LETTER MXCVII
TO Mr. V——.
Weston-Favell, August 30, 1755.
My dear Friend,
I WROTE you a letter just before I left Charles-Town, which I find you have not received. The things sent proved bad, but I have a God to go to, who can and will supply all my wants according to the riches of his grace in Christ Jesus. I am sorry that your people continue yet as sheep having no shepherd. What I said about Mr. B——, was by commission from himself, I wish Mr. D—— may see his way clear. But who will come to be torn in pieces by two contending parties?
Giver of concord, prince of peace,
Meek lamb-like Son of God,
Bid these unchristian jarrings cease,
O quench them with thy blood!
Amidst all this, what a mercy is it, my dear friend, that Jesus shews you more of your heart. O thank him a thousand and a thousand times, for pointing out to you the sin that doth most easily beset you. Surely it is a too great love of money. Of this your friends every where take notice; and this, in many cases, makes you act an unfriendly part. If God should suffer our enemies to prevail, you will wish you had laid up more treasure in heaven. Blessed be God, mine is out of the reach of men or devils. Strange! that five per cent. from man, should be preferred to a hundred-fold from Christ! A word to the wise is sufficient. I should not have said this, lest there should be the appearance of self-interest, had you not given me the hint. But I hope you know, (however, I am sure that God knows) that I want to deny, not enrich myself. But enough of this. I am now looking out for more news from dear America. May the late defeat be sanctified; and then I doubt not but we shall be more than conquerors through the love of Christ. I often wish myself abroad; but assuredly Providence called me home.—My poor feeble labours are still blessed both in town and country, and many dear ministers of Jesus are coming out. It would delight you to be at Tabernacle. We are often in the suburbs of heaven. I write this from dear Mr. H——y’s, in my way to Yorkshire, and perhaps Ireland, I told him what you wrote about Theron and Aspasio, and he begs your prayers. O America, how near dost thou lie upon my heart! God preserve it from popish tyranny and arbitrary power! I can write no more. Adieu, my dear Mr. V——. Continue to write to me, and live and give for Jesus, who hath given you this world, and that which is to come. Was you here, methinks we should weep together. O redeeming love! How can we think of it, and at the same time not be ambitious of opportunities to spend and be spent for Jesus. Non magna loquimur, non magna scribimus, sed vivimus, is the christian’s motto. Mr. D—— can English it. I send to him, and all enquiring friends, my cordial respects. I saw his daughter well at Braintree a little while ago. There, as well as elsewhere, we had blessed seasons. I know you will join in crying Grace! grace! with, my dear Gaius,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXCVIII.
To Mr. J—— S——.
Northampton, September 1, 1755.
AND did my dear Mr. S—— direct a letter and not send me one line at a venture? Well, I thank him even for the direction, as well as for all other unmerited favours. O that it was in my power to shew my gratitude in a substantial manner! This is my comfort, God is a prayer-hearing, promise-keeping God. He will not fail those, who have confessed him or his ministers before men.—It may be, before men they shall be rewarded. Certain it is, they shall be confessed by Jesus Christ in the presence of men and angels in the kingdom of heaven. This, ere long, will be your happiness. Methinks I long for the day; but am ashamed I do no more for Jesus, who yet continues to employ me. Every where the fields are white ready unto harvest. At London, Bristol, Bath, in Gloucestershire, at Norwich, Bury, Braintree, and yesterday twice here, we had blessed seasons. I am now going into Yorkshire, and it may be to Ireland. If there should be a bloody war, God only knows when I shall see my dear New-England. Thither I find a strong attraction. O for good news from the northern forces! I suppose death must come first before life.—This is always the method of Providence. Lord, help us to pray and not faint! Happy they who have got a Jesus to fly to: he is our refuge from every storm. Your whole self and all enquiring friends do I most earnestly commend to his never-failing mercy, as being, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXCIX.
To Colonel P——.
Northampton, September 1, 1755.
My dear Sir,
ACCORDING to my promise, before I embarked for England, I sent you the copy of my oath, from Charles-Town; which, I fear, is not come to hand, because not mentioned in either of your letters, which I had the pleasure of receiving a few days ago. In my way northward, I take the first opportunity of thanking you for both, and at the same time heartily thank the Captain of our salvation, for giving you grace to stand to your colours, and persist in your spiritual warfare. Perhaps, ere this reaches Boston, you may be called out in the service of your country. May your head, and the heads of all engaged, be covered in every day of battle; and may our troops be made in the end more than conquerors through the love of God! This is what we are assured of in our spiritual combat.—Jesus, who is truth itself, hath told us, that nothing shall pluck us out of his almighty hands. Though faint then, let us still pursue. Through the Redeemer strengthening me, I am yet continuing my feeble labours, which, I trust, are not in vain in the Lord. Fain would I be with you; but Providence seems to have cast my lot at present here. Well, my dear Sir, there is a place, at which, though absent from, we may be present with each other; I mean the throne of grace. There, God willing, I will often meet you. I know you will accept the challenge, and God himself will say, Amen. Glad should I be to hear from you frequently. O for good news from dear New-England! Blessed be God for what you send me concerning Mrs. P——. May root and branch be spared for the Mediator’s glory! To his tender, never-failing mercy, do I most humbly commend you, and all other enquiring friends, as being, my dear Sir,
Your most affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MC.
To Mrs. M——.
Liverpool, Sept. 12, 1755.
Dear Madam,
ERE this can reach you, I hope the days of your mourning will be ended. By your last to Mr. W—— I find your harp was hanging upon the willows, your chariot wheels taken off, and your poor soul driving heavily. Add to all this,—Satan was besetting you on every side, and so daring as to say, “Where is now thy God?”—This is his common artifice; thus he attacked the great High-priest and blessed apostle of our profession, “If thou be the Son of God, &c.” But if you love not Jesus, whence this pain of absence? Why so often crying out,
For to my soul it’s hell to be
But for one moment void of thee?
This is not the language of a hypocrite. No: it is the native, genuine cry of a new and heaven-born soul. Woman, therefore, why weepest thou? Thy Lord hath drank of this bitter cup before thee.
He knows what this temptation means,
For he hath felt the same.
Look then to Him, dear Madam, who upon the cross cried out in the bitterness of his soul, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” The Redeemer is now only giving you blessings in disguise, and teaching you instructive lessons by the thorns and briars of the wilderness. Now is the time for you to prove the strength of Jesus yours, and to learn to live upon a God that changeth not. Be pleased to excuse this freedom. At Mr. W——d’s desire I take it. Your advice to him, amidst all your gloom, bespeaks your concern for the ark of God; I wish he may take it. But I love not to interfere in other people’s plans, any further than I can contribute a mite towards promoting the common salvation. This principle made me incline to see Ireland, but I believe the season is too far gone. The Redeemer’s time is best. O that all may have grace given them to wait his leisure! Then will affairs have a more comfortable aspect, and many wrong touches of the ark be happily prevented. Blessed be God, in many places the word runs and is glorified. O that I could begin to begin to do something for Jesus! I wish that Mr. C—— may be raised to work for him once more. And yet, methinks it is cruel to wish him to stay longer out of heaven. God give me patience to wait till my wished-for change shall come! My cordial respects await all that love Christ Jesus in sincerity.—Be pleased to accept the same for your whole self, from, dear Madam,
Your sympathizing friend, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCI.
To Mr. S——.
Newcastle, September 24, 1755.
My very dear Sir,
AT length I can sit down, and send you (what I know you dearly love) some good news concerning the kingdom of Jesus Christ. O infinite condescension! He hath vouchsafed to own and bless my feeble labours all the way. At Northampton we had blessed seasons; at Lady H——n’s, the Lord of all Lords was with us of a truth; at Liverpool I trust some fallow ground was broken up; at Bolton the cup of many ran over; at Manchester people heard most gladly; and at Leeds and Bradford, what many felt, I believe, is unutterable. In my way hither, I hope a smart gentleman was touched at York, and several I find were awakened when I was at this place last. Lord, what am I?
If thou excuse, then work thy will,
By so unfit an instrument;
It will at once thy goodness shew,
And prove thy power omnipotent.
What God does further, you may hear by and by. Perhaps I am at the end of my northern circuit, and I fear I am too impatient to get at the end of my christian race. I long, I long to see Jesus. Well, he that comes, will come and will not tarry. His reward is with him; then, but not till then, shall you and yours be fully recompensed, for strengthening my poor feeble hands in the Lord. He only knows how feeble. Surely this is grace indeed, to employ such a wretch as I am. Help me to adore it. Continue to pray for me, and thereby add to the obligations already conferred on, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MCII.
To Lady H——n.
Newcastle, September 24, 1755.
Ever-honoured Madam,
I KNOW not how long it is since I left your Ladyship; but this I know, a sense of the satisfaction I felt when at ♦Donnington, still lies upon my heart. Surely, was I not called out to public work, waiting upon and administring to your Ladyship in holy offices would be my choice and highest privilege. But Jesus calls, and therefore I travel to do or suffer thy will, O God! The only new ground that hath been broken up, I think is Liverpool; there the prospect is promising. I preached in a great square on the Lord’s day, and the alarm I hear went through the town. At Bolton the cup of God’s people ran over; and at Manchester we had large auditories and blessed seasons. At Leeds we felt what is unutterable, and at Bradford, I believe, last Sunday the congregation consisted of at least ten thousand. But O how hath my pleasure been alloyed at Leeds! I rejoiced there with trembling; for unknown to me, they had almost finished a large house in order to form a separate congregation. If this scheme succeeds, an awful separation I fear will take place amongst the societies. I have written to Mr. W——, and have done all I could to prevent it. O this self-love, this self-will! It is the devil of devils. Lord Jesus, may thy blessed spirit purge it out of all our hearts! But O how must the divine Paraclete sit as a refiner’s fire upon the heart, in order to bring this about! Few choose such fiery purgations, and therefore so few make the progress that might justly be expected of them in the divine life. Make me, O God, willing to be made, willing to be, to do, or suffer what thou pleasest, and then——what then?—this foolish fluttering heart will sweetly be moulded into the divine image.—This I write from Newcastle, where the people twice a day hear the gospel gladly. At York I hope a fine gentleman was touched, and several I find were awakened there, and here also, at my last visit. What to do now, I know not. Calls on all sides are very loud, and it is too late to go either to Ireland or Scotland. O my God!—Winter is at hand, and in the summer how little hath been done for thee! I cannot bear to live at this poor dying rate. My good and ever-honoured Lady, add; for Christ’s sake add to my already innumerable obligations, by praying for a poor unfruitful and ungrateful dwarf. I am sick of my vileness, and yet just comes in a letter acquainting me, that my preaching hath been blessed to many this morning. Good God, what is this? Grace! Grace! I am lost, I am lost.
Take me Uriel, take me hence,
And bear my soul to God.
Your Ladyship sees I am running into my old fault. I cannot well help it, when writing to your Ladyship. May the choicest of God’s mercies rest on you and yours! I hope my poor but sincere respects will find acceptance with Lady S——’s, Master H——, &c. I must away to pray for your Ladyship and them, and therefore hasten to subscribe myself, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most ready servant,
G. W.
LETTER MCIII.
To Mr. D—— B——.
Newcastle, October 4, 1755.
My dear Friend,
WHO would but wish to be in heaven, where we shall enjoy the communion of saints without interruption? Whilst here, how long is it before we can answer each other’s letters? With difficulty I now sit down to answer your last; for these seven or eight days past, I have been deeply engaged in travelling, and preaching thrice a day. Jesus Christ hath made it pleasant to my soul, and comfortably supported my weak body. It being so late in the year, I cannot proceed further northward. However I must write, if it be only to let you know, that my dear Scotch friends are continually upon my heart, and that I most earnestly beg the continuance of their prayers. I am a dwarf,—I am a dwarf,—and that is enough to excite their pity. Alas! alas! Autumn is come, winter is drawing on, and (O my God) how little have I done for thee in the summer. The concern I feel upon this account almost prevents my writing. Adieu, I must retire.—My tender love to Mrs. B——, and all that are so kind as to inquire after me. Exhort them to love, and live near to the ever-loving Jesus, and for his great name’s sake, never to forget, my dear friend,
Their and your affectionate friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCIV.
To Mr. ——.
London, October 31, 1755.
My very dear Friend,
LAST night, a never-failing God brought me from the north of England, where I have been enabled to preach twice and thrice a day, to many, many thousands for these two months last past. And yet I cannot die.—Nay they tell me, “I grow fat.” O that I may grow in grace, especially in humility! Then would the Lord delight to honour me. Vile as I am, this he continues to do. Never did I see the word more blessed, or so many thousands run after it with greater greediness. Next to inviting them to Christ, I have always taken care to exhort them to pray for King George, and our dear friends in America. I trust, that thousands are now engaged this way, and whatever dark providences may intervene, I hope to hear they have been more than conquerors.—“Pray continue to write,” I often tell my friend. I often think of him who sent me the glass, before the friend of sinners. God almighty bless you and yours, and all enquiring dear souls, with all spiritual and temporal blessings! I see some are marrying, and others giving in marriage. May the Lord Jesus sanctify every change, till we all come to sit down at the marriage feast of the supper of the Lamb! There I hope ere long to meet you. Fly, fly, Time: hasten, hasten, O wished-for Eternity! Adieu: my tender love to all. I wish dear Mr. T—— a good help-mate, but above all, I wish him much success in espousing poor sinners to the ever adorable Jesus. Once more farewel.
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MCV.
To Mr. B——.
London, November 1, 1755.
My dear Mr. B——,
ON Thursday evening, a never-failing Providence brought me in safety from my northern circuit, and this morning I find a letter of a distant date from you, which before I look over my other letters, I sit down to answer. And what shall I say? Blessed be God, I have good news to send you from the north country; never did I see the word of God have freer course, or congregations more numerous or attentive. I was strengthened to preach generally twice or thrice a day, and thanks be to my gracious Master, my poor carcase held it out. Next to Jesus, my King and country were upon my heart. I acted as at Stroud, and other parts of Gloucestershire, and I hope I shall always think it my bounden duty, next to inviting sinners to the blessed Jesus, to exhort my hearers to exert themselves against the first approaches of popish tyranny and arbitrary power. O that we may be enabled to watch and pray against all the opposition of Antichrist in our hearts; for after all, there lies the most dangerous man of sin; there is the temple in which he sits, exalting himself above all that is called God. And what shall, what can destroy him? Nothing but the breath of the Redeemer’s mouth, and the brightness of his appearing, by his blessed spirit in our souls. O for more of this baptismal fire! God give you, and the dear Alderman, to pray earnestly for me, that I may begin at length to be a little alive to my God. O winter! winter! how near art thou drawing, and how little have I done for Jesus in the summer! Perhaps before Christmas I may see you again. Future things belong to Jesus. To his tender never-failing mercy do I most heartily commit you, and the dear Alderman, all your relations, and all enquiring friends, and once more beg that you will not forget to pray for, my dear Mr. B——,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MCVI.
To Lady H——n.
London, November 1, 1755.
Ever-honoured Madam,
WHAT shall I say? Indeed and indeed, it hath given me great concern, that I could not perform my promise to return to Donnington-park so soon as I expected.—But had I done so, I must have failed preaching at least to above fifty thousand souls, who at different places ran most greedily many miles after the everlasting gospel. This I thought your Ladyship would by no means approve of, and therefore acquiesced. On Thursday evening, with no small regret I came to town, after having preached about a hundred times, and travelled about eight hundred miles in the country. Blessed be God, my feeble carcase was strengthened to hold out, though for more than ten days together, I preached thrice a day.—O that I could preach three hundred times! all would be little enough, (alas, alas, infinitely too little) to testify my feeble love to the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. I hope that your Ladyship, and the other elect Ladies, will enjoy much of his blessed spirit, in your present sweet retreat. After about a week’s stay here, I hope to move westward. O winter, winter! haste and fly, that I may again set out, and begin to spring for my God! I know I shall have your Ladyship’s prayers, and I am sure your Ladyship and family and friends have mine. Yesterday I waited upon the Countess D——, and on Thursday, God willing, I am to dine with her Ladyship. Blessed be God, all was well. O for growth in grace! O for the total destruction of self and selfishness! Alas, what inward purgations and martyrdoms must be undergone! Lord Jesus, we are the clay, and thou art the potter; stamp thine image in what way thou pleasest! I know your Ladyship will say, Amen. I trust an “Even so, Lord Jesus, come quickly,” is sincerely added by, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCVII.
To the Honourable J—— R——.
London, Numbers 7, 1755.
Very dear Sir,
ARE you yet called out in defence of your country? The measures taken by your honourable and loyal council and assembly, I hope will be blessed to prevent a stir so near to Boston. I am glad to hear, that the Ladies are employed in making the soldiers cloaths; I trust my female friends are some of the most active. Surely, the cause is the cause of God, and if done out of love to Jesus, this labour of love shall not go unrewarded. God make male and female good soldiers of Jesus Christ! Nothing like fighting under his banner; he is a refuge from every storm. I can only add, that I most earnestly commend you and yours, and the whole circle of my never to be forgotten friends, to his never-failing mercy, and intreat you to accept these few hasty lines, as a token of love and respect unfeigned, from, very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MCVIII.
To the Honourable A—— O——.
London, November 8, 1755.
Very dear Sir,
I HEAR you have been sitting night and day in council. May Jesus, the wonderful counsellor, preside in your assembly, and influence you to pursue such measures, as may be blessed to the humbling a persidious enemy, and making the dear New Englanders more than conquerors through the love of God! All we can do on this side the water, is to pray. This I trust thousands are doing every day.—I seldom preach, without mentioning dear New England. O for more good news from that part of yonder new world! O that this time of outward danger, may be sanctified to the exciting of greater zeal against our inward spiritual enemies! For after all, the man of sin in our own hearts, is the greatest foe the real christian hath to fear. May Jesus destroy him both within and without, by the breath of his mouth, and the brightness of his appearing! Blessed be God, the prospect is promising here! In the north of England, the word runs and is glorified more than ever, and in London people flock like doves to the windows:—and yet I feel a strong attraction for America. Pray be so kind, very dear Sir, to send me some account now and then, how matters stand.—Perhaps it may be of some service. I could enlarge, but must drop a line or two more to some more friends, and therefore can only send my most cordial salutations to yourself, and whole houshold, and begging a continued interest in your prayers, subscribe myself, very dear Sir,
Your most obliged, affectionate friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCIX.
To Lady H——n.
London, November 10, 1755.
Ever-honoured Madam,
YOUR Ladyship’s kind and condescending letter, found me just returned from Chatham, and led me (as your Ladyship’s letters always do) to a throne of grace. I immediately threw myself prostrate before God, and earnestly prayed, in my poor feeble manner, that grace, mercy, and peace might be multiplied upon your Ladyship, and your happy family. The Court, in the best sense of the word, is now removed to Clifton. For there only is the real court kept, where Jesus reigns, and where he has erected a spiritual kingdom in the heart. All besides this, is only tinsel and glitter. Here alone is real and abiding happiness to be found. O for further searches into the heighths and depths of God? O for further leadings into the chambers of that selfish, sensual, and devilish imagery, that yet lie latent in my partly renewed heart. This self-love, what a Proteus! This self-will, what an Hydra? This remaining body of sin and death, what an antichrist! what a scarlet whore! what a hell! what a red dragon! what a cursed monster is it! How hard, how slow he dies! O what gratitude do I owe to the bruiser of this serpent’s head! O for a heart gladly to embrace every cross, every trying dispensation, that may have a tendency to poison, or starve, or nip the buddings of the old, and cherish, promote, or cause to bloom and blossom the graces and tempers of the new man in my soul! Ordinances, providences, doctrines, (I am more and more convinced) are of no service to believers, than as they are attended with this mortifying and life-giving power. Happy family, that have this one thing in view! Happy retirement, that is improved to this blessed purpose! Happy, therefore, good Lady H——n, and the other elect Ladies, who are determined thus to go on hand in hand to heaven! All hail, ye new-born, heaven-born souls! ye know, by happy experience, that Jesus is an inward as well as an outward saviour, and that he came indeed and indeed to redeem us from this present evil world. Was even annihilation to follow at death, who would but have this redemption whilst they live? But, glory, glory be to God, it is only the dawning of an eternal day, the beginning of a life that is ere long to be absorbed and swallowed up in never-ceasing, uninterrupted fruition of the ever-blessed triune Deity. O the depth, the height of this love of God! It passeth human and angelic knowledge. My paper only permits me to add, (God knows it is with gratitude and sincerity) that I am, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful and ready servant,
G. W.
LETTER MCX.
To Mr. S——.
Bristol, November 30, 1755.
My very dear Sir,
TO be three weeks without sending you a line, seems a long while to me. What if we should meet ere long in an endless and happy eternity? For near ten days past I have preached in pain, occasioned by a sore throat, which I find now is the beginning of an inflammatory quinsey. Silence and warmth, the doctor tells me, under God, may cure me, but heaven (if I had my will) is my choice, especially if I can speak no longer on earth for my God. However, painful and expensive as, in a spiritual sense, the medicine of silence is, I have promised to be very obedient, and therefore I have not preached this morning. If I grow better, (as the world terms it) I hope to see you in about a fortnight, if otherwise, God willing, you shall hear from me again. Blessed be Jesus, I am ready; I know that my Redeemer liveth. O that all who were lately swallowed up in Portugal, had known it! Then an earthquake would only be a rumbling chariot to carry the soul to God. Poor Lisbon! how soon are all thy riches and superstitious pageantry swallowed up! What a shock must the news give to a full exchange! Who would but lay up treasure in heaven? Thanks be to God, for teaching you, my very dear Sir, this heavenly art! May you and yours improve in it every day and hour. This is my comfort, all my goods are gone before me. O the pleasure of having nothing, and yet possessing all things in Jesus! This be my happy lot! I beg a continued interest in your prayers, and trust that living and dying you will always be remembered by, my very dear friend,
Your most affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCXI.
To the Reverend Mr. H—— D——.
Bristol, Dec. 6, 1755.
My dear Friend and Brother,
ONE would think, that Providence did in a more immediate manner interpose to prevent our meeting. I saw your last to Mr. M——n, and intended to have answered it for him, but it hath pleased a gracious and sovereign God to silence me for a few days, by a sore throat, which was like to have terminated in an inflammatory quinsey. This gave me hopes of putting into port; but it seems I am yet to put out to sea again. O that my stammering tongue may be loosed, and that I may begin to begin to speak in earnest for my God! Every thing, both from within and without, calls upon us to cry aloud and spare not. Whatever becomes of ill and hell-deserving me, may the ever-loving and ever-lovely Jesus cause your bow to abide in strength! I trust many arrows have stuck fast in the North of England; and in the West, I trust, the sword of the Lord hath not returned empty. On Monday se’nnight, God willing, I purpose going to Gloucester, and hope to be in London soon. Our meeting, therefore, must necessarily be put off till Spring. In the meanwhile, I should be glad to see and converse with Mr. J——, of whom I have heard a good report. I am sorry there is no greater connection between England and Wales. The harvest is great, and the disinterested labourers are few. This is my comfort, the Lord of the harvest can and will, in his own time and way, thrust out more labourers into the harvest. That he may own and bless you, and all in your connection, more and more, is the earnest prayer of, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MCXII.
To Lady H——n.
London, December 31, 1755.
Ever-honoured Madam,
YOUR Ladyship’s kind and condescending letter should not have lain so long by me, had not bodily weakness, and my Christmas labours, prevented my writing. Indeed and indeed my good Lady, it hath been a joyful mournful season to my inward man. For exclusive of a pretty sharp outward trial, Saturday last being my birth-day, my soul was deeply exercised from morning till evening, in thinking how much in one-and-forty years I have sinned against, and how little I have done for an infinitely good and ever-blessed God. This impression yet lies deep upon my heart, and therefore, through divine assistance, I purpose to end the old year in preaching on those words, “I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” O that all things belonging to the old man, may die in me, and all things belonging to the new man live and grow in me! But alas, this is a work of time. Every day and every hour must we be passing from death to life. Mortification and vivification make up the whole of the divine work in the new-born soul. Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly; have compassion on this barren fig-tree, and if it is to be spared another year, so dig and dung round it, that it may bring forth much fruit unto God! But shall I conceal the goodness of my long-suffering Master? No: I dare not;—for in spite of my unworthiness, he still continues to smile upon my poor ministrations, and gives me to see his stately steps in the great congregations. A noble chapel is now opened in Long-acre, where I am to read prayers and preach twice a week. Hundreds went away last night, who could not come in; but those that could, I trust, met with Jesus. Mr. C—— and I have met twice, and hope for a third interview very soon. Lord Jesus, make me a peace-maker! I am obliged to Mrs. W—— and the other Ladies for their kind remembrance of an unworthy worm. I return it, by earnestly praying, that they and your Ladyship may be filled with all the fulness of God. I can rise no higher, and therefore, with all possible acknowledgments for all unmerited favours, I must hasten to subscribe myself, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and very ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MCXIII.
To Mr. S——.
London, January 1, 1756.
My very dear Friend,
YOUR not answering my two last sooner, gave me pain; sorrows are lessened, and joys become greater by being communicated. It is so with an earthly friend, much more so with the friend of sinners.
Our sorrows and our tears we pour,
Into the bosom of our God.
He bottles them all up, and will not suffer one of them to fall to the ground unregarded. I hope that these trials, which, like Job’s messengers, come one upon the back of another, by being sanctified, will make your soul as a watered garden. You know who hath said, “They that sow in tears, shall reap in joy.” O blessed religion, that shews us the holy art of gaining by our losses, and rising by our falls! Was it in my power, this letter should enclose something that would stop every temporal gap; but I am not rich at present. Poor, yet endeavouring to make many rich, I would have my motto still! Thanks be to God, at our lowest estate we can draw on the bank of heaven. A believer never hath a bill protested there. “My God (says the Apostle Paul) shall supply all your need according to his riches in Christ Jesus.” Away, and endorse it afresh, and send it directly away post on the wings of prayer. Never fear any trial that sends you to your knees; You must then needs go forward whether you know it or not. I would enlarge, but weakness prevents. I have been in the furnace; I hope it is intended to prepare me for fresh success. The awakening at London seems to be quite new. Adieu, adieu. I am called away.
Ever yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MCXIV.
To the Reverend Mr. G——.
London, January 22, 1756.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
ENCLOSED you have some extracts, which perhaps may afford you comfort, and I trust will excite you to pray for one, who is indeed less than the least of all saints. Ever since I came from the North, it hath pleased a sovereign Lord to visit me with a violent cold and sore throat, which threatened an inflammatory quinsey. Such a thing, I hoped, would have soon carried me, where this cold heart should for ever be inflamed with seraphic love. But alas! I fear this wish’d-for time is not at hand. One physician prescribed a perpetual blister, but I have found perpetual preaching to be a better remedy. When this grand catholicon fails, it is over with me. You will pray, that (if I must put out to sea again) it may be to take some fresh prizes for my God. Every day brings us fresh news of newly awakened souls. Both at this and the other end of the town, (where I now preach at a chapel twice a week) there is a glorious stirring amongst the dry bones. My heart is pained for dear America; but I trust the Lord will fight their battles, and make them more than conquerors. Happy they who have fled to Jesus: he is a strong and sure refuge from every storm. I hope he hath appeared for his cause at Glasgow. May that dear people never be left without many teaching priests! I send my kind host and hostess, and all enquiring friends, most cordial respects, and beg you to accept the same from, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.