Dear Mrs. C——,
HAD I wings like a dove, how often would I have fled to Bethesda since my departure from it. I could almost say, that the few last hours I was there, were superior in satisfaction to any hours I ever enjoyed. But I must go about my heavenly Father’s business.—For this, I am a poor but willing pilgrim, and give up all that is near and dear to me on this side eternity.—This week I expect to embark in the Friendship, Captain Ball; but am glad of the letters from Bethesda before I go.—They made me weep, and caused me to throw myself prostrate before a prayer-hearing and promise-keeping God.—He will give strength, he will give power. Fear not; you are now I believe where the Lord would have you be, and all will be well.—I repose the utmost confidence in you, under God, and verily believe that I shall not be disappointed of my hope.—I should have been glad if the apples had been sent in the boat; they would have been useful in the voyage.—But Jesus can stay me with better apples.—May you and all my dear family have plenty of these! I imagine it will not be long before I return from England. Now Bethesda would be pleasant. God make it more and more so to you and to all. I can only recommend you in the most endearing manner to the ever-blessed Jesus, and my unworthy vile self to your continual prayers, as being, dear Mrs. C——,
Yours most affectionately in our blessed Lord,
G. W.
P. S. I hope that one of the players is snatched as a brand out of the burning. Grace! grace!
LETTER MLXXVII.
To the Reverend Mr. G——.
London, May 10, 1755.
Reverend and very dear Sir,