()4 John Bachman. 



sioii, we opePxed the letters — as crowds of people 

 were anxiously waiting at the door of the office for 

 tidings of you. 



" You may conceive the delight I felt last night, 

 when I handed Mrs. Bachman down stairs ; she had 

 for a week confined herself to her chamber, in a 

 state of suspense as distressing as it was awful. 



** Do not let your mind be disturbed about your 

 family. I need not assure you that I shall do ever}^ 

 thing I can that will tend to their comfort. The 

 greatest happiness I enjoy is found in the perform- 

 ance of my duty to you and yours — a duty of grati- 

 tude whose obligations 1 hope to feel as long as I 

 have breath to call you my friend — a duty second 

 only to that I owe to my God and my mother. The 

 circumstances of our late sorrows have made me 

 look upon myself more as a member of your family 

 than as your student. And I know that my feelings 

 towards Mrs. B. were not inferior to those of an affec- 

 tionate son to the fondest of mothers. 



"To every member of your congregation your 

 illness lias been an afflictipn, and your recovery a 

 blessing. I think that I could die easy and happy, 

 if I had such a congregation weeping for me, and 

 praying for my welfare. Though all are anxious to 

 see you again, yet we can bear your prolonged ab- 

 sence more cheerfully, when we reflect that, by it, 

 you will return to us with renewed strength and 

 vigor. I hope to preach regularly twice on Sundays. 



'' The yellow fever still prevails, and a still more 

 fatal fever on the " Neck." I performed the funeral 



