Orwell Bible Church

Conclusion of a Brief History of the Baptist Church in Foxborough, MA

You can read the previous posts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, and Part 7.

THE PASTORATE OF 1869 TO 1879.

The sudden and unexpected termination of Mr. Spencer’s pastorate soon after the delivery of the Historical Discourse, makes it fitting that a fuller record of the events that marked his connection with this church should appear in this place.

The introduction of the Service of Song in the place of the Psalmist, in December, 1871, was designed to promote congregational singing, and the result has been a far more general participation by the people in this part of the Sabbath worship than was known before, and a better appreciation of pure psalmody.

The revival during the winter of 1874 is gratefully remembered as a season of great spiritual awakening in the church and in the community. It was manifestly a work of the Holy Spirit, and was traceable to no special instrumentalities or methods of work. It seemed to be the result of the faithful use of the ordinary means of grace—the ministry of the word and prayer. The revival followed close upon the annual Week of Prayer, to the surprise and great joy of both churches, which shared about equally in the fruits of the precious work of grace. Special meetings were continued for about seven weeks. The results of that revival season include not alone the forty-four persons that were added to the church by baptism, but also an infusion of new spiritual life and harmony in the church. The seasons of spiritual quickening that have since been enjoyed, though not so wide-spread, were rendered possible by the greater blessing of 1874. During the winter of 1875 the South Foxboro neighborhood was blessed by a special outpouring of the Spirit, in connection with the labors of brother Daniel Jones, since ordained to the work of the gospel ministry at Pocasset, Mass. Twenty-five persons were added to the church as a result of that work—an addition, bringing with it increased responsibilities and a call for wider sympathies and a more unremitting watch-care on the part of this church. The spring of 1876 and also of 1877 were both marked by special religious interest in this church and congregation, resulting in considerable additions to the church.

During the past four years, the pastor of this church has aided to sustain regular preaching in the neighborhoods of East Foxboro and South Foxboro, where a few earnest brethren and sisters had long carried on Sabbath Schools. Mr. Spencer inaugurated occasional preaching services in East Foxboro, Oct. 1, 1871. A Chapel has since been built in each of those neighborhoods by the united efforts of members of different denominations, and the pastors in the surrounding neighborhoods supply the pulpits.

One of the pleasant things to be remembered in connection with this pastorate is the visit of Rev. E. A. Stevens, D. D., and his son, with their wives, missionaries to the Burmans. Their temporary residence in this place brought the church into a fuller sympathy with Foreign Missions, and gave an impulse to the missionary spirit here, which ought to be permanent.

In the statistics of this pastorate given in the Discourse the following changes and additions should appear. There have been added by baptism one hundred and twenty-one; by letter thirty-nine; by experience thirteen; restored, two; total received one hundred and seventy-five. There have been removed by death, thirty; by letter, forty-six; by erasure, sixteen; and by exclusion, nine; total one hundred and one, showing a net gain of seventy-four. The number of additions has exceeded the entire membership of the church in 1869.

The interest of the church has been absorbed during the past year by the work of repairs and alterations in their house of worship. This work has been marked by a gratifying unanimity in interest and effort. Contributions have been received from one hundred and seventy-five members of the church and congregation varying in amount from twenty-five cents to hundreds of dollars, while substantial tokens of God will have also come from some who are not in any way connected with us.

The work of remodeling the church was put into the hand of a building committee consisting of William Carpenter, Deacon Elisha White, Henry T. Comey, William B. Crocker, with the pastor. The extent and cost of the alterations in the house are as follows: The entire building was raised two feet and four inches. The old laths and plaster of the entire interior were replaced by new. Additional space was gained for the vestibule and gallery by carrying the front of the church out against the pillars. The building was lengthened by an addition of eight feet on the rear, giving room for an ample pulpit platform and baptistery, a room for the pastor’s use on one side and an organ room on the other. Below, the additional space is occupied by two ante-rooms and a kitchen. The walls and ceiling of the auditorium were tastefully frescoed, the old windows were replaced by new ones made of stained cathedral glass, and the church was entirely refurnished with new ash pews, cushions, carpet and pulpit furniture. The rose window in the pulpit recess was given by the pastor as a memorial of his little daughter, Mary Lincoln, whose earthly life began and ended in his Foxboro home. The vestry was supplied with a pair of new furnaces and with new lamps. The house was re-shingled and painted, and the spire was strengthened by the addition of a strong new truss at its base. A new grade was established in front of the church and concrete walks were laid. The entire cost of the alterations was in round numbers $6600, of which about $5500 was raised by subscription and other means, leaving about $1100 to be raised.

This work was no sooner completed than the church was brought to face another change, little expected and deeply regretted by all. On the very day when the church was rededicated, the pastor received an intimation that this was not his rest. By the morning mail he received an invitation from the Baptist church in Waterville, Me., to visit them with a view to becoming their pastor. The visit was postponed for two weeks, but the result was a call to change his field of labor, which, after careful consideration, he did not feel at liberty to reject. His resignation was reluctantly offered amid expressions of profound regret on Sabbath day, March 2, to take effect the last day of the month.

Part 7 of a Brief History of the Baptist Church in Foxborough, MA

You can read the previous posts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, and Part 6.

In the Summer of 1854, Mr. Ripley announced his intention of leaving the first of September. He left behind him the warm regard of many, to whom his “able and faithful preaching, and his kind, Christian intercourse” had endeared him. He continued for some years longer in the active work of the ministry in various places; and finally, while residing at Hingham, he entered into rest, May 6, 1868, leaving but a few moments’ warning of his death.”

His successor, Rev. Isaac Smith, for twenty-three years pastor of the Baptist church in Stoughton, had long been favorably known to this church, and, indeed, had once before received a call to come here, which he had declined. This later call, however, he accepted October 2, 1854, and was enthusiastically received by admiring friends. He removed his family hither the first day of November, a tenement having been providentially vacated for them by the death of its occupant, at a time when no tenement could have been otherwise obtained for several months. Tokens of new life and prosperity soon appeared. A revival of unusual power was enjoyed during the following Winter. A debt of $1600, which had embarrassed the church for four years, was half paid off, and an unusual degree of liberality prevailed. It was a prosperous period in the history of the town. Improvements and enlargement were the order of the day. The Congregationalists had just built, in 1854, the handsome edifice in which they now worship. Rock-hill Cemetery had been set apart for its sacred use a year or two before. The Baptist church shared the spirit of improvement. In 1856, an organ was procured by dint of special exertions, the same instrument that we use today. Up to this time, the church had but one place for all its meetings, including those of the Sunday School, the place where we are now assembled. In the same year, 1856, a portion of the basement of the house was finished and fitted up as a vestry, the first of a series of improvements in that line, resulting in the pleasant accommodations now enjoyed by us on the floor below. In 1860, the need of better accommodations for prayer meetings led to the work of finishing the entire basement, thus giving a commodious room for the use of the Sunday School, and the social meetings of the church. This church shared in the great religious interest of 1857–58. The number of its members was increased to one hundred and ninety-nine.

The ministry of Dr. Smith in this place is of too recent date, and is too fresh in the minds of most of you, to require of me the attempt to set forth its character and results. Still I cannot be denied the pleasure of bearing testimony to the impression which his ability as a preacher, and his kindness as a friend and pastor, evidently made upon this church and community. During his pastorate of more than twelve years, the church acquired increasing power and influence. They had a leader inferior to none in this region, in ability to defend the truth. It caused them no little pain to lose his valued services. He was permitted to welcome to the membership of the church one hundred and six by baptism, thirty-two by letter and thirteen by experience, making a total of one hundred and fifty one.

He resigned the office of pastor January 3, 1867, and for about ten months, the pulpit was supplied by students from Newton, and other men. On Sunday, November 8, in the same year, you extended a call to Rev. Cyrus H. Carleton, who had for four years been pastor of the Baptist church in Buckfield, Maine. The call was accepted, and he immediately entered upon his labors among you. But they were destined to be brief. He gave himself earnestly to the work of a pastor, and was permitted, not only to sow good seed, but also to gather some fruit. But in less than a year from the time of his settlement here, consumption [tuberculosis] fastened upon him. “He preached his last sermon in August, and on Christmas night, he fell asleep in Jesus.” He is the only minister that ever died, in the service, in Foxboro. He sleeps in our beautiful cemetery, and, by his side, the child that was born to him in his Foxboro home.

Then, you turned to Newton students again for the supply of your pulpit. Mr. W. T. Chase, of the Senior class, might have been your pastor; but God had other work for him to do in Dover, N. H., and Lewiston, Maine.

My own acquaintance with you began in what may properly be called a providential way, with no special seeking on my part, or yours either. I well remember the pleasant Sabbath I first spent with you in March, 1869, little expecting that I should ever visit the place again, or that you would wish to have me do so. But the same Providence that brought me here as a temporary supply, ordered that this should be my home, and on September 2, in the same year, I began my pastoral labors with you.

And now, about this pastorate, of which I know the most, I shall say the least. I can do no less, however, than refer to the happy relations, which have always subsisted between us. If my pastorate here has been fruitful in any degree, it has been owing as much to your hearty and united cooperation with the pastor, as to anything in his words or methods of work. We have enjoyed special seasons of revival together, one especially, in the Winter of 1874, that will not soon be forgotten. It has been my privilege to give the hand of welcome and of fellowship to one hundred and seventy, of whom one hundred and twenty-one were received by baptism, thirty-five by letter, and fourteen by experience. We have for years looked forward with longing to the time when we might worship in a house refitted and beautified, and today we see the happy consummation of our hopes. We have passed through a year of strenuous endeavors and of anxiety, but we have come out at peace among ourselves. And now, with the blessing of the great Head of the church on our labors, we may reasonably hope to exert a greater influence and power for good than ever before.

As we- have seen, the history of this church presents little that is of striking interest. There has been nothing remarkable to record. Nor is there anything to regret in this fact. A quiet history is one of the results of harmony and discretion in the conduct of affairs. This church has never been given to hasty, impulsive counsels. On the contrary, it may justly be called somewhat slow and conservative. It does not take quickly to new methods. It clings to the things that have been tried and proved. It has always believed in the permanency of the pastoral office, as is shown by the fact that during the fifty one years in which it has had pastors, forty-nine years were consumed in five pastorates, a fact, which is, no doubt, as much to the credit of the church as to that of its pastors.

The Roll of all the members, who have been for any time connected with this church, comprises six hundred and seventy-four names, of whom four hundred and forty-nine were added by baptism. Of the whole number, one hundred and twenty-nine died in the fellowship of this church. What memories of faith and patience, of simple piety and tried fidelity, their names suggest! Some of you have known them all. You remember the devout and unassuming piety of Ezra Carpenter, the minute-man of the Revolution, and the ready follower of Christ as well. You will never forget Deacon Torrey, whose sturdy faith rose above all difficulties, and of whom his pastor, Mr. Ripley, once said, “It is my deliberate conviction that it is chiefly owing to his patient efforts from year to year, his unconquerable energy, and unsparing liberality, that the Baptist church in Foxboro has lived and prospered.”’ And with his name you couple that of Nehemiah Carpenter, whose reputation for sterling goodness and unselfish devotion to Christ and His cause is still fresh and fragrant. “Good as gold” is the universal comment on his character, in view of which our hearts echo the inspired saying: “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches.” You remember Deacon Whittemore, whose little confidence in himself only rendered more conspicuous his confidence in Christ; and at his side that cheerful saint, mother Whittemore, affectionately zealous for souls and loving the church to the last. And what can I more say? For time would fail me to tell of Elijah Pratt and Timothy Morse, of Betsey Comey and Clarissa Comey, of Susan Allen and Patty Allen and other men and women, who labored in the gospel, whose names are in the Book of Life. Other names, still borne on earth by those who were long associated in labors with the sainted dead, leap to the lips, but propriety forbids me to utter them. We know them and love them, and rejoice that they are with us today to behold the fruit of their labors.

In closing this sketch, the imperfections of which no one knows better than I do, I would simply hold up before the church of today its past history, and point to its lessons and bright examples. Remember the patience of your elders, amid sore trials and discouragements, and their steadfast adherence to truths which were unpopular. Remember their reliance on the old and tried methods of Christian work, on the faithful preaching of the gospel, accompanied by the earnest prayers and labors of the church. Remember their self-sacrificing devotion to the church they loved. Remember the spirit of harmony that reigned among them, and kept them a united band, strong even when they were weakest. And with such memories filling the past, hope may well inspire us with fresh zeal to enter into the larger opportunities that open before us.

And now our labor of love is completed. The House of the Lord is ready for His gracious entrance. Now let the King of Glory come in, and let the cloud of the Divine Presence descend and fill the place. May He who dwelleth not in temples made with hands, whom the, heaven of heavens cannot contain, much less this house which we have builded, consent to dwell here with the poor and contrite heart, that trembleth at his word. And let us listen for the word of the Lord saying, “I will be the glory in the midst of her.”

To be concluded next week…

Part 6 of a Brief History of the Baptist Church in Foxborough, MA

You can read the previous posts here: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5.

The church was fortunate in securing a successor to Mr. Tingley, without any long waiting. He preached his last sermon, August 6. 1837. During the remainder of that month, the pulpit was supplied by Rev. Caleb Shute of Boston. On the third of September, Rev. Silas Ripley preached here the first time, and in the following month he became your pastor.

Of his labors for this church much more might be said than I have the time to say. His connection with you, including two years’ interruption, extended through seventeen years. Many changes occurred in the circumstances of the church during his long pastorate. He had been here but a few months, when the church was much weakened by the withdrawal of thirty-four members, to form a new church in Mansfield. That church was organized June 6, 1838. This movement, though cordially agreed to by the mother church, drew off one third of her active members, and probably more than one half of her pecuniary strength. It rendered necessary, or at least, hastened another movement also.

The site for the meeting-house had been chosen partly with reference to the convenience of the southeastern portions of the church, which the successive swarms to Norton and Mansfield had drawn off. It was now deemed best to seek a more central location for their house of worship. It was accordingly moved up into the village. The Records of the church give no account of this removal, but tradition has preserved an interesting report of the vote that decided the action. It was a measure of which it was easy enough to see the necessity, but for which no one wished to take any degree of responsibility. A church meeting was appointed, to consider the matter. On the day appointed, no one appeared except Deacon Torrey and Nehemiah Carpenter. After waiting a long time, until it was evident that no more members were coming, Deacon Torrey, in his straightforward way, said to the other, “Brother Carpenter, is it our duty to move this meeting-house?” The brother mildly replied that he thought it ought to be done. “Then,” said the deacon, in his blunt fashion, “We’ll move it.” And the next day saw the work begun under Deacon Torrey’s supervision. In moving the house such a distance, it was necessary to saw it in two, and move each portion separately on wheels, which provoked the remark from someone not over friendly to the church, that, “now they’d got the Baptist meetin-house on wheels, they’d better keep it on wheels and run it out o’ town.” Instead of doing that, however, they moved it to one of the finest lots in the village, a gift to the church by Mr. Nehemiah Carpenter. It was the lot now occupied by the Town Hall and Centre Schoolhouse. The building was enlarged by the addition of twelve feet to its length, and the basement was finished off as a vestry, the work being carried forward by the strenuous efforts and generous sacrifices of all. The further fortunes of that building may be briefly stated here. It stood on its new site for about twelve years longer, until a new church was built on this spot in 1850. It was then sold at auction, moved over into Gilmore Street, and transformed into a box-factory. Finally, in the evening of January 27, 1876, the last vestige of the old Baptist meeting-house was swept away by the most disastrous fire that ever occurred in our village.

The first pastorate of Mr. Ripley closed in June, 1841. For about a year, the church depended on supplies, mainly from Newton. In May, 1842, Rev. Edwin B. Bullard responded, to their call, and became their pastor. He remained only one year, and then resigned, to accept an appointment by the Missionary Union. He was a man of deep religious earnestness and intense zeal. His preaching was direct and pungent, and his labors were crowned with success. The church was revived, and souls were saved. He was permitted to baptize twenty-two persons during his brief sojourn here. In May, 1843, his connection with this church ceased, and he was transferred to a wider field. As a missionary to the Karens of Burma, he threw himself into the work with a fiery zeal, which soon consumed him. He died of cholera at Maulmain, April 5, 1847, at the age of thirty-three.

Rev. Silas Ripley was called to succeed him, and entered immediately upon his second pastorate here. Though neither of his pastorates was signalized by any great revival, or by large accessions to the church, still his labors were of the most useful and necessary kind. His work here was one of training and pruning and cultivation. He was patient, thorough and methodical. His preaching was sound and instructive. He commanded the respect, and won the love, of his people. He was a good man and a genial friend. The growth of the church was slow, but steady, under his leadership. To use his own words, “though favored with no extraordinary degree of prosperity, it was enabled to hold on its way and maintain its position.”

We can only glance at the principal events and changes worthy of note in this period. In 1843, the old parsonage was sold, and steps were taken towards building a new one in a more convenient location. The work was completed near the end of 1844. Deacon Torrey appears as the chief promoter of this work, as he had been of all the building enterprises upon which the church had entered up to that time.

In 1844, August 11, we find the church voting to introduce the Psalmist, as their hymn-book. Up to that time they had used the old collection denominated Winchell’s Watts. It may be added just here, that the Psalmist was superseded by the Service of Song, December 17, 1871.

Was there ever a village church, whose serenity was not at some time disturbed by restless boys? We find in the Records of 1844 a pointed reference to “certain lads, who have occasioned considerable disturbance in some of our meetings of late.” A committee was appointed to “look after” them, consisting of Deacon Torrey, Henry L. Sweet, Alfred Fales, Seth Sherman and Deacon Whittemore. The Records give no account of the result, but it is my opinion that a solemn stillness, if not a holy calm, came over those lads, under the eyes of a committee composed as that was.

A curious entry occurs in the Records of 1845, showing the pastor’s quiet sense of humor. The church had agreed unanimously to adopt the recommendation of the Association, to observe the last Wednesday in October as a day of fasting, humiliation and prayer, on account of the low state of religion in the churches. “Only the pastor was present,” he remarks, and then adds, “It was well attended.”

We come to the year 1849, and find the church again stirred up to the work of removal and enlargement. The old meeting-house had served its purpose, and must give place to a more modem structure. A wise policy, convenience and comfort, all urged the congregation to arise and build. Still the pecuniary ability of the church was small. Not only the house was sold, to raise the necessary funds, but it’s beautiful site as well. The parsonage too was sold, and great exertions were made to meet the expense of a new lot and building. A faithful and efficient Building Committee, consisting of Deacon Torrey, brethren Henry D. Aldrich and Alfred Fales, was entrusted with the work, and on the fifteenth of August, 1850, this house was dedicated to the worship of God. The pastor preached the sermon, and was assisted in the services by Rev. N. G. Lovell, of North Attleboro, Rev. E. C. Messinger, of Medway, and Rev. James W. Russell, of Cumberland Hill.

The next year, the church, in the exuberance of its joy at being settled in a new and comfortable home, invited the Association to enjoy its hospitality. “The session was one of great harmony and religious interest.” A gracious work of the Holy Spirit followed in the Autumn and Winter of 1850 and 1851. Not many were added to the church, but the cold and sluggish life of the church received a new, divine impulse.

To be continued next week…

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

This is the second part of the account with part 1 here and part 2 here.

Another person, rising of 20 years of age, gave me a narrative, of which the following is an abstract.

“My advantages have been great from a child; and I have often had some concern of mind respecting religion; but nothing very special, till the time of the religious attention in this society four or five years ago. I was then considerably impressed, but my concern soon left me in a great measure, and I lived in a state of carelessness and stupidity, till the beginning of the fall of 1793. About this time, a solemn providence was made the means of alarming me, and awakening my attention to my spiritual condition and prospects. My anxiety for a time was great; but it was not long before I began to entertain a hope that I was in a safe state, and was much relieved. But soon I became convinced that I was in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity; and that my hope had been without any just foundation. My anxiety, therefore, returned, and continued more or less till the winter following. In February, before any appearance of uncommon attention in the society, my conviction and distress of mind greatly increased.

I had a clear sense of my sin, and experienced sensible opposition of heart to God, and to the doctrines of the gospel which I heard preached. I was convinced of their truth, and yet hated them. Often when I have heard them held up with plainness, in the house of God, on the Sabbath, I have wished that I could be absent. To be obliged to sit and hear things so disgusting, and which I knew to be the truth, was exceedingly painful. The Bible also, was to me a most odious book. I could not endure to read it. Every page appeared to be against me. While in this situation, I looked on every side for relief. I fled to everything for refuge, but to God. For a time I strove hard to disbelieve the doctrines of the gospel. I searched diligently to find arguments against them—particularly the doctrine of the endless future punishment of the wicked. I listened to the arguments of the Universalists—I endeavored to persuade myself that God was such a merciful being that he never would punish any of mankind, or at least, not with endless punishment whatever might be their treatment of him, and of his Son in this life. But all was in vain the Scriptures were decisive—and I was obliged to acknowledge the necessity of religion, and of an interest in Christ, in order to any true peace in this, or another world. Accordingly I set myself very earnestly as I thought, to obtain it—labored hard to make my heart better, and to recommend myself to the Savior. But finding all attempts of this kind fail, and finding that the opposition of my heart increased, I fled for refuge to antinomianism [Christians have no law they are to obey]. I thought it must be impossible for a sinner to love God, as long as he supposed his sins were unforgiven, and that God was his enemy. I, therefore, endeavored to think that Christ had died for me, in particular, and that my sins were all pardoned;—hoping that if I could persuade myself of this, it would give me peace, and be unto me according to my faith, or as I now view it, my vain self-flattering. But I was not permitted to wrap myself up in this delusion. I next attempted to persuade myself that there was no such thing as free moral agency, or accountability, nor any distinction between virtue and vice—but that mankind were mere machines, actuated by a blind and fatal necessity. But I was unable to reason myself into a belief of this. I had a consciousness of sin and guilt which I could not throw off. I felt my desert of misery, and of the perfect reasonableness of my being required to give my heart to God. My heart, however, was still opposed,—his character and conduct I did not love—especially his leaving me in this situation when he was able to deliver me, and did deliver others, and give them hope and comfort. And whenever I heard of any particular instance of this, it caused the opposition of my heart to rise very high. I was told that I must submit. I attempted to do it, and to flatter myself that I did submit—But my submission would last no longer than till the character of God came clearly into view again. After these things, I had a lively sense of the hypocrisy I had been guilty of in everything I had been doing—that in all my strivings, I had had no sincerity or regard to God ; but had been actuated in everything by perfect selfishness—that all my cries to God, had been mere mockery—flowing from a heart totally opposed to him—that in every prayer I had made for the Holy Spirit, God had seen that it was not from the heart; but that my heart and words were at perfect variance. Never before, had I such an idea of the plague of my heart, or of the sensible enmity against God, which an awakened sinner may be the subject of. My distress was now such that 1 thought I could not endure it. I slept but little; and whenever I awoke from sleep, my distress and anguish came upon me in a moment. I used to think that if I could be relieved for a few moments, it would be more tolerable. But I had no relief—and what added exceedingly to my distress, was the thought that it would probably not only be constant, but forever.

“But notwithstanding all my distress, I greatly dreaded the thought of falling back into my former stupidity—being convinced that if I was given up to carelessness, I should perish, and that the light and conviction I had resisted would greatly aggravate my condemnation.

“After continuing a while in this state, doubts began to rise in my mind, respecting the divinity of the Scriptures. I questioned whether the Bible was the word of God, and I even sometimes harbored the thought that there was no God. This, when I came to reflect upon it, increased, if possible, my distress. I viewed it as an evidence that I was left of God—and that I was about to be given up to delusion to believe a lie. I now began to despair of ever being brought to repentance. And for a considerable time, except at intervals, I chose death rather than to continue in life. I thought there was no happiness for me in this world, nor in the next—and that the longer I lived, the more intolerable would be my future misery. In these dreadful moments of despair, the most shocking temptations would rush upon me, urging me to destroy myself. But through the mercy of God, I was preserved from a compliance with them.

“While under these temptations, and during all the time of my greatest distress, I was very careful to conceal my feelings and exercises. For this purpose, I kept much alone, and endeavored to avoid conversation as much as possible. I felt ashamed, and afraid to let the state of my mind be known—judging from my own former views and feelings respecting such things, that were I to relate what I had experienced, no person would credit me ; and that I should be considered either as delirious, or disposed to deceive. I am now fully convinced that my conduct, in this respect, was unwise and injurious. Had I freely opened my mind to some person acquainted with the exercises of sinners under conviction, and the devices of Satan to destroy them, I might have been much relieved under the despair and temptations I experienced, and perhaps wholly prevented from falling into them. But God is wise in all he has permitted to take place. And he is infinitely merciful; or when I was thus guilty of the heinous sin of despairing of his mercy, I should have been immediately destroyed.

“It was several months after I began to be delivered from that despair and peculiar distress which I have mentioned, before I entertained a hope that the enmity of my heart was subdued. I fix not on any particular time when this took place, if ever. I am far from being confident respecting myself. I know the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Yet, for the most part, I entertain a hope, grounded upon the submission and peace which, if I am not deceived, I sometimes find in contemplating the character of God, and the Savior, and the truths and precious promises of his Word, and in a desire to be conformed to his holy will.”

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!