"The French revolution burst upon mankind at this moment. Here was opened an ample field for the labors of these abandoned men in the work of pollution and death. There is no small reason to believe, that every individual Illuminee, and almost, if not quite, every infidel, on the continent of Europe, lent his labors when he could—and his wishes when he could not for the advancement of the sins and the miseries which attended this unexampled corruption. Had not God taken the wise in their own craftiness, and caused the wicked to fall into the pit which they digged, and into the snares which their hands had set, it is impossible to conjecture the extent to which they would have carried their devastation of human happiness. But, like the profligate rulers of Israel, those who succeeded regularly destroyed their predecessors.

"Between ninety and one hundred of those who were leaders in this mighty work of destruction, fell by the hand of violence. Enemies to all men, they were, of course, enemies to each other. Butchers of the human race, they soon whetted the knife for each other's throats; and the tremendous Being who rules the universe, whose existence they had denied in a solemn act of legislation, whose perfections they had made the butt of public scorn and private insult, whose Son they had crucified afresh, and whose word they had burnt by the hands of the common hangman, swept them all, by the hand of violence, into an untimely grave. The tale made every ear which heard it tingle, and every heart chill with horror. It was, in the language of Ossian, "the song of death." It was like the reign of the plague in a populous city. Knell tolled upon knell; hearse followed hearse; and coffin

rumbled after coffin; without a mourner to shed a tear upon the corpse, or a solitary attendant to mark the place of the grave. From one new moon to another, and from one Sabbath to another, the world went forth, and looked after the carcasses of the men who transgressed against God; and they were an abhorring unto all flesh."

Our revolutionary war closed about the time when this French infidelity was at its height, and before its frightful results had been fully disclosed.

The government of France had taken part with us in our struggle against England. The noble-hearted Lafayette had embarked in our cause with a generous enthusiasm that deeply affected the American people. Other distinguished Frenchmen had been our friends. Now, it was at this juncture, when we were disposed to give the warmest welcome to whatever came from France, that a deep, dark tide of that horrible infidelity ploughed its way, like the Gulf Stream through the Atlantic, and heaved its huge surges on the American shore. The valleys were flooded; the swelling waves rose and buried the hills; upward the awful deluge prevailed, and rolled its black billows above the tops of the tallest mountains. In the new settlements of the west the desolation was dreadful. There were few that escaped the deadly inundation. were religious privileges, that it was extremely difficult to find materials sufficient to construct an ark, in which one entire family might be saved. It was proclaimed over all the land, that France-enlightened, scientific, fashionable France had renounced the gospel, had burned the Bible in the streets of Paris by the hands of the common hangman, and had inscribed in broad

So rare

characters, over the entrance into the common buryingground, that "death is an eternal sleep."

And moreover it was confidently asserted, by those who had opportunity to know, that Thomas Jefferson, regarded in the west as a great political luminary, had rejected the gospel, and adopted the infidelity of France; that most of our enlightened statesmen were following his example. Jefferson, as a politician, had, at that period, immense popularity; and the influence of his name, when in unison with the downward current of depravity, was mighty.

Such was the attitude of the west, in relation to religion and religious privileges, from the year 1783 till 1800 harassed by almost incessant Indian wars, impelled in the broad road by the folly and wickedness bound up in its own heart, and bewitched and bewildered by the abominable example of those whose names possessed fascination, because they were inscribed on the rolls of fame.

In the midst of this period of spiritual darkness, Paine's "Age of Reason" came forth. Paine was favorably known to the American people as a political writer during the conflict of the revolution. His works entitled "Common Sense," and "The Rights of Man," had secured for him a wide-spread reputation. And in the minds of the multitude, he was closely identified with the cause of American freedom. Rarely, in his assaults on the church of God, has that "archangel ruined," whose name is called Apollyon, been able to occupy such vantage-ground. The appeal to the American people was this: "You have thrown off allegiance to the British king; now throw off the yoke of superstition, and be freemen indeed." Paine scoffed

O, it was a
The shock

at all that was sacred in religion - profanely mocked and blasphemed the ordinances of God. tremendous eruption of the bottomless pit! had well nigh thrown down the hope of the church. The smoke that ascended filled all the air with blackness, and eclipsed the sun; while ashes, cinders, and lava came down, threatening to bury every vestige of good that yet remained in society.

In a letter to the editors of "The New York Magazine," the venerable Gideon Blackburn says, "About the years '98 and '99, the darkness was thick, like that in Egypt, a darkness which might be felt.' The few pious in the land were ready to cry out, 'Has God forgotten to be gracious? Are his mercies clean gone? Will he be favorable no more?'"

About this period, pious men in the west began to call on the name of the Lord with that earnestness and

importunity which takes no denial. In Logan county, Kentucky, Rev. James McGready and some Christian people appointed seasons of special prayer. They also set apart days of fasting and humiliation before God.

The great revival of 1800, like that granted to the disciples on the day of Pentecost, was preceded by a season of deep humiliation and earnest prayer to God.

THE REVIVAL.

The first conclusive proofs that the Lord had heard prayer, and visited his people, were received in Logan county, Kentucky. The work began "at the house of God." It was according to the prayer of the Psalmist : "Restore unto me the joys of thy salvation, and uphold me with thy free spirit; then will I

teach transgressors thy ways, and sinners shall be converted unto thee." The people of God were brought near to him. The preaching of the gospel and the ordinances of the Lord's house were to them the bread and the water of life. And while they admired the freeness, the fulness, and the firmness of God's covenant mercy, the very dust and ruins of Zion were precious in their eyes, and believing prayer in her behalf went up as a "cloud of incense" before God. Presently an awful solemnity took hold of the public mind. Persons hitherto careless flocked, in great numbers, to the place of worship. The power of preaching was greatly increased. God was "fearful in his praises." And in prayer, Christians were enabled to "come boldly to a throne of grace."

I design to give, presently, Dr. Baxter's account of these seasons, written at the time; but first I wish to lay before the reader some particulars which are imprinted on my own memory, and have remained most distinct and clear, through all the years that have intervened. The "little cloud" which had begun to pour out its blessing on the churches in Logan county, Kentucky, soon spread, like that in Elijah's day, until it covered the face of heaven. My father's residence was then in East Tennessee, some two hundred and fifty miles distant from the point where the revival first appeared; but brief was the time that elapsed until it was in the midst of our population.

1. A deep solemnity pervaded the entire community, filling the minds of old and young with awe and reverence in view of God and his holy gospel. I remember, with a distinctness that is marvellous to myself, the unparalleled impression in our neighbor