At
the close the letter slides from spiritual despair to the
worsted-merchant, showing that, as we remarked before, the language of
despondency had become habitual, and does not always flow from a soul
really in the depths of woe.
TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.
"_Jan. 13th_, 1784.
"MY DEAR FRIEND,--I too have taken leave of the old year, and parted
with it just when you did, but with very different sentiments and
feelings upon the occasion. I looked back upon all the passages and
occurrences of it, as a traveller looks back upon a wilderness through
which he has passed with weariness, and sorrow of heart, reaping no
other fruit, of his labour, than the poor consolation that, dreary as
the desert was, he has left it all behind him. The traveller would
find even this comfort considerably lessened, if, as soon as he had
passed one wilderness, another of equal length, and equally desolate,
should expect him. In this particular, his experience and mine would
exactly tally. I should rejoice, indeed, that the old year is over and
gone, if I had not every reason to prophesy a new one similar to it.
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