New-York, Sept. 2, 1754.
Dear Mrs. S——,
I AM much, yea very much indebted to you for your works of faith, and the labours which, I believe, have proceeded from unfeigned love to the ever-loving and ever-lovely Jesus. Put all to his account. You shall be rewarded at the resurrection of the just: then shall the righteous shine forth like the sun, O happy, happy time! Lord Jesus, hasten it! May the blessed Spirit prepare us to meet him! Methinks I hear you say, “I will not lose a moment.” The Lord strengthen you in this and every holy resolution! You must pray that I may not flag in the latter stages of my road. Blessed be God, we had good seasons between Philadelphia and New-York. In the New-Jerusalem more glorious seasons await us yet. At present I can no more. Be pleased to remember me in the kindest manner to all, and believe me to be, dear Mr. S——,
Your assured friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MLVIII.
New-York, September 2, 1754.
My dear Doctor,
MAY this find you rejoicing in the holy comforts of that infinitely great and gracious physician, to whose all-powerful blood and righteousness, you and I are so much beholden! Surely he hath been loving unto us. O that we may recover our first love, and return and do our first work! Jesus is able and willing to do this for us. The return of backsliders, and forgiving those who cannot forgive themselves, is his heart’s delight. He spares when we deserve punishment, and in his wrath thinketh upon mercy. Fly then, my dear friend, to his loving arms and heart; he waits to be gracious. Let us wait on him in the way of duty, and we shall find that his arm is not shortened, but that he is still able and willing to save to the uttermost all that come to the Father through him. Lord Jesus, who can tell how far thy uttermost extendeth! None but thy own eternal Self: surely it must extend to the vilest of sinners, or it never could have reached ill and hell-deserving me! Help me, my dear Sir, to cry Grace! grace! We had pleasant seasons in our way hither, and here people attend gladly. Some time this week I expect to sail for Rhode-Island. Remember a poor but willing pilgrim, and accept this as a token, that neither you nor yours are forgotten by, my dear friend,