Oxon, Oct. 14, 1736.
Dearest Sir,
I Was agreeably detained, as you was pleased to term it, last Tuesday, in reading your kind letter, and had I not been assisted by the grace of God to receive every thing with an equal, undisturbed mind, perhaps the contents of it might have given me some small uneasiness. But religion quite changes the nature of man, and makes us to receive all the dispensations of providence with resignation and thankfulness. Of this, dearest Sir, I hope you have had an experimental proof, in bearing up with courage and resolution under those acute pains the Almighty was pleased to visit you with last Sunday, and with which, perhaps, his infinite wisdom and goodness may continue to visit you longer. My dear friend (if I mistake not) used to say, he was afraid God did not love him, because he did not chasten him. Behold then, now the hand of the Lord is upon you, not so much to punish, as to purify your soul. Not in anger but in love. Pray therefore in your easy intervals, that you may know, wherefore the Lord contendeth with you, and that you may not come cankered out of the furnace of affliction. Offer up every groan, every sigh, in the name of your dying, risen Redeemer, and doubt not, but they will be as prevalent as set times of prayer. Our being enabled to pray when sickness comes on us, doubtless, is to teach us the necessity of praying always, when we are in health. But, dear Mr. H. wants no such lessons, or excitements, I believe, to prayer. Methinks I could bear some of your pain for you, if that would give you comfort. But as it is impossible, O let me never cease most earnestly to beseech my heavenly Father, that he would sanctify this his fatherly correction to you, and that the sense of your weakness may add strength to your faith, and seriousness to your repentance. Poor Mr. Pauncefoot, I find, is visited in a far more grievous manner. Dear good man, surely the time of his dissolution (I should say of his coronation) draweth near. See, dear Mr. H. through what tribulations we must enter into glory. Be pleased to give my hearty love and thanks to him for his last kind letter. Beg him not to cease praying for me, unworthy as I am. And, I hope, I shall not be wanting in returning his kindness in the same manner. But alas, I have nothing to depend on, but the merits of a crucified Redeemer to have my poor petitions answered. But does dear Mrs. H. complain of deadness and coldness in devotion? Alas poor woman! let her not be disheartened. This is a complaint, which all the children of God have made. And we must take a great deal of pains with our hearts, must pray often and long, before we shall be able to pray well. And the only way I can think of, to shame ourselves out of deadness in prayer, is to censure and condemn, to humble and bewail ourselves for it every time we go upon our knees, at least every time we solemnly retire to converse with God. But why does dear Mrs. H. so much as think of omitting but once the receiving of the holy sacrament? Or if satan does put such thoughts in her head, why does not she repel them with the utmost abhorrence? Alas! should the devil gain his point here, would not the ridiculing world say, Mrs. H. began to build, but had not wherewith to finish. I have seen too many fatal instances of the inexpressible danger and sad consequences of leaving off any one means of grace, not to encourage Mrs. H. stedfastly to persevere in the good way she has begun; and would exhort her, in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, to labour daily to mortify and subdue her corruptions, not wilfully to indulge herself in any ill habit, custom, or temper, and then assure herself, one time or another, Christ will be made known unto her in breaking of bread. But what shall I say, dear Sir, about Mr. W. &c. &c.? Alas! I find, they are all in the gall of bitterness, in the very bondage of iniquity, and all I can do, is to pity and pray for them. I find more and more, that where true religion is wanting, there is confusion and every evil work. But why is my honoured mother so solicitous about a few paultry things, that will quickly perish? Why will she not come and see her youngest son, who will endeavour to be a Joseph to her, before she dies? What makes my dear friend and his kind wife, give me another invitation to Gloucester? Alas! have I not wearied and been expensive enough to you already? I hope to send you, in a short time, two guineas towards paying for Mr. Henry’s Exposition. I wish I could spare more, but time will bring all things to pass. You see what a large letter I have written to you to make amends for the many short ones, I have sent lately. Though I believe you may say of mine, the quite contrary to what I say of yours; the shorter the better. My due respects to all friends, and believe me to be, in the utmost sincerity, Dearest Sir,
Your and Mrs. H.’s affectionate friend and humble servant,
G. W.
LETTER XIX.
To the Same.
Oxon, Nov. 5, 1736.
Dearest Sir,