G. W.
LETTER DCCCLXXIII.
To Mr. T——.
London, Dec. 21, 1750.
I Have been lately near the gates of death, which has hindered my answering your kind letter as soon as I proposed. Accept a few, though loving lines now. I hope they will find you entered upon your trials, and longing to preach the gospel, which you have felt to be the power of God to the salvation of your soul. Every line of your letter seemed to have this call in it, “Rise, T——r, rise,—the harvest is great; the labourers are few: pray the Lord of the harvest to send thee, and many more like-minded, into the harvest.” I cannot write much at present. Inclosed you have a few extracts. That from Lady H——n, came last week when she was dangerously ill. May the Lord continue her useful life! I am now entering upon my seven-and-thirtieth year. O that I may begin to live to him, who hath lived and died for me! I shall be glad to know your friend’s answer about Georgia. If the Lord raises up a solid, heavenly-minded, learned young man for a tutor, I shall be glad. Nothing, I believe, but sickness or death, will prevent my going over next year. Methinks the winter is long; I want to take the field again. Could you send me all Mr. G——’s weekly papers. We prayed heartily last Monday for the awakened Hollanders. I have heard of several lately awakened here. To the blessed and glorious Jesus be all the praise. My dear friend, my heart leaps at the very mention of his name. When I muse of him, the fire kindles. O that you and I may shew forth his praise while we have a tongue! Pray remember me to all in the kindest manner, and beg them not to forget unworthy me. Let not my being so slow in answering your last, prevent your writing speedily to, my dear Mr. T——,
Yours most affectionately in our dearest Lord,
G. W.