LETTER XLIII.
To the Same.
London, Jan. 27, 1739.
Dear Sir,
IF I forget Mr. H. and his wife, may my right-hand forget her cunning. Excess of business alone was the cause of my silence. I sleep but little, very little. Had I a thousand hands, I could employ them all. I scarce know what it is to have an idle moment. It is late now. I have just been expounding. God fills me with his spirit, and I must redeem a little time to write to dear Mr. H. Indeed, indeed I love you in the bowels of Jesus Christ. O when shall I return your past favours! I thank you for blessing God on my behalf. I want a thousand tongues to praise him. He still works by me more and more. Subscriptions for erecting an orphan-house come in a-pace. On Monday sevennight, God willing, I set out for Bristol, with Mr. Seward, and from thence propose coming to Gloucester. Oh that it may be in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of peace! Mr. Howel Harris, and I, are correspondents, blessed be God! May I follow him, as he does Jesus Christ. How he outstrips me! Fye upon me, fye upon me. How does my brother? My love to him and all. I long to see you and yours, and to give you repeated assurances of my being, dear Sir,
Your’s eternally,
G. W.