LETTER MLXXXIX.
To the Reverend Mr. H——n.
London, July 25, 1755.
My dear Friend,
I RECEIVED your kind letter, and have since heard of your removal from Indian land. I cannot help commending you for it, since I know various places, where you might do as much good in a week, as in those parts for years. Poor Indian land! I fear thou hast had thy call! May Jesus secure the remaining few, and be their refuge from every impending storm! O my dear friend, you and I shall find more and more, that we must be made perfect by sufferings. If we do not meet them in our younger days, we shall certainly have them in the decline of life. Trials, at such a season, are like the finishing strokes of the Limner’s pencil. They serve, in the hands of the holy Spirit, to compleat the new creature, and make it fit for heaven. Happy they who can say, “He knoweth the way that I take:” when they are tried, they shall come forth like gold. God only knows what a trying season lies before us. It is to be feared, that we are upon the eve of a bloody war. O that the war between Michael and the Dragon may go on! The prospect is promising. Several ministers preach Christ boldly; and as for my own poor feeble labours, the blessed Jesus vouchsafes to crown them with success. So many paths lie open, that I can scarce tell which to take first. Through frequent preaching and travelling, and a multiplicity of business, I have been so weakened, that I am obliged to retire for a little relaxation, and to get leisure to write you these few lines. May they find you and yours rejoicing in tribulation, and increasing with all the increase of God! I commend you, and all enquiring friends, to the care of Him, who never faileth those who trust in him, and entreat the continuance of your prayers in behalf of, my dear friend,
Yours, &c. in our common Lord,
G. W.