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Apostrophe To Sarah Pierrepont
by Jonathan Edwards
They met in 1723 in New Haven, Connecticut, when Edwards was twenty
years old, a graduate student and tutor at Yale. Sarah was then thirteen
years old, and she was the daughter of James Pierrepont, the mighty
minister of the New Haven church. One of her great-grandfathers had been
Thomas Hooker, and another had been the first mayor of New York City.
Hers was an impeccable social background and Sarah’s burnished manners
matched her breeding. When the gawky Edwards first met Sarah, he scared
her. Unusually tall, in an era when men tended to be short of stature;
abstemious in a society of jolly drinkers; intense and studious, Edwards
made an awkward beau. Looking on as Sarah would shine in social
situations, Edwards would be conscious of his own shortcomings, and
would go home to admonish himself in his journal with such entries as
“Have lately erred, in not allowing time enough for conversation.” When
he went home to East Windsor, Connecticut at the end of the school term,
he was supposed to be studying for his M.A. degree. He had a great deal
of studying to do, but the usually focused Edwards found that his mind
was wandering. In the front page of a Greek grammar, he wrote the famous
digression to his future wife:
“They say there is a young lady in New Haven who is beloved of that
almighty Being, who made and rules the world, and that there are certain
seasons in which this great Being, in some way or other invisible, comes
to her and fills her mind with exceeding sweet delight, and that she
hardly cares for anything, except to meditate on him — that she expects
after a while to be received up where he is, to be raised up out of the
world and caught up into heaven; being assured that he loves her too
well to let her remain at a distance from him always. There she is to
dwell with him, and to be ravished with his love and delight forever.
Therefore, if you present all the world before her, with the richest of
its treasures, she disregards it and cares not for it, and is unmindful
of any pain or affliction. She has a strange sweetness in her mind, and
singular purity in her affections; is most just and conscientious in all
her actions; and you could not persuade her to do anything wrong or
sinful, if you would give her all the world, lest she should offend this
great Being. She is of a wonderful sweetness, calmness and universal
benevolence of mind; especially after those seasons in which this great
God has manifested himself to her mind. She will sometimes go about from
place to place, singing sweetly; and seems to be always of joy and
pleasure; and no one knows for what. She loves to be alone, and to
wander in the fields and on the mountains, and seems to have someone
invisible always conversing with her.” |
