Chapter 6.
“Lone watcher on the mountain height
It is right precious to behold
The first long surf of climbing light
Flood all the thirsty east with gold;
But we who in the shadow sit,
Know also when the day is nigh,
Seeing thy shining forehead lit
With His inspiring prophecy.” ―Lowell.
There are two ways of finding happiness, it is said, either by trying to get all that we want, or by reducing our wants to the very smallest compass. Socrates, looking in the Athenian shop-window was twitted by an observer as forgetting his philosophy in coveting the gold and silver which he saw. But he said it was not so, he was just feeling thankful that there were so many things which he could do without. And it is quite true of everything, that the more we have the more we want, whether of happiness, money, or righteousness.
David Brainerd was a Christian philosopher, and he tried, and not unsuccessfully, to endure hardness as a good soldier, and not cumber himself with too many wants, as regards this world. As we have already seen, when he began his ministry among the Indians he made a clean sweep of all those desires and attractions, which might otherwise bind him to a civilized community. He felt that if he meant to catch fish he must stand in the stream, and if he wished to win these poor Indians for Christ he must dwell amongst them as much as possible, as one of themselves. Of course, in those days, New England life had not the abundant comforts or luxuries to which a missionary has to say farewell in our times, but the sweet simplicity and severe regularity of those Puritan homesteads had much to hold the heart of a man of Brainerd’s mold. Henceforth, however, the wilderness must be his home, and instead of the meeting-house, the shadowy woods and dark ravines the places where he meets his God. In these solitudes he had high and inspiring communion, and amidst many hardships and perils he was able to rejoice in the compensation of the peace which passeth all understanding. He tells us his mind, under these trials, after a terribly arduous ride home one night in one of his missionary journeys: ―“About six at night,” says he, “I lost my way in the wilderness, and wandered over rocks and mountains, down hideous steeps, through swamps and most dreadful and dangerous places, and the night being dark, so that few stars could be seen, I was greatly exposed. I was much pinched with cold, and distressed with an extreme pain in my head, attended with sickness at my stomach, so that every step I took was distressing to me. I had little hope for several hours together but that I must lie out in the woods all night in this distressed case. But about nine o’clock I found a house, through the abundant goodness of God, and was kindly entertained. Thus I have frequently been exposed, and sometimes lain out the whole night, but God has hitherto preserved me, and, blessed be His name, such fatigues and hardships as these seem to wean me more from the earth, and I trust will make heaven the sweeter. Formerly, when I was thus exposed to cold, rain, etc., I was ready to please myself with the thoughts of enjoying a comfortable house, a warm fire, and other outward comforts, but now these have less place in my heart (through the grace of God) and my eye is more to God for comforts. In this world I expect tribulation, and it does not now, as formerly, appear strange to me. I do not in such seasons of difficulty flatter myself that it might be better hereafter, but rather think how much worse it might be, how much greater trials others of God’s children have endured, and how much greater are yet reserved for me. Blessed be God that He makes the thoughts of my journey’s end and of my dissolution a great comfort to me under my sharpest trials, and scarce ever lets these thoughts be attended with terror or melancholy, but they are attended frequently with great joy.”
Thus had Brainerd found the secret of happiness, not in gratifying every craving of his heart, or by extinguishing those desires, but by glorying in tribulation, and thinking more of the mercy of God than of his own sufferings.
Of this man it may be truly said he died daily, death constantly seemed to stare him in the face, and meet him at every turn of the way. So often sorely stricken with sickness, he was always urging himself on to do more, and do it quickly lest it should be too late. “I long to do much in a little time,” he says, “and, if it might be the Lord’s will, to finish my work speedily in this tiresome world. I am sure I do not desire to live for anything in this world, and through grace I am not afraid to look the King of Terrors in the face.
He found it still necessary to use an interpreter, as his command of the language was not sufficient, and with this man, whom he had baptized after profession of the Christian faith, Brainerd set out in May, 1745, for Susquehannah. Their journey was most unpropitious, the country bleak and shelterless, and in the night time being visited by awful storms of rain and thunder. They could find no place of cover, and the sheets of water which descended made it impossible to light a fire, and to add to their troubles, their horses had eaten a poisonous plant, which rendered them good for nothing. However, they kept on their way on foot, leading their animals, and at last finding a little Indian hut of bark, they were thankful to rest there. This missionary tour covered over a hundred miles, along the banks of the river; meeting with seven or eight distinct tribes of Indians, and, in preaching to them he discerned how hostile they were towards Christianity. A few he found, however, willing to learn, and these he carefully instructed in the Word of God, and was much encouraged on finding some of the Indians who had been with him at Kaunaumeck recognizing him with great gladness. Afterward he seems to have had much freedom in speaking to the people, although as usual his physical health was in a lamentable state. It was with difficulty that he managed to return to his quarters at the Forks of Delaware, having traversed three hundred and forty miles. Brainerd frequently spoke of the difficulties with which he had to contend in his work by reason of the Indian settlements lying so far apart. During the space of three years he had to build for himself a house in three different and far distant localities-viz., Kaunaumeck, the Forks of Delaware, and Crossweeksung, and he had to pass between these places constantly. He says that they needed his constant attention, for the oldest of them was but as a child in his dependence upon the missionary for advice and stimulus to action. He knew these people and studied their character very closely, and has set down his impressions very clearly and in a manner full of interest. The question of the Indians, and what will be done with them, is and will be a very strong point with the people of America. Although the Indian is rapidly disappearing, the world will not soon forget him, and the opinions which Brainerd formed all those years ago is well worth preserving.
“The Indians are a poor and indigent people, and so destitute of the comforts of life, at some seasons of the year especially, that it is impossible for a person, who has any pity for them, to refrain from giving assistance (as, in some cases, it is peculiarly necessary), in order to remove their pagan jealousy, and engage their friendship to Christianity. And while they retain their pagan tempers, they discern little gratitude amidst all the kindnesses they receive. If they make any presents, they expect double satisfaction. And Christianity itself does not at once cure them of these ungrateful tempers.
“They have been bred up in idleness, and know little about cultivating land, or indeed, of engaging vigorously in any other business. So that I am obliged to instruct them in, as well as press them to, the performance of their work, and to be the oversight of all their secular business. They have little or no ambition or resolution. Not one in a thousand of them has the spirit of a man. And it is next to impossible to make them sensible of the duty and importance of being active, diligent, and industrious in the management of their worldly business, and to excite in them any spirit of promptitude of that nature. When I have labored to the utmost of my ability to show them of what importance it would be to the Christian interest among them, as well as to their worldly comfort, for them to be laborious and prudent in their business, and to furnish themselves with the comforts of life, how this would incline the pagans to come among them, and so put them under, the means of salvation; how it would encourage religious persons of the white people to help them, as well as stop the mouths of others that were disposed to cavil against them; how they might, by this means, pay others their just dues, and so prevent trouble from coming upon themselves and reproach upon their Christian profession; they have, indeed, assented to all I said, but been little moved, and, consequently, have acted like themselves, or, at least, too much so, though it must be acknowledged that those who appear to have a sense of Divine things are considerably amended in this respect, and it is to be hoped that time will make a yet greater alleviation upon them for the better.
“The concern I have had for the settling of these Indians in New Jersey in a compact form, in order to their being a Christian congregation, in the capacity of enjoying the means of grace, the care of managing their worldly business in order to this end, and to their having a comfortable livelihood, has been more pressing to my mind, and cost me more labor and fatigue for several months past, than all my other work among them.
“Their wandering to and fro, in order to procure the necessaries of life, is another difficulty that attends my work. This has often deprived me of opportunities to discourse with them, and it has thrown them in the way of temptation, either among pagans further remote, where they have gone to hunt, who have laughed at them for hearkening to Christianity, or among white people, more horribly wicked, who have often made them drunk, and then got their commodities-such as skins, baskets, brooms, shovels, and the like, with which they designed to have bought corn and other necessaries of life, for themselves and families-for it may be nothing but a little strong liquor, and then sent them home empty. So that for the labor, perhaps, of several weeks, they have got nothing but the satisfaction of being drunken men, and have not only lost their labor, but, which is infinitely worse, the impressions of some Divine subjects that were made upon their minds before.”
It will be noticed, in the foregoing, that strong drink, that curse of all the nations, had already begun to produce its fatal results upon the poor Indians. Perhaps there is no more conspicuous example to be found in the history of any people, of the swift degradation of a race, through drink, than in the case of the North American Indians. The fine qualities of these people, their dignity and hardihood, have rapidly disappeared by the desolating contact with what is miscalled civilization. Since Brainerd’s day they have lost their land wholesale, and are fast dying out in poverty, drink, and despair. What drink has begun, the bullet is rapidly completing, and the Indians, among whose forefathers Brainerd labored, and about whose life all New England poets have sung, will soon be a forgotten people.
Brainerd tells us at this time (July, 1745), about the conversion of his interpreter, a native who had been with him for some time. He and his wife were the first Indians baptized by him. This man’s spiritual history, as presented in Brainerd’s journal, is very interesting. At one time a hard drinker, he seems to have undergone a moral reformation after he entered the service of the missionary, and even showed a desire to do all he could to persuade the Indians to give up their idolatries and accept Christianity. But as regards his own soul, he seemed to give the message no heed. One day, however, Brainerd had been preaching with very great power, and his interpreter who was assisting him was much impressed. After a time this wore off, but returned again with extraordinary intensity. Like his master he began to agonize about his spiritual state, sleep departed from him, and his fellow Indians noticed him as, with the deepest concern, he walked to and fro among them, crying “What should I do to be saved?” He told Brainerd that before him there rose a high mountain up which he was bound to ascend, but when he essayed to do this “his way was hedged up with thorns that he could not stir an inch farther.” Vainly he strove, the more he labored to climb the mountain the more he grew exhausted and despairing, so that he said, “it signified just nothing at all for me to strive and struggle any longer.” The gloom upon him was deep, and looking back upon his life he lamented that while he had not been such a sinner as some Indians, “he had never done one good thing.” At the same time he saw clearly that others about were in the same peril and difficulty, and in their present condition quite unable to save themselves. Thus in his trouble of heart he almost gave himself up for lost, when he said it was as if an audible voice spoke to him, “There is hope; there is hope!” And one day this hope passed into a happy possession, for he was filled with peace through believing in Jesus Christ, then he was able to go amongst the Indians with a zealous regard for their salvation, and the temptation of strong drink, “in divers places where it was moving free as water,” was.no allurement to him. Brainerd after describing this man’s happy state, says of him, “Upon a new and strict observation of his serious and savory conversation, his Christian temper and unblemished behavior for a considerable time, as well as his experience I have given account of, I think that I have good reason to hope that he is “created anew in Christ Jesus to good works.” His name is Moses Tinda Tantamy, he is about fifty years of age, and is pretty well acquainted with the pagan notions and customs of his countrymen, and so is the better able now to expose them. He has, I am persuaded, already been and I trust will yet be a blessing to the other Indians.”
Success at last began to cheer the heart of the missionary who had worked so hard without seeing much perceptible fruit. At the request of the Society he made the Indian town of Crossweeksung, in New Jersey, his station, and from there he constantly journeyed to the various Indian tribes scattered abroad. The power of the Holy Ghost was upon him, and as he preached the Indians were impressed in a wonderful manner. The changed demeanor of his hearers made a striking difference on his spirits, he no longer constantly yearns for death, but says that he “is willing to live, and in some respects desirous of it, that I might do something for the dear Kingdom of Jesus Christ.” The penitence of these poor Indians greatly affected him, he could not look upon them lamenting their sins and praying for mercy, with dry eyes. When they gathered for their evening meal in the wigwam they would wait until he came to bless the food; and once when he was in a place preaching, he noticed several weeping together, who came afterward with the question of the Philippian jailor, and received the apostolic reply and guidance. Upon his heart had been the burden, and in those midnight meetings with the Almighty, when no eye saw and no ear heard the strivings of the saint for the sinner’s good, his cry had been, “I will not let Thee go.” Prayer offered thus was a prevailing power with God, and He who will be inquired of, hearkened unto His suppliant’s desire. Light was breaking in the backwoods, and a presence, far more wonderful than the great Spirit whom they had ignorantly worshipped, was manifested in the hearts of these heathen. How often in the solitude of the night had Brainerd striven in prayer for these souls so precious to God. “My soul, my very soul, longed for the ingathering of the poor heathen, and I cried to God for them most willingly and heartily; I could not but cry.” The tarrying may be long, but it is only tarrying; the worker may toil, the disciple yearn in love, the sower sow in tears, but the time of the singing of birds must come, and the sunshine of God’s favor brings joyously His kingdom in the hearts of men.
“Soul, then know thy full salvation;
Rise o’er sin and fear and care;
Joy to find in every station
Something still to do or bear.
Think what spirit dwells within thee;
Think what Father’s smiles are thine;
Think what Jesus did to win thee;
Child of heaven, canst thou repine’
“Haste thee on from grace to glory,
Armed by faith, and winged by prayer,
Heaven’s eternal clays before thee;
God’s own hand shall guide thee there.
Soon shall close thine earthly mission;
Soon shall pass thy pilgrim days;
Hope shall change to full fruition,
Faith to sight, and prayer to praise.”
Lyle.