CHAPTER V (2)

Aug. 15.—“Spent most of the day in labor, to procure something to keep my horse on in the winter. Had not much spiritual enjoyment in the morning; was very weak in body through the day; and thought that this frail body would soon drop into the dust; and had some very realizing apprehensions of a speedy entrance into another world. In this weak state of body, I was not a little distressed for want of suitable food. I had no bread, nor could I get any. I am forced to go or send ten or fifteen miles for all the bread I eat; and sometimes it is mouldy and sour before I eat it, if I get any considerable quantity. And then again I have none for some days together, for want of an opportunity to send for it, and cannot find my horse in the woods to go myself; and this was my case now; but through divine goodness I had some Indian meal, of which I made cakes, and fried them. Yet I felt contented with my circumstances, and sweetly resigned to God. In prayer I enjoyed great freedom; and blessed God as much for my present circumstances as if I had been a king; and thought that I found a disposition to be contented in any circumstances. Blessed be God.”

In his diary for Saturday, he says he was somewhat melancholy and sorrowful in mind; and adds, “I never feel comfortably, but when I find my soul going forth after God. If I cannot be holy, I must necessarily be miserable for ever.

Lord’s day, Aug. 21.—“Was much straitened in the forenoon exercise; my thoughts seemed to be all scattered to the ends of the earth. At noon, I fell down before the Lord, groaned under my vileness, barrenness, and deadness; and felt as if I was guilty of soul murder, in speaking to immortal souls in such a manner as I had then done. In the afternoon God was pleased to give me some assistance, and I was enabled to set before my hearers the nature and necessity of true repentance. Afterward had some small degree of thankfulness. Was very ill and full of pain in the evening and my soul mourned that I had spent so much time to so little profit.

Aug. 23.—“Studied in the forenoon, and enjoyed some freedom. In the afternoon labored abroad: endeavored to pray, but found not much enjoyment or intenseness of mind. Toward night was very weary, and tired of this world of sorrow: the thoughts of death and immortality appeared very desirable, and even refreshed my soul. Those lines turned in my mind with pleasure,

“In evening prayer, God was pleased to draw near my soul, though very sinful and unworthy; so that I was enabled to wrestle with God, and to persevere in my requests for grace. I poured out my soul for all the world, friends and enemies. My soul was concerned, not so much for souls as such, but rather for Christ’s kingdom, that it might appear in the world, that God might be known to be God, in the whole earth. And O my soul abhorred the very thought of a party in religion! Let the truth of God appear, wherever it is; and God have glory for ever. Amen. This was indeed a comfortable season. I thought I had some foretaste of the enjoyments and employments of the upper world. O that my soul was more attempered to it!

Aug. 31.—[On a journey to New-York.] “Was in a sweet, serious, and I hope, Christian frame. Eternal things engrossed all my thoughts; and I longed to be in the world of spirits. O how happy is it to have all our thoughts swallowed up in that world: to feel one’s self a stranger in this world, diligently seeking a road through it, the best, the sure road to the heavenly Jerusalem!”

He went forward on his journey, and after tarrying two or three days at New-York, set out from that city toward New-Haven, intending to be there at the commencement.

Lord’s day, Sept. 11.—“[At Horse-Neck.] In the afternoon I preached from Titus, 3:8. I think God never helped me more in painting true religion, and in detecting clearly, and tenderly discountenancing false appearances of religion, wild fire, party zeal, spiritual pride, &c. as well as a confident dogmatical spirit, and its spring, viz. ignorance of the heart. In the evening took much pains in private conversation to suppress some confusions which I perceived were among that people.

Sept. 13.—“Rode to New-Haven. Was sometimes dejected; not in the sweetest frame. Lodged at ****. Had some profitable Christian conversation. I find, though my inward trials were great, and a life of solitude gives them greater advantage to settle, and penetrate to the very inmost recesses of the soul; yet it is better to be alone than incumbered with noise and tumult. I find it very difficult maintaining any sense of divine things while removing from place to place diverted with new objects, and filled with care and business. A settled steady business is best adapted to a life of strict religion.

Sept. 14.—“This day I ought to have taken my degree; but God sees fit to deny it me. And though I was greatly afraid of being overwhelmed with perplexity and confusion, when I should see my classmates take theirs; yet, at the very time, God enabled me with calmness and resignation to say, “the will of the Lord be done.” Indeed, through divine goodness, I have scarcely felt my mind so calm, sedate, and comfortable for some time. I have long feared this season, and expected my humility, meekness, patience and resignation would be much tried; but found much more pleasure and divine comfort than I expected. Felt spiritually serious, tender and affectionate in private prayer with a dear Christian friend to-day.

Sept. 15.—“Had some satisfaction in hearing the ministers discourse. It is always a comfort to me to hear religious and spiritual conversation. O that ministers and people were more spiritual and devoted to God! Toward night, with the advice of Christian friends, I offered the following reflections in writing, to the rector and trustees of the college—which are for substance the same that I had freely offered to the rector before, and intreated him to accept—that if possible I might cut off all occasion of offence from those who seek occasion. What I offered, is as follows:

“‘Whereas I have said before several persons, concerning Mr. Whittelsey, one of the tutors of Yale College, that I did not believe he had any more grace than the chair I then leaned upon; I humbly confess, that herein I have sinned against God, and acted contrary to the rules of his word, and have injured Mr. Whittelsey. I had no right to make thus free with his character; and had no just reason to say as I did concerning him. My fault herein was the more aggravated, in that I said this concerning one who was so much my superior, and one whom I was obliged to treat with special respect and honor, by reason of the relation I stood in to him in the college. Such a manner of behavior I confess did not become a Christian; it was taking too much upon me, and did not savor of that humble respect which I ought to have expressed toward Mr. Whittelsey. I have long since been convinced of the falseness of those apprehensions, by which I then justified such a conduct. I have often reflected on this act with grief; I hope, on account of the sin of it: and am willing to lie low, and be abased before God and man for it. I humbly ask the forgiveness of the governors of the college and of the whole society; but of Mr. Whittelsey in particular. And whereas I have been accused by one person of saying concerning the reverend rector of Yale College, that I wondered he did not expect to drop down dead for fining the scholars that followed Mr. Tennent to Milford; I seriously profess that I do not remember my saying any thing to this purpose: but if I did, which I am not certain I did not, I utterly condemn it, and detest all such kind of behavior; and especially in an under-graduate toward the rector. And I now appear to judge and condemn myself for going once to the separate meeting in New-Haven, a little before I was expelled, though the rector had refused to give me leave. For this I humbly ask the rector’s forgiveness. And whether the governors of the college shall ever see cause to remove the academical censure I lie under, or no, or to admit me to the privileges I desire; yet I am willing to appear, if they think fit, openly to own, and to humble myself for those things I have herein confessed.’”

“God has made me willing to do any thing that I can do consistently with truth, for the sake of peace, and that I might not be a stumbling block to others. For this reason I can cheerfully forego and give up what I verily believe, after the most mature and impartial search, is my right, in some instances. God has given me the disposition, that, if a man has done me a hundred injuries, and I (though ever so much provoked to it) have done him only one, I feel disposed and heartily willing humbly to confess my fault to him, and on my knees to ask forgiveness of him; though at the same time he should justify himself in all the injuries he has done me, and should only make use of my humble confession to blacken my character the more, and represent me as the only person guilty; yea, though he should as it were insult me, and say, “he knew all this before, and that I was making work for repentance.” Though what I said concerning Mr. Whittelsey was only spoken in private, to a friend or two; and being partly overheard, was related to the rector, and by him extorted from my friends; yet, seeing it was divulged and made public, I was willing to confess my fault therein publicly. But I trust God will plead my cause.”

I was witness to the very Christian spirit which Brainerd showed at that time; being then at New-Haven, and one whom he thought fit to consult on that occasion. This was my first opportunity of a personal acquaintance with him. There truly appeared in him a great degree of calmness and humility, without the least appearance of rising of spirit for any ill treatment which he supposed he had suffered, or the least backwardness to abase himself before them who, as he thought, had wronged him. What he did was without any objection or appearance of reluctance, even in private to his friends, to whom he freely opened himself. Earnest application was made on his behalf to the authority of the college, that he might have his degree then given him; and particularly by the Rev. Mr. Burr of Newark, one of the correspondents of the society in Scotland; he being sent from New-Jersey to New-Haven, by the rest of the commissioners, for that end; and many arguments were used, but without success. Indeed, the governors of the college were so far satisfied with the reflections which Brainerd had made on himself, that they appeared willing to admit him again into college; but not to give him his degree, till he should have remained there at least twelve months, which being contrary to what the correspondents, to whom he was now engaged, had declared to be their mind, he did not consent to it. He desired his degree, as he thought it would tend to his being more extensively useful; but still when he was denied it, he manifested no disappointment or resentment.

Sept. 20.—“[At Bethlehem.] Had thoughts of going forward on my journey to my Indians; but toward night was taken with a hard pain in my teeth, and shivering cold; and could not possibly recover a comfortable degree of warmth the whole night following I continued very full of pain all night; and in the morning had a very hard fever, and pains almost over my whole body. I had a sense of the divine goodness in appointing this to be the place of my sickness, among my friends, who were very kind to me. I should probably have perished if I had first got home to my own house in the wilderness, where I have none to converse with but the poor, rude, ignorant Indians. Here, I saw, was mercy in the midst of affliction. I continued thus, mostly confined to my bed, till Friday night; very full of pain most of the time; but, through divine goodness, not afraid of death. Then I saw the extreme folly of those who put off their turning to God till a sick bed. Surely this is not a time proper to prepare for eternity. On Friday evening my pains went off somewhat suddenly. I was exceedingly weak, and almost fainted; but was very comfortable the night following. I thought we were to prize the continuation of life, only on this account, that we may “show forth God’s goodness and works of grace.”