Dear Mrs. H——e,
MY last to you left me just arrived at Charles-Town. This leaves me an old inhabitant of, or rather a worthless sojourner at Bethesda. Both, I hope, will find the worthy Mrs. H——e and her daughter enjoying thriving souls in healthy bodies. Every thing here exceeds my most sanguine expectations. I am almost tempted to say, “It is good for us to be here.” But all must give way to gospel ranging: Divine employ!
For this let men revile my name,
I’d shun no cross, I’d fear no shame:
All hail, reproach——
I hope London friends meet with enough of this. It is bad, more than bad, when the offence of the cross ceaseth. This cannot be, till we cease to be crucified to the world, and the world crucified to us: and when that is the case, things are very bad. As Mrs. H——s’s heart and house are opened to so many ministers of a despised Jesus, she must expect a double share. Not only reproach from the world, but judgings and censures from the narrow-hearted bigotted part of the Church. But she hath counted the cost; she knows in whom she hath believed, and who will be her exceeding great reward. God will not have us take up with any thing short of himself. Leaving you to cry, Grace! grace! with ten thousand thanks for all unmerited favours, I must hasten to subscribe myself
Your most obliged and ready servant, in our common Lord,
G. W.