ENPages
(seq. 52)
[fol. 1r]
Brookline, July 8, 1797.
Dear Brother,
It seems almost an age, since I heard from you. I acknowledge, you wrote last. But have you not omitted some good opportunity from this circumstance? I hope, our friendship which has been constantly increasing, & which has been maintained with unusual warmth on both sides, is not about to cease for want of cultivation, or degenerate into a cold ceremonious formality. Let us then arouse from our epistolary lethargy & manifest our former zeal in the cause. For my part I have begun two or three letters, since the receipt of your last, which for want of immediate conveyance, I laid by & neglected. I know not what difficulties you met at your first settlement; but so great is the variety of my engagements, avocations, & infirmities, that I find it a very nice & critical task to fix on a good plan for the improvement of my time. In one thing I am decided, which is to write for the present but one sermon a week. Of consequence I must exchange one half of the time. But when shall I write this one sermon? On Saturday night, I resolve to write it on Monday. Well, Monday comes, I am quite exhausted. Perhaps, I rode ten miles & preached, the day before. Some sick person calls my attention. My time is broken, the week is before me, & away goes my Saturday night's resolution. On Tuesday I muster up my pen & ink, get a scrap of paper to sketch the plan of my sermon from a text I had chosen the sabbath before, & resolve to complete it at the beginning of the week, that I may devote the remainder to pastoral visits. After revolving the subject in my mind for some time, a plan is adopted. I read the chapter, whence my text is taken, that I may see the connexion, & consult commentators, that I may be certain of its import. By this time, with the
(seq. 53)
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help of some little avocations, the forenoon is almost exhausted. The remainder is devoted to reading. After dinner it is no time to write. A newspaper is just the thing. When this is read, I recollect some visits which ought to be immediately paid. I am resolved to pay three of these, this afternoon. At the first place I find company which detains me the whole afternoon. The other two visits must be paid at another time. Wednesday comes & I begin my discourse. But it is such slow work, that I get tired of it, & seek relief in reading. In the afternoon comes on another visit, & thus passes one half of the week. On Thursday, just as my pen begins its course, Mr Hyslop runs up stairs, & invites me to ride to Boston Lecture with him to hear Dr Clarke. This is a temptation too great to resist. I comply. After lecture some good friend pressed me to dine with him. And it is a wonder, if I am not thus detained, the remainder of the afternoon. Friday arrives; & I have made but small progress in my sermon. I write a page or two; but the weather is dull; I feel very unfit for writing; I take up a book, resolving to trust to good Providence for the morrow. Saturday finds me very anxious. This gives a ready spur to my invention. My pen flies through thick & thin; & by dinner two thirds of my sermon are completed. In the afternoon we have company from Boston, which detain me till the evening; & And often, poor soul! I am obliged to scibble one third of a discourse by candle light, these short evenings, or rashly encroach on the day of rest! Now, if with the additional avocations of a family you are not reduced to this direful necessity, happy are you. What a sad journal have I presented you of my employment! Would to Heaven, it was not too true! Should I now subjoin how much of my time is spent in idle amusements; & how much is squandered away in doing nothing, you would naturally enough conclude, that "I have not fixed on a good plan for its improvement"! I shudder to think, what a barren old age
[fol.2r]
must be the inevitable consequence of such idleness in youth! I will not invite your attention any longer to such reflections, (& beg pardon for saying so much) but will turn to something more agreeable.
Last Tuesday, a day which deserves to be remembered with the highest pleasure I spent at Wales's Villa with our dear mutual friend, & your good brother, Mr Eben. Wales. I do not recollect ever spending a more agreeable day. The family, you know, is small; but we needed no addition al numbers to add to our happiness, excepting its absent members. Pleasure beamed on every countenance; & joy, which can be exceeded only by more refined natures, seemed the happy portion of each one present. The absence of one, who, on a former similar occasion, graced this happy circle, was not unnoticed. Still as her less was yours & her gain, we should have been too selfish to have indulged unreasonable regret. I can almost conceive the pleasure, you with your dear E. will enjoy in a visit from her beloved brother. May you long & frequently enjoy pleasures so refined.
Since I saw you, my dear friend, I have been called to a [ ] of bitter mourning, where I myself was not an unfeeli[ ] an uninterested spectator. A dear sister of my N. has be[ ] in early life from the arms of fond affection, from a circle of friends the most tenderly & closely allied. You can the more easily concieve the grief which this event has occasioned, by imagining, sad thought! a similar breach in the family at Wales's villa; with this aggravating circumstance, however in respect to N. She has now no sister left at home to sympathize with her in this heavy affliction, & cheer her solitude.
It would afford me great pleasure, my good friend & brother to meet you at Cambridge on the approaching com. & keep up our annual visit. What should hinder? Eben. will be an additional sharer in our usual enjoyment on such occasions. Your dear E. I cannot expect to see. Who knows, but that but on the next anniversary, she may join the party & pay interest for her present absence by the addition of a little pratter! But -- I speak, like one of the family, as if I had a clear little [ ] share in all their pleasures. My forward pretensions may exclude me even from an invitation to partake in their enjoyments. With the same ardor as ever your Philos.
P. S. My compliments to your [ ], & to inquiring friends. I herewith present you Mr Harris's & Mr Cushing's sermons. I beg of you to write by Mr Wales.
(seq. 55)
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No 20. Brookline, Jan. 22. 1799.
My dear friend,
I resume my pen with a sincere desire of reviving our slumbering correspondence. Little did I think, when we commenced it, and wrote to each other with such frequency and zeal, that eighteen months would ever pass without the exchange of a single letter To me this seems the more unaccountable, as previously to that period, our connexion was, if possible, rendered more intimate by your alliance with a family very dear to me, and by my entrance, as a fellow laborer, into the vineyard of our common Lord and Master. Though I must plead neglect, on my part; yet I cannot confess it to be designed neglect. For I must sincerely say, I have ever has every possible inducement to maintain our commerce unimpaired. That this has not been the case, I must impute to that procrastinating disposition, which has often cost me many a sigh of repentance. With the new year I begin new resolutions, hoping that they will meet your ready concurrence, and that they will not, like our resolutions in general, prove ineffectual.
I promised to write immediately after my last visit. But your goodness will readily form an apology for my partial breach of engagement. I have, since that time, passed through one of the most interesting scenes of my life. Ah! how soon are those loose ideas dispelled, which arise from the impulse of youthful passion, and from intercourse with immodest companions, when we enter the