lost my relish for Bunyan). I hoped that religion was radically formed in my mind. But, alas! I have found reason to lament that my subseqnent life came so much short of my early resolutions.

At the age of about sixteen I felt a strong desire of a public education. I realized the difficulty in my way. My patrimony lay chiefly in lands, and none had power to sell them for the purpose which I contemplated. I ventured, however, one evening, to propose the matter to my step-father, who gave it a more favourable attention than I expected; but said, that for certain reasons, of which I felt the force, the business must be delayed for a few months. After a little time, it was agreed, between him and an uncle of mine in Norwich, that they would sell a part of my lands, give a bond for a deed, and take on themselves the risk of my life and fidelity. This was a generous action. I secured them as soon as I was legally able.

I prepared for college under the tuition of the Rev. Mr. White, of Bolton, an accurate linguist and able instructor. I entered Yale college in 1750, being then in my nineteenth year, and graduated in 1754. While I was a member of college, I had two fits of sickness; but by the good hand of Providence was carried safely through both. In my last year I fell into a languid state, which continued for some months; but by returning home, and applying myself moderately to the labours of the field, I regains my usual health. At college I had too much neglected bodily exercise, which is absolutely necessary for the health of students.

In the course of this year there were some deaths in college, which deeply impressed my mind with a sense of the uncertainty of life, the necessity of religion, and the importance of a good hope. I felt a conviction of my sinfulness, lamented it before God, sought His mercy, and seemed to myself as if religion was my choice; but was much discouraged by an apprehension that I was one of the non-elect. I spent much time in secret exercises. As I was walking and meditating, one day, in solitude and anxiety, I reasoned thus with myself: "A Saviour has come to open a way of salvation for sinners. Salvation is offered, and the terms are stated. The offer is to all, and the terms are the same for all. In God there is no insincerity. To Him belong secret things; things only which are revealed belong to me. There can be no decree which frustrates the Divine promises. If I comply with the terms, the benefits promised are mine. God has chosen men to salvation through sanctification of the Spirit and belief of the truth. It concerns me to make my election sure, by adding to my faith, virtue, &c. By faith and patience I may inherit the promises." By thus arguing with myself, my anxiety was relieved, my mind composed, and my hope strengthened. Soon after this I made a profession of religion in the church in Bolton; and there, for the first time, I came to the Lord's table. After I had taken my degree, I came to Springfield, first parish, to teach a grammar-school, and was admitted a boarder in the family of the Rev. R. Breck, the minister of the parish, who kindly assisted me in my professional studies. In January 1756, by advice of Mr. Breck, I offered myself, as a candidate for the ministry, to an association of ministers then sitting in Suffield, who examined, approved, and recommended me. In March following, in consequence of advice from neighbouring ministers, I was invited by the parish of which I am now the pastor, then vacant by the death of the Rev. S. Hopkins, to preach as a candidate for settlement. In July I received an unanimous call, and in August received ordination. Some time after my ordination, realizing, from a little experience, the greatness of my work and my own insufficiency for it; considering how much might depend on my fidelity in it, and fearing I had undertaken it presumptuously; I set apart a day for secret devotion, having a special regard to my ministerial work. My meditations and resolutions on that day

I committed to writing, for my future use and benefit. After invoking God's presence and assistance, I called to mind the mercies which I had experienced from my childhood to that time, more particularly marking such as had been distinguished. I acknowledged my high obligations, lamented my unworthy returns, sought forgiveness of sins past, and implored grace for the time to come. I then made a fresh dedication of myself to God, with resolutions of future obedience to his will, and of fidelity in his service. My resolutions were, in substance, as follows:

With regard to my devotions, I resolved, that I would direct my morning thoughts to God, and spend some of my earliest moments in conversing with Him-That at evening I would recollect the sins and errors of the day, seeking God's mercy for pardon, and his grace for future security, and would review occurrences in providence with suitable reflections upon them-That I would anticipate the seasons of devotion, when I foresaw probable diversions-That I would transact ordinary business in the fear of God, set Him before me, and act under a sense of His presence-That I would seek a more intimate acquaintance with religion, in its doctrines and duties, and make it the rule of my conduct and the source of my comfort.

With regard to the government of myself, I resolved, To use God's creatures with sobriety-To exclude vain and sinful thoughts-To suppress rising corruptions-To avoid foreseen temptations, and resist such as might suddenly assail me- -To set a watch before me in places of known danger-To guard against rash and unadvised speech-To keep my passions in subjection, and acquire, as far as possible, an habitual command of them.

In my treatment of men, I resolved, To preserve a sacred regard to truth in my words, and to justice in my conduct-To be tender of character-Kind to the needy-Meek under supposed injuries-Thankful for favours-Hospitable to strangers-Condescending in cases of difference— Courteous and peaceable to all men.

In my ministerial character and work, I resolved, To cultivate in my my heart, and exemplify in my life, that religion which I had undertaken to preach-To compose my sermons with perspicuity, and accommodate them to the circumstances of my people-To attend on my ministry, even though I might incur worldly loss-To select subjects of real importance, and handle them faithfully, though I myself should fall under the censure of my own preaching-To improve providences in my preaching-To commend myself to the consciences of my hearers-In things indifferent, to make, not my own will and humour, but the common peace and edification, the rule of my conduct-To visit, advise, and comfort my people as occasion might require; but not to spend, in ceremonious and useless visits, the time which ought to be employed in my study-To attend to the calls of rich and poor indifferently, without preferring one before another-To write my sermons with care, and seek Divine direction when I entered on the composition of them-To approach God's house with collection of thought, and with a petition for the presence of His grace-To speak that only which might be profitable, and to keep back nothing that was so-To choose out acceptable, but upright words-To pay particular attention to the youth in my preaching-To examine what effect my preaching has on myself, and pray that it may have a saving effect on my hearers-To commend my people often to the grace of God, and to remember at His throne their various particular cases-In all my religious inquiries to make the sacred oracles my guide, and never to receive for doctrine the commandments of men.

Having formed and written these resolutions, I laid them before God,

and concluded with this prayer:-" My gracious God, these resolutions I have formed in thy presence, and, I hope, in thy fear. My performance will depend on thy grace. This I now humbly implore. Let it be present with me, and sufficient for me. I plead no worthiness of my own, for none have I to plead; but other and better arguments abound. They are such as Thou hast put into my mouth and into my heart. Let these prevail. I plead thine abundant mercy; the righteousness and intercession of thy Son; the power and goodness of thy Spirit; the free offers of thy help made in thy word; thy command that I should seek thy Spirit, and the promise annexed to the command. May I not also plead my relation to thy people? Thou hast put me into the ministry. I know not how much the salvation of others may depend on my fidelity. Let not my sins and my unworthiness hinder my receiving such a supply of thy grace as may be necessary to the success of my ministry. Let not my iniquities stand in the way of the salvation of any one among my fellowsinners. However it may ultimately fare with me, my heart's desire and prayer for my people is, That they may be saved." The transactions of this day I have repeatedly reviewed; and the review, I hope, has quickened me to duty; at least it has humbled me for my neglects.

In the evening of March 30, 1758, there was an occurrence which I ought to remember with gratitude. Late in the evening I was called to visit a family on a particular occasion, at the distance of two miles from my lodging. When I returned it was nearly midnight. Within about fifty rods of home, my horse stumbled, fell, and threw me over his head. When he rose, I found my left foot entangled in the stirrup. As I attempted to disengage it, the horse, being affrighted, cast up his heels and ran, dragging me after him. My situation forbade the hope of human aid, and prevented all efforts of my own. I committed myself to Providence, perhaps with as much calmness as my condition would permit; at least with as much as my mind was capable of. The horse made several turns, some so short that he almost trod on me. I was not in a situation to measure time, or ground; but the horse must have run with me a number of rods. At length my foot was disengaged, and I rose without feeling any injury, except some contusions by being dragged on the rough and frozen ground. A circumstance, trifling in itself, was the probable cause of my preservation. I had, on the preceding day, exchanged my shoes, and put on a pair in a state of decay, which I had not worn for a length of time. As it was evening when I rode out, I wore the shoes which I had on. The horse, in plunging, pressed my foot so far forward, that the stirrup came over my shoe-buckle, and there hung. The leather being old and tender, gave way, and the strap which held the buckle was torn off, with a part of the quarter. Had the leather been firm, my foot probably would not have been released. Life often depends on circumstances which are beyond human intention or fore-thought. The way of a man is not in himself: a horse is a vain thing for safety. A life preserved by God's interposing providence, ought to be devoted to the kind Preserver.

May 16, 1759, I was married to Miss Elizabeth Dwight, younger daughter of Capt. Seth Dwight, of Hatfield. This connexion laid a foundation for much family comfort. She has ever been a great blessing in her place, and in all her relations.

My steady aim in preaching has been to promote real religion in temper and practice, and to state and apply the doctrines of the Gospel in a manner best adapted to this end. Keeping this end in view, I have avoided unprofitable controversy. I have never started objections against a plain doctrine, to shew my agility in running them down. I have been careful not to awaken disputes which were quietly asleep, nor to waste

my own and my hearers' time by reproving imaginary faults, or indifferent customs. Among these I have reckoned the fashions of dress.

As I enjoyed the friendship of my people without interruption, so I was happy to see them in peace among themselves. They were undisturbed by any religious controversy, until the year 1772, when the baptistical controversy arose, which for a short time gave them some disquietude, and me some concern. Pamphlets in opposition to infant baptism and sprinkling, were industriously circulated among my people; particularly "Anonymous Letters to Bishop Hoadly." I felt it my duty to preach on the controversy. The sermons which I preached were soon published, at the desire of my people, and have been several times re-published. The people who withdrew from my ministry shewed no bitterness: they appeared to act on principle; they treated me with friendly respect, occasionally attended my meeting, requested my presence in their family afflictions, and always seemed to be gratified by my visits. Such as survived Mr. Upham's ministry, returned to enjoy mine. One of them, I recollect in particular, requested the assessors to assess him in the parish taxes; for, he said, he wished to aid in supporting the Gospel, where he enjoyed it. He desired communion with our church, to which he was cheerfully and unanimously admitted.

While the baptistical controversy was existing among us, a gentleman from a respectable town at some distance, then vacant, conferred with me, to know whether I would accept an invitation to settle in that town. I told him, I felt my insufficiency for the place mentioned to me; at present I perceived no disaffection to me among my people; I was decently supported by them; and my removal at the present conjuncture, however lucrative to myself, might be peculiarly dangerous to them; I therefore thought it my duty to stand in my lot.

In

The paper currency, which in 1775 began to be emitted for carrying on the revolutionary war, subjected me to the same embarrassments which were experienced by many of my brethren. My salary being reduced to a small pittance, I was obliged to attend to agricultural cares and labours more than I chose. My ministerial labours were also increased, by frequent conferences and lectures, and by the pastoral visits, to which a sickness prevalent for three successive seasons, indispensably called me. And my health began to be sensibly impaired. In the beginning of the year 1778 the small-pox became so rife in my vicinity, that I judged it prudent to inoculate myself and family, as none of us had had the disease. March we went into the hospital. We all had the disease favourably. But, not considering the debility naturally consequent to the disease, and to the regimen during its continuance, I immediately resumed my ministerial labours, which were much increased by instances of danger and mortality in the hospitals, where no other minister could attend. I soon felt my constitution yielding; in August I wholly desisted from my work. In December I had, by journeying and other means, regained so much strength, that I ventured into the pulpit; but after about four months, complaints returning, I took leave of the pulpit, little expecting ever to stand and speak there again. However, after about eighteen months I had collected so much strength that from a seat I spake to my people about fifteen minutes; but by that time I was so overcome, that, leaving the assembly to pray and read among themselves, I retired to my house and to my bed.

my

My people were now in a state of great tranquillity, faithfully attending at God's house, patiently hoping and waiting for my recovery, satisfied with my poor and short performances, and such better supplies as I sometimes procured for them, and, when both these failed, accepting the pious

and charitable labours of the deacons and other Christian brethren. But in this encouraging period there was an occurrence which much disturbed the harmony of the people, and probably retarded the return of my health. Toward the end of October, 1780, a John Watkins came into the parish, and began to preach in its extremities without my knowledge. He came originally from England, but directly from France, in an American ship. He professed to have had the charge of a large congregation in England to have been a warm advocate of the American cause—to have suffered much by pleading and writing in its defence-to have left his country, flock, family, and interest, and to have fled hither, that he might escape the rage of political persecution. He made great pretensions to piety; called himself a disciple of Whitefield; talked much about his conversion; expressed great indifference to the world, an ardent affection to my people, an anxious concern for them in their destitute condition, and an earnest desire to serve the interest of their souls. He brought no credentials from England; but imputed the omission to the precipitancy of his flight in a moment of danger, having by force effected an escape from a king's ship, on board of which he had been impressed by the direction of the officers of government, to prevent his influence in favour of America. (But though his flight was so sudden, I found that he had leisure to collect and bring with him large parcels of manuscripts.) The defect of credentials was easily overlooked in a man of so much patriotism, piety, and benevolence, especially under the existing circumstances of my people: he was invited into the pulpit to supply for a single Sabbath. Some who heard him, wished to hear him again. He soon was hired, by desire of the parish, to supply for a number of Sabbaths. His manner of preaching was vehement and vociferous; but his matter generally crude and unconnected. There were some good observations, which seemed to be delivered from his manuscripts; but there was much trash and error, for which the judicious hearers gave him the credit. He appointed frequent lectures and conferences in different parts of the parish, and seemed to prefer evening exercises. He acted as officially as if he had been the settled minister of the parish: I was seldom consulted, and seldom seen by him, except on the Lord's day. He laboured to disaffect the minds of my people to me, and in some instances he was for a time successful. In those whom he thought friendly to him he endeavoured to excite prejudices against such as he judged to be otherwise. In short, he acted in the genuine character of an impostor. After he had preached in the pulpit seven Sabbaths, and also a thanksgiving, on which his performance was more intolerable than usual, the dissatisfaction of the people became so apparent that he abruptly left the pulpit and set up a private meeting, on which a small number attended for a short time. But he proceeded not far, "for his folly was made manifest to all men;" and he withdrew, and went where he could find a place. He, however, left some minds soured with the prejudices and tinctured with the errors which he had infused by his preaching, especially by his private lectures and conferences. He had publicly and privately reviled the standing ministry—had taught that every saint has a right to preach, who can find hearers-that saints certainly know each other's hearts, and all whom they cannot fellowship are unregenerate-that the church ought to admit none to communion but those whom she knows to be regenerate, and none ought to offer themselves to communion but they who know themselves to be such-that, in Scripture, besides the literal, there is a mystical, spiritual sense, which none but saints understand, and which is immediately communicated to them by the Spirit of God, &c. &c. And these sentiments some have imbibed. A few of the members withdrew from the church. A committee was appointed to confer with them. The reasons