natives of the same place. Of the || one of his hands was disengaged, it early history of his family, but little is known. It may, however, be observed, that his father was attached to the military service, and rose to distinction in the then Colonial army. He died whilst his son was an infant. By was occupied with a book. these habits of incessant application, he very early acquired a stock of valuable though miscellaneous information, which, combined with strong powers of original thinking, seemed in youth to mark him out for unusual eminence. At this time, the advantages of education were much less exten The family of his mother was remarkable for talent. She was one of eleven sisters, all of whom were distinguished for unusual acquire-sively enjoyed in New-England ments, and for powerful intellect. She was also a woman of eminent piety; and it is to her early instructions that the church of Christ is indebted for much of the usefulness of that son, whom from a child she brought up in the nurture and ad-resided, he was generally selected monition of the Lord. It cannot be expected that much should be recollected of the early history of a man, who has outlived so many of the companions of his childhood. So far as any thing, however, can be known, the traits of character for which he was in manhood remarkable were very early developed. From very infancy, his temper was noticed for its unruffled serenity. His mother used to observe, that never did she but in one single instance know him to betray any signs of impatience ; and when on this occasion she expressed her surprise, he instantly replied, "Mother, I am not angry." Another trait for which his childhood was distinguished was love of justice. Even in his boyish sports, he was always the enemy of oppression, controlling the strong and supporting the weak. And yet this sway was exercised so mildly, that among the playmates of his infancy he obtained the blessing of a peacemaker. than at present. Schools were more rare, and the mode of instruction palpably defective. As a proof of this, it need only be remarked, that when Dr. Baldwin removed to Ca|| naan, N. H. where he afterwards on the Sabbath to read a sermon to the people who assembled for public worship, because he was the only young man in the town who was sufficiently educated to perform this service acceptably. The mention of this fact is sufficient to show how strong must have been his early bias towards intellectual improvement. It will tend to show how soon the most striking traits of his character were exhibited, if we add, that those who knew Dr. Baldwin in youth have remarked, that he was then peculiarly noticed for the sprightliness of his wit. Though always innocent and always unoffending, it was frequently pungent, and always in point. Those who were in the habits of familiar intercourse with him, will well remember that rich vein of most playful good humour, which was at times discoverable until his latest day When Dr. Baldwin was about 16 years of age, his mother, who was now the second time married to a very worthy and pious man by the He very early discovered a taste name of Eames, removed to Cafor reading. Not only did he de- naan, New-Hampshire. He removed vote every leisure moment to the with the family; and this became improvement of his mind, but also for several years the place of his consecrated to this object the hours residence. The town was yet unof labour. Whenever his employ- settled, and the waggons which inents were of such a nature that || transported their necessary baggage were the first that ever traversed | afflicted widow, we shall make no the forest. Mr. Eames was by trade a blacksmith, and to this business, as is usual in the early periods of a settlement, he added another, that of a miller; and if we mistake not, that also of a carpenter. In these labours he was assisted by his stepson, who until his marriage lived constantly at home, enduring the hardships and sustaining the privations peculiar to early settlers. At the age of 22, on the 22d of September, 1775, he was married to Miss Ruth Huntington, of Norwich, Conn. with whom he was happily united until her death, Feb. 11, 1812. apology for introducing it at once to our readers. We do this with the greater pleasure, not only be cause, in a very simple dress, it presents some of the most interesting events in the religious history of its much beloved author, but also because it gives us an unusually vivid idea of the manners and customs of that part of New-England at the time of our revolutionary contest. The autograph Memoir commences as follows: "In the year 1780, I have reason to hope I was brought to the saving knowledge of the truth. The methods by which this change was effected I will endeavour to state with as much particularity as may be necessary in this place. "Before I proceed, I would, however, just remark, that I have no reason to believe that I had ever been the subject of such religious impressions as many others have during my early years. I had indeed a general conviction of the reality of revealed religion, and that I had no lot nor part in it. When, however, my conscience accused me of living without God and with The town of Canaan was rapidly peopled by emigrants from Connecticut and Massachusetts. Before he was 30, Dr. Baldwin was elected to represent it in the General Court. Of his reputation as a legislator we have no certain information. It is evident, however, that his success was such as to gratify his constituents; for they repeatedly re-elected him. If we mistake not, they did not cease to choose him, until, feeling the importance of his ministerial labours, he had decidedly expressed his determination to serve as a leg-out hope in the world, I was usuislator no longer. ally able to pacify it by promises of future amendment, or by recurring to the plea of inability. Often when I had spent an evening until a late hour in mirth and dancing, when I came to lay my head upon my pillow, the thought of sudden death would intrude into my mind. Such questions as these would often force themselves upon me: "What if you should die before morning ?" We are happy to have arrived at a period in this Memoir, at which we are enabled to refer to a manuscript written by Dr. Baldwin himself, during the few last years of his life. It commences with the relation of the events connected with his religious experience, and abruptly terminates with the time of his arrival in Boston. As it is numbered "Memoir No. 2," it is probable that either the former part was written and has been irrecoverably lost, or else that the author commenced with that part which most deeply interested him, with the intention of completing the beginning at some other period. This narrative comprises about ten years of his life; and as it has been very kindly placed in our hands by his What if the judgment day should come?" The answer was, 66 I am unprepared for either." These thoughts at times caused me to weep freely. But perhaps when the morning returned, all was forgotten. Although I resolved at some future time to be religious, (for I supposed I could be religious at any time) yet I never fixed that time as near at hand. There al cus. ways appeared some peculiar ob- ||ion, of his obligations to God, anfi stacles in the way, and some sinful of the consequences of disobedipropensities to be indulged, before ence, and yet live in wilful neglect I could think of being religious.of every duty; pursuing the course Thus I lived from year to year, in which he knows the Eternal God a state of awful security and forget- has forbidden, because if he did fulness of God. otherwise, man might laugh at him. "My conscience frequently ac- Well did the Saviour say of such cused me of the sinfulness of my men, "I know you that ye have heart and conduct; but such were not the love of God in you ;" and the charms of pleasure, that I could aptly did he allude to one great not persuade myself to give them cause of their disobedience, in that up. Yet while in this vain pursuit question, "How can ye believe, after the pleasures of the world, I who receive honour one of another?” was often forced to serious reflec- || And we would ask, Do not the pretion. At times, I appeared to my- ceding paragraphs delineate very self to be awfully hardened, and exactly the moral condition of many have thought, when walking or rid-of our readers, and of a very large ing alone on a dark evening, that || portion of those who, with very reI really wished a light from heaven spectful attention, hear the gospel to shine around me as it did around every Sabbath day? But to resume Saul, when on his way to Damas- the narrative:— At other times, I have had "In the month of November, such a sense of my miserable con- 1777, God in his holy providence dition, that I thought I should be was pleased to take from me my willing to suffer a severe fit of sick-first-born by death; a dear little ness, if it might be the means of son between six and seven months bringing me to God. These feel- old. This painful event was renings were, however, only transient,dered more distressing, both to me and the moment they subsided, the and my dear companion, by the same rage for vanity would return.circumstance of my being absent "One reason which induced me at the time. ad left my family to be willing to suffer sickness or eight or ten days before, all in ususome other calamity from the hand al health; and when having accomof God, was, a foolish dread of plished my business, and returning what the world would say of me. home, was met by a friend, who "How," said I to myself, "should informed me that my child was I become religious, could I hold up dead and buried. my head before any of my young companions, who might inquire what was the occasion of my being so dull." I thought I could never have fortitude enough to tell them I was concerned about my precious soul. What a pitiful excuse for living in sin!" T "As oppressed with grief I rode silently homeward, the thought struck me,-"This is the voice of God to call me to repentance. What excuse can I now have? Under the appearance of mourning for my child, I may become religious, and no one will know it. Accord Here we trust we shall be excu-ingly I set myself about it, and for sed for interrupting for a moment the first time, attempted to pray in the course of this interesting nar- my family. I felt very solemn, and rative, to remark how simple and thought I was very sincere. I conaffecting a discovery is here made cluded I should never more yield of the depravity of the human heart, my heart to vanity as I had done and its total alienation from God. before. My devotion was continWe see how a man can be perfect- ued morning and evening; and I ly convinced of the reality of relig- believe for the space of two or three weeks, I was never seen to smile. I remember that once I felt much remorse, after having, in an unguarded moment, been surprised into laughter. At the same time indulging serious reflections, I was not unfrequently much affected. But, alas! it was only the sorrow of the world. The impression made upon my mind by the death of a darling babe, began gradually to wear away. no effect either upon my heart or life. I was also fully aware that Christians possessed something of which I was destitute. They told of joys and sorrows which I had never felt. "In the month of September, God in his holy providence sent two Baptist preachers into the town. They preached several lectures, and spent one Lord's-day in the In a little time my neighbourhood. Several persons seriousness was gone, and I return-appeared greatly alarmed by their ed to my wonted cheerfulness and preaching. I thought they were gaiety. good men, but too illiterate to edify me. I however felt very solemn ly under their preaching, and perceived that others felt yet more than myself. Some professors of religion were very much aroused, and several young persons were very deeply impressed." "All that now remained of my seriousness that had the appearance of religion was, a mere lifeless formality in prayer. I look back with shame and remorse to this period of my life, when, notwithstanding my constant but unmeaning prayers, I lived in the eager purDr. Baldwin proceeds to mention suit of the vanities of the world, the increased solemnity which restonly with perhaps a little more con-ed upon his mind whilst attending cealment than I had formerly done. several religious meetings, which I had early imbibed a thirst for hon-were held about this time in the our. I knew this could not be grat-neighbourhood. The narrative then ified without preserving a fair rep- continues: "In the evening there utation. But such was my love of was to be a conference at a private gay company, mirth and dancing, house. I attended. The meeting that I went as far as my respect for was opened by prayer; after which character would at all permit. I two persons came forward and told tremble to think of the temptations what God had done for their souls. and snares which then beset my One of them, a sensible and well path. But for the restraining pow-informed man, gave a very striking er of a merciful God, I had certainly been ruined. "In the summer of 1780, my mind became at times very uneasy. I had serious thoughts about religion, yet did not feel determined to set about it in earnest. I had a decided conviction that there must be a change of heart, or all the outward forms of religion would be unavailing. I would often ask myself, what is meant by being born again? I remember once having attempted to take refuge in this. It is said, Whosoever believeth that Jesus is the Christ is born of God. I believe that Jesus is the Christ; am I not therefore born of God ? But I perceived that my belief had account of his conversion to God. Almost the whole assembly was in tears. I felt very tenderly, but in a great measure refrained from weeping. Soon, however, after this a moving scene commenced. A very pious man came, and falling down on his knees before me, addressed me as follows-Neighbour Baldwin, can you forgive me, can you forgive me, that I have lived so little like a Christian, and that I have set no better an example before you!" I trembled like Felix, and replied, "I have nothing against you more than I have against my own soul." He followed these remarks with the most solemn entreaties and feeling exhortations to turn unto God and live. Although || perienced great tenderness, and of in my proud heart I had resolved ten both in public and private wept never to shed a tear in public, all bitterly. my resolutions were utterly unavailing. In spite of every effort, I trembled and wept, and changed my seat to avoid observation. My extreme agitation, however, soon discovered itself. Several persons | spoke to me; many rejoiced and many were affected at seeing that my mind was impressed. When asked to state my feelings, I could only say with Agur, "I am more brutish than any man, and have not the understanding of a man. I thought I earnestly desired conversion; but how to attain it, how to obtain an interest in Christ, I did not know. I at first apprehended I should in some way have a discovery of Christ on the cross, and that this would give me comfort. Again I thought I was now so distressed, that God would soon give me relief. I cried; but, alas! all seemed in vain. Although I had continued my cold, pharisaical prayers from the time before mentioned, yet till this night I had never conversed with my family on the subject of personal religion. But now I entered with seriousness into the subject; and after disclosing my feelings, expressed my resolution, that let others do what they would, I was determined to seek the Lord. I found much tenderness in attempting to pray before retiring to rest. I had some concern lest these impressions should leave me, and my mind become yet more hardened than before. I awoke before the day dawned, and found my mind still deeply impressed. I cannot say as many have, that I strove to shake off my convictions; on the contrary, my great anxiety was to increase them; for this was the way in which I was looking for deliverance. My distress continuing day and night, I began to hope that God had begun the work, and that he would carry it on. At times I ex At "I was satisfied that my prayers were exceedingly defective. They appeared so sinful, that I thought God would not regard them. But as Christians appeared to be in earnest for me, at times I was encouraged to believe that God would hear them in my behalf. Although I was not called by name, yet I thought I knew when they presented my case before the Lord.* one of these seasons of prayer, it seemed to me that my case was wholly neglected. I was ready to say with David, "Refuge faileth me, and no man careth for my soul." I concluded that if the saints were not permitted to pray for me, my case was desperate. Despondency seized me, and I began to fear that all was over with my soul. Yet at times I could not but hope, that God would at some time or other bring me out of this distress, and that I should yet praise him. All "My distress did not arise so much from the fear of punishment, as from a sense of having abused divine goodness and mercy. my hopes from any thing in myself seemed to vanish. I had been accustomed to think that I was not so great a sinner as some others, because I had been addicted to no degrading vice. But I now saw that my morality, fair as it had appeared, was most wretchedly defective; and that my prayers had been no better than solemn mockery. I greatly feared that my repentance was not genuine; that it the author was not mistaken. An aged *In this supposition it is probable that minister by whom Dr. Baldwin was baptized, once mentioned that several Christians in the neighbourhood, observing his had agreed together to make his conver promising talents and amiable disposition, sion a special subject of prayer. This agreement was formed while he was yet thoughtless, and we may well suppose that their desires were strengthened when they saw so pleasing a hope of their ful filment. |