My dear Friend,
WHO knows what a day may bring forth? Last night I was called to sacrifice my Isaac; I mean to bury my only child and son about four months old. Many things occurred to make me believe he was not only to be continued to me, but to be a preacher of the everlasting gospel. Pleased with the thought, and ambitious of having a son of my own, so divinely employed, satan was permitted to give me some wrong impressions, whereby, as I now find, I misapplied several texts of scripture. Upon these grounds I made no scruple of declaring, “that I should have a son, and that his name was to be John.” I mentioned the very time of his birth, and fondly hoped, that he was to be great in the sight of the Lord. Every thing happened according to the predictions, and my wife having had several narrow escapes while pregnant, especially by her falling from a high horse, and my driving her into a deep ditch in a one-horse chaise a little before the time of her lying-in, and from which we received little or no hurt, confirmed me in my expectation, that God would grant me my heart’s desire. I would observe to you, that the child was even born in a room, which the master of the house had prepared as a prison for his wife for coming to hear me. With joy would she often look upon the bars and staples and chains which were fixed in order to keep her in. About a week after his birth, I publickly baptized him in the Tabernacle, and in the company of thousands solemnly gave him up to that God, who gave him to me. A hymn, too fondly composed by an aged widow, as suitable to the occasion, was sung, and all went away big with hopes of the child’s being hereafter to be employed in the work of God; but how soon are all their fond, and as the event hath proved, their ill-grounded expectations blasted, as well as mine. House-keeping being expensive in London, I thought best to send both parent and child to Abergavenny, where my wife had a little house of my own, the furniture of which, as I thought of soon embarking for Georgia, I had partly sold, and partly given away. In their journey thither, they stopped at Gloucester at the Bell-Inn, which my brother now keeps, and in which I was born. There, my beloved was cut off with a stroke. Upon my coming here, without knowing what had happened, I enquired concerning the welfare of parent and child; and by the answer, found that the flower was cut down. I immediately called all to join in prayer, in which I blessed the Father of mercies for giving me a son, continuing it to me so long, and taking it from me so soon. All joined in desiring that I would decline preaching ’till the child was buried; but I remembered a saying of good Mr. Henry, “that weeping must not hinder sowing,” and therefore preached twice the next day, and also the day following; on the evening of which, just as I was closing my sermon, the bell struck out for the funeral. At first, I must acknowledge, it gave nature a little shake, but looking up I recovered strength, and then concluded with saying, that this text on which I had been preaching, namely, “all things worked together for good to them that love God,” made me as willing to go out to my son’s funeral, as to hear of his birth. Our parting from him was solemn. We kneeled down, prayed, and shed many tears, but I hope tears of resignation: And then, as he died in the house wherein I was born, he was taken and laid in the church where I was baptized, first communicated, and first preached. All this you may easily guess threw me into very solemn and deep reflection, and I hope deep humiliation; but I was comforted from that passage in the book of Kings, where is recorded the death of the Shunamite’s child, which the Prophet said, “The Lord had hid from him;” and the woman’s answer likewise to the Prophet when he asked, “Is it well with thee? Is it well with thy husband? Is it well with thy child?” And she answered, “It is well.” This gave me no small satisfaction. I immediately preached upon the text the day following at Gloucester, and then hastened up to London, preached upon the same there; and though disappointed of a living preacher by the death of my son; yet I hope what happened before his birth, and since at his death, hath taught me such lessons, as, if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more cautious, more sober-minded, more experienced in satan’s devices, and consequently more useful in his future labours to the church of God. Thus, “out of the eater comes forth meat, and out of the strong comes forth sweetness.” Not doubting but our future life will be one continued explanation of this blessed riddle, I commend myself and you to the unerring guidance of God’s word and spirit, and am
Yours, &c.
G. W.
The HYMN mentioned in the foregoing Letter.
I.
POOR helpless babe! dear little child!
John be thy name, thy nature mild;
Great may’st thou be in Jesu’s sight,
A babe in whom he takes delight.