LETTER CCCCXXXIX.
To Mr. B——, at the Orphan-house.
Cambuslang, August 17, 1742.
AND has my dear brother B—— got the start of me? What, put into prison before me? I wish you joy, my dear brother, with all my heart. Had I been at Savannah, surely I would gladly have come (and if there had been need) gladly have washed your feet. I doubt not but your imprisonment was for Christ’s sake. I am persuaded, the letter from your friend that doubted, was the sorest stab of all; but all is intended to draw us from the creature, even from the new creature, and bring us nearer to the Creator, God blessed for evermore. Paul’s friends deserted, and no doubt judged him. “All they in Asia forsook me,” says he; and again, “At my first trial no man stood by me;” and what follows? but “the Lord stood by me:” and will he not, dear brother, also stand by you? I cannot help believing but that Georgia will yet be a glorious colony. The counsel of God shall stand. He surely put it into my heart to build the Orphan-house. He certainly brought you to Georgia to superintend it. He will bless you and yours. I join in blessing God with you, and in admiring how he has spread a table for my dear family in that wilderness. But what shall we say? The Lord loves to encourage faith; and since his honour is so much concerned, I am sure he will vindicate it, and never suffer his enemies to say thus of us, “There, there, so would we have it.” I am kept from the least doubting; and God only knows how many prayers of faith I have put up for you. I have often wished as it were for the wings of a dove, that I might fly unto you, and take you one by one into my unworthy arms, and weep over you with tears of love. Blessed be God, the time draws near apace. I am just now about to publish a further account of the Orphan-house, and hope shortly to collect some more money towards its support. I am blessed with far greater success than ever, and satan roars louder. You will see by what I here send, how the archers of different classes shoot at me; but the Lord (for ever adored be his never-failing love) causes my bow to abide in strength, and enables me to triumph in every place. The comforts and success the Lord gives to me, is unspeakable. Last Lord’s day, I believe there were here thirty thousand people, and above two thousand five hundred communicants. The work spreads, and I believe will yet spread. My bodily strength is daily renewed, and I mount on the wings of faith and love like an eagle. I can only cry Grace! grace! My dear brother, I feel every day more and more, that I am a poor, very poor sinner. I often wonder why Jesus suffers me to live, much more to speak for him. But he will have mercy on whom he will have mercy. O free grace! Oh unparalleled love of an infinitely condescending God! Whilst I am musing, the fire kindles. Surely we shall have a happy meeting in Georgia. My Master will, I trust, come along with me. Otherwise, may I not go up hence. In the mean while, I pray him to quicken and revive your dear souls, and fill you as with new wine. Thus he deals with me and mine daily. I am retired for a day, on purpose to write letters. The Lord bless them to your dear souls, whom I love in the bowels of Jesus Christ. I wish you had told me who stood by at Savannah and brought you refreshment. Greet them, and give them particular thanks in my name. My heart is full; I know not how to stop. But I must write to the trustees, and to others. I heard nothing of the affair, till I received your letter last week. A word or two of yours to Mr. O——, I think a little too harsh; but Paul spoke once a little too harsh to the high-priest. Our Jesus will overlook this; and reward you for your imprisonment by and by. Adieu! my dear man, adieu! Forget not,
Ever yours,
G. W.
LETTER CCCCXL.
To the Honourable Trustees for Georgia.
Cambuslang, Aug. 17, 1742.