collegiate life, of the most honorable appointment which they had it in their power to confer. Being destitute of property, he engaged, for several months, in the business of teaching; after which he entered upon the study of theology, first with Rev. Mr. Strong, of Coventry, father of the late Dr. Strong, of Hartford, and afterwards with Rev. Dr. Smalley, of Berlin. Dr. E. was blessed with pious parents, who, he says, gave him much good instruction in piety and virtue, and restrained him from all outward acts of vice and immorality. He was the subject of frequent and deep religious impressions, almost from childhood; but seems not to have experienced a change of heart, until after he began to study for the ministry. The account which he has left us of his impressions and feelings, preceding and accompanying this most important change, is highly satisfactory, and must be given in his own words:

"It had always been my settled opinion, that saving grace was a necessary qualification for a church member, and much more for a minister of the gospel. Accordingly, when I began to read divinity, I began a constant practice of daily reading the Bible, and of praying to God in secret. With such resolutions, I entertained a hope that God would very soon grant me his special grace, and give me satisfactory evidence of this qualification for the ministry. Nor did I ever indulge a thought of preaching, unless I had some good reason to believe I was the subject of a saving change; for I viewed a graceless minister as a most inconsistent, criminal, and odious character. All this time, however, I had no sense of the total corruption of my heart, and its perfect opposition to God. But one night there came up a terrible thunder storm, which gave me such an awful sense of God's displeasure, and of my going into a miserable eternity, as I never had before. 1 durst not close my eyes in sleep during the whole night, but lay crying for mercy with great anxiety and distress. This impression continued day after day, and week after week, and put me upon the serious and diligent use of what I supposed to be the appointed means of grace. In this state of mind I went to Mr. Smalley's, to pursue my theological studies. There I was favored with his plain and instructive preaching; which increased my concern, and gave me a more sensible conviction of the plague of my own heart, and of my real opposition to the way of salvation revealed in the gospel. My heart rose against the doctrine of divine sovereignty, and I felt greatly embarrassed with respect to the use of means. I read certain

books, which convinced me that the best desires and prayers of sinners were altogether selfish, criminal and displeasing to God. I knew not what to do, nor where to go for relief. A deep sense of my total depravity of heart, and of the sove reignty of God in having mercy on whom he will have mercy, destroyed my dependence on men and means, and made me almost despair of ever attaining salvation, or becoming fit for anything but the damnation of hell. But one afternoon, when my hopes were gone, I had a peculiar discovery of the divine perfections, and of the way of salvation by Jesus Christ, which filled my mind with a joy and serenity to which I had ever before been a perfect stranger. This was followed by a peculiar spirit of benevolence to all my fellow men, whether friends or foes. And I was transported with the thought of the unspeakable blessedness of the day when universal benevolence should prevail among all mankind. I felt a peculiar compla cence in good men, but thought they were extremely stupid, because they did not appear to be more delighted with the gospel, and more engaged to promote the cause of Christ. I pitied the deplorable condition of ignorant, stupid sinners, and thought I could preach so plainly as to convince every body of the glory and importance of the gospel. These were my views and feelings about eight months before I became a candidate for the ministry."

The religious sentiments of Mr. Emmons, at the time when he entered college, were of an Arminian character; but of these he was thoroughly cured, during his collegiate life, by the instructions of a tutor, and by the study of Edwards on the Will. He left college a Calvinist, of the old school, and put himself under the instruction of Mr. Strong, who was known to be of the same sentiments. He was here directed to the study of Willard's and Ridgely's expositions of the Assembly's Catechism, and other books of the like stamp, by which means he became thoroughly grounded in the old Calvinistic explanations and doctrines.

Dr. Smalley was under the imputation, at this period, of having broached or advocated some novelties in religion; and why Mr. E. was induced to exchange the instructions of Mr. Strong for those of the "New Divinity" teacher, does not appear. The kind of intercourse which he held with his new instructor, and the effect which his teachings produced upon him, he has himself described; and the passage is too interesting to be omitted:

"When I first went as a pupil to Dr. Smalley's, I was full of old Calvinism, and thought I was prepared to meet the Dr. on all the points of his new divinity. For some time all things went on smoothly. At length he began to advance some sentiments which were new to me, and opposed to my former views. I contended with him; but he very quietly tripped me up, and there I was at his mercy. I arose and commenced the struggle anew; but before I was aware of it, I was floored again. Thus matters proceeded for some time; he gradually leading me along to the place of light, and I struggling to remain in darkness. He at length succeeded, and I began to see a little light. From that time to the present, the light has been increasing; and I feel assured that the great doctrines of grace which I have preached for fifty years, are in strict accordance with the law and the testimony."

It was while this doctrinal struggle was going on between. the teacher and his pupil, that Mr. E. was the subject of that deeper spiritual conflict which has been described above, The change in his theological opinions, and his supposed change of heart, were very nearly coincident.

Having become a convert to the opinions of his instructor, Mr. E. was destined soon to encounter another difficulty. In October, 1769, he appeared before the South Ministerial Association in Hartford County, to be examined for license to preach the gospel; when it appeared that several of the more aged ministers were opposed to his teacher's sentiments, and of course to his. He had a long and critical examination upon the disputed points; and when the question of his license was at length put, several of the ministers voted against it, and one remonstrated against it in writing. The difficulty between the ministers was afterwards adjusted; but the talk and bustle growing out of it served to render young Emmons (to use his own expression) "a speckled bird." After preaching as a candidate between three and four years,—one evidence, among many, that the most respectable candidates. did not find it easier to obtain settlements in this country, from fifty to a hundred years ago, than they do now-he was erdained over the second church in Wrentham, (now Franklin) Mass., in April, 1773. His pastoral relation to this people continued, without interruption, to the day of his deatha period of sixty-seven years; for more than fifty of which he discharged personally and statedly the duties of his office

SECOND SERIES, VOL. VIII. NO. II.

40

An eminent example this-and it may as well be noticed here as any where-of the benefits of permanency in the pastoral relation; and a strong rebuke of that spirit of restlessness and change, which has been superinduced upon the old steady habits of New England.

It has been often remarked, that there is ordinarily little of stirring, exciting incident to diversify the course of a parish minister, and give interest to the story of his life. His duties are of an even, uniform character. They succeed each other, from week to week, and from year to year, in much the same manner; and thus even a long life wears away-not indeed, if he is faithful, without great results, but without the occurrence of many unusual or striking events. This, which is true in general of gospel ministers, is thought to have been specially so of Dr. Emmons. His parish, though highly respectable in point of numbers and intelligence, was secluded and quiet. He had no change of location, either accomplished or seriously contemplated, to diversify the scene. His habits, too, were studious and retiring, he being seldom out of town, and but little abroad even among his own people. And yet there were incidents, in the course of his long life, of a trying and deeply interesting character.

Mr. E. was first married in April, 1775, about two years. after his ordination, to Miss Deliverance French, of Braintree. With this amiable companion he enjoyed much happiness, for the space of about three years, when she was taken from him by consumption, leaving him the father of two lovely and (as he thought) too dearly loved children. "I loved them," he says, "to excess; and God saw it was not safe, for them or for me, that they should long continue in my hands." They were suddenly seized, one after the other, with dysentery; and died, almost together, of that wasting disease.

"Thus, in one day, all my family prospects were completely blasted! My cup of sorrow was now filled to the brim, and I had to drink a full draught of the wormwood and the gall. It is impossible to describe what I felt. I stood a few moments, and viewed the remains of my two darlings, who had gone to their mother and to their long home, never to return. But I soon found the scene too distressing, and retired to my chamber, to meditate in silence upon my forlorn condition. I thought there was no sorrow like unto my sOF.

row.

I thought my burden was greater than I could bear. I felt as though I could not submit to such a complicated affliction. My heart rose in all its strength against the government of God, and then suddenly sunk under its distress, which greatly alarmed me. I sprang up, and said to myself, I am going into immediate distraction; I must submit, or I am undone for ever. In a very few minutes my burden was removed, and I felt entirely calm and resigned to the will of God. I soon went down, attended to my family concerns, and gave directions respecting the interment of my children. I never enjoyed greater happiness in the course of my life, than I did all that day and the next. My mind was wholly detached from the world, and altogether employed in pleasing contemplation of God and divine things. I felt as though I could follow my wife and children into eternity, with peculiar satisfaction. And for some time after my sore bereavements, I used to look towards the burying ground, and wish for the time when I might be laid by the side of my departed wife and dear litle ones."

This school of crushing affliction was a highly instructive one to Mr. E. It was good for him that he was called to bear the yoke in his youth. So he thought afterwards,

"I learned to moderate my expectations from the world, and especially from the enjoyment of children and earthly friends. I have scarcely ever thought of my present wife and children, without reflecting upon their mortality, and realizing the danger of being bereaved of them. And I have never indulged such high hopes concerning my present family, as I presumptuously indulged with respect to the family I have laid in the dust. I have likewise learned, by past painful experience, to mourn with them who mourn, and to weep with them who weep. I used to think before I was bereaved, that I heartily sympathized with the afflicted, at funerals; but I now know that I never entered into their feelings, and was a stranger to the heart of mourners. I now follow them into their solitary dwellings, and mourn with them after their friends and relatives have left and forgotten them. Their heaviest burden comes upon them while they are sitting alone, and reflecting upon the nature and consequences of their bereavements. This I now know was my case. How many painful hours did I experience in secret! And how many tears did I shed in silence! How dreary did my empty house appear! And how often did its appearance, after I had left it