of the church's prosperity becomes more and more forbidding from year to year. Nor do I find the aspect of religious af-fairs much more encouraging in other societies, or denominations. There is an awful falling off on every hand.-True they have larger congregations, on Sundays, than our ministers have: and, in their public assemblies, they may frequent-ly return thanks to heaven for their religi ous liberty and equality, privileges &c.-but I fear they are so far from making good use of these blessings, and duly availing themselves of their privileges, that many will have an accumulated account to render for misemprovement. By a letter from a pious Presbyterian minister, I learn that religion is at a low ebb among them. The baptists, I suppose, are equally declining I seldom hear any thing about them. The Methodists are splitting and falling to pieces their religion seems to consist too muchin party distinction, modes, rules, and usages of their own devising; and, indeed, most of the preachers they send out, and which I sometimes hear, appear to be so weak and unqualified for their business, I have less and less hope of any lasting or substantial good being done by their means. 1 I have heard of the fall and destruction of Cokesbury: but as I am not a prophet, nor a prophet's son, I will not tell you what I said to the little doctor, when he first opened to me his design of building that great house. However, like Micaiah, I gave him no mighty encouragement-nor have matters there turned out much better than I expected. When men, like those on Shinar's plain, have determined to build, that they might get themselves a name, the Lord has frequently blasted the design. However I was sorry when I heard of the catastrophe: I felt for Mr. Asbury-though I never expected any great things, or good purposes, would result from the erection of that vast pile. Indeed, I see not, how any considerate man could expect any great things from a seminary of learning, while under the supreme direction and controul of tinkers and taylors, weavers, shoemakers and country mechanics of all kinds-or, in other words, of men illiterate and wholly unacquainted with colleges and their con tents. See what a vast round I have taken, since I first set out from the tumor-but when writing to you, I would not study correctness, but just set down such thoughts as 182 THE LIFE OF THE REV. D. JARRATT. occur in a miscellaneous manner. The more artless a letter to a friend is, the more pleasing and acceptable it is.-I have now wrote, till I hardly see the letters I am mak ing-and herefore hasten to a close. I remain, as always, your real D. JARRATT. J LETTER III. Virginia, Feb. 17, 1796 Rev. and Dear Sir, t IN December last, I purchased a tract of land, in this county (Dinwiddie) containing, by survey, six hundred and thirty nine three-fourth acres, for which I paid Col. Jones, (the late proprietor) nine hundred and sixty eight pounds. Though I was obliged to borrow a very considerable part of the money. I am therefore, for once, a good deal in debt; a situation, in which I feel very aukward, because so new and unusual: for before this purchase, I did not owe five shillings in the world, except about thirty shillings to my blacksmith. There is a good dwelling house on the premises and a number of other houses; though none of any great account except two barns. It lies between the glebe, where I now live, and Nottoway river, about six or seven miles from this place, and within about two miles of Nottoway river. Should life and health permit, I mean to remove to it some time in the spring. I shall then be about seven miles from Sappony, eight miles from Butterwood, and fifteen or sixteen miles from Hatcher's run church-the last of which, through age and infirmities, I suppose I shall not visit as often as usual. I have little encouragement, you may be sure, to visit either of the three: for although we have, as yet, tolerable congregations, when the weather is good, and especially at Butterwood, where is generally the greatest audience, yet the word seems to have no effect. The people have set under the sound of it so long, that they appear gospel hardened, and proof against every motive and consideration that can be urged or enforced. However, when I consider that salvation belongeth unto God-that the conversion of sinners is a work of his power alone-that when he shall deign to take the work into his hand, the stoutest hearts must bend—that he does this work by the instrumentality of a preached gospel, and, that in the mean time that I am not accountable for the success of my own labours, I am still induced to hold on in calling sinners to repentance. Another thing which |