LETTER IV. DEAR SIR, February 22ď, 1796. THE complaint I mentioned in my letter of the 28th of January, still continues, though, through the tender mercies of God, I am favoured with some intervals, when the pain in my jaw is nearly or quite removed, but the weakness of the eye continues the same. This is the case at present I have little or no pain, but it is with much difficulty I see to write. But thanks to heaven, I can see a little; and as I hate to be idle, I have begun another letter to you. What the contents may be, I cannot now tell, as I am an extempory writer, frequently begin without any premeditation, or any particular subject in view: I shall therefore set down any thing that may occur to my mind, as I go along, and in the order in which it shall occur, without any fegard to method, or the studied rules of Correctness. And while I think of it, I must inform you, that I was (though in much pain) at your brother Williamson's on Thursday last, (the 18th instant) in order to celebrate the nuptial rites of his second daughter, Elizabeth. She is now married to one Mr. James Easom, of Halifax county, in Virgi nia. He appears to be a decent, well behaved young man, and of considerable infor mation. I hope they will do well. Here I saw your fond mother, and your name, according to custom, being mentioned, I told her I had began writing some letters to you. On which she intreated me to make mention of her to you, (in her name) in the strongest and tenderest terms of maternal affection; and relate something of her situation. She lives still at the old place, and has a plenty to live upon. Mrs. Wil Hamson, relict of your uncle John, lives with her. But your mother is greatly af Alicted with a complaint in both her eyes, which has continued a long time, and still continues with little alteration. My infirmity teaches me to sympathize with her most sincerely.But I seldom see her, as she is much confined, as well as myself. It is truly alarming, and distressing fat least it is so to me) to see how fashionable the neglect of public worship has become in this state; and especially among those who are vulgarly called the better sort, and the poison of whose bad example is generally the most diffusive and pernicious. I have been at church the three last Sundays; and though I was not free from bodily pain, yet the prospect afforded me a pain much greater. I cease not to pray for the prosperity of Christ's church in general, and especially that our church, as we say, may meet with the smiles of heaven, and be raised from her low, her sinking state, shake herself from the dust, and become a praise in the earth. But mine are poor prayers-so weak, so cold and freezing, that I fear they reach not half way to the throne. I wish that those, who can pray with more ardor, would never cease, day nor night, to ply a throne of grace till the Lord shall return and have mercy upon Zion-comfort her waste palaces-repair her ruins and cause her desolate places to bud and blossom as the rose. You will judge from hints in this and my other letters, that I am become a great recluse indeed; and this is the case in reality. I spend my time in much retirementI seldom, in day time, come out of my study-except at breakfast and dinner, when I dispatch my frugal meal in a very little time, and withdraw. The continual trouble and uneasiness resulting from my eye, render it disagreeable to be in company. I never visit at all. In truth I never admired visiting-or going any where from home, unless called upon by business or duty. I have formerly visited a neighbour with a view to his spiritual benefit. whether from my own backwardness, igno, rance, discouragement, or from some peculiar arrangement of circumstances, the end designed has been neglected-nothing, or very little, has been said or done to edification-so that I have returned burdened, rather than pleased and recreated. But However, I should be glad to see you, and a few others who are not too ceremonious and punctilious. You would let me sit in company as long as my eye would permit, and put the best construction on my absence when painful necessity required me to withdraw. And I would engage, on my part, to be as much in your company, as I possibly could with any satisfaction to you or myself, and in the mean while, you should hear no groan nor complaint from me to make you uneasy. 194 THE LIFE OF THE REV. D. JARRATT. I will now conclude this letter, as it is rather on a dull and unpleasing subject, and in future, write no more on maladies and complaints for why should a living man complain? especially one who wishes to chuse the Lord for his portion, and repose himself and all his concerns for time and eternity on the care and fidelity of the great shepherd of Israel. To him I desire to look, and on him depend, to provide and carve for me, as seemeth him good, to guide, direct, protect and support me-to be my help in trouble, and my shield in danger the rock of my salvation and exceeding great reward. This is the chief solace of your Friend, &c. D. JARRATT. |