Continuation of an Account of a Revival of Religion in Farmington, Conn., in the year 1799

This is the second part of the account that began here.

I shall now give a summary account of several particular cases.

The first is of a man about 30 years old; of a religious family, and of a good understanding. He was in the view of the world, a good man a praying man; and one who was not considered by any who were acquainted with him as inclined to be enthusiastic, or subject to any uncommon dejection, or gloominess of mind. As he had enjoyed special advantages by means of a religious education, to know himself, and be influenced to his duty, so he was called upon, and peculiarly tried by distressing and alarming providences—particularly by the very sudden death of his two only sons, within a few days of each other, in the fall of 1798. This distressing scene awakened him to some concern, and attention at first, but it very soon passed off, and he became as careless and inattentive as ever—living, however, as before, in the formal observance of family religion, and external morality. At length, in the month of February following, God was pleased by his almighty Spirit, to fix that conviction of sin, and sense of guilt on his mind which the most powerful means, and awakening calls of God’s providence and Word, had not been able to do. From this time, I shall give the exercises of his mind as I took them from his mouth.

“I was first awakened at a lecture in a neighboring society. I was in great distress under a sense of sin, and my distress continued and increased for two or three weeks, when I found a sermon by Dr. Doddridge upon the diversity of the operations of the Spirit. Before this I had no idea that I had experienced anything of true religion; but after reading that book, I began to feel more easy. For several days, I thought I loved to pray and to read the Scriptures. But the next Sabbath I heard a discourse which in some measure, confounded me. The design of it was, to describe the nature of true religion, and distinguish it from that which originates in selfishness. The observations appeared to be just and Scriptural, and yet to be against me. A few days after this, I began to have heart-risings against God, and was filled with pain and opposition, whenever I saw others appear to delight in God and religion. After this, I had a greater sense of the plague of my heart, than ever before. My mind had been more fixed before this, upon particular out-breakings of sin. But now I was led to a sight and sense of the fountain of wickedness within me, from which all had flowed—and I was convinced that I was an enemy to God. Before this, when I thought or spoke of my sins, I often shed tears; but now I was unable to weep. I considered this at that time, as the effect of a greater degree of hardness and stupidity. And it appeared to me to be occasioned by conversing with Christians and ministers. The more I conversed with them, the more hard and unfeeling I seemed to grow; and it was suggested to my mind that I had better wholly avoid them.

“About the first of April, my distress of mind was so great, that I had no appetite for food, and could get but little rest by night or day. For about two months I rarely slept more than half an hour or an hour in the night. In several instances, I spent the whole night without sleep, in great agony of mind, looking one way and another for relief. At one of these times, my mind turned upon the subject of the truth of the Scriptures. I queried whether there was not some ground to hope that the Bible would prove to be false. It appeared that if I could believe there was, it would give me relief; but I could not for a moment. I knew and felt it to be the truth and the word of God, though I had no love for it. I could therefore find no relief; but was filled with such an apprehension of the miseries of the damned, that I thought I should lose my reason. My health was now brought so low, by means of the anguish of my mind, and want of rest, that I was obliged entirely to desist from labor, and apply to a physician. And as I viewed myself one of the greatest sinners in the world, I thought it likely God was about to take me out of the world, and destroy me as an example and warning to others. Indeed my distress was so great that I did not wish to live, and I began to be under temptations to destroy myself.

“Being at this time unable to attend public worship, I did not regret it; for preaching, or religious conversation, or whatever brought up the character of God, was exceedingly painful to me. I was unwilling also that my wife or friends should attend meeting, and I tried to prevent them; for I could not endure to have them or any others enjoy any comfort and satisfaction in religion. The happiness of others in religion, and the service of God, was a source of torment to me. I found also, as I thought, that I did not love my friends; and that I had not that regard and tenderness for my wife and child which I used to have. And whenever I heard of any person being of a good disposition, it would cause my heart to boil with a kind of envy.

“After I had arrived at this pitch, I would willingly have given ten thousand worlds, if it had been in my power, to have been deprived of my reason. My conscience stung me so that I should have been willing to change circumstances with a toad, or the meanest and vilest creature that ever was. I would have given anything to be put out of existence. I thought if I knew that thousands of years would end the miseries of hell, it would give me some relief. I thought if I could justify myself, and cast the blame upon God, this would relieve my distress. But I felt this to be impossible; and I saw my heart so opposed to God, that I concluded I was left by his Spirit, and was in an unpardonable state. A great part of the time, I was in total despair, and thought I felt as miserable as the damned. No one who has not experienced it can have any idea of the distress which I endured. I don’t think but that I could have sat down and put both my feet into the fire, and held them there, and bore the pain more easily than to bear what I did in my mind.

“I continued in this state of mind from the forepart of August till the latter part of September, or beginning of October. About this time, I began to entertain some hope that I was reconciled to God. I thought I could take pleasure in meditating on the divine character, and those doctrines of the gospel, which had once been so painful. It appeared that all God’s ways were right, and all his requirements reasonable, and that it would be the greatest happiness to be able to serve him. Soon after, I heard a sermon from the words, ‘My grace is sufficient for thee.’ It was a text and subject which came with great power and comfort to my mind; and it appeared now more than ever to be reasonable and desirable to submit myself into the hand of God, to be disposed of by him as he pleases.”

Upon being asked whether he could fix upon any particular time in which he was renewed and humbled, if ever—he replied, “I cannot; and I often have great fears that I never have been truly humbled. But, at times, if my heart does not deceive me, I feel a happiness in meditating on the character of God, and in the thought that I am in his hands, and that all things are at his wise disposal. And though for the most part, I indulge a hope in his mercy through Jesus Christ, yet I am sensible that in myself I am infinitely unworthy, and ill-deserving; and that it would be perfectly just and righteous in God to cast me off. And if this should be my portion, and it should finally appear that I had been left for my great wickedness, to deceive myself with a false hope, I could have nothing to say.”

Upon being asked what his present feelings were, towards careless, impenitent sinners, he replied, “I feel that they are to be pitied. It seems when I reflect upon it, as if I could not bear the thought of any one going on, and finally suffering such a hell as I have tasted. An eternity of such distress as I experienced for a time in my breast, by a view of the divine character, and the happiness of others in serving God, would be intolerably dreadful.”

This account will continue next week!

An account of a Revival of Religion in Farmington, Conn., in the year 1799

This is a selection from New England Revivals As They Existed at the Close of the Eighteenth, and the Beginning of the Nineteenth Centuries, compiled by Bennet Tyler in 1846. This relates various instances from the Second Great Awakening, recorded in the Connecticut Evangelical Magazine. It is shared to encourage believers to pray for a similar great work of God’s grace, to learn what characterized genuine conversions, and how pastors guided such individuals.

This account was written by the Rev. Joseph Washburn.

In the fall of the year 1793, and through the winter following, while the society was destitute of a settled minister, there appeared, as I have been informed, peculiar attention to the means of grace, and a hopeful prospect of a time of a great refreshing from the presence of the Lord. But the hopes of the people of God, were greatly damped, and the work apparently interrupted, by means of an unhappy contention which took place in the society, and which threw the minds of the people into a state of high irritation. But the good Spirit of God, though grieved, did not wholly depart; and about the time of my ordination, which was in May, 1795, an uncommon attention and seriousness became apparent throughout the society. The divine influences came down like the dew, and like the rain upon the mown grass, in still and gentle showers. The work was unattended with noise or enthusiasm—caused a general solemnity through the society, and met with little or no opposition. Within the course of about one year, fifty-five persons were added to the church.

In the fall of 1798, religion was apparently but little thought of except by some of the professed people of God, and even among them, an unusual degree of luke-warmness seemed to prevail. The distressing reflection now arose, that as we had been favored with a gracious visit of God, and had so soon grieved away his Spirit, it was to be feared that religion would now continue to decline for many years—and that if it should thus decline for ten or twenty years, as it had done for two or three, the situation of Zion, here, must be deplorable indeed.

At this time, God began to appear in power and great glory, in a number of towns in the vicinity, as he had done for a year before, in places more distant. An account of these things reached us, and became the subject of conversation among Christians; but it appeared to have little or no effect.

The first appearance of special divine power and grace, was in Feb., 1799. It began in an uncommon attention and concern among the people of God, in view of the situation of this society, and a disposition to unite in prayer for the divine presence, and a revival of religion.

Soon after this, numbers, in different parts of the society, began to inquire respecting the meetings, and expressed a wish to attend. This was considered an omen for good, and upon the encouragement which now began to appear, it was determined to open lectures at the meetinghouse, and at some of the school-houses, in the extreme part of the society. From this time, we had frequent meetings which were attended by great numbers. Persons of both sexes, and of almost every age, and many from the distance of four or five miles, and some still further, were to be seen pressing through storms, and every obstacle, to attend the meetings—such was their anxiety to hear the Word of God, and to know what they must do to be saved.

My house was also the almost daily resort of youth, and others earnestly inquiring respecting the things of their peace. The scenes were frequently very affecting. Persons from 12 or 15 up to 30 or 40 years of age, had just discovered, as to any realizing sense, that they were sinners. They felt, and in tears acknowledged, that they were under the condemnation of God’s righteous law—that they had, all their lives, neglected and despised a kind Savior, and trodden under foot, his blood. Those of the youth who were seriously impressed, now reflected on their former gayety, vanity and sinful amusements, with bitterness and entire disapprobation. They considered the customs and practices commonly followed by youth as very dangerous and pernicious—tending to exclude the thoughts of God and eternity—cherish vicious propensities—render the mind light and vain—and inconsistent with doing all things to the glory of God. An attempt which was made soon after the awakening commenced, to introduce a dancing master, and set up a school for the instruction of the youth and children in the art of dancing; and which, though, with much difficulty, at length, succeeded, had a happy effect on the minds of some of the serious youth, tending to increase their impressions. The open opposition, also, which was made by some, had a similar effect. It convinced them more and more, that madness is in the heart of man, and that God is just in condemning sinners and casting them off forever.

About one hundred have been so far impressed as to inquire seriously and anxiously respecting the way of life by a Savior, and to converse freely upon the state of their souls. Of these, about seventy have appeared to be under deep conviction of sin, and in great distress of mind.

Sixty-one have been admitted to the church within one year, namely: from August, 1799, to August, 1800. Several who have not made a profession of religion, have it in contemplation, and it is to be hoped that there are some others, who have become truly reconciled to God.

After this general account of the progress and extent of the work, a more particular statement of the personal views and exercises of those who have been the subjects, either of conviction or hopeful conversion, will be necessary.

In the first stages of concern, the subjects were generally most affected with particular sins, and not so deeply sensible of the plague of their own hearts. As the work of conviction proceeded, they obtained a clearer view of the spiritual nature and extent of the divine law, and a more realizing sense of the corruption of their hearts. It was generally the case with those under deep conviction, that they in a greater or less degree, experienced sensible enmity, and opposition of heart against the character of God—particularly his sovereignty in having mercy on whom he will have mercy, and hardening whom he will. There were several instances in particular in which a wise and sovereign God permitted the enmity and obstinacy of the carnal heart, to be manifested in an awful manner, and to an astonishing degree. While conscience like a gnawing worm preyed upon them within, a view of the divine character, and the way of salvation proposed in the gospel, excited the enmity of their hearts, and filled them with anguish; and every instance in which they saw any of their friends or acquaintance brought apparently to embrace the gospel, filled them with a kind of envy—with a pain which they could not describe.

With respect to the manner and circumstances in which the hopeful converts obtained relief, and the degree of their joy and peace, there has been a variety. Some few were very suddenly relieved from their distress, and filled with adoring, and admiring views of God and the divine Savior. But with respect to the greater part, they were brought very gradually to entertain a hope that they were reconciled to God, and did not soon attain to any considerable degree of rejoicing, or assurance of hope. The hopeful converts, in general, have appeared very far from a disposition to think highly of themselves, or their attainments in religion, and especially from a spirit of rash judging, or censuring others. They appear to be disposed to hope the best of others—to promote the good of all—to discharge relative and social duties—to attend carefully upon all the institutions of religion, and to manifest a tender regard for the salvation of souls, and the advancement of the cause of God in the world.

This account will continue tomorrow…