wretched, I ought to consider it a great mercy. For, being in such a necessity, I have less temptation to forsake God for other objects. And I have learned that I cannot endure such temptations. If this situation be less calculated to wean me from the world, to afford me an opportunity to overcome my pride and other corruptions, to prepare for a life of usefulness and for a world of happiness, here let me live, and here let me die, and thank God for having put me in circumstances so favorable to my eternal well being.

EXAMINATION. Why is it that I feel calm and happy tonight? I think the following reasons conduce to this. (1.) A sense of the kindness and mercy of the Lord. (2.) More hope of his favor. (3.) More expectation and hope that as God has not cast me off forever, he will assist me in overcoming my corruptions and enable me to lead a holy, happy life. That God should own and bless and undertake to carry me through my warfare, seems the most desirable thing that could happen to me. I long to be delivered from pride, anger and vanity. The mercies of God seem affecting and pleasant. That he is on the mercy seat to hear when sinners pray, seems an inexpressible favor and happiness. The prophetic office of Christ, and the knowledge which he communicates, appear precious. It seems desirable that he who redeemed the Church should have the office of administering salvation to it. And the excellencies of Christ, his tenderness, love, faithfulness, and amiableness, seem to add a relish to the salvation which he imparts. Salvation tastes the sweeter for coming from him.

Sabbath morning, March 4th. This forenoon expect to explain the true character of Israel's God. I wish to do it with a sincere desire to lead the people to a true knowledge of themselves and of God. And I wish to be affected myself with a sense of the beauty of the divine perfections. In the afternoon expect to administer a pointed reproof for some growing evils in the place. May I speak with humility, with tenderness, and with effect.

Noon. I have attended to my mind, and think I can say

that the reproof which I have prepared to administer this afternoon, has not proceeded from any other principle, (chiefly,) than a wish to do good. I wish to administer it with humble firmness, and leave the event with God. If it gives offence, I think I can appeal to my conscience that I meant well. God give abundant effect to the reproof, and prevent any from taking offence.

Night. If ever I spoke with humble firmness, with a desire to do good, without the fear of man, and with tenderness, I have done so this afternoon; though the reproof was the most pointed of any which I ever administered. Upon a view of the whole, I think that I have (with as much right feeling as I ever attain to,) done my duty, both in writing and delivering this sermon. And if offence is taken and disturbances are excited, I trust I shall not be accountable for them. With God I leave the event; beseeching him to carry the truth to the consciences of all, and cause it to produce permanent and general good. Felt serious and happy in all the public exercises of the day.

Sabbath evening, March 11th. I did not greatly feel my sermons to-day; yet I had some freedom and ardor in prayer especially in the first prayer this afternoon. Col. Gardiner's zeal, whose life I am now reading, shows me my own deadness and barrenness. O that I might follow him, and other saints, and the Son of God, with less unequal steps. O for a fresh anointing from God, that would make me more, much more of a living man.

I have this day been showing that Christ and his disciples are one in affection. And is it the case with me that I in very deed love the Redeemer? I think I am pleased to think that Christ came into the world to support the principle of supreme love to God, tenderness towards the poor, forgiveness of enemies, mutual affection and kindness between relatives, and general benevolence to mankind and all beings. He did this in taking measures that the law should not be set aside while sinners were saved. He sanctified by his death every just and excellent principle; and he appears excellent in this view.

hope I feel in some degree unworthy of any favor from God, and feel it to be inconsistent with inflexible purity, (which must always be armed against sin,) to overlook my sins and bestow on me any favor but out of respect to the atonement and perfect righteousness of Christ. Though my duties, so far as they are good, are worthy of divine approbation, yet my character, viewing it at large, is unworthy of God's acceptance. My best duties cannot make amends for my sins. And therefore I consent to have my own righteousness disclaimed as filthy rags, and to have nothing which I have done the ground of any favor from God. In this view I think I approve of Christ as my atonement, righteousness, and Advocate. I think I approve of him as my Prophet, to instruct me in the grand and excellent things of God; as my Lawgiver and Protector, as the Disposer of my life, as my Physician and Shepherd, as my Captain to fight my battles and deliver me from the world, the flesh, and the devil, as the Head of influence, as my Strength and Comforter, as a hiding place from the wind, &c.; as one appointed to preach good tidings to the meek, to bind up the broken-hearted, to deliver the captives, and to give joy to such as mourn in Zion; as the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of the world, and as my all in all. Such a Saviour I hope, I cordially love, and cast myself upon him as my Saviour from sin and death.

January 7th, 1799. Yesterday I was twenty-nine years old; and this day I set apart, (though my senses seem to be locked up by a cold,) to commemorate my birth day and the commencement of a new year. The Lord has once more visited this town. The sermon which I delivered in the afternoon of November 4th, I believe had more effect, through God's blessing, than any sermon I ever delivered in my life, especially on elderly people, who lay most on my mind. Last night I conversed with two men for whom I had felt very special interest. They both appear to be lately born again. My soul was overjoyed. It seemed almost enough; and I was well nigh ready to say, "Now lettest thou thy servant depart," &c. Glory be to God that he has thus so soon and so wonderfully

visited this place again, when hope was just giving up the ghost. I here leave it on record, that he is a prayer-hearing and wonder-working God. My soul has lately been desirous of seeing the kingdom of God come throughout the world, and has had hopes that such a day would draw nigh. I think the good appearances here have afforded me more solid satisfying comfort than I ever enjoyed in an awakening before. Among other peculiar circumstances calculated to produce joy, God has fastened on a number of heads of families, the least probable and the most important members of the society. Things are just as I could wish, and every thing looks wonderful. Began inspector of the schools under the new law. I have lately felt much interested in forming a system of education for the rising generation in this town, which promises with a blessing, to make them a generation to God's praise. I have desired, hoped, and prayed that God would carry it through. Some murmur, but I leave the affair with God. I know not that I ever set about any business with more pleasure than this. It promises much. Every thing has the appearance of being ordered in mercy.

Of the revival alluded to in the preceding paragraph, the following detailed account was given in two letters from Mr. GRIFFIN, to the Editors of the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine, and published in the numbers of that work for December, 1800, and January, 1801.

LETTER I.

Not having expected that an account of the late work of God among us would be called for, I have not been careful to charge my mind with particulars. Many impressive circumstances, which, had they stood alone, would not have been soon forgotten, have given place to others, which in their turn arrested and engrossed the attention. A succinct and general account shall however be attempted.

The work of divine grace among us, three years ago, by

which nearly fifty persons were hopefully added to the Lord, had not wholly ceased to produce effects on the people generally, when the late scene of mercy and wonder commenced. In the interval, several were, in the judgment of charity, "created anew in Christ Jesus unto good works." It is not known, however, that any thing took place in the summer of 1798, which had immediate connection with the present work, unless it were some trying conflicts in a number of praying minds, which appeared to humble and prepare them for the blessings and the duties of the ensuing winter.

Late in October, 1798, the people frequently hearing of the display of divine grace in West Simsbury, were increasingly impressed with the information. Our conferences soon became more crowded and evinced deeper feeling. Serious people began to break their minds to each other; and it was discovered (so far were present impressions from being the effect of mere sympathy) that there had been, for a considerable time, in their minds, special desires for the revival of religion; while each one, unapprized of his neighbor's feelings, had supposed his exercises peculiar to himself. It was soon agreed to institute a secret meeting for the express purpose of praying for effusions of the Spirit; which was the scene of such wrestlings as are not, it is apprehended, commonly experienced. Several circumstances conspired to increase our anxiety. The glorious work had already begun in Torringford, and the cloud appeared to be going all around us. It seemed as though Providence, by avoiding us, designed to bring to remembrance our past abuses of his grace. Besides, having been so recently visited with distinguishing favors, we dared not allow ourselves to expect a repetition of them so soon; and we began to apprehend it was the purpose of Him whom we had lately grieved from among us, that we should, for penalty, stand alone parched up in sight of surrounding showers. We considered what must be the probable fate of the risen generation, if we were to see no more of "the days that were past" for a number of years, and the apprehension that we might not caused sensations more easily felt than described.