that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." May the Lord make you the father of many spiritual children in that dear section of the great family!

I find it not in my power to visit Newark this spring; but, God willing, I firmly intend to bring Mrs. G. next spring. I cannot leave my people so long at present. There are some appearances which I must stay at home to watch. The latter part of February I was so much encouraged that I instituted a conference exclusively for persons under serious impressions. Precisely thirty have attended; four or five of whom, I trust, have become real christians. I have conversed with some others out of doors whose minds are tender. Our meetings generally are certainly more solemn than they were. But the church, with a few exceptions, are still asleep. We expect to admit twelve new members, (with, and without certificates,) at our next sacrament. We admitted twenty-seven the last year, from the first of March to the first of March. Brother, pray for us.

I have had very affecting news lately from my brother in New-York. He and his friends believe him to have become a subject of grace. I know you will rejoice with me, and help me praise the Lord for his great goodness. I hope my brother may be of some little service to the common cause in this day of agitation in that city. What are they doing? What aileth them? Who has stirred up all this strife? Do write me all about it. The whole camp appears to be alarmed. There certainly is fear, combined with some rancor.

*

*

Is the land of Jersey shaken with the earthquake? Do the steeples of Newark totter? Is your head upon your shoulders? How is dear brother Hillyer? I long to have a long brotherly letter from him, and to see him in Boston. Give my very particular love to him, and tell him all this. Mrs. G. joins in most affectionate remembrance to Mrs. Richards and yourself, with your friend and brother,

E. D. GRIFFIN.

MY DEAR BROTHER,

TO THE SAME.

Boston, May 2d, 1812.

Having written to you so lately, I have nothing new to write. But I cannot let so favorable an opportunity pass without dropping you a line-perhaps a sheet full.

I rejoice exceedingly to hear of the favorable symptoms in some of your towns, and in New-York. I hope strongly that the God of 1802 and 1807 will make 1812 (the space of five years in both cases) a day of his power in those twenty congregations. Is it not just the time, my dear brother, to revive your preaching tours? God has blessed them twice; may he not bless them the third time?

In regard to us, things remain much as when I wrote last. Thirty-four have attended our Tuesday evening conference, under serious impressions; but the church, with few exceptions, are still asleep. Our congregation, gathered from all parts, with habits formed under cold preaching, present a cold spectacle, much unlike the congregation of Newark. They must be melted down into one mass by an electric shock from heaven. God send the shock in his own time!

I thank you for the notice you take of my dear brother's case. It has affected me most deeply, as you may well suppose. I wish you could see him some time when you are in New-York. He needs help from you. I wish he may be thoroughly grounded and settled in the truth, and lend his aid to support orthodoxy in this day of agitation.

*

*

*

I have lately become one of the overseers of Cambridge College. About the time of my coming here the Socinians got a law passed by our Assembly to exclude the Senate from the board, except the President, (under pretence of keeping out democracy,) to disfranchise the six towns, whose ministers were ex officio members of the board, and to give power to the board to fill up its own vacancies. The chief object probably was to keep out those orthodox ministers who might, in this turn of times, be settled in said towns. Last winter the democratic Assembly repealed the law, in their

own vindication, and Mr. Thacher and I rode in upon their shoulders. I hope I never may have a worse horse!

Mrs. G.. joins in most affectionate regards to Mrs. Richards and yourself, with, dear Sir,

Your cordial friend and brother,

TO THE SAME.

E. D. GRIFFIN.

Written immediately after hearing the melancholy tidings of the death of Mrs. Cumming, wife of Rev. Hooper Cumming, who was instantly killed by being precipitated down the falls of the Pasaick.

MY DEAR BRother,

Boston, July 1st, 1812.

I received your letter of last week and read it with such sensations as you can easily imagine. The dreadful account had reached us before. I immediately wrote what I could to our poor afflicted friend. The mysterious dispensation has produced a strong impression here. Your letter has been read to numbers; it has been borrowed and carried out of the house; a copy of it is now taking by an aunt of Mrs. Cumming. Many tears have flowed, and many prayers have ascended for the bereaved husband. How mysterious are the dispensations of providence! We must bow ourselves to the earth, and say, His ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts. What a comfort it is, amidst the confusions of this trying life, to know that infinite wisdom keeps the throne, and well knows what he is doing! The sea may rage, our shattered bark, amidst the darkness of night, may rise to the clouds, and plunge to the centre, but our Pilot is at helm. Were it not for that, we should never hope to see morning more. But with that protection we shall ride safely through the rage of elements, and the confusions of a disjointed world, and enter a haven secluded from the storms. It was never a matter of more joy than at the present moment that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

MY DEAR BROther,

TO THE SAME.

Boston, May 2d, 1812.

Having written to you so lately, I have nothing new to write. But I cannot let so favorable an opportunity pass without dropping you a line-perhaps a sheet full.

I rejoice exceedingly to hear of the favorable symptoms in some of your towns, and in New-York. I hope strongly that the God of 1802 and 1807 will make 1812 (the space of five years in both cases) a day of his power in those twenty congregations. Is it not just the time, my dear brother, to revive your preaching tours? God has blessed them twice; may he not bless them the third time?

In regard to us, things remain much as when I wrote last. Thirty-four have attended our Tuesday evening conference, under serious impressions; but the church, with few exceptions, are still asleep. Our congregation, gathered from all parts, with habits formed under cold preaching, present a cold spectacle, much unlike the congregation of Newark. They must be melted down into one mass by an electric shock from heaven. God send the shock in his own time!

I thank you for the notice you take of my dear brother's case. It has affected me most deeply, as you may well suppose. I wish you could see him some time when you are in New-York. He needs help from you. I wish he may be thoroughly grounded and settled in the truth, and lend his aid to support orthodoxy in this day of agitation.

*

I have lately become one of the overseers of Cambridge College. About the time of my coming here the Socinians got a law passed by our Assembly to exclude the Senate from the board, except the President, (under pretence of keeping out democracy,) to disfranchise the six towns, whose ministers were ex officio members of the board, and to give power to the board to fill up its own vacancies. The chief object probably was to keep out those orthodox ministers who might, in this turn of times, be settled in said towns. Last winter the democratic Assembly repealed the law, in their

own vindication, and Mr. Thacher and I rode in upon their shoulders. I hope I never may have a worse horse!

Mrs. G. joins in most affectionate regards to Mrs. Richards and yourself, with, dear Sir,

Your cordial friend and brother,

TO THE SAME.

E. D. GRIFFIN.

Written immediately after hearing the melancholy tidings of the death of Mrs. Cumming, wife of Rev. Hooper Cumming, who was instantly killed by being precipitated down the falls of the Pasaick.

MY DEAR BRother,

Boston, July 1st, 1812.

I received your letter of last week and read it with such sensations as you can easily imagine. The dreadful account had reached us before. I immediately wrote what I could to our poor afflicted friend. The mysterious dispensation has produced a strong impression here. Your letter has been read to numbers; it has been borrowed and carried out of the house; a copy of it is now taking by an aunt of Mrs. Cumming. Many tears have flowed, and many prayers have ascended for the bereaved husband. How mysterious are the dispensations of providence! We must bow ourselves to the earth, and say, His ways are not as our ways, nor his thoughts as our thoughts. What a comfort it is, amidst the confusions of this trying life, to know that infinite wisdom keeps the throne, and well knows what he is doing! The sea may rage, our shattered bark, amidst the darkness of night, may rise to the clouds, and plunge to the centre, but our Pilot is at helm. Were it not for that, we should never hope to see morning more. But with that protection we shall ride safely through the rage of elements, and the confusions of a disjointed world, and enter a haven secluded from the storms. It was never a matter of more joy than at the present moment that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.