CHAPTER III.

HIS FIRST RESIDENCE AT NEWARK.

Immediately after resigning his pastoral charge at New-Hartford, Mr. GRIFFIN returned with his family to Newark, accepted the call which had previously been given him, and on the 20th of October, 1801, was installed Colleague Pastor with the Rev. Dr. McWHORTER. The congregation over which he was placed was one of the largest and most respectable in the United States; qualified in every respect to estimate the labors of a most eloquent, gifted and devoted minister.

For nearly three years from April 1799, Mr. G. seems to have kept no record of his private religious exercises, owing probably, in a great measure to his having been, during a part of the time, in an unsettled state, and for some time after he went to Newark, greatly burdened with care. He resumes his journal under date of January 30th, 1803, as follows:

Spent the last week on a preaching tour, in the neighboring congregations, where a glorious work of God's grace appears to be beginning. Have been deeply impressed of late, with a conviction of a great mistake which I made in some former revivals. My mother's children made me the keeper

of their vineyard, but my own I did not keep. Being often engaged in public prayers, I thought it was neither necessary nor practicable to attend so much at large to the duties of the closet. And when I preached or heard preaching, I was so concerned for others, that I did not sufficiently apply the truth to myself, and my prayers were so much upon others, that I did not enough pray for the promotion of religion in my own heart. The consequence was twofold: I got away from God, and the duties of the closet have never been so faithfully attended since; and further, I was lifted up by divine favors, and had need to be left to fall into sin to humble me. But lately I have resolved more to seek the advancement of religion in myself, while I endeavor to promote it in others, and have desired to be converted, and to catch the shower which is falling around me. Lord, while thou art converting sinners and infidels, and giving thy people a fresh unction, I pray that I may be the subject of these renewing influences, whether I have ever felt them before or not. I desire to consider myself only as a needy sinner, and to put myself in the way of these influences which are shed down upon others. O why may I not be converted by them, as well as those around me?

February 5. I have just been reading a most admirable piece, recommending the dispersion of religious tracts. The writer possesses precisely those views of the superior importance of laboring for the soul, which I have generally had. It has inflamed my desire to add the dispersion of such tracts to my other attempts to promote (what I now hope I can say is my favorite object) the salvation of men, the advancement of that beloved cause which it cost the Saviour so much to establish. O to employ every faculty during life, and to seize every new measure to promote this object. To have pious tracts to carry out with me when I walk or ride abroad, or when I take a journey,-how would it tend to keep my heart, to keep my eye, on the great end of life, and to increase my usefulness. My soul swells at the prospect. O this is such a life as I desire. I thank God for the new impression. I pray that it may lead to great good. I pray that it may never sub

side, but be increased, until it fixes me in the unalterable habit of striving for usefulness in this way. It is now in my heart to endeavor to engage others in this measure. Lord, if this impression is from thee, and is designed to lead to the promotion of a religious tract society, O give me wisdom, smile on the design, and open a way for its accomplishment, and may this impression lead to the salvation of thousands.

February 14th. I have been set upon conversing more with my family. I find it is the best, yes the very best, remedy against my greatest dangers. If my soul were set on the salvation of my house, probably salvation would come to them, and we should have a little heaven below the skies. I most earnestly desire thee, O God, whilst thou art making me the instrument of good to others, to indulge me with the happiness of seeing thy power rest upon my poor family. O why may not we be sharers in thy salvation which is so profusely bestowed on others? I feel a strong desire, and see the necessity, to support unremitted watchfulness, prayer and dependance on the strength of Christ, and to commit my salvation more into his hands. I think I feel more humble and dependant, and more of a christian temper than for years past. I clearly see that Christ can enable me to overcome temptation. The keeping of the saints amidst their dangers and fears, is by him who supports the mountains, and whose faithfulness changes not. To him I commit myself, rejoicing. I see by what wondrous measures he is now delivering me from my enemies which were too strong for me. He will deliver and make me a monument of his heaven-astonishing grace. I have been lately wishing to be taken up by some mighty power, and get forward at once very far in my journey, so as to have little to do afterwards to arrive at perfect sanctification. But this is a fruitless hope. I am enlisted in a warfare, and every inch of ground must be taken sword in hand. Those corruptions which are constitutional will live with me, and die only with me. They will trouble me through life. The only remedy is to live near to God. This alone is the water which will quench the fire. The moment I get away from him,

they will always stand ready to harrass me and drive me back. Divine enjoyment, spiritual pride,—falls, humiliation, prayer,-elevation,-enjoyment,-pride,-falls,-humiliation, &c. &c. must be my round through life. I have lately found that I ought to turn my heart and soul more immediately to Christ, and like others, (of whom I have lately read,) mourn for the feebleness of my love to Christ. Could I rest more on him, I might support habitual pleasant contemplations, which render the mind more like God. I should then look less on perplexities, and fix my eye less on my miserable depravity, although I should not see it less. I have given up my worldly matters into the hands of Christ, and while I am caring for his interest, I see he is caring for mine. By some merciful interpositions, I see he may be fully trusted for my daily bread, and I think I can leave the rest with him.

If I know any thing of my heart, I am sure that I care more for the success of my ministry than for any worldly interest. And upon a review of my life, I must be confident that the three strongest desires which have habitually influenced me for years, are (1.) To be delivered from sin. O if this could be, I could bear any thing, and be happy in poverty and disgrace. (2.) To enjoy God. I think I surely long more for this than riches or honors, and would give up every thing for it. (3.) That God's kingdom may come. When I hear of any appearance favorable to Zion, my heart is glad. I would rather be an instrument in promoting this interest than to wear laurels for learning, eloquence, &c. I think I have had and daily have, fair opportunities to make the experiment. Since I have been in this place, I am more than ever convinced that I am spoiled for the world, that I cannot live on popular breath or the estimation of the gay. I cannot live confined to their society. The company of the pious, though poor, is far sweeter. I must have the conscience of good people on the side of my preaching, or all the applauses of the world are irksome and terrifying to me. I must have christians for my companions, and cannot live in the world. I know I have a dreadful body of sin struggling within me. I know that pride has much

influence in my best public duties, and has more influence on my deliberate and habitual conduct than any other wrong af fection; but I think it does not govern. Still I ought to be cautious. My zeal to propagate the truth may be a proud and wilful desire to support my own sentiments. From the zeal which appears in politics, and among the most corrupt sects in the christian church, it is evident that this is one of the most powerful principles of the natural heart. And when I see the worshippers of Moloch flaming with zeal for their god, and sacrificing their very children to him, my heart says,What zeal, what sacrifices, what willingness to resign up a child to God, can I depend on as evidence of true religion?

February 26th. Yesterday I sensibly felt for a moment what boldness and fortitude in preaching would result from disinterested humility, that should be perfectly indifferent to the good opinions of others as a personal honor; and saw how different was the assurance of a self-confident spirit; and had a glimpse of the principle which rendered the meek and humble Jesus so intrepid.

Monday, February 28th. Yesterday I went to the house of God under a great sense of my own unworthiness, and fearful of making attempts at eloquence, lest I should be influenced by pride. I endeavored to speak with all the simplicity and sincerity of one who had no regard to the opinions of men, any farther than not to injure the cause of religion, and I found myself much assisted, although I depended much on extemporaneous exertion. I found a solemn sense of divine things more beneficial, even to render my services acceptable, than all the flourish of affected zeal and eloquence. Let this remove the objection, that if I should become unstudious to please, I should lose my influence and degrade the gospel.

I have lately been so fearful of selfishness and pride that I have scarcely dared to move. I now see that their motions have been as constant as the palpitations of my heart, and have exerted an uninterrupted influence on my external conduct, sometimes to spur me forward to zeal in the line of duty, sometimes to hold me back and to weaken my exer