continue riding, as what would tend, above any other means, to prolong his life. He was at a loss, for some time, which way to bend his course; but finally determined to ride from hence to Boston; we having concluded that one of our family should go with him, and be helpful to him in his weak and low state.

_June 9._—“I set out on a journey from Northampton to Boston. Travelled slowly, and got some acquaintance with a number of ministers on the road.

“Having now continued to ride for a considerable time, I felt much better than I had formerly done, and found, that in proportion to the prospect I had of being restored to a state of usefulness, I desired the continuance of life; but now _death_ appeared inconceivably more desirable to me than a useless life; yet, blessed be God, I found my heart, at times, fully resigned and reconciled to this greatest of afflictions, if God saw fit thus to deal with me.

_June 12._—“I arrived in Boston this day, somewhat fatigued with my journey. Observed that there is no _rest_ but in God; fatigues of body, and anxieties of mind, attend us both in town and country: no place is exempt.

_Lord’s day, June 14._—“I enjoyed some enlargement and sweetness in family prayer, as well as in secret exercises; God appeared excellent, his ways full of pleasure and peace, and all I wanted was a spirit of holy fervency to live to him.

_June 17._—“This and the two preceding days I spent mainly in visiting the ministers of the town, and was treated with great respect by them.

_June 18._—“I was taken exceedingly ill, and brought to the gates of death, by the breaking of small ulcers in my lungs, as my physician supposed. In this extremely weak state I continued for several weeks; and was frequently reduced so low as to be utterly speechless, and not so much as to whisper a word. Even after I had so far revived as to walk about the house, and to step out of doors, I was exercised every day with a faint turn, which continued usually four or five hours; at which times, though I was not so utterly speechless but that I could say yes or no, yet I could not converse at all, nor speak one sentence, without making stops for breath; and a number of times my friends gathered round my bed, to see me breathe my last, which they expected every moment, as I myself also did.

“How I was, the first day or two of my illness, with regard to the exercise of reason, I scarcely know. I believe I was somewhat shattered with the violence of the fever at times; but the third day of my illness, and constantly afterward, for four or five weeks together, I enjoyed as much serenity of mind, and clearness of thought, as perhaps ever in my life. I think that my mind never penetrated with so much ease and freedom into divine things, as at this time; and I never felt so capable of demonstrating the truth of many important doctrines of the Gospel as now. As I saw clearly the truth of those great doctrines, which are justly styled the _doctrines of grace_; so I saw with no less clearness, that the _essence of religion_ consisted in the soul’s _conformity to God_, and acting above all selfish views for his _glory_, longing to be _for him_, to live _to him_, and please and honor _him_ in all things: and this from a clear view of his infinite excellency and worthiness in himself, to be loved, adored, worshipped, and served by all intelligent creatures. Thus I saw, that when a soul _loves_ God with a supreme love, he therein acts like the blessed God himself, who most justly loves himself in that manner. So when God’s interest and his are become one, and he longs that God should be _glorified_, and rejoices to think that he is unchangeably possessed of the highest glory and blessedness, herein also he acts in conformity to God. In like manner, when the soul is fully resigned to, and rests satisfied and content with the divine will, here it is also _conformed_ to God.

“I saw farther, that as this divine temper, by which the soul exalts God, and treads self in the dust, is wrought in the soul by God’s discovering his own glorious perfections _in the face of Jesus Christ_ to it by the special influences of the Holy Spirit, so he cannot but have _regard to it_ as his own work; and as it is his image in his soul, he cannot but take _delight_ in it. Then I saw again, that if God should slight and reject his own _moral image_, he must needs _deny himself_; which he cannot do. And thus I saw the _stability_ and _infallibility_ of this religion; and that those who are truly possessed of it, have the most complete and satisfying evidence of their being interested in all the benefits of Christ’s redemption, having their hearts conformed to him; and that these, and these only, are qualified for the employments and entertainments of God’s kingdom of glory; as none but these have any relish for the business of heaven, which is to ascribe glory to God, and not to themselves; and that God (though I would speak it with great reverence of his name and perfection) cannot, without denying himself, finally cast such away.

“The next thing I had then to do, was to inquire whether _this_ was _my_ religion; and here God was pleased to help me to the most easy remembrance and critical review of what had passed in course, of a religious nature, through several of the latter years of my life. Although I could discover much corruption attending my best duties, many selfish views and carnal ends, much spiritual pride and self-exaltation, and innumerable other evils which compassed me about, yet God was pleased, as I was reviewing, quickly to put this question out of doubt, by showing me that I had, from time to time, acted above the utmost influence of mere self-love; that I had longed to please and glorify him, as my highest happiness, &c. This review was, through grace, attended with a present feeling of the same divine temper of mind. I felt now pleased to think of the glory of God, and longed for heaven, as a state wherein I might glorify him perfectly, rather than a place of happiness for myself. This feeling of the love of God in my heart, which I trust the Spirit of God excited in me afresh, was sufficient to give me a full satisfaction, and make me long, as I had many times before done, to be with Christ.

“As God was pleased to afford me clearness of thought, and composure of mind, almost continually for several weeks, under my great weakness; so he enabled me, in some measure, to improve my time, as I hope, to valuable purposes. I was enabled to write a number of important letters to friends in remote places; and sometimes I wrote when I was speechless, _i. e._ unable to maintain conversation with any body; though perhaps I was able to speak a word or two so as to be heard.

“At this season also, while I was confined at Boston, I read with care and attention some papers of old Mr. Shepard, lately come to light, and designed for the press; and, as I was desired and greatly urged, made some corrections where the sense was left dark for want of a word or two. Beside this, I had many visitants, with whom, when I was able to speak, I always conversed of the things of religion, and was peculiarly assisted in distinguishing between the _true_ and _false_ religion of the times. There is scarcely any subject which has been matter of controversy of late, but I was at one time or other compelled to discuss and show my opinion respecting it, and that frequently before numbers of people. Especially, I discoursed repeatedly on the nature and necessity of that _humiliation_, _self-emptiness_, or full conviction of a person’s being utterly undone in himself, which is necessary in order to a saving faith; and the extreme difficulty of being brought to this, and the great danger there is of persons taking up with some self-righteous appearances of it. The _danger_ of this I especially dwelt upon, being persuaded that multitudes perish in this hidden way; and because so little is said from most pulpits to discover any danger here; so that persons being never effectually brought to _die in themselves_, are never truly _united to Christ_, and so perish. I also discoursed much on what I take to be the essence of true religion; endeavoring plainly to describe that god-like temper and disposition of soul, and that holy conversation and behavior, which may justly claim the honor of having God for its original and patron. I have reason to hope God blessed my way of discoursing and distinguishing to some, both ministers and people; so that my time was not wholly lost.”

He was visited while in Boston by many, who showed him uncommon respect, and appeared highly pleased and entertained with his conversation. Beside being honored with the company and respect of ministers of the town, he was visited by several ministers from various parts of the country. He took all opportunities to discourse on the peculiar nature and distinguishing characteristics of true, spiritual, and vital religion; and to bear his testimony against the various false appearances of it, consisting in, or arising from impressions on the _imagination_, sudden and supposed immediate _suggestions_ of truth not contained in the Scripture, and that faith which consists _primarily_ in a person’s believing that Christ died for him in particular, &c. What he said was, for the most part, heard with uncommon attention and regard; and his discourses and reasonings appeared manifestly to have great weight and influence with many with whom he conversed, both ministers and others.

The Commissioners in Boston, of the Society in London for propagating the Gospel in New-England and parts adjacent, having received a legacy of the late Rev. Dr. Daniel Williams, of London, for the support of two missionaries to the heathen, were pleased, while he was in Boston, to consult him about a mission to those Indians called the Six Nations, particularly respecting the qualifications requisite in a missionary to those Indians. They were so satisfied with his sentiments on this head, and had such confidence in his faithfulness, his judgment and discretion in things of this nature, that they desired him to undertake to find and recommend two persons fit to be employed in this business; and very much left the matter with him.

BRAINERD’S restoration from his extremely low state in Boston, so as to go abroad again, and to travel, was very unexpected to him and his friends. My daughter, who was with him, writes thus concerning him, in a letter dated June 23:

“On Thursday, he was very ill with a violent fever, and extreme pain in his head and breast, and at turns delirious. So he remained till Saturday evening, when he seemed to be in the agonies of death; the family was up with him till one or two o’clock, expecting that every hour would be his last. On Sabbath day he was a little revived, his head was better, but he was very full of pain, exceeding sore at his breast, and had great difficulty in breathing. Yesterday he was better. Last night he slept but little. This morning he was much worse. Dr. Pynchon says, he has no hope of his life; nor does he think it likely that he will ever come out of the chamber; though he says he _may_ be able to come to Northampton.”

In another letter, dated June 29, she says:—“Mr. BRAINERD has not so much pain, nor fever, since I last wrote, as before; yet he is extremely weak and low, and very faint, expecting every day will be his last. He says it is impossible for him to live, for he has hardly vigor enough to draw his breath. I went this morning into town, and when I came home, Mr. Bromfield said he never expected I should see him alive, for he lay two hours, as they thought, dying; one could scarcely tell whether he was alive or not; he was not able to speak for some time; but now is much as he was before. The doctor thinks he will drop away in such a turn. Mr. BRAINERD says, he never felt any thing so much like _dissolution_ as that he felt to-day; and says, he never had any conception of its being possible for any creature to be alive, and yet so weak as he is from day to day. Dr. Pynchon says, he should not be surprised if he should so recover as to live half a year; nor would it surprise him if he should die in half a day. Since I began to write, he is not so well, having had a faint turn again: yet he is patient and resigned, having no distressing fears, but the contrary.”

He expressed himself to one of my neighbors, who at that time saw him in Boston, that he was as certainly a dead man, as if he was shot through the heart. But so it was ordered in divine Providence, that the strength of nature held out, and he revived, to the astonishment of all who knew his case.

After he began to revive, he was visited by his youngest brother, ISRAEL, a student at Yale College; who having heard of his extreme illness, went from thence to Boston, in order to see him; if he might find him alive, which he but little expected. BRAINERD greatly rejoiced to see his brother, especially because he had desired an opportunity of some religious conversation with him before he died. But this meeting was attended with sorrow, as his brother brought to him the tidings of his sister Spencer’s death, at Haddam; a sister, between whom and him had long subsisted a peculiarly dear affection, and much intimacy in spiritual things, and whose house he used to make his own when he went to Haddam, his native place. But he had a confidence of her being gone to heaven, and an expectation of soon meeting her there. His brother continued with him till he left the town, and came with him from thence to Northampton. Concerning the last Sabbath Brainerd spent in Boston, he writes in his diary as follows:

_Lord’s day, July 19._—“I was just able to attend public worship, being carried to the house of God in a chaise. Heard Dr. Sewall preach in the forenoon: partook of the Lord’s supper at this time. In this ordinance I saw astonishing divine _wisdom_ displayed, such wisdom as clearly required the tongues of angels and glorified saints to celebrate. It seemed to me that I never should do any thing at adoring the infinite wisdom of God, discovered in the contrivance of man’s redemption, until I arrived at a world of perfection; yet I could not help striving ‘to call upon my soul, and all within me, to bless the name of God.’ In the afternoon, heard Mr. Prince preach. I saw more of God in the _wisdom_ discovered in the plan of man’s redemption, than I saw of any other of his perfections, through the whole day.”

The next day, having bid an affectionate farewell to his friends, he set out in the cool of the afternoon, on his journey to Northampton, attended by his brother and my daughter, who went with him to Boston; and would have been accompanied out of the town by a number of gentlemen, besides the respected person who gave him his company for some miles on that occasion, as a testimony of their esteem and respect, had not his aversion to any thing of pomp and show prevented it.

_July 25._—“I arrived here, at Northampton; having set out from Boston on Monday, about 4 o’clock P. M. In this journey I usually rode about sixteen miles a day. Was sometimes extremely tired and faint on the road, so that it seemed impossible for me to proceed any further; at other times I was considerably better, and felt some freedom both of body and mind.

_Lord’s day, July 26._—“This day I saw clearly that I should never be happy; yea, that God himself could not make me happy, unless I could be in a capacity to ‘please and glorify him for ever.’ Take away this, and admit me in all the fine heavens that can be conceived of by men or angels, and I should still be miserable for ever.”

Though he had so revived as to be able to travel thus far, yet he manifested no expectation of recovery. He supposed, as his physician did, that his being brought so near to death at Boston, was owing to the breaking of ulcers in his lungs. He told me that he had several such ill turns before, only not to so high a degree, but, as he supposed, owing to the same cause, viz. the breaking of ulcers; that he was brought lower and lower every time; that it appeared to him, that in his last sickness he was brought as low as he could be, and yet live; and that he had not the least expectation of surviving the next return of this breaking of ulcers; he still appeared perfectly calm in the prospect of death.

On _Wednesday_ morning, the week after he came to Northampton, his brother Israel left us for New-Haven, and he took leave of him, never expecting to see him again in this world.

When BRAINERD came hither, he had so much strength as to be able, from day to day, to ride out two or three miles, and sometimes to pray in the family; but from this time he gradually decayed, becoming weaker and weaker. As long as he lived, he spoke much of that _future prosperity of Zion_ which is so often foretold and promised in the Scriptures; it was a theme upon which he delighted to dwell; and his mind seemed to be carried forth with earnest concern about it, and intense desires that religion might speedily and abundantly revive and flourish; yea, the nearer death advanced, and the more the symptoms of its approach increased, still the more did his mind seem to be taken up with this subject. He told me, when near his end, that “he never, in all his life, had his mind so led forth in desires and earnest prayers for the flourishing of Christ’s kingdom on earth, as since he was brought so exceeding low at Boston.” He seemed much to wonder that there appeared no more of a disposition in ministers and people to _pray_ for the flourishing of religion through the world; that so little a part of their prayers was generally taken up about it, in their families and elsewhere. Particularly, he several times expressed his wonder that there appeared no more forwardness to comply with the proposal lately made, in a Memorial from a number of ministers in Scotland, and sent over into America, for united extraordinary prayer, amongst Christ’s ministers and people, for the coming of Christ’s kingdom: and sent it as his dying advice to his own congregation, that they should practise agreeably to that proposal.

Though he was constantly exceeding weak, yet there appeared in him a continual care well to improve _time_, and fill it up with something that might be profitable, and in some respect for the glory of God or the good of men; either profitable conversation, or writing letters to absent friends; or noting something in his diary; or looking over his former writings, correcting them, and preparing them to be left in the hands of others at his death; or giving some directions concerning the future management of his people; or in secret devotions. He seemed never to be easy, however ill, if he was not doing something for God, or in his service. After he came hither, he wrote a _preface_ to a _diary_ of Mr. SHEPARD, contained in the papers above mentioned, which has since been published.

In his diary for _Lord’s day_, August 9, he speaks of longing desires after death, through a sense of the excellency of a state of _perfection_. In his diary for _Lord’s day_, August 16, he speaks of his having so much refreshment of _soul_ in the house of God that it seemed also to refresh his _body_. And this is not only noted in his diary, but was very observable to others; it was apparent, not only that his mind was exhilarated with inward consolation, but also that his animal spirits and bodily strength seemed to be remarkably restored, as though he had forgot his illness. But this was the last time that ever he attended public worship on the Sabbath.

On _Tuesday_ morning that week, as I was absent on a journey, he prayed with my family, but not without much difficulty, for want of bodily strength; and this was the last family prayer that he ever made. He had been wont, till now, frequently to ride out, two or three miles: but this week, on Thursday, was the last time he ever did so.

_Lord’s day, Aug. 23._—“This morning I was considerably refreshed with the thought, yea, the hope and expectation of the _enlargement of Christ’s kingdom_; and I could not but hope that the time was at hand, when Babylon the great would fall, and ‘rise no more.’ This led me to some spiritual meditations, which were very refreshing to me. I was unable to attend public worship either part of the day; but God was pleased to afford me fixedness and satisfaction in divine thoughts. Nothing so refreshes my soul, as when I can go to God, yea, 'to God my exceeding joy When he is such to my soul, O how unspeakably delightful is this!

“In the week past I had divers turns of inward refreshing, though my body was inexpressibly weak, followed continually with agues and fevers. Sometimes my soul centered in God, as my only portion; and I felt that I should be for ever unhappy, if He did not reign. I saw the sweetness and happiness of being his subject, at his disposal. This made all my difficulties quickly vanish.”

Till this week he had been wont to lodge in a room above stairs, but he now grew so weak, that he was no longer able to go up stairs and down. _Friday, August 28_, was the last time he ever went above stairs; henceforward he betook himself to a lower room.

On _Wednesday, Sept. 2_, being the day of our public lecture, he seemed to be refreshed with seeing the neighboring ministers who came hither to the lecture, and expressed a great desire once more to go to the house of God on that day; and accordingly rode to the meeting, and attended divine service, while the Rev. Mr. Woodbridge, of Hatfield, preached. He signified that he supposed it to be the last time he should ever attend public worship; as it proved. Indeed it was the last time that he ever went out of our gate.

On the Saturday evening next following, he was unexpectedly visited by his brother, Mr. JOHN BRAINERD, who came to see him from New-Jersey. He was much refreshed by this unexpected visit, this brother being peculiarly dear to him; and he seemed to rejoice in a devout and solemn manner, to see him, and to hear the comfortable tidings which he brought concerning the state of his dear congregation of Christian Indians. A circumstance of this visit of which he was exceedingly glad, was, that his brother brought him some of his _private writings_ from New-Jersey, and particularly his _diary_, which he had kept for many years past.

_Lord’s day, Sept. 6._—“I began to read some of my private writings which my brother brought me, and was considerably refreshed with what I found in them.

_Sept. 7._—“I proceeded further in reading my old private writings, and found that they had the same effect upon me as before. I could not but rejoice and bless God for what passed long ago, which, without writing, had been entirely lost.

“This evening, when I was in great distress of body, my soul longed that _God should be glorified_. O that I could for ever live to God! The day, I trust, is at hand, the perfect day. O the day of deliverance from all sin!

_Lord’s day, Sept. 13._—“I was much refreshed and engaged in meditation and writing, and found a heart to act for God. My spirits were refreshed, and my soul delighted to do something for God.”

On the evening of that Lord’s day, his feet began to swell; and thenceforward swelled more and more: a symptom of his dissolution coming on. The next day, his brother John left him, being obliged to return to New-Jersey on some business of great importance and necessity; intending to return again with all possible speed, hoping to see his brother yet once more in the land of the living.

BRAINERD having now, with much deliberation, considered the subject referred to him by the commissioners of the Society for propagating the Gospel in New-England and parts adjacent, wrote them about this time, recommending two young gentlemen of his acquaintance, Mr. Elihu Spencer, of East Haddam, and Mr. Job Strong, of Northampton, as suitable missionaries to the Six Nations. The commissioners, on the receipt of this letter, cheerfully and unanimously agreed to accept of and employ the persons whom he had recommended.

On _Wednesday, Sept. 16_, he wrote to some charitable gentlemen in Boston in behalf of the Indian school, showing the need of another schoolmaster, or some person to assist the schoolmaster in instructing the Indian children. These gentlemen, on the receipt of his letter, had a meeting, and agreed with great cheerfulness to give £200 (in bills of the old tenor) for the support of another schoolmaster; and desired the Rev. Mr. Pemberton, of New-York, (who was then at Boston, and was also at their desire, present at the meeting,) as soon as possible to procure a suitable person for that service; and also agreed, in accordance with an intimation from BRAINERD, to allow £74 to defray some special charges which were requisite to encourage the mission to the Six Nations.

BRAINERD spent himself much in writing those letters, being exceedingly weak; but it seemed to be much to his satisfaction that he had been enabled to do it, hoping that it was something done for God, and which might be for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom and glory. In writing the last of these letters, he was obliged to use the hand of another.

On Thursday of this week, (Sept. 17,) when he went out of his lodging-room for the last time, he was again visited by his brother ISRAEL, who continued with him till his death. On that evening he was taken with something of a diarrhea, which he looked upon as another sign of his approaching death; whereupon he expressed himself thus: “Oh, the glorious time is now coming! I have longed to serve God perfectly: now God will gratify those desires!” And from time to time, at the several steps and new symptoms of the sensible approach of his dissolution, he was so far from being sunk or depressed in spirits, that he seemed to be _animated_ and made more cheerful, as being glad at the appearance of death’s approach. He often used the epithet _glorious_, when speaking of the day of his death, calling it that _glorious day_. And as he saw his dissolution gradually approaching, he talked much about it; and with perfect calmness spoke of a future state. He also settled all his affairs, giving directions very particularly and minutely concerning what he would have done in one respect and another after his decease. And the nearer death approached, the more desirous he seemed to be to depart. He several times spoke of the different kinds of willingness to die; and represented it as an ignoble, mean kind, to be willing to leave the body only to get rid of pain; or to go to heaven only to get honor and advancement there.

_Sept. 19._—“Near night, while I attempted to walk a little, my thoughts turned thus: ‘How infinitely sweet to love God, and be all for him!’ Upon which it was suggested to me, ‘You are not an angel, not lively and active.’ To which my whole soul immediately replied, ‘I as sincerely desire to love and glorify God as any angel in heaven.’ Upon which it was suggested again, ‘But you are filthy, not fit for heaven.’ Hereupon instantly appeared the blessed robes of Christ’s _righteousness_, in which I could not but exult and triumph; and I viewed the infinite excellency of God, and my soul even broke with longings that God should be glorified. I thought of dignity in heaven, but instantly the thought returned, ‘I do not go to heaven to get honor, but to give all possible glory and praise.’ O how I longed that God should be glorified on _earth_ also! O I was _made_ for eternity, if God might be glorified! Bodily pains I cared not for; though I was then in extremity, I never felt easier. I felt willing to glorify God in that state of bodily distress as long as he pleased I should continue in it. The grave appeared really sweet, and I longed to lodge my weary bones in it; but O that God might be glorified! this was the burden of all my cry. O I knew that I should be active as an angel in heaven, and that I should be stripped of my filthy garments! so that there was no objection. But, O to love and praise God more, to please him for ever! this my soul panted after, and even now pants for, while I write. Oh that God might be glorified in the whole earth! ‘Lord let thy kingdom come.’ I longed for a spirit of preaching to descend and rest on ministers, that they might address the consciences of men with closeness and power. I saw that God had the residue of the Spirit, and my soul longed that it should be ‘poured from on high.’ I could not but plead with God for my dear congregation, that he would preserve it, and not suffer his great name to lose its glory in that work; my soul still longing that God might be glorified.”

The extraordinary frame he was in that evening could not be hid. “His mouth spake out of the abundance of his heart,” expressing in a very affecting manner much the same things as are written in his diary. Among very many other extraordinary expressions which he then uttered, were such as these: “My heaven is to please God, and glorify him, and to give all to him, and to be wholly devoted to his glory; that is the heaven I long for; that is my religion, and that is my happiness, and always was, ever since I suppose I had any true religion; and all those that are of that religion shall meet me in heaven. I do not go to heaven to be advanced, but to give honor to God. It is no matter where I shall be stationed in heaven, whether I have a high or low seat there; but to love, and please, and glorify God is all. Had I a thousand souls, if they were worth any thing, I would give them all to God; but I have nothing to give when all is done. It is impossible for any rational creature to be happy without acting all _for God_; God himself could not make him happy any other way. I long to be in heaven, praising and glorifying God with the holy angels; all my desire is to glorify God. My heart goes out to the burying place; it seems to me a desirable place: but O to glorify God! that is it; that is above all. It is a great comfort to me to think that I have done a little for God in the world; Oh! it is but a very small matter, yet I have done a little, and I lament that I have not done more for him. There is nothing in the world worth living for, but doing good, and finishing God’s work, doing the work that Christ did. I see nothing else in the world that can yield any satisfaction besides living to God, pleasing him, and doing his whole will. My greatest joy and comfort has been to do something for promoting the interest of religion and the souls of particular persons; and now, in my illness, while I am full of pain and distress from day to day, all the comfort I have is in being able to do some little service for God, either by something I say, or by writing, or in some other way.”

He intermingled with these, and other like expressions, many pathetical counsels to those who were about him, particularly to my children and servants. He applied himself to some of my younger children at this time; calling them to him, and speaking to them one by one; setting before them, in a very plain manner, the nature and essence of true piety, and its great importance and necessity; earnestly warning them not to rest in any thing short of a true and thorough change of heart, and a life devoted to God. He counselled them not to be slack in the great business of religion, nor in the least to delay it; enforcing his counsels with this, that his words were the words of a _dying man_. Said he, “I shall die here, and here I shall be buried, and here you will see my grave, and I wish you to remember what I have said to you. I am going into eternity; and it is sweet for me to think of eternity; the endlessness of it makes it sweet: but O what shall I say of the eternity of the wicked! I cannot mention it, nor think of it; the thought is too dreadful. When you see my grave, then remember what I said to you while I was alive; then think how the man who lies in that grave counselled and warned you to prepare for death.”

His _body_ seemed to be marvellously strengthened, through the inward vigor and refreshment of his mind; so that, although before he was so weak that he could hardly utter a sentence, yet now he continued his most affecting and profitable discourse to us for more than an hour, with scarce any intermission; and said of it when he had done, “it was the last sermon that ever he should preach.” This extraordinary frame of mind continued the next day, of which he speaks in his diary as follows:

_Lord’s day, Sept. 20._—“Was still in a sweet and comfortable frame, and was again melted with desires that God might be glorified, and with longings to love and live to him. Longed for the influences of the divine Spirit to descend on _ministers_ in an especial manner. And O I longed to be with God, to behold his glory, and to bow in his presence.”

It appears by what is noted in his diary, both of this day and the evening preceding, that his mind at this time was much impressed with a sense of the importance of the work of the _ministry_, and the need of the grace of God, and his special spiritual assistance in this work; it also appeared in what he expressed in conversation, particularly in his discourse to his brother Israel, who was then a member of Yale College at New-Haven, prosecuting his studies for the work of the ministry.[I] He now, and from time to time, in this his dying state, recommended to his brother a life of self-denial, of weanedness from the world and devotedness to God, and an earnest endeavor to obtain much of the grace of God’s Spirit, and God’s gracious influences on his heart; representing the great need in which ministers stand of them, and the unspeakable benefit of them, from his own experience. Among many other expressions, he said thus: “When ministers feel these special gracious influences on their hearts, it wonderfully assists them to come at the consciences of men, and as it were to handle them with hands; whereas, without them, whatever reason and oratory we make use of, we do but make use of stumps, instead of hands.”

Footnote I:

This brother was ingenious, serious, studious, and hopefully pious;
there appeared in him many qualities giving hope of his being a great
blessing in his day. But it pleased God, soon after the death of his
brother, to take him away also. He died that winter at New-Haven,
January 6, 1748, of a nervous fever, after about a fortnight’s
illness.

_Sept. 21._—“I began to correct a little volume of my private writings. God, I believe, remarkably helped me in it; my strength was surprisingly lengthened out, my thoughts were quick and lively, and my soul refreshed, hoping it might be a work for God. O how good, how sweet it is to labor for God!

_Sept. 22._—“Was again employed in reading and correcting, and had the same success as the day before. I was exceeding weak, but it seemed to refresh my soul thus to spend time.

_Sept. 23._—“I finished my corrections of the little piece before mentioned, and felt uncommonly peaceful; it seemed as if I had now done all my work in this world, and stood ready for my call to a better. As long as I see any thing to be done for God, life is worth having; but O how vain and unworthy it is to live for any lower end! This day I indited a letter, I think, of great importance, to the Rev. Mr. Byram, in New-Jersey. Oh that God would bless and succeed that letter, which was written for the benefit of _his_ church![J] Oh that God would ‘purify the sons of Levi,’ that his glory may be advanced! This night I endured a dreadful turn, wherein my life was expected scarce an hour or minute. But, blessed be God, I have enjoyed considerable sweetness in divine things this week, both by night and day.

Footnote J:

It was concerning the qualifications of ministers, and the examination
and licensing of candidates for the work of the ministry.

_Sept. 24._—“My strength began to fail exceedingly; which looked, further, as if I had done all my work: however, I had strength to fold and superscribe my letter. About two I went to bed, being weak and much disordered, and lay in a burning fever till night, without any proper rest. In the evening I got up, having lain down in some of my clothes; but was in the greatest distress, having an uncommon kind of hiccough; which either strangled me, or threw me into a straining to vomit, accompanied with other griping pains. O the distress of this evening! I had little expectation of living the night through, nor indeed had any about me; and I longed for the finishing moment! I was obliged to repair to bed by six o’clock; and through mercy enjoyed some rest; but was grievously distressed at turns with the hiccough. My soul breathed after God, ‘When shall I come to God, even to God, my exceeding joy?’ Oh for his blessed likeness!

_Sept. 25._—“I was unspeakably weak, and little better than speechless all the day; however, I was able to write a little, and some part of the day was comfortable. O it refreshed my soul to think of former things, of desires to glorify God, of the pleasures of living to him! O, blessed God, I am speedily coming to thee, I hope. Hasten the day, O Lord, if it be thy blessed will. O come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen.[K]

Footnote K:

This was the last time that ever he wrote in his diary with his own
hand; though it is continued a little farther, in a broken manner;
written by his brother Israel, but indited by his mouth, in this his
weak and dying state.

_Sept. 26._—“I felt the sweetness of divine things this forenoon, and had the consolation of a consciousness that I was doing something for God.

_Lord’s day, Sept. 27._—“This was a very comfortable day to my soul; I think, I awoke with God. I was enabled to lift up my soul to God, early this morning; and while I had little bodily strength, I found freedom to lift up my heart to God for myself and others. Afterward, was pleased with the thoughts of speedily entering into the unseen world.”