As I enjoyed the friendship of my people without interruption, so I was happy to see them in peace among themselves. They were undisturbed by any religious controversy, until the year 1772, when the baptistical controversy arose, which, for a short time, gave them some disquietude, and me some concern.

Some years before my settlement, a baptist society had been formed in that part of this town, which was afterward the second parish. They had settled a minister of public education, respectable talents, and a liberal mind; the Rev. Edward Upham. A few members of the baptist society belonged to my parish. The society being small, his support failed, and he removed to Newport. The second parish afterward settled a minister, under whom both denominations united with apparent cordiality. The members of the late baptist church covenanted with their pedo-baptist brethren to commune at the same table. In 1772 Mr. Upham returned to occupy a farm, which he owned in the place. At the instance of some of his former hearers he resumed his ministerial functions, in consequence of which there was a considerable defection from the second parish; and three, or four families within my parish, who had been his former hearers, now attended his ministry. He preached, a few times, at private houses in my parish, and administered baptism to two or three subjects. On these occasions he introduced the baptist controversy. At the same time, pamphlets in opposition to infant baptism and sprinkling, were industriously circulated among my people; particularly Anonymous letters to Bishop Hoadly. I felt it my duty to preach on the controversy. The sermons which I preached were soon published at the desire of my people, and have been several times re-published.

The people who withdrew from my ministry, shewed no bitThey appeared to act on principle; they treated me with friendly respect, occasionally attended my meeting, requested

terness.

my presence in their family afflictions, and always seemed to be gratified by my visits. Such as survived Mr. Upham's ministry, returned to enjoy mine. One of them, I recollect in particular, requested the assessors to assess him in the parish taxes, for, he said, he wished to aid in supporting the gospel, where he enjoyed it. He desired communion with our church, to which he was cheerfully and unanimously admitted.

Those baptists in the second parish, who had covenanted to commune with the pedo-baptists, were stedfast in their covenant. The church, thus composed, remained unbroken, even after the parish was almost in a state of dissolution. The baptists in this town appeared, in that day, to be generally men of candour and integrity.

While the baptistical controversy was existing among us, a gentleman from a respectable town, at some distance, then vacant, conferred with me to know, whether I would accept an invitation to settle in that town. Though the question was unexpected, I needed no time to deliberate on an answer. I told him, I felt my insufficiency for the place mentioned to me; at present I perceived no disaffection to me among my people; I was decently supported by them; and my removal at the present conjuncture, however lucrative to myself, might be peculiarly dangerous to them; I therefore thought it my duty to stand in my lot.

The paper currency, which in 1775 began to be emitted for carrying on the revolutionary war, subjected me to the same embarrassments, which were experienced by many of my brethren. My salary being reduced to a small pittance, I was obliged to attend to agricultural cares and labours more than I chose. My ministerial labours were also increased by frequent conferences and lectures, and by the pastoral visits, to which a sickness prevalent for three successive seasons, indispensably called me. And my health began to be sensibly impaired. In the beginning of

the year 1778, the small pox became so rife in my vicinity, that I judged it prudent to innoculate myself and family, as none of us had had the disease. In March we went into the hospital. We all had the disease favourably. But not considering the debility naturally consequent to the disease, and to the regimen during its continuance, I immediately resumed my ministerial labours, which were much increased by instances of danger and mortality in the hospitals, where no other minister could attend. I soon felt my constitution yielding; in August I wholly desisted from my work. In December I had, by journeying and other means, regained so much strength, that I ventured into the pulpit; but after about four months, my complaints returning, I took leave of the pulpit, little expecting ever to stand and speak there again. However, after about eighteen months, I had collected so much strength, that from a seat in the meeting-house, I spake to my people about fifteen minutes; but by that time I was so overcome, that, leaving the assembly to pray and read among themselves, I retired to my house and to my bed. Feeling no lasting injury from this short exercise, I ventured to repeat it, and by October was able to perform one short service in a day.

My people were now in a state of great tranquillity, faithfully attending at God's house, patiently hoping and waiting for my recovery, satisfied with my poor and short performances, and such better supplies as I sometimes procured for them, and, when both these failed, accepting the pious and charitable labours of the deacons and other christian brethren. But in this encouraging period, there was an occurrence which much disturbed the harmony of the people, and probably retarded the return of my health.

Toward the end of October, 1780, a John Watkins came into the parish, and began to preach in its extremities without my knowledge. He came originally from England, but directly from France, in an American ship, on board of which was a young

man of my parish, with whom he there contracted an acquaintance. He professed to have had the charge of a large congregation in England-to have been a warm advocate of the American cause—to have suffered much by pleading and writing in its defence to have left his country, flock, family and interest, and to have fled hither, that he might escape the rage of political persecution. He made great pretensions to piety, called himself a disciple of Whitefield, talked much about his conversion, expressed great indifference to the world, an ardent affection to my people, an anxious concern for them in their destitute condition, and an earnest desire to serve the interest of their souls. He brought no credentials from England; but imputed the omission to the precipitancy of his flight in a moment of danger, having by force effected an escape from a king's ship, on board of which he had been impressed by the direction of the officers of government, to prevent his influence in favour of America. (But though his flight was so sudden, I found that he had leisure to collect and bring with him large parcels of manuscripts.) He exhibited some testimonies, that he had sometimes officiated as a chaplain on board the ship, in which he came from France.

The defect of credentials was easily overlooked in a man of se much patriotism, piety and benevolence; especially under the existing circumstances of my people. He was invited into the pulpit to supply for a single Sabbath. Some who heard him, wished to hear him again. He soon was hired, by desire of the parish, to supply for a number of Sabbaths. His manner of preaching was vehement and vociferous; but his matter generally crude and unconnected. There were some good observations, which seemed to be delivered from his manuscripts; but there was much trash and error, of which the judicious hearers gave him the credit. He appointed frequent lectures and conferences in different parts of the parish, and seemed to prefer evening exercises. He

acted as officially as if he had been the settled minister of the parish; I was seldom consulted, and seldom seen by him, except on the Lord's day. He laboured to disaffect the minds of my people to me, and in some instances he was for a time successful. In those whom he thought friendly to him he endeavored to excite prejudices against such as he judged to be otherwise. In short he acted in the genuine character of an impostor.

After he had preached in the pulpit seven sabbaths, and also a thanksgiving, on which his performance was more intolerable than usual, the dissatisfaction of the people became so apparent, that he abruptly left the pulpit, and set up a private meeting, on which a small number attended for a short time. But he proceeded not far, "for his folly was made manifest to all men ;" and he withdrew, and went where he could find a place.

He, however, left some minds soured with the prejudices, and tinctured with the errors, which he had infused by his preaching, especially by his private lectures and conferences. He had publickly and privately reviled the standing ministry-had taught that every saint has a right to preach, who can find hearers-that saints certainly know each other's hearts, and all whom they cannot fellowship are unregenerate-that the church ought to admit none to communion, but those whom she knows to be regenerate, and none ought to offer themselves to communion, but they who know themselves to be such-that, in scripture, besides the literal, there is a mystical, spiritual sense, which none but saints understand, and which is immediately communicated to them by the spirit of God, &c. &c. And these sentiments some had imbibed.

A few of the members withdrew from the church. A committee was appointed to confer with them. The reasons which they assigned in justification of their conduct were, "that the church was impure, discipline lax, the unregenerate were admitted and retained." In this period I hired supplies for the pulpit, and de

D