ing the length of time, which has elapsed since he left those quietly retired scenes, and the fact that he has left next to no record of them himself, it will probably be admitted that the amount recovered is both as great and as important, as could have been expected. Though lying without connexion, in detached incidents and anecdotes, it yet illustrates times and characters; and it presents us with a man, who, though his early religious views were not so fully developed as they afterwards became, was yet, in principle and spirit of a lofty make; capable of doing and of suffering much for his Master; and actually instrumental of great good in his service.

His removal was, to all his parishes, a heavy loss; a loss, which, by that in Harwinton, was felt in its subsequent temporary extinction. For many years, it ceased to exist. The Church edifice itself was demolished, and no trace of the parish remained, save in the families, which survived, with an undying attachment to the Church of their affections. Their fidelity, however, has, within the last few years, been rewarded by the revival of the parish; though with a change of name from that of "St. Mark's" to that of "Christ Church." A new Church edifice has been built, and an interesting congregation gathered; among the members of which, not the least interesting, are to be found several of the families, who once listened admiringly to the teachings, and joined adoringly in the devotions of that "Spirit-taught man of prayer," whose departure from among them they so deeply, though so submissively mourned.

FROM THE BISHOP'S SETTLEMENT IN BRISTOL TO HIS CONSECRATION.

WHEN, at midwinter of 1804, Wm. Pearse of Bristol, visited Mr. Griswold in Harwinton, he spent some little time in inquiries among the parishioners, for the purpose of learning, from their free remarks, the true character of their minister. The result was, that, though they soon began to suspect his object, they yet gave their testimony with one voice, the substance of which was Allen Cook's sententious judg ment; "He was an uncommonly perfect man: you could find no fault with him, no way."

His acceptance of the invitation having been obtained, as soon as the weather became settled in the spring, preparations were made for his removal. Mr. John D'Wolf, for the sake of distinction from others,-called, "Northwest John," from a voyage, which he had made round the northwest coast of the Continent, fitted out one of his coasting vessels, with which, passing down Narraganset Bay, he proceeded by Long Island Sound and Connecticut River to Hartford, the nearest point of approach to Harwinton. Thence, with hired teams, he advanced, upwards of twenty miles over the hills and vallies of Connecticut, to the point of his destination. But, what was his surprise at finding the object of his expedition an ecclesiastical Cincinnatus at his plough; a farmer in the field, under a broad brimmed hat, and in patched short-clothes, coarse stockings and heavy shoes! This was the last day of Mr. Griswold's agricultural life. His field dress was soon doffed, and in exchange, his clerical habit assumed; equally at home in either, and to each an equal ornament; his person ever lofty, erect and dignified; his dark eye beaming with cheerfulness and intelligence; and his whole demeanor characteristic of a sober, serious man of God. The expedition closed happily; and

ere summer had set in, Mr. Griswold and his family were quietly settled in his new parish.

In one sense, it is true, this removal could not be considered as any advance on the road to distinction. He went from the charge of three parishes, with full congregations and 220 communicants, to one parish of 25 families, and about 20 communicants; and, though he passed from the secluded hills and vales of Litchfield county to the commercial shores of the beautiful Narraganset, yet the town, in which he settled, had perhaps more intercourse with the West Indies than with the great world at home; and he therefore remained as much unknown to our Church at large as he was during his sheltered retirement in Connecticut. And yet, in another sense, it was a direct move along the road to notoriety. It brought him towards the distinction, which he did not seek. Events have shewn that the hand of God was in it as clearly as in any other movement of his life.

What he did seek in the change, he found; relief from the pecuniary embarrassments, which were worse to him than daily toil and drudgery; and an opening for direct and extensive usefulness in a place, where, little having yet been done for the Church, so much the more remained to be done. For more than a quarter of a century, Bristol became his chosen and his dearest home; the place where his Christian and ministerial character ripened into full development; the field of his best and most successful labors in the vineyard of his Master; and, it may be added, as what bound him to it with increased tenderness of affection, and scene of his most painfully disciplinary afflictions, and the burial-place of almost the whole of a large family!

The parish, though small, was yet endowed with an income of $600 per annum; besides a trust fund for the support of a Charity School. The annual income of the parish constituted the only salary of its Rector. Although inadequate to the support of a family in a place where the expenses of living were necessarily large, yet the parish made no voluntary addition to it; and Mr. Griswold was therefore

obliged to add to the duties of his rectorship those of a select school.

This operation of the endowment of the parish presents a fact, which may be added to several others within my knowledge, illustrative of the truth, that, though such endowments may sometimes preserve a parish from extinction amidst the unsettling of change and revolution, yet on the whole, they minister not to the true strength and growth of the Church. Such endowments belong not to our voluntary system; and if they are small, they either entail on the parish a minister as cheap as his salary, or, if he be worth his support, drive him to an exhausting use of private means, or to the drudgery of double labor for the comfort of his family. There is, in poor human nature, as it grasps the purse, an instinctively contractile power, which can never be relaxed but by the steadily applied force of generous or of gracious habit. When the hand is never opened to give, the heart grows too hard to feel; or the lightest demands of benevolence become a burthen too heavy to be borne. But habit makes giving not only easy, but delightful, and meets all the demands of benevolence without entrenching on the means of doing justice to others and of securing comfort to ourselves.

At the present point in the life of Bishop Griswold, his auto-biography again comes in as a more frequent guide; though its riches consist more in the views, which it furnishes of his own mind, feelings, and growth of character, than in any minute details of the events, with which his life. was filled. It gives the man of God and the minister of Christ in growing relief; while it furnishes only here and there a reference to a few of the more prominent incidents, through which he passed. I present here his first notice of the parish in Bristol.

"I found in this place a parish of about twenty-five families decidedly attached to the Church, and about the same number of communicants. Some others had occasionally attended worship there. The congregation, however, so rapidly increased, that, in a few years, the Church was not

large enough for their accommodation. Twenty-four feet were added to the length of the house: and the new pews sold readily, and at such prices that the parish gained several hundred dollars to its fund, beyond the cost of the addition."

The prosperity of the parish indicated in this note continued, without interruption, during his rectorship, though it was more marked at some periods than at others. On this subject, however, he says but little in the sketch of his own life. He recurs to it, once or twice, at a subsequent date, as we shall see; but, for the present, his mind seems inclined to indulge in retrospect, and in general views. He evidently regards his entrance on the duties of this parish as a sort of central point in his life, upon which the influences of the past converge, and from which influences into the future radiate: and therefore, with a mere notice of his settlement here and its more immediate results, he takes his stand on this as a point of observation; throws his view behind him, around him, and before; glances occasionally at incidents, but dwells mostly on the feelings, motives and principles, by which he had been governed; and thus, in his own modest way, shews himself without aiming at self-display, and holds up a model of character before his clergy without any assumption of mere official superiority.

With these preparatory remarks, let us now follow, for a while, his own words, and walk by the light, which he sheds around himself.

"Soon after engaging in the duties of the pastoral care, I found that my hopes of leisure for much reading were not to be realized without a neglect of the very duties to which I was pledged. It was with too much regret, and with too little resignation and trust in God, that I was, by a simple sense of duty, constrained to relinquish some studies, in which I had very much delighted; especially, Music and Mathematics, Natural Philosophy and Chemistry.

"Dr. Johnson mentions it as a sad reflection, that he knew almost as much at eighteen, as he did at fifty-four. In the later years of my life, my mind has been not a little