LETTER XII.
To the Same.
Oxon, April 22, 1736.
Dear Mr. H.,
NOW tell me the truth, have not you called me ungrateful? If you have not, it is more than I deserve. I have nothing to plead but business, as an excuse for not answering your last kind letter. Well, forgive me this once, and if I offend so again, then call me ungrateful indeed. You order’d me to make no acknowledgments for kindnesses received. You’ll suffer me to ask another favour, if not to return any more thanks. Be so kind then, dear Sir, to desire your brother to write to me as soon as possible. My good friend, Sir John Philips, has promised me thirty pounds a year, if I’ll continue at Oxford, and yet I am in doubt, whether that annuity, and the being appointed to serve the prison here, will be a sufficient title for orders, therefore I beg both his advice and prayers. This is all I think that concerns outward affairs. But this solemn season naturally leads me to say a word or two on a more important subject, “the death and passion of our blessed Lord and Saviour.” If I mistake not, you commemorate it to-morrow at Crypt. And blessed be God, I do at Christ Church. And oh that we may commemorate it as we ought; that we may fix our thoughts intensely on that great examplar and all atoning blood; that we may grow in love with his meekness and patience, and endeavour daily to be conformed to his most blessed image. Surely we cannot grow angry at trifles, when the Son of God endured such bitter usage, without the least murmur or complaint. Surely, we cannot repine at any dispensations of Providence tho’ ever so severe, when we consider, how it pleased God to bruise our Saviour and lay upon him the iniquities of us all. Whatever befalls us, is but the due reward of our crimes; but this Redeemer had done nothing amiss: he was bruised for our iniquities. I could run through every part of our Lord’s sufferings, and shew how [♦]necessary it is that we should sympathize with him in every particular. But as it now grows late, and I want a little time to prepare for to-morrow’s solemnity, you’ll excuse me if I now only paraphrase a little on the prayer of the thief on the cross. Lord remember us and pray for us; Lord remember us and rule us; Lord remember us and prepare a place for us. Lord remember us in the hour of death, and in the day of judgment. My due respects to all friends, and am sincerely
Yours,
G. W.
[♦] ‘necesary’ replaced with ‘necessary’