e published to the world an
explicit confession of his sins against 'that eminent servant of God.'

Edwards, like Milton, had long meditated a work which 'the world would
not willingly let die,' but, although he had for some years been
gathering materials, yet it was not until his removal to Stockbridge
that he addressed himself fully to the mighty task of authorship. His
habits of abstraction grew upon him amazingly during this effort, and
the notable Sarah sheltered him from intrusion, and anticipated his
wants. She was conscious of the greatness of the work with which he had
grappled, and stood by his side like a guardian angel while he
demolished errorists. It was her custom after the labors of the day to
steal up to the study, where, like Numa and Egeria, they held serene
communion. This was his sole medium of secular information, for in his
occasional walks he was like one in a dream. The whole man was engrossed
in what he alone could perform; indeed, to reconcile liberty and
necessity were a task for which he seemed providentially set apart. But
beneath these arguments, which rise Alp on Alp, there lurked a quiet
perception of humor, and the _reductio ad absurdum_, which he
occasionally drives home, showed the keenness of Puritan wit. How he
must have smiled, nay even laughed, in the midst of his abstractions at
that[E] metaphysical animal which illustrates the absurdity of his
opponents. When 'The Freedom of the Will' was finished, and the author
had sent it forth to do battle, he felt that the work of his life was
done.

Just at this time a deputation waited on him to solicit his acceptance
of the presidency of Nassau Hall. It was a strange sight to that rude
hamlet of Stockbridge--those reverend forms finishing their long journey
at the feet of the poor exiled missionary. When their errand was
announced, he burst into tears, overcome by a sense of unworthiness, and
in a subsequent letter he confirms his unfitness by reference to his
'flaccid solids and weak and sizy fluids.' But the demand was pressed,
and Northampton learns with astonishment the exaltation of her banished
pastor. The successful deputation possessed one member of rare interest.
This was John Brainerd, who had succeeded his brother David as a
missionary, and whom Edwards had met ten years before at the bedside of
his dying brother. David would have been, had both lived, the husband of
Jerusha--but now they slept side by side in Northampton bur