gregations, and my friends down town would look upon me as one who had come to take part against them, I should find myself in a condition truly deplorable. On the various points connected with this subject, I want light, and, my dear brother, I want light from you.

When I resigned my charge into your hands, little did I expect to return and take part with you in your ministry. Nor do I yet know that this is the will of heaven. Newark has not ceased to be the dearest place to me on earth; but I am not my own. From some motions of divine providence I have been led to suppose that that might become my duty. And if it is my duty, I can freely say it will be no act of selfdenial. The particular circumstances which have led to this way of thinking, you in part know, and will know more fully when I have the pleasure to see you. In the mean time I will thank you to open your whole heart to me, and to pour all the light you can upon the present state and future prospects of Newark, relative to the points referred to above. Pray let me hear from you soon. I expect to take a journey early in March; if you write soon I shall receive your letter before I set out. Mrs. G. joins me in most affectionate salutations to Mrs. Richards, and yourself, and to the whole family.

Your friend and brother,

REV. J. RICHARDS.

MY DEAR BROTHER,

E. D. GRIFFIN.

Boston, April 15th, 1815.

I received your fraternal letter of the 28th of February, on my return from Connecticut the 3rd of April, and thank you for your frank and candid remarks. I had written, before my journey, to Mr. Boudinot, and if I am not mistaken, requested him to show the letter to you. That letter will have convinced you that the providence of God, and no unreasonable fickleness, or despondency in me, has suggested the purpose of my return. I have felt unhappy in one view of my return. If from the attachment of some of my old friends, it should operate to render your condition any less pleasant, it would

136

RESIDENCE AT ANDOVER AND BOSTON.

distress me, not only from my long continued friendship for you, but especially because I was instrumental in your removal to Newark. It will be, I hope, my aim, however, to render your situation no less pleasant than it was when you first came, and have no doubt of reciprocal friendship from you. And with such a union as has always subsisted between us, added to a sufficient degree of prudence, I hope we shall prevail to heal all the divisions which now exist. I believe we shall. There are really no rival interests. There are people and property enough for two congregations, and I hope in time to see a third. This was my hope before I concluded to leave the town. The idea of ministering to the whole town was oppressive and overwhelming.

Since my return from my journey to Connecticut, I have applied to the church and congregation for a dismission. Both bodies have given their consent, and voted to continue my salary till the last of May, though the council for my dismission should be sooner convened. After this consent I consider myself at liberty to announce my acceptance of the call. I will therefore thank you to inform the presbytery in my name, at their April meeting, that I consider it my duty to accept the call, and do hereby accept it; and pray them to appoint a time for my installation, as soon as they, and the congregation choose, after the first sabbath in June. The first sabbath in June I hope to be in Newark. Mrs. G. joins in affectionate regards to Mrs. R. and yourself and family. I am, my dear brother, your sincere friend,

REV. J. RICHARDS.

E. D. GRIFFIN.

Agreeably to the intimation contained in the preceding letter, Doctor GRIFFIN's resignation of his pastoral charge received the sanction of a mutual council, April 27, 1815; though he continued to officiate as pastor till the last sabbath in May. He arrived in Newark with his family the first week in June.

CHAPTER V.

HIS SECOND RESIDENCE AT NEWARK.

Doctor GRIFFIN was installed pastor of the second Presbyterian church in Newark, June 20, 1815.

Toward the close of the year 1816, a general attention to religion commenced in both congregations in Newark, and extended to several of the neighboring towns. During this revival Dr. G. was abundant in his labors, and was privileged in due time to gather in a precious harvest.

Under date of March 27, 1817, he writes in his diary as follows:

A day of private fasting and prayer agreed upon by both churches in the town, to implore the continued influences of the Divine Spirit. Having of late years entered more largely into the public business of the church, I have spent too little time in my closet, and in consequence find that it is not so easy today to fix my thoughts in these private exercises as it formerly was. It is my desire from this time forth to return to the more full practice of private devotion, and to a renewal of my journal.

I have tried the world; I have been too much devoted to honor; but I found it all vain. Never was I so restless and unhappy as when most elevated in view of the world. I was Vol. I.

18

tired of such public life, and longed to retire. I have retired, and during the year and nine months which I have spent here, have been the most tranquil that I ever was in any situation. Convinced by experience of the vanity and even torture of worldly distinction, I seem to have given up all desire for it. I am sure I would not exchange my present seclusion for any more public sphere that could be offered me. My trials, I trust, have not been in vain. For more than six years past, (the former part of which was the most trying period of my life,) I think I have been enabled to obtain an ascendancy over some of my constitutional sins. If I do not deceive myself, I have of late years become more conscientious in regulating my feelings towards my neighbors, in avoiding resentments when I am injured, and in studying the things which make for peace. I think I am more vigilant against the collisions of selfishness; less bigoted in favor of a party, and can more truly rejoice in the advancement of religion in other denominations around me. I have far less distressing conflicts than I had in former years. At the same time I have far less exalted ideas of my own sanctification. Some things are certainly improved within me, and yet I have a more steady sense of my general poverty and short coming.

Afternoon. I found a greater sweetness in secret prayer than I had felt for years, a tenderness and enlargement in praying for this people here, our sister congregation and its minister, my late church in Park-street, my friends and my enemies generally in Massachusetts. I found a new state of mind, and discovered that some displeasure at the past treatment I had received, though it had not awakened resentment, had hardened my heart against old acquaintance and caused me to find little pleasure in thinking of them. But now I felt the cloud all removed, and wished to visit them, and longed for their prosperity, as though they had been my flesh and blood; and in regard to those who were near, my heart melted over them, and it was my earnest prayer that this day, when the christians of both congregations are in their respective closets, might break up forever whatever selfish jealousies and unkind

feelings may exist between the two sister churches. I feared that the rough treatment I had met with from the world, had soured my mind towards mankind, and that my love of retirement arose partly from this cause. I clearly perceived and felt that love would do away all feelings like never wishing to have any more connexion with a particular place. Never, never let me feel this again towards any place or any individual. How will love unite us to all and every one, as to our dearest child. Scarcely ever had I a cloud taken off from the whole world so suddenly and so sensibly. I felt a tender wish to write to acquaintances in different places, with whom I had for a considerable time wished to have no further intercourse. I found that love would cure at once all past troubles, and sweep them from the world as though they had never been; and that if I could continue to feel so, I should at once be restored to the bright skies of former years, before the storms arose. I perceived that the most effectual way to get the better over every injury was to forgive. I learned to prize more than ever these days of private devotion, for I found that this season had removed wrong impressions which had rested on my mind for two or three years, which, till I felt the change, I had not perceived were wrong. LET ME NOT FAIL TO

KEEP THESE DAYS OF PRIVATE DEVOTION.

I was enabled heartily to forgive and pray for all men, even those who had wronged me most, and then I felt that the middle wall of partition which had been long between Christ and me, was taken away. I had forgiven all, and then he had, as it would seem, forgiven me. While I held them off, unwilling to have intercourse, he held me off, unwilling to have intercourse. I had not hated them as an enemy, and he had not hated me as an enemy. Just the measure which I meted to others, he meted to me. I never felt before the full amount, in this respect, of that petition, "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." In the latter part of the afternoon my mind was unusually fixed and drawn out in prayer; and all my prayers were directed to Christ. The hymn, "Jesus, lover of my soul," was more precious to me