to thin his flock; though it was considered by the few solid church members as the best expedient which the circumstances of the case would admit.

At the commencement of the second year all was to begin anew. With a good deal of difficulty, however, a congregation was organized in what is now called Mercer county, with as much formality as their distance from other regular churches, and other disadvantages, would admit.

They had three places of worship, which were known by the names of Danville, Cane-Run, and the Forks of Dick River; and though circumstances were far from being promising, Mr. Rice considered himself as called by the head of the church to preach the gospel and dispense other ordinances within these bounds, and leave the result to the decision of the great day.

CHARACTER

CHAPTER X.

OF SOME OF THE FIRST PREACHERS IN KENTUCKY.

Or his first fellow labourers in Kentucky Mr. Rice says, "They were men of some information, and held sound principles, but did not appear to possess much of the spirit of the gospel. Upon this my spirits sunk pretty low, verging on a deep melancholy." A melancholy prospect indeed to a pious mind. Like priest, like peo

ple-genuine piety scarcely discernible in either-the spirit of the world animating all.

Not finding much of the power of religion among own denomination, he began to look to other denominations to see if things were any better there. "The Baptists," says he, "were at this time pretty numerous, and were engaged in some disputes among themselves about some abstruse points, which I suspected neither party well understood. About the same time two Methodist preachers came to the country, who, though they were rather passionate in their addresses, they seemed to be men of tender catholic spirits, and advocates for good morals. For some time their coming encouraged and revived me, in some degree, but as soon as they had gained a little footing in the country they began to preach what they called their principles, that is, those doctrines which distinguish them from other societies. This, so far as I could learn, produced its genuine effects -a party spirit and alienation of affections among the people. This sunk me into my former melancholy. To me it appeared that all our religious societies, Presbyterians, Baptists, Methodists, &c. &c. were in a fair way to destroy both the spirit and the practice of religion, and sink it into contempt. And as we are naturally inclined to look to means and instruments rather than to him from whom alone help must come, I was often rea dy to cry out passionately, O for the Tennents, the Blairs, and the Dayieses, to come and preach to us in Kentucky!"

About this time an old disciple, Mr. Gano, of the Bap. tist church, came from the state of New-York. Mr.

Rice had been formerly acquainted with his character, and was rejoiced at his arrival. He at length preached within about four miles of his house. "I heard him," says he, "with great avidity and satisfaction. He appeared to preach the gospel in its native simplicity, with honest intention to promote the glory of God and the good of men. He preached in the neighbourhood a second and a third time, and still in the same spirit. To me he appeared as one of the ancient Puritans* ris en from the dead.”

REFLECTIONS.

EVEN good men are sometimes mistaken as to the piety of those with whom they have intercourse. Considerable allowances are to be made for natural dispositions, for early habits, and for a change of the state of society. The apostles, Paul, Peter, and John, were equally pious and equally devoted to the service of their Master; yet they were of very different natural dispositions, and this diversity gave a character to all their ministrations.

The state of society in Kentucky was in 1784-5 remarkably different from the state of society to which

*The term Puritan was first used as a term of reproach, It has however ceased to carry with it any thing but respect and affection with all who have the least affection for evangelical truth. The Puritans were a set of pious men, and were as faithful propagators of the gospel as ever adorned the British nation. They were the first settlers of NewEngland.

Mr. Rice had been accustomed for ten or fifteen years among the Peaks of Otter. In Kentucky both preachers and people, even those of them who were pious, assumed a new character, from the fact of their having been thrown into a new situation. And some time was necessary for those who were of similar habits and similar tempers to form a profitable acquaintance.

But with all these and similar allowances it must be remembered that the want of regular ordinances, particularly the want of regular Sabbath sanctification, the being removed from under the eye of those under whose inspection we formed our religious character, and the being not actually under the influence of the government and discipline of the church; these facts, wherever they exist, have a most unhappy influence upon both preacher and people-upon those who have made a profession of religion, and upon those who have never made any profession—and these were likely the causes which produced the effects of which Mr. Rice complained.

CHAPTER XI.

SECRET EXERCISES.

DURING the above, or immediately after the above transactions, Mr. Rice experienced a set of soul exerciscs, which he supposed were in a great measure peculi

ar to himself. When he preached abroad or prayed in bis family, his heart was more affected than usual. The truths of the gospel appeared to him to be valuable important, and excellent, but as soon as he stepped from the pulpit or rose from his knees, his mind was overcome with its usual gloom, and filled with sceptical doubts. His prayers, though they seemed ardent, were on re.. flection considered by him to be only the lamentations of despondency.

These exercises continued alternately for a considerable time, and affected his natural temper, which, though naturally not very irritable, became peevish and fretful. On a certain day he had preached some distance from home, but returning in the evening, found something amiss in his domestic concerns, and immediately felt his passion rising. This he was enabled to suppress by following a rule which he had long adopted, viz.-"To say nothing when angry." He considered anger as a species of madness, and a madman was, in his opinion, unfit either to speak or act. "I therefore," says he, "withdrew to a solitary place, where, walking backwards and forwards, I did not disbelieve, but doubted the reality of my religion, and the religion. of my fellow professors, the immortality of the soul, and a future state, nay, the truths of the scriptures and the very being of a God. I saw that such a creature as I was fit for nothing. It grieved me to think that I was the husband of a valuable woman-the father of a rising family of promising children-and the minister of three congregations. I felt a disposition to exclude

my