The Works of the Reverend
George Whitefield, M.A.
Transcriber’s Notes
The cover image was provided by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
Punctuation has been standardized.
Most of the non-common abbreviations used to save space in printing have been expanded to the non-abbreviated form for easier reading.
This book was written in a period when many words had not become standardized in their spelling. Words may have multiple spelling variations or inconsistent hyphenation in the text. These have been left unchanged unless indicated with a Transcriber’s Note.
Footnotes are identified in the text with a superscript number and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which they appear.
Transcriber’s Notes are used when making corrections to the text or to provide additional information for the modern reader. These notes are identified by ♦♠♥♣ symbols in the text and are shown immediately below the paragraph in which they appear.
THE
WORKS
OF THE REVEREND
GEORGE WHITEFIELD, M.A.
Late of Pembroke-College, Oxford,
And Chaplain to the Rt. Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon.
CONTAINING
All his SERMONS and TRACTS
Which have been already published:
WITH
A Select COLLECTION of LETTERS,
Written to his most intimate Friends, and Persons of Distinction, in England, Scotland, Ireland, and America, from the Year 1734, to 1770, including the whole Period of his Ministry.
ALSO
Some other Pieces on Important Subjects,
never before printed; prepared by Himself for the Press.
To which is prefixed,
An ACCOUNT of his LIFE,
Compiled from his Original Papers and Letters.
VOLUME III.
LONDON:
Printed for Edward and Charles Dilly, in the Poultry;
and Messrs. Kincaid and Bell, at Edinburgh.
MDCCLXXI.
LETTERS.
LETTER DCCCCLXV.
To Mr. J—— B——.
London, February 1, 1753.
My very dear friend,
THOUGH I have had no answer to my last, yet I suppose it hath reached your hands, and I am glad to hear that [♦]Ephrata plantation is in some degree opened, and thereby a preparation made for a future progress this spring. Mr. Fox not coming, and going upon lumber, hath been a great loss to my poor family, but I hope ere now all is settled, and the sawing carried on with vigour. That seems to be the thing which providence points out at present, and as so many negroes are ready, it will be a pity that Bethesda should not do something, as well as the neighbouring planters. If it was not that I am erecting a large place for public worship, eighty feet square, and am called to preach to so many thousands in various places, I would come over immediately myself. But perhaps it will be best to stay till the new Governor is appointed and embarks, or at least to come a little before him. I hear that Colonel Vanderdison will in all probability be the man; they are determined I find to have a military person. With this, I send your brother a power to dispose of Providence plantation, and I hope to hear shortly that Doctor B——, with your assistance, hath purchased more negroes,—My dear friend, do exert yourself a little for me in this time of my absence, and I trust the Orphan-house affairs will shortly be so ordered, that none shall be troubled about its affairs, but my own domestics. As Nathaniel P—— is so willing, and hath hitherto behaved so faithfully, I have sent him a full power in conjunction with Mrs. W—— to act under you. The man and woman that bring this, are with their son indented to me, and I have an excellent school mistress and a young student, engaged to come over shortly. Ere long, I suppose we shall have a large family. Lord grant it may be a religious one! I would have nothing done in respect to the building, besides repairing the piazza, and what else is absolutely necessary, till I come. Perhaps I may bring a carpenter along with me, who will stay some years. I cannot tell what can induce me to take care of a place, where the gospel is so little regarded, unless it be a principle of faith. Surely it will not always be so. What difference is there between Georgia, and several parts of England? Here thousands and ten thousands run, and ride miles upon miles to hear the gospel.—There—but I do not love to think of it. O my dear friend, whatever others do, may you and your houshold serve the Lord! I see there is no happiness, but in keeping near to Jesus Christ.—But this prosperity,—this worldly mindedness,—how many fools hath it destroyed; how many of God’s own children hath it awfully bewildered! May the Lord keep all my dear friends clear of this dangerous rock! My love to all. How is Mr. V——? Pray do your utmost to bring about a reconciliation between him and Mr. B——. I could give several particular and powerful reasons; at present I can add no more. My dear friend, pray for us, and exert yourself for Bethesda; Bethesda’s God will richly reward you.
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
[♦] “Ephratah” replaced with “Ephrata” for consistency.
LETTER DCCCCLXVI.
To Lady H——n.
London, February 9, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
IT gives me pain, when any of your Ladyship’s letters lie by me unanswered,—I would always write immediately if I could. For many days I have been much engaged, but can now refrain no longer. Your Ladyship’s letter was immediately forwarded to Philadelphia.—It will be an acceptable present to the good old Governor. I wish Mr. T—— may not make too great compliances,—but I fear instability is his weak side. I have not heard from South Audley Street, since I wrote last to your Ladyship.—The Moravian’s outward scheme, I am apt to believe will soon be disconcerted. Strange! Why will God’s children build Babels? Why will they flatter themselves, that God owns and approves of them, because he suffers them to build high? In mercy to them, such buildings, of whatever kind, must come down. I hope our new-intended tabernacle is not of this nature. It would have pleased your Ladyship, to have seen how willingly the people gave last Lord’s day. At seven in the morning we collected fifty pounds, in the evening one hundred and twenty-six pounds. Blessed be God, we have now near nine hundred pounds in hand. He that hath begun, I trust will enable us to go on, and bring out the top-stone, shouting Grace! Grace! Our Lord still continues to work in our old despised place. I trust it hath been a Bethel to many, many souls. This your Ladyship knows may be any where. Clifton’s a Bethel when God is there. That your Ladyship may enjoy more and more of the divine presence, and increase with all the increase of God, is the continual prayer of, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXVII.
To Mr. G——.
London, February 19, 1753.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
I HAVE two of your kind letters lying by me unanswered.—I am not usually so dilatory, but business and bodily weakness have prevented me. At present, I have a cold and fever upon me, but I preach on, hoping one day or another to die in my work. One Mr. Steward, a dear minister of Christ, that began to be popular in the church, entered into his rest last week. I saw him just before he expired. Methinks I hear him say, “Love Christ more, and serve him better.” O that I may do so in earnest! For indeed my obligations increase continually. We have had a blessed winter. Many have been added to our flock.—Next week I intend, God willing, to lay the first brick of our new tabernacle. I am now looking up for direction about my removal.—Which are the best seasons for the north? I should be glad to know speedily. Have you the first account you wrote of your conversion? Or have you leisure to draw up a short narrative of the rise and progress of the work of God in your parts? A dear christian minister in Scotland, is about to publish two volumes, relative to the late awakenings in various places. Such things should be transmitted to posterity; in heaven all will be known. Thanks be to God that there is such a rest remaining for his dear people. I am too impatient to get at it. But who can help longing to see Jesus? What but a hope and prospect of furthering his glorious gospel, can reconcile us to this aceldama, this wide howling wilderness? If we had not our beloved to lean on, what should we do? Go on, my dear Sir, in his strength; I wish you much, yea very much prosperity. The Lord bless you, and all the dear souls in your parts, with all spiritual blessings. I am glad you have received the books. [♦]I am now publishing two more sermons, and a small collection of hymns for public worship. Benedictus benedicat et benedicentur. I commend you and all to his never-failing mercy, and myself to your continual prayers, as being, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
[♦] duplicate word “I” removed
LETTER DCCCCLXVIII.
To C—— W——.
London, March 3, 1753.
My dear Friend,
I THANK you and your brother most heartily for the loan of the chapel. Blessed be God, the work goes on well.—On Thursday morning, the first brick of our new tabernacle was laid with awful solemnity. I preached from Exodus the twentieth, and the latter part of the twenty-fourth verse; “In all places where I record my name, I will come unto thee and bless thee.” Afterwards we sung, and prayed for God’s blessing in all places, where his glorious name is recorded. The wall is now about a yard high. The building is to be eighty feet square. It is upon the old spot. We have purchased the house, and if we finish what we have begun, shall be rent-free for forty-six years. We have above eleven hundred pounds in hands. This I think is the best way to build. Mr. Steward’s death so affected me, that when I met the workman that night to contract about the building, I could scarce bear to think of building tabernacles. Strange! that so many should be so soon discharged, and we continued! Eighteen years have I been waiting for the coming of the son of God; but I find we are immortal till our work is done. O that we may never live to be ministered unto, but to minister! Mr. Steward spoke for his Lord as long as he could speak at all. He had no clouds nor darkness. I was with him, till a few minutes before he slept in Jesus. I have good news from several parts; a door is opening at Winchester. Surely the little leaven will ferment, till the whole kingdom be leavened. Even so, Lord Jesus, Amen! Pray how does our elect Lady? I hope to write to her Ladyship next post. Joint love attends you and yours, and your brother and his houshold.—That all may increase with all the increase of God, is still the earnest prayer of, my dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER [♦]DCCCCLXIX.
To Mr. M——.
London, March 10, 1753.
My dear Mr. M——,
I AM glad you have had such good times. I was grieved that Mr. E—— was taken from London, because Mr. M—— was taken ill, and a carnal preacher put up in his room. But God’s thoughts are not as our thoughts. Let this consideration reconcile you to my not preaching at Mr. B——’s. I went as far as Mrs. S——’s, but so many things occurred, that I went no further. You may hear more when we meet again. I have preached at Spitalfields chapel twice. Both the Mr. W——s are agreed, as the younger brother writes me word, in answer to my letter. Let brotherly love continue! I do not like writing against any body, but I think, that wisdom which dwells with prudence, should direct you not to fill Mr. W——s people (who expect you will serve them) with needless jealousies. He that believeth doth not make haste.—I therefore wait, being assured of this, that every plant which our heavenly Father hath not planted shall be rooted out. I hope to see the time, when you will talk less of persons and things, and more of Him, who is the common head of his whole mystical body. This, and this alone can make and keep you steady in yourself, and extensively useful to others. I am glad you know when persons are justified. It is a lesson I have not yet learnt. There are so many stony-ground hearers that receive the word with joy, that I have determined to suspend my judgment, till I know the tree by its fruits. You will excuse this freedom. I love you with a disinterested love, I only wish you may be happy in Jesus. This will make you see things with new eyes, and give you such a freedom of heart as is unspeakable, and full of glory. For the present I must bid you adieu. That the Lord of all Lords may confirm, strengthen, stablish, and settle you in his love, is the earnest prayer of, my dear Mr. M——,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
[♦] “DCCLXIX.” replaced with “DCCCCLXIX.”
LETTER DCCCCLXX.
To Mr. S——.
London, March 21, 1753.
My very dear friend,
BY last Monday’s waggon there was sent a box of books. May the Redeemer own and bless what is sent in it! Then all will be well. I know your prayers will not be wanting. I am glad you have found out another thief, that lay hid in the chambers of imagery, which are in your heart. Time and temptation will draw out ten thousand more, which as yet, you know nothing of. Happy they, who can discover, pluck out, and cut off their right hand and right eye corruptions. This must be done, or we shall only take up with the bare semblance of holiness. The Redeemer must sit as a refiner’s fire upon our hearts, or we shall never be purified as gold or silver. This is our comfort, when we are tried we shall come forth like gold. The offences that we meet with in the church, are most trying;—therefore they are permitted to come. I wish my dear Mr. G——, as well as yourself, may learn experience from what hath happened, and never run yourselves into needless difficulties. What is happening to the Moravians is no more than I have long expected, and spoken of to many friends. Their scheme is so antichristian in almost every respect, that I am amazed the eyes of the English brethren have not long since been opened, and the Babel stopt at the first. But the glorious God generally suffers such buildings to go high, that their fall may be more conspicuous. May the builders rise (I mean as to spirituals) by their falls, and gain by their losses! That is all the harm I wish them. My dear man, what a blessed thing it is to live and walk in the simplicity of the gospel! How happy is that man, who being neither fond of money, numbers, nor power, goes on day by day without any other scheme, than a general intention to promote the common salvation amongst people of all denominations. Will you pray that I may be thus minded? I cease not to pray for you and yours, and my other dear friends at Leeds; and I would set out immediately for the north, was I not obliged to be here in about two months, to attend and give further orders about our building. But some time in the summer—What?—I hope to see the fields white, ready unto harvest again, and to rejoice together with you in our common Lord.—In the mean while, let us be busy for so blessed a Master, and be continually pressing forward towards the mark for the prize of our high calling. The Lord Jesus say Amen! Adieu. With joint love to all, I subscribe myself, my dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXI.
To Mr. G——.
Norwich, April 17, 1753.
Dear Mr. G——,
IT hath given me concern, that your letter, with Mr. D——’s and Miss A——’s, have lain by me so long unanswered. Business, and not want of love, hath prevented my writing. Was it not sinful, I could wish for a thousand hands, a thousand tongues, and a thousand lives: all should be employed night and day, without ceasing, in promoting the glory of the ever-lovely, ever-loving Jesus. Thanks be to his great name for reviving his work in the midst of the years. I trust that his people every where will be made to sing, “The Winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, and the voice of the turtle is heard in the land.” All things promise well at London; and I hope you will yet see greater things than ever in the North. Some time this Summer I hope to see you all again. In the mean while, you must not fail to pray for me. I must now begin to enter upon my Spring circuit. For these three days past, I have been preaching here twice a-day. In the mornings we have been quiet, but in the evenings the sons of Belial have been somewhat rude. The place built here for public worship, is much larger than yours at Newcastle; and, I believe, hundreds of truly awakened souls attend. What cannot God do? What will the end of this be? The destruction of Jericho.—The rams-horns must go round, till her tow’ring walls fall down. Who would but be one of these rams-horns? My dear Sir, let us not be ashamed of the cross of Christ: it is lined with love, and will ere long be exchanged for a crown. Jesus himself will put it on our heads. I am called away, and therefore cannot enlarge. To-morrow, God willing, I return to London, and hope soon to get time to answer my other Newcastle correspondents. In the mean while, pray remember me to them and all in the most cordial manner, and beg them never, never to cease praying for, my dear Sir,
Their and your most affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXII.
To Mr. R—— K——n.
Norwich, April 18, 1753.
My very dear Friend,
HOW does God delight to exceed even the hopes, and to disappoint the fears of his weak, though honest-hearted people! In spite of all opposition, he hath caused us to triumph even in Norwich. Thousands attend twice every day, and hear with the greatest eagerness. I hope it will appear yet more and more, that God hath much people here. I am greatly importuned to stay over Lord’s-day, but I hope to be in Spitalfields on Saturday evening, and to spend the holydays in London. O that they may prove glorious days of the Son of Man! Thanks be to God, it is the christian’s privilege to keep holyday all the year round. “Christ, our passover, is sacrificed for us,” and we are called to keep a perpetual feast. Happy, happy they, who know what it is to banquet on the love of Jesus. Surely it passeth all understanding. Of this happiness, you and yours have been made partakers. What need have we then to cry out, “What shall we render unto the Lord for all his mercies!” O my dear Sir, let us keep close to our loving Lord, and not suffer the noise and hurry of business, to rob us of one moment’s communion and fellowship with the ever-blessed God. I commend you both to his never-failing mercy; and wishing you, from my inmost soul, the very best of blessings, even the sure mercies of David, I subscribe myself, my dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXIII.
To Mr. D——.
London, April 27, 1753.
Dear Sir,
ON Saturday evening a never-failing Redeemer brought me safe to London, where I have been indisposed ever since. But I shall little regard the weakness and indisposition of my body, if I can but have the pleasure of hearing, if not before, yet at the great day, that good was done to one precious soul at Norwich. Blessed be God for the seed sown there. I doubt not but it will be watered with the dew of his heavenly blessing, and bring forth a divine increase. O that it may spring up, and bear fruit abundantly in the heart of you and yours! My poor prayers shall not be wanting in your behalf. This is the only return I can make to you both, for the great kindnesses conferred on me at your house. You know who hath promised, “That a cup of cold water, given for his name’s sake, shall not lose its reward.” What a Saviour is this! Who would but love and serve him! Surely his service is perfect freedom! I hope all my dear Norwich friends will find it so every day. Be pleased to salute them all most affectionately, as they come in your way. I trust they will remember me at the throne of grace. You all know my name: I am the chief of sinners, and less than the least of all saints, but
Their and your obliged friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXIV.
London, May 1, 1753.
My dear David,
DO you enquire where I am? I answer, in London, longing to come to Leeds, and yet withheld hitherto by His providence who ordereth all things well. Let us have a little more patience, and then in a few weeks I hope to have a blessed range in the North. God’s time I have always found to be the best time in the end. Ere now, I suppose, Mr. L—— hath received my letter from Norwich. The word ran and was glorified there. Preaching so frequently, and riding hard, almost killed me; but what is my body in comparison of precious and immortal souls? O that this Spring may prove a Spring-time every day! Indeed I want to begin to begin to do something for Jesus. At present I am engaged in a very ungrateful work; I mean, in writing against the leading Moravian brethren. When you see it, you will know whether there was not a cause: a second edition of the pamphlet is just come out. I fear the third part of the Journals cannot be procured: perhaps it is not much matter. I am sick of all I do, and stand astonished that the Redeemer still continues to make use of and bless me. Surely I am more foolish than any man; no one receives so much, and does so little. If you was here, we would weep together: friends know what it is to exchange hearts. May the common friend of sinners keep both our hearts near himself, and then all will be well. I cannot think of Leeds without weeping. I love that people, and pray that they may increase with all the increase of God. “Brethren, pray for us,” is still the earnest request of my poor heart. I am weaker than the weakest, less than the least of all. Write to me; I do not like your sending such round-about ways: friends letters always pay postage. O let us send often by post to heaven; I mean, on the wings of faith and love: from thence we shall assuredly receive good answers, though not always in our own way or time. For the present, farewel. My hearty love to all the true followers of the Lamb. I hope to write to all in time. In great haste, but much greater love, I subscribe myself,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXV.
To Mr. S——.
Haverford-west, May 27, 1753.
My dear Man,
THOUGH my wife hath not sent me the letter, yet she writes me, “That you have sent me a threatening one.” I thank you for it, though unseen, and say unto thee, if thou art thus minded, “What thou doest, do quickly.” Blessed be God, I am ready to receive the most traiterous blow, and to confess before God and man, all my weaknesses and failings, whether in public or private life. I laid my account of such treatment, before I published my expostulatory letter.—And your writing in such a manner, convinces me more and more, that Moravianism leads us to break through the most sacred ties of nature, friendship, and disinterested love. But my wife says you write, “That I am drunk with power and approbation.” Wast thou with me so long, my dear man, and hast thou known me no better? What power didst thou know me ever to grasp at? Or what power am I now invested with? None, that I know of, except that of being a poor pilgrim. And as for approbation, God knows, I have had little else besides the cross to glory in, since my first setting out.—May that be my glory still! But my wife says you write, “That I promised not to print.” I remember no such thing. I know you advised me not to do so, but I know of no promise made. If I remember, I had not then read Rimius; but after that, I both heard and saw so many things, that I could not, with a safe conscience, be silent. My wife says likewise, that you write, “The bulk of my letter is not truth.” So says Mr. Peter B——; nay, he says, “that all is a lie:” and I hear he declares so in the pulpit. So that whether I will or not, he obliges me to clear myself in print; and if he goes on in this manner, will not only constrain me to print a third edition, but also to publish the dreadful heap that lies behind. My answers to him, the Count, and my old friend H——, are almost ready. I cannot send them this post, but may have time ere long. O my dear man, let me tell thee, that the God of truth and love hates lies: and that cause can never be good, which needs equivocations and falshoods to support it. God willing, you shall have none from me. I have naked truth. I write out of pure love: and the Lord Jesus only knows, what unspeakable grief and pain I feel, when I think how many of my dear friends have so involved themselves. If any thing stops my pen, it will be concern for them, not myself. I value neither name, nor life itself, when the cause of God calls me to venture both. Thanks be to his great name, I can truly say, that for these many years last past, no sin hath had dominion over me; neither have I slept with the guilt of any known, unrepented sin lying upon my heart: if you will tell me of any, I will be obliged to you. In the mean while, I wish thee well in body and soul, and subscribe myself, my dear John,
Your very affectionate, though injured, friend for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXVI.
To Mr. R—— K——n.
Newman, June 2, 1753.
DO not think that I have forgotten either you or yours, or my promise of writing to you. Travelling and preaching have prevented me. Within a little more than a fortnight, I have rode three hundred and fifty miles, and preached above twenty times: with what success the great day will discover. Then we shall know who are stony-ground hearers, and who receive the word into honest and good hearts. At Narboth, Pembroke, Haverford-west, &c. congregations were large; and a gracious melting seemed to be among the people. Nature now cries out for a little ease, but faith says, “It is now just time to begin to begin.” Perhaps you may hear me preach next Thursday evening. London people attract me much. O that our hearts may be more and more drawn towards Jesus! I hope this will find you (like the impression of my seal) with your soul winged for heaven, and this poor, earthly, good-for-nothing world, under your feet. Could I fly away, you should never see me till we meet at the right hand of God. There the wicked, and even my own mother’s children, nay my spiritual children, will cease from troubling me, and my weary soul will enjoy an everlasting rest. I can now no more. I am baiting at an inn not far from Gloucester, hoping shortly to see you and yours grown in grace; and begging all your dear relations to accept hearty love, I subscribe myself, my dear, dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXVII.
To Mr. ——.
London, June 8, 1753.
My very dear Friend,
I WAS glad, at my return from a late excursion, to find a letter from you, especially as it bespoke your heart to be nearer than usual to the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. May this intimacy increase daily, and the fruits of it appear in your abounding in every good word and work! I find more and more, that one’s whole life ought to be a continued sacrifice of love. I am glad Mr. R—— is owned. This gives me hopes, that he begins to preach as when he first set out, and as he told a friend, a little before his embarking, “that he hoped he should.” It never went better with his heart than then. God keep him and all from further entanglements by fleshly wisdom and worldly policy! which I think have nothing to do with the work of the Lord. Mr. S—— can tell you what concern the B——n’s awful conduct hath given me. Surely if the Redeemer had not supported me, I should within these two months have died with grief. But I will say no more:—Jesus knows all things. He will not long bear with guile. You know my temper. The Lord help me in simplicity and godly sincerity to have my conversation in the world, and in the church! By this time twelvemonth (if in the land of the dying) I hope to see you. In the mean while, let Mr. S—— speak. I hope he hath succeeded to his wishes; and I pray earnestly that the God of the seas and of the dry land, may bring him safe to the desired haven. Ere long we shall all arrive, I trust, in Abraham’s harbour; from thence we shall never put out to sea any more. There the wicked world, and even God’s own children, will cease from troubling, and our weary souls enjoy an everlasting rest. May you and yours enter with a full gale! Let us write to, though we cannot as yet see each other. Our hearty love and respects await Mr. P——, and all enquiring friends. I am glad to hear Mr. T—— is coming over with Mr. D——. If they come with their old fire, I trust they will be enabled to do wonders. I and Messrs. W——’s are very friendly. I like them, because they go out and let the world see what they are at once; I suspect something wrong, when so much secrecy is required. But I must have done. Only let me tell you, that the Redeemer still owns my feeble labours. I have been a circuit of about 700 miles, and preached to many thousands. My body yet is upheld, and my soul rejoices in God my Saviour. Help me, help me to praise him. I thank you for what you have done for Mr. H——, and for all past favours. That grace, mercy and peace may be multiplied upon you and yours, every day and hour, is the earnest prayer of, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXVIII.
To Lady H——n.
London, June 20, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
I HAVE been unaccountably detained in London longer than I expected, but am just now setting out for Portsmouth. However, I cannot help sending your Ladyship the inclosed. It hath set me at liberty, and fully convinced me, against what a disguised spirit I have been testifying. At present, I shall go on in my old way, preaching the everlasting gospel. Blessed be God, it is successful here. We had a most glorious sacrament last Sunday in our new Tabernacle; the Master of the feast was with us of a truth. As I purpose returning from Portsmouth next Tuesday, I should think myself highly honoured by receiving a few lines from your Ladyship. May this find you in the blissful enjoyment of him, who I am persuaded is your Ladyship’s all in all! I can only add, that words cannot well express how much I am, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXIX.
To the Reverend Mr. T——.
Portsmouth, June 23, 1753.
My very dear Friend,
FROM April to near July, is a long time for a kind letter to lie by unanswered; but necessity hath no law. A great variety of circumstances hath occurred lately to prevent my corresponding with you, and many other dear friends. Some time next month perhaps you may be acquainted with them. I have thoughts of seeing Edinburgh then, though I must push hard to bring it about. I purpose at my return, to stay in London but one night, and then set out for the North. O for a gracious gale of divine influence! The sacred wind hath blown sweetly in our new Tabernacle; and I trust it will be said of this and that man, at the great day, that they were born of God there. At Bristol, in Wales, and Gloucestershire, our Lord was pleased to smile on my feeble labours; and here in this place are several who bring forth fruit unto God. Affairs go on well at Bethesda. Mr. T——, I find, is coming over in behalf of New-Jersey College. Lord, make us all flames of fire! The language of my soul is this, “Quicken me in thy way.” You must continue to pray for me; you must remember me in the kindest manner to all my dear friends, and to your father and relations in particular, as being assured, that I am, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXX.
To Mr. N——.
Portsmouth, June 23, 1753.
Dear Sir,
NOT want of love, but leisure, prevented my answering your kind letter much sooner. As I lead a pilgrim life, have a weak body, and am almost continually surrounded with a variety of trials and temptations, I cannot write so frequently as I otherwise would choose to do. However, my friends are always upon my heart and some time next month, I hope to see you, amongst the rest of my Edinburgh acquaintances, grown in grace, and upon the full stretch for Him who bled, and groaned, and died for us. If your trials are not over, and you have indeed entered upon the field of battle, I wish you joy. Fear not, neither be dismayed. Nil desperandum Christo duce. Let this be the language of your heart and mine:
Give me strength, O God of power,
Then let winds blow or thunders roar;
Thy faithful witness will I be:
’Tis fix’d—I can do all through Thee.
I need not inform you, dear Sir, that our Lord hath chosen the weak things of this world to confound the strong; and things that are not, to bring to nought the things that are. If it was not so, what should such a poor, weak, helpless wretch as I am do? In Jesus, and in him alone, is all my strength and support found. Still he continues to uphold me, and crown my feeble labours with success. In Wales, Gloucestershire, and Bristol, we have lately felt his power; and in our new Tabernacle at London, he hath also manifested forth his glory. O for a good gale in the North! Who knows but we may see each other some time the next month? I have thoughts of setting forwards from London next week. May the good Lord direct my goings in his way! You must desire all of the hospitals, and in the society, and all my other dear friends, to pray most earnestly for me. I retain my old name: I am the chief of sinners, and less than the least of all saints, but for Christ’s sake, dear Mr. N——,
Their and your most affectionate and willing friend and servant,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXI.
To Mr. S——.
Leicester, July 1, 1753.
My very dear Friend,
I CANNOT go farther (as Mr. Middleton returns to London to-morrow) without sending you a few lines. They bring good news, even that the Redeemer hath much owned and blessed the first part of my circuit. At Oulney we had two good meetings; and at Northampton our Lord filled his people as with new wine. One aged saint told me, “that the meeting-place was no other to him than the house of God, and the gate of heaven.” Several thousands attended; and I could indeed say, “It is good for me to be here.” Last night I came to this place quite fatigued in my body, but willing, I hope, to employ a thousand souls (if I had them) for the dear Lord Jesus. This is a cold place, but people stood very attentive this morning, and some were affected. To-morrow I must move to Nottingham. You and yours must promise to follow me with your prayers. I hope you will hear that they are answered. You may be assured of mine; they are your due; they are a poor, but as they are the only return I can make, I hope they will be accepted by, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXII.
To Mr. S——.
Leeds, July 7, 1753.
My dear D——,
WHAT! just come from the borders of the grave, and still capitulating! Will you never give up your whole heart to Him, who hath dealt so bountifully with you? Was this once done, you would not (especially as you have a competency) talk of a hundred a year, but you would count the work of the ministry its own wages, and esteem the reproach of Christ above all the riches in the universe. Pray remember what Moses said to Pharaoh, “not a hoof must be left behind.” Christ will have all or none. Halt no longer between two; sin no more by withholding from God what is his just due, lest a worse evil befall you. Accept all this in love. Your letter hath extorted it from me. I pity you amidst all your gaudy shew. The pleasure I have had but this week in preaching the gospel, I would not part with for a thousand worlds. Blessed be God, we have had sweet seasons on the road; and last night at this place, the cups of many ran over. O Lord, keep me a pilgrim, till thou art pleased to call me home! I can now no more. My hearty love to our dear Mr. H——. O that you was like-minded with him! Accept this as from one, who is indeed, dear Sir,
Your most affectionate friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXIII.
York, July 11, 1753.
My dear Mr. D——,
THUS far, but no farther, am I as yet advanced in my way to Scotland, and was I to comply with the pressing invitations of the Yorkshire people, I know not when I should get there. The fields are exceeding white, ready unto harvest; but by preaching thrice a day to great multitudes, my poor tabernacle is enfeebled, and I have such a cold that I cannot well write much. Strange, that I can do no more for Him who hath done and suffered so much for me! Be pleased to remember me to all; and acquaint dear Mr. and Mrs. S——, that I hope to send them an historical letter from Newcastle, where I expect to be next Lord’s-day. I shall be glad to hear that your soul prospers, and that all goes on well at the Tabernacle. I hope to see Edinburgh next week. My hearty love to all. Accept the same yourself, from, dear Mr. D——,
Your affectionate friend and servant for Jesus Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXIV.
To Mr. S——.
Newcastle, July 14, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
BEING, through the goodness of a never-failing Redeemer, just come hither, I sit down to perform my promise by writing to you. But where shall I begin, or where shall I end? Surely the goodness of the Lord to such a wretch as I am, is unspeakable. I will inform you of a little. After leaving Leicester, I went to Nottingham, where a great multitude came to hear, and I trust good was done, though a son of Belial endeavoured to disturb us. From thence I went to Sheffield, where we had two good meetings. The congregation in the afternoon consisted of several thousands. Here some dear friends from Leeds met me, two of which were my spiritual children, and all had been blessed under the word. The next morning we set out for Leeds, and in our way preached at Rotheram and Wakefield. At the former place, I had been disturbed twice or thrice, and was almost determined to preach there no more. But we are poor judges. A person told me, [♦]“That God had made me instrumental in converting his wife and brother,” who had both been bitter persecutors, but now gladly received me under their roof. After preaching, a young man was set at liberty, who had been groaning under the spirit of bondage four years; and whilst I was baptizing a child, the Holy Spirit was pleased to baptize several, one in particular with a holy fire. What we saw, and felt, and heard at Leeds, cannot well be expressed. Thousands attended daily; and on the Lord’s-day it was computed that near twenty thousand heard at once. I preached thrice, and the next day at [♠]Burstall and Bradford, where many thousands flocked also. Many were filled as with new wine; and as for myself, I scarce knew whether I was in heaven or on earth. On Tuesday morning, though we had drank plentifully before, yet our Lord kept the good wine till the last. We had a glorious parting-blessing. At York I preached four times. Twice we were disturbed, and twice we had sweet seasons. There is a good work begun there. The prospect all around is so glorious, I almost repent that I have engaged to go to Scotland. God willing, I shall come back as fast as possible. What a pity is it that I have but one body, and that a very weak one too. Lord, magnify thy strength in my weakness, and send me where thou wilt. Here I am most kindly received. How the Lord will be pleased to deal with me, you may know hereafter. I can now only entreat the continuance of the prayers of you and yours; and with repeated thanks for repeated favours, beg leave to subscribe myself, my very dear friend,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
[♦] Ending quote not shown in original text. Transcriber added it at his best guess.
[♠] “Bunstall” replaced with “Burstall”
LETTER DCCCCLXXXV.
To Lady H———n.
Newcastle, July 17, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
I WROTE to your Ladyship just before I set out for Portsmouth, and thought to have written again at my return, but was hindered by staying only one night at London. Ever since I have been upon the range for lost sinners, and blessed be God, have been much owned by him who delights to work by the meanest instruments. In Northamptonshire our cup ran over. In Leicester, the Redeemer caused us to triumph; and in Yorkshire, at Leeds and the adjacent places, I have sometimes scarce known whether I have been in heaven or earth. I have been enabled to preach thrice a day, and once at Leeds, perhaps to near twenty thousand, as they were computed. Indeed we kept holy-day there. Many came to me that were awakened at my former visits. Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thy free and unmerited mercy be all the glory! In my way hither I preached four times at York; twice we were disturbed, and twice all was quiet; and a sweet influence attended the word. I lodged at Mrs. G——’s, who keeps steady. She enquired most heartily after your Ladyship, and begged to be remembered in the most respectful manner. Hither I came on Saturday, and have preached seven times, and once at Sunderland, where a great multitude attended, and were deeply impressed. At five in the morning the great room is filled, and on Lord’s-day the congregation without was great indeed. Surely the shout of a king hath been amongst us. All is harmony and love. I am now going to a place called Sheep-hill, and shall return in the evening to preach here again. To-morrow, God willing, I set forwards to Scotland. I could almost wish this was to be the end of my circuit, for I want to go to various parts. Lord Jesus, magnify thy strength in my weakness, and send me where thou wilt! If your Ladyship pleases, this may be communicated to C—— W——, to whom I would write if I had time. I can only now entreat the continuance of your Ladyship’s prayers, and beg your Ladyship’s acceptance of repeated acknowledgments for repeated favours, from, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER [DCCCCLXXXV.]
To Mr. G——, at Glasgow.
Edinburgh, July 21, 1753.
YOURS I just now received, but know not what to say by way of answer. The inward discouragements I have felt for above a week, against coming to Scotland, have been very many. I have left a people full of fire. Thousands and thousands flocked to hear the glorious gospel. Awakenings I have heard of in every place; saints have been revived, and heaven as it were come down on earth. We have enjoyed perpetual Cambuslang seasons. My eyes gush out with tears of joy, (and I trust at the same time with godly sorrow for my vileness) at the very thought of it. My heart is quite broken, to think poor Scotland is so dead. O how gloomy hath been the aspect! I have been afraid of catching cold, though, alas! I am too too cold towards Him, who out of warm love bled and died for me. O that Glasgow friends, if I do come, may pray for me! I could scarce believe your letter, that your people would be glad to see such an ill and hell-deserving, good for nothing creature as I am. If I lose the opportunity of seeing you, I shall be disappointed indeed. I believe I shall keep to the time proposed. O time, time, how slowly dost thou go on! When shall I be wafted to an happy eternity? Often within these three weeks have I hoped to die in the embraces of my God. Had I a thousand souls and bodies they should be all itinerants for Jesus Christ. I want to see all on a flame of fire. You know, dear Sir, what fire I mean. O! break heart strings, break, and let the imprisoned soul be set at liberty. I want to go where I shall neither sin myself, nor see others sin any more. My tender love to all. I can no more for weeping. When I forget to pray for my ungrateful vile self,—then will my worthy and dear friend cease to be remembered by, reverend and very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXVI.
To Mr. B—— S——.
Glasgow, July 25, 1753.
BOTH your letters came safe to hand, and met with such a reception, as none but those who are knit together in the love of God can either experience, or have any idea of. What you mentioned concerning a certain gentleman, melted me down.—For having met with some unexpected pull-backs, I last night and this morning had been praying, that relief might come from what quarter our Lord thought most proper. How true is the saying of Luther:
Fix on his work thy stedfast eye,
So shall thy work be done.
This, I trust, will teach me more and more to be disinterested in what I do for Christ and souls, and then never fear; even ravens shall be sent to feed and nourish upright Elijahs. But above all, am I humbled and comforted at the good news from Leeds, and York. And will the high and lofty one then continue to delight to honour such a wretch as I am? Then, through the divine strength, let me now begin to preach more than ever. Yesterday I was enabled to preach five times, and I suppose the last time to near twenty thousand, and almost to as many in the morning. People flock and are more fond than ever to hear; at Edinburgh also, I preached twice every day to many thousands; among whom are many of the noble and polite.—Attention sits upon the faces of all, and friends come round me like so many bees, to importune for one week longer stay in Scotland. But I think I am fixed. God willing, on Thursday I return to Edinburgh, and the Tuesday following shall set out for Berwick, &c. Haste, time! Fly, fly on (so that I can but keep pace by filling thee up with duty) and bring me to see the face of God in heaven. I hope to write again soon; then you will know my rout. O that Jesus may direct my goings in his way! He will, he will. He will never leave nor forsake those that put their trust in him; and he knows, that as far as I know my heart, I think his work the very best wages that can be given to,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXVII.
To Mr. G——, at Glasgow.
Newcastle, August 12, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
I WOULD have answered your kind letter before I left Edinburgh, but I had not a moment’s leisure. With great difficulty I got away, after a heart-breaking parting on Tuesday about noon. On Wednesday evening, and the Thursday morning, I preached at Berwick, and on Thursday evening at Alnwick, in the street. It being the time of the races, I discoursed on these words, “So run that ye may obtain.” Whilst I was discoursing, the gentlemen came down from the race, and surrounded the congregation, and heard very attentively. The next morning at five I preached again, and about noon at a place called Placy, and in the evening about nine at Newcastle, where a great number expected me. My text was “At midnight a cry was made, behold the bridegroom cometh.” The next morning I received the following note, “Dearly beloved in the Lord, I write to you good news. Your labour was not in vain last night, for my wife answered to the midnight cry, and received Christ into her soul.” O that we may all praise the Three in One! Last night I prepared for, and this morning I opened the gospel fair from these words, “Ho! every one that thirsteth.” Much of the divine presence was in the congregation, and I believe many tasted of Christ’s wine. I am to preach three times almost every day this week. This promise supports me. “As thy day is, so shall thy strength be.” By the inclosed, you will see the devil owes me a grudge for what was done at Glasgow. Would it not be proper to insert a paragraph to contradict it? Thousands and thousands come to hear notwithstanding. Lord, what am I? A poor hell-deserving creature; and yet the Lord makes use of such to thresh the mountains with. May the Lord help me so to do, and then let him deal with me as seemeth good in his sight. Please to remember us in the kindest manner to dear Mr. M——n, our kind host and hostess, and all friends. I shall not forget you and yours, or your undertaking. The Lord prosper this, and every other work of your hands upon you! My lot is to be a pilgrim, a run-about for Christ. Commend me to Him who gives strength to the weak, and for whose sake I am,
Yours most affectionately,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCLXXXVIII.
To Mr. B—— S——.
Newcastle, August 13, 1753.
My very dear Friend,
MY rout is now fixed. After having preached here and hereabouts three times each day, I am to leave this place on Thursday, to be at Stockton on Sunday, at Osmotherly on Monday noon, lie at Topcliff, and reach York, God willing, by way of Burrough-bridge, on Tuesday next, and then come forwards to Leeds. I trust that our meeting will be like that of Jonathan and David. Only sometimes I must change names; where it is said “David exceeded,” there I will be David, and you Jonathan. Where Jonathan exceeds, there I will be Jonathan and you David. But more of this hereafter.—I must now tell you good news. I could not finish this letter last night, it is now Tuesday morning. But surely heaven came down amongst us, under the last evening preaching: it was almost too much for my body. O that the prison door was set open, and the bird suffered to fly out of the cage! Then would I fly to heaven, and upon one of the boughs of free grace sing the praises of redeeming love for ever and for ever. Till then, may we be employed in singing here on earth! But I must away to Horsey to preach, from whence I am to return to preach again in the evening. Thrice a day tries me, but in the Lord have I righteousness and strength. If you hear of a mob’s being raised by my preaching at Glasgow, assure all your friends that there was none, but Satan owes me a grudge for speaking against the playhouse. Particulars expect when we meet. In the mean while, give my tender love to all, and forget not to pray for, my dear friend.
Yours in our precious Christ,
G. W.
LETTER [♦]DCCCCLXXXIX.
To Lady H——.
Newcastle, August 13, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
NOT want of respect, but leisure, hath prevented my writing to your Ladyship. Since my last, I have been travelling and preaching twice or thrice, and once five times a day. I cannot tell your Ladyship of one thousandth part of what we have seen and felt. In Scotland the congregations were larger than ever. At Glasgow, the man who owned the playhouse was made so uneasy by the word preached, that he took down the roof himself. For this Satan owes me a grudge, and therefore it is put in the paper, that a mob was raised. But there was not the least appearance of any such thing. Our weapons are not carnal, but mighty through God to the pulling down of Satan’s strong-holds. At Newcastle our Lord fills his people with new wine. Last night much of heaven was let down into the congregation. I am now going into the country, and am to return in the evening to preach. Thrice a day is almost too much for this weak tabernacle, but in the Lord have I righteousness and strength. Next week I am to be at York; the word I find fastens. On Sunday I hope to see Mr. H——. Ere long I hope to see our common Lord in glory. O that I may be one day lifted up from the pulpit to the throne. Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit; deal with me as seemeth good in thy sight! I doubt not but he deals bountifully with your Ladyship; that you and yours may greatly increase with all the increase of God, is the earnest prayer of, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most obliged, dutiful and ready servant,
G. W.
[♦] “DCCCCLXXXX” replaced with “DCCCCLXXXIX”
LETTER DCCCCXC.
To Lady F—— S——.
Leeds, August 23, 1753.
Honoured Madam,
HITHERTO the Lord hath helped me. Blessed be his glorious name, the fields have been every where white, ready unto harvest. I have been of late generally enabled to preach thrice a day, and in all appearance the word never was attended with more success. Satan rages and belies me, about the taking down the Glasgow play-houses; but I hope my letter lately published in the Newcastle journal, will set all things right. Thanks be to God, without the assistance of mobs and riots, (which my soul abhors) the christian’s weapons, through divine assistance, are mighty to the pulling down of Satan’s strong-holds. Alas! how many of these hath he gotten in every unregenerate person’s heart! Blessed be his holy name for any begun conquests there; surely his name is wonderful that hath done it. What a miracle of grace is it, honoured Madam, that a spark of fire should be kept in, amidst an ocean of corruption! that the bush should burn, and yet not be consumed! Such a standing miracle I trust your Ladyship will be. To be a martyr, a living witness for Jesus, amidst the tip-top allurements of high life—by this we prove the strength of Jesus to be ours indeed. May the Lord of all Lords help you, honoured Madam, to hold on and hold out. My prayer to him for you is, “That your progress may be made known to all men, and that you may increase with all the increase of God.” Glory be to free grace, I find the happiness of the divine life an increasing happiness indeed.—Lately our common Lord hath taken his people into the banqueting house, and caused their cup of consolation to run over. Surely we have been in the suburbs of heaven: ere long we shall enter into the city itself. Our Lord is gone before to prepare the way. To the tender and never-failing mercy of this gracious forerunner, do I humbly and heartily recommend your Ladyship, as being, honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCI.
To Lady H——n.
York, September 11, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
LAST Saturday I returned to Leeds, from whence I had been absent a fortnight. But what the glorious Emmanuel gave us to see and feel, is indeed inexpressible. What a sacrament at Howarth! We used thirty-five bottles of wine on the occasion. I have been as far as Bolton, Manchester, and Stockport. At the last place so much of the divine presence came amongst us, that it was almost too much for our frail natures to bear; at the former, our cup was also made to run over. Every where the congregation looked like swarms of bees, and the more I preached the more eager they seemed to be. At [♦]Burstall last Lord’s day, perhaps there were near twenty thousand, and on Monday morning at Leeds, the parting was the most affecting I ever saw: it has been almost too much for me. I have not as yet half recovered it. Lord, hasten the time when thy people shall part no more! Last night I came hither, and preached with quietness. This morning I am setting out for Lincolnshire, and have some thoughts of taking a trip to Ireland. Lord Jesus, what am I that I should be called to go out into the high-ways and hedges? Besides travelling, I have been enabled to preach thrice a day frequently. Arrows of conviction have fled, and of souls I hear scores have been awakened; they tell me that a hundred have been added to Sunderland society. O that the leaven may ferment till the whole be leavened! Never did I see the work more promising. God be merciful to me a sinner, and give me, for his infinite mercy’s sake, an humble thankful and resigned heart! Surely I am viler than the vilest, and stand amazed at his employing such a wretch as I am; but his name is Love. I could enlarge, but must away to preach. Ever-honoured Madam, let me intreat the continuance of your prayers, and thereby increase the innumerable obligations already conferred on the unworthiest of the sons of men, but, for Christ’s sake, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged and ready servant,
G. W.
[♦] “Bustall” replaced with “Burstall”
LETTER DCCCCXCII.
To Lady H——.
London, September 26, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
YESTERDAY about noon, a good and never-failing Redeemer brought me and mine in safety to town, where I expect to stay only a few days. Thanks be to God for this last circuit! I think this day three months I left London; since which time I have been enabled to travel about twelve hundred miles, and to preach about one hundred and eighty sermons to many, very many thousands of souls. More glorious seasons I never saw; parting has almost killed me. My last excursion hath been to York, Lincolnshire, Rotheram, Sheffield, Nottingham, Northampton, where I believe near ten thousand souls came to hear last Lord’s day. It was a Lord’s day indeed. Praise the Lord O my soul! I hope your Ladyship received Governor B——’s letter. I hear that your Ladyship hath honoured me with one, but find it is gone to Nottingham; I expect it to-morrow; but though somewhat fatigued, could not omit thanking your Ladyship to-night for this and all other favours. Innumerable are my obligations.—But the all-gracious and all-glorious Jesus must discharge them for me. My poor prayers, is the only pepper-corn I have got to offer by way of acknowledgment. O that I could do something to express my gratitude! By the help of my God, I will now begin to begin to love him. I am sure it is high time.—And in doing so, and studying to promote by my feeble letters his glory and the good of souls, I shall make the best return your Ladyship desires. I have some thoughts of seeing Ireland; the Lord direct my goings in his way! I must now wish your Ladyship a good night. My wife joins in sending most dutiful respects, with, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCIII.
To Mr. D——.
Northampton, October 7, 1753.
WHAT! have the birds of prey been pursuing, pecking at, and wounding one of Christ’s doves? Come, my dear man, play the man, be strong in the grace which is in Christ Jesus, and be not like a silly dove that hath no heart. Look to him, and you shall be saved;
He will give strength, he will give power,
He will in time set free.
These enemies which so perplex us, ere long, blessed be God, we shall see no more. Pharaoh and his host shall be drowned in the sea.
Through Christ we shall
Break through them all,
And sing the song of Moses.
Courage then, my dear Mr. D——; Christ’s blood shall yet purge out all remaining gall. Alas! alas! how little do we know of our hearts? What feathers are we, when tossed in the wind of temptations? What greater and greater abominations shall we find, when the spirit leads us more and more into the chambers of imagery that are within us! We shall find, that, comparatively speaking, we know nothing as we ought to know. O my ignorance! my ignorance! My leanness, my leanness! Pray for me, dear Mr. D——, and salute all dear friends in my name. I will write as soon as I can. My stay in London was but short, yet I trust profitable and sweet to many. The new tabernacle was filled with God’s glory under the word preached, on the letter day, and at sacrament. I am now bound for Staffordshire; follow me with your prayers, and believe me to be
Your affectionate sympathizing friend, in our dear Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCIV.
To Mr. S——.
Northampton, October 10, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
IT is now near eleven at night, and I am to ride beyond Coventry to-morrow: but I cannot close my eyes without sending you a short account of my week’s work. On Saturday last, I preached at Oulney, and had a blessed season. On the Lord’s day we had two glorious opportunities in this place, where the congregations were much larger than before. On Monday I went to Oxen near Harborough; it was their feast-day, but if I mistake not, some of their feasting was spoiled. In the evening I preached at Bosworth; the congregation was large as well as that at Oxen, and the power as great. About nine at night I got to Kettering, where I preached the next morning to many souls; the Redeemer gave us a spiritual breakfast. About five in the evening I reached Bedford, and preached in the Green last night, and this morning. This afternoon we had another blessed season at Oulney, and this evening I sojourn here, in order to set out for Birmingham to-morrow. A new scene of usefulness hath opened this week. O that nothing may retard me in my pilgrim life! It is worse than death to me, to be stopt in that. You, my dear Sir, are called to trade, I to travel for my God. Whilst trading, you are in effect travelling and preaching to thousands; for you greatly strengthen my hands in the Lord. Great shall be your reward in heaven. O what a bountiful master do we serve! I am loath to go to sleep, and yet this vile body stands in need of it. My dear, very dear Sir, good night. God bless you and yours. I pray for your dear yoke-fellow, and little maid, incessantly. As you learnt long ago to look through and above unworthiness, I must still beg you to increase my obligations, by following with your prayers.
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCV.
To Dear A——.
Birmingham, October 13, 1753.
“HAVING loved his own, he loved them unto the end,” says the beloved disciple, concerning Jesus Christ. I would copy after this great exemplar, and have my love like his, steady and disinterested. Thus you have found, and I trust always will find my love to you. Works speak better than words. I am reposing the utmost confidence in you and yours. You are going to assist in a house, built in answer to millions of prayers, and which I doubt not, will prove a blessing to many that are now unborn. Look upon it in this light; think of the honour God is conferring upon you; then you will launch into the deep with a holy confidence, and when arrived at your wished for port, will behave with humility, disinterestedness, integrity and diligence. You need not ask any prayers, they will follow after you, though you should even fly upon the wings of the wind. I have pawned my word for your good behaviour in every respect, and hope to have my most sanguine expectations answered. Get but humility, and all will be well. I am satisfied about your passage and your room. You will remember, that God is about your bed, as well as your other paths, and take care to behave accordingly. To be a christian husband is no small matter. How much fresh grace is now necessary for your new state of life! Your sufficiency lives only in Christ. To his never-failing mercy do I commend you, and, for his great name’s sake, subscribe myself, dear A——,
Your affectionate and ready friend,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCVI.
To Mr. S——.
Nantwich, October 18, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
I am now at an Inn, but cannot go farther, without giving you an account of my last week’s circuit. Since my last, I have been at Birmingham, and several adjacent places. Still fresh work hath been done, and souls fled to the gospel like doves to the windows. At a place near Dudley, called Guarnall, I heard of a whole company awakened by reading my poor sermons. I met with others awakened years ago; and at one place, an old saint said, “this is the old story fifty-five years ago.” Another near as old, said, “I was comforted when you came last, now God hath sent you to me again, and I can go more chearful to heaven.” I have heard of a great reprobate, a notorious persecutor and drunkard, who hath been struck most powerfully. O my dear Sir; what shall you have for helping me in outward things, assisting me by your prayers, and thereby causing me to press forward more chearfully in this delightful work of publishing the everlasting gospel! I am now going to a neighbouring village, after that to Chester, and from thence, purpose to return through Staffordshire. God willing, you shall hear how it goes on, when I come to cross-plough the ground again. In the mean while, be pleased to accept this as a token of my love, gratitude, and respect unfeigned, and after giving my most hearty love to dear Mrs. S—— and your dear little daughter, I subscribe myself, very dear Sir,
Your most unworthy, though most obliged friend, and ready servant in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCVII.
To Mr. S——.
Wolverhampton, October 27, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
MY last, I think was from Nantwich. Since that, the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus, hath vouchsafed to employ me in breaking up new ground. I have preached four times at Alperam in Cheshire, where the Lord was with us of a truth, and where he had sweetly prepared my way, by blessing several of my poor writings. At Chester I preached four times; a great concourse attended; all was hushed and quiet, several of the clergy were present, and the word came with power. I have since heard, that the most noted rebel in town, was brought under deep conviction, and could not sleep night or day. Within doors, where I preached early in the morning, conviction seemed to go through the whole congregation. At Liverpool, the way was equally prepared.—A person who had been wrought on by some of my printed sermons, met me at landing, and took me to his house; a great number at a short notice was convened; all was quiet here also. Some came under immediate conviction; and I could wish to have stayed much longer, but notice was given for my preaching at Wrexham, which I find since, hath been a rude place indeed. Upon my coming, the town was alarmed, and several thousands came to hear. Several of the baser sort made a great noise, and threw stones, but none touched me, and I trust I can say, our Lord got himself the victory. The next day, near Alperam, we had another heaven upon earth. A divine power descended among the people, and we could say, how awfully sweet is this place! The next morning I intended to preach near Nantwich, where a Methodist meeting-house hath lately been pulled down. Here Satan roared.—The mob pelted Mr. D—— and others much, but I got off pretty free, and had opportunity of preaching quietly a little out of town. Last night I preached here in the dark, to a great body of hearers, for this country, and am now bound for Wednesbury, Dudley and Kidderminster. From thence, perhaps I may come to London for a few days. But this as yet is not determined. You will either see or hear again from me soon. In the mean while, I commend myself to the continual remembrance of your whole self, and with ten thousand thanks for all favours, beg leave to subscribe myself, my very dear Sir,
Yours, &c. in our blessed Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCVIII.
To Mr. E——.
London, November 8, 1753.
Dear Mr. E——,
MAN appoints, but it is God’s prerogative to disappoint, when disappointments are necessary for our good. But how hard is it to believe this? How apt are we in our haste to say, all these things are against us! But what says Doctor Watts?
Where reason fails with all her pow’rs,
There faith prevails and love adores.——
Come then, my dear Sir, and chearfully give up your Isaac for God. He will be better to you than a thousand creatures.
Leave to his sovereign sway,
To choose and to command;
So shalt thou wond’ring own his way:
How wise! how strong his hand!
Far above thy thoughts,
His counsel shall appear,
When fully he the work hath wrought,
That caus’d thy needless fear.
Ere now, I trust, the storm is blown over, and that the Redeemer hath made you happy in himself. His love is unchangeable; this rock of ages can never fail you. Build upon him, and you are quite safe. I could enlarge, but time fails. Be pleased to remember us to all, and believe me to be, dear Sir,
Your affectionate brother and servant in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER DCCCCXCIX.
To Mr. P——.
Gloucester, November 16, 1753.
My dear P——,
I THANK you for your kind letter; it found me just returned from another tour in the north, which, like the former, I trust hath been owned and blessed to many precious and immortal souls. At Liverpool, Chester, Dudley, Wednesbury, Birmingham, Coventry, Northampton, and various other places, the gospel report was believed, and the arm of the Lord was revealed. At Nantwich and Wrexham, I met with a little rough treatment; but what have pilgrims to expect better, in their journeying through the wide howling wilderness of this noisy and troublesome world? At London, we had blessed seasons; and here, in my native country, the Lord of all Lords hath repeatedly made us cry out, “how dreadful is this place!” After Lord’s day, I am bound for Bristol and Plymouth, and hope to get into my winter quarters some time before Christmas. Glad should I be to travel for Jesus all the year round. It is more to me than my necessary food. Thank you, thank you my dear singing friends, for praying for me. I am persuaded, you help to hold up my weak hands. O continue to pray, that I may at length begin to be a pilgrim indeed. No other honour do I desire, whilst on this side eternity. I hope to send you some new tunes ere long. And what is better, infinitely better, I hope to join with you in singing the song of Moses and the Lamb ere long in the kingdom of heaven. Till then, though as yet we are embodied spirits,
We’ll strive to sing as loud as they,
Who shine above in brighter day.
Grace, mercy and peace be multiplied upon you all. But a word or two concerning Jenks on the righteousness of Christ. It is a precious book, and I think your extracting Mr. Hervey’s recommendation, and putting it by way of preface, to a new edition, will be sufficient. This I know is all he would consent to have done some time ago, when applied to by a London bookseller. God prosper this work of your hands upon you. Pray remember me to all my never to be forgotten friends, and assure them, that not want of love but leisure prevents their hearing more frequently from, my dear Sir,
Theirs and yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER M.
To Mr. G——.
Gloucester, November 16, 1753.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
YOUR kind letter I received, and would have answered it during my stay in London (which was only a few days) but really I was almost killed with a multiplicity of business. The journals also I would have sent immediately, but knew not how.—My wife promised me to embrace the first opportunity that offered, and I hope ere long they will come safe to hand. As for my pointing out particular passages, it is impracticable; I have neither leisure nor inclination so to do. At present, my doings and writings appear to me in so mean a light, that I think they deserve no other treatment than to be buried in eternal oblivion. “Behold, I am vile, I am vile,” is all that I can say to God or man. And yet, amazing love! vile as I am, the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, still delights to honour me, by owning and succeeding my poor feeble labours. Great things were done in and about Newcastle; but far greater did we see afterwards in Yorkshire, Lancashire, &c. Since that, I have been another tour, and have preached at Liverpool, Chester, Coventry, Birmingham, Dudley, Wednesbury, Kidderminster, Northampton, Bedford, &c. &c. Ere now I suppose Mr. B—— P—— hath informed you, what apostolical treatment we met with at Nantwich. Lord, what am I, that I should be accounted worthy to suffer reproach for thy great name sake? At present I am in my native country, where the Lord of all Lords hath vouchsafed to give us several precious meetings. After a few days sojourning here, I am bound for Bristol and Plymouth, and in about three weeks, I purpose to betake myself to my winter quarters. Blessed be God, I have had good news from Georgia. O that we all may at length safely arrive in Abraham’s harbour! From thence we shall never put to sea again. My dear Sir, in the mean while, let us pray for each other. Christ is in our ship, and therefore it will not sink. I commend you and yours, and all my other never to be forgotten Glasgow friends, to his never-failing protection, and beg them, for Christ’s sake, to always remember to pray for, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MI.
To Mr. S——.
Gloucester, November 17, 1753.
My very dear Sir,
IT is now just a week since I left London. I must not, I cannot go any further without writing to him, who doth so much to strengthen my hands in the Lord. And what shall I say? Truly the glorious Emmanuel still continues to smile upon my feeble labours. Although I am in my native country, yet he hath not left himself without witness. Last Lord’s day was a high day, and since that, we have had some more beautiful seasons in the country. I write this from a nineteen years friend’s house, an Alderman of the city, who with his wife, are my spiritual children. Lord, what am I? To-morrow I am to move, and expect, besides riding, to preach thrice for some days.
Christ’s presence will my pains beguile,
And make me, though fatigu’d, to smile.
After visiting Bristol and Plymouth, I purpose hastening to my winter quarters. Winter quarters!—The word winter almost shocks me. Alas, winter come already, and I, ungrateful, ill and hell-deserving I, have done so little for my God in the summer? How can I lift up my guilty head? I blush and am confounded before thee, O Lord. Behold, I am vile; O dig and dung round me, that I may bring forth more fruit to thee my God! Still, my dear Sir, I must beg your prayers, and those of your dear yoke-fellow, whom I love and honour, and whom (with your dear little daughter) I salute much in the Lord. A sense of my own unfruitfulness, and of God’s amazing condescension in employing such a wretch, at present so over-powers me, that I am obliged to retire, to give vent to my heart, after having subscribed myself, my very dear Sir,
Yours under innumerable obligations, in the best of bonds,
G. W.
LETTER MII.
To Mr. A——.
Bristol, November 21, 1753.
My very dear friend,
I HOPED a few days ago to send you glad tidings, and blessed be God, I am not disappointed. Never had I before such freedom in Gloucestershire. It was so pleasant, that I intend taking it again in my way to London. Sunday was indeed an high day. I preached and gave the sacrament at the new-house in the morning, and preached again at Mr. G——’s and Mr. F——’s in the field, at noon and in the evening. Showers of blessings descended from above. Mr. L—— supped with me; our Lord gave us richly to feast upon his great love. At Painswick we had two pleasant seasons, and the same favour was vouchsafed us at Chafford and Tedbury. At Gloucester also a time of refreshing came from the presence of the Lord, and the dear Alderman’s house was made a Bethel to my soul. God brought me here on Monday evening, and to my great disappointment the new tabernacle is not finished, so that I know not well what to do. However, we had a good time last night at the hall, and I hope all this is but the beginning of a warm winter. I am glad that the Lord Jesus deals so bountifully with you at London. May he do so more and more! I believe he will. Your motion to go to Norwich I much approve of. Whatever others design, that is nothing to us. Simplicity and godly sincerity will carry all before it in the end. O that the sons of Zeruiah could be persuaded to let us alone! But how then should we be able to approve ourselves sons of David? By thorns and briars, the old man must be scratched to death.—O this crucifixion work! Lord Jesus help us to go through it! He will, he will. I commend thee and thine to his almighty protection and never-failing mercy, as being, my very dear man,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MIII.
Stroude, November 27, 1753.
Dear Mrs. C——,
YOUR letter came to my hands at Wrexham, but being upon the road I could not answer it. What said God to Abraham, “Fear not; I will be thy shield and thy exceeding great reward.” Now is your time to approve yourself his daughter.—My heart’s desire and prayer to the Lord of all Lords is, that you may be strong in faith, and thereby give glory to God.—I am much obliged to those who dissuade you from going.—I find most love to be friends till they begin to have their Isaacs demanded.—Let them have but a little patience: perhaps I may embark myself.—If they do not think it a privilege to go for Christ over the waters, I do.—This, even this is the language of my heart,
Lord, obediently I’ll go,
Gladly leaving all below;
Only Thou my leader be,
And I still will follow Thee.
O for a pilgrim heart! This I believe God hath given you, and I do not fear repenting the confidence I have reposed in you.—That the Lord may make you a mother in Israel, and bless you in taking care of his dear lambs, is the hearty prayer of, dear Mrs. C——,
Your most assured friend and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
P. S. We have had blessed seasons in the country: the Lord has been with us of a truth. Grace! grace!
LETTER MIV.
To Mr. S——.
Bristol, December 1, 1753.
My very dear friend,
THIS hath been a long fortnight, for so long it is since I wrote to my very dear friend; but I waited to send him a bundle of good news together. Blessed be God, I am not disappointed of my hope. Since my last, I have preached several times in Gloucestershire, where the people, as well as the unworthy preacher, drank plentifully of the good wine of the kingdom. In the fields several thousands attended. Here we have also enjoyed much of God; twice I preached in my brother’s great house to the quality, amongst whom was one of Cæsar’s houshold. On Sunday I opened the new Tabernacle. It is large, but not half large enough: would the place contain them, I believe near as many would attend as in London. Last Monday I set out for Somersetshire, intending to have gone as far as Plymouth, but the weather was so violent, and my call to London likely to be so speedy, that I turned back. However, I preached in Somersetshire four or five times. Some told me, they were scarce able to stand under what God gave them. On Tuesday, at seven in the evening, I preached in the open air to a great multitude; all was hush’d and exceeding solemn; the stars shone exceeding bright, and then, if ever, by an eye of faith, I saw him who calleth them all by their names. My soul was filled with an holy ambition, and I longed to be one of those who shall shine as the stars for ever and ever. My hands and body at this, and at other times were pierced with cold; but what are outward things when the soul within is warmed with the love of God? O my very dear Sir, increase my obligations by continuing to pray, that this unspeakable gift may be shed abroad abundantly in my heart by the Holy Ghost. Then shall I not grovel as I do now here below, but mount on wings like an eagle; I shall walk and not be weary, I shall hold on and not be faint. O that I may die in the field! But die when or where I will, I shall die under the strongest obligations to you and your dear yoke-fellow, who will both know, at the day of judgment, how sincerely I subscribe myself, very dear Sir,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MV.
To Mr. S——.
Bristol, December 3, 1753.
WHEN I saw the seal of your last sweet letter, I guessed at the contents of it. Blessed be God, I was not disappointed. The heart was soaring aloft, mounting on the wings of faith and love, and had fled out of sight of this poor and troublesome world. Thus may that God, who is rich in mercy, pay and reward all that love ill and hell-deserving me! The devil himself dares [♦]not accuse us, for serving and loving God or man, for these wages. They are wages of God’s appointing, God’s promising, God’s paying. May my dear friend always find such payment! I believe he will.
O Lord, enlarge our scanty thoughts,
To see the wonders thou hast wrought;
Unloose our stammering tongues to tell,
Thy love immense, unspeakable.
I rejoice in the promising prospect of the happiness of your brother’s houshold. May it widen and spread over all! If I have any time, I hope to send him a few lines. Lord, hasten the time when my poor kinsmen and brethren after the flesh shall be joined to thee by one spirit! Till then, help me, O Lord, to be continually crying out, “Why me, Lord, why me?” Well may distinguishing grace, and the thoughts of everlasting love, swallow up your whole soul. Strange! that God’s children should not know their own bread. But these corrupt hearts of ours still verge towards the law. Grace, omnipotent grace alone, can enable us to see our compleatness in Christ, and yet excite us, from principles of gratitude and love, to faithfulness and zeal, as though we were to be saved entirely by them. Glorious mystery! Like the blessed angels, may you and yours, my dear friend, be continually employed in looking into it! This is what I have been preaching on last week in Somersetshire. The fire there warmed and enflamed me, though I preached in the air on Tuesday evening at seven o’clock, as well as on Wednesday and Thursday. I purposed to go as far as Plymouth, but providence hath brought me back, and I am now hastening to London, to pay my last respects to my dying friend. It may be, that shortly Mr. J—— W—— will be no more; the physicians think his disease is a galloping consumption. I pity the church, I pity myself, but not him. We must stay behind in this cold climate, whilst he takes his flight to a radiant throne, prepared for him from the foundations of the world. Lord, if it be thy blessed will, let not thy chariot wheels be long in coming. Even so come Lord Jesus, come quickly! Poor Mr. C—— will now have double work. But we can do all things through Christ strengthening us. The residue of the Spirit is in the Redeemer’s hands, and he hath promised not to leave his people comfortless. Our eyes, O Lord, are unto thee from whom cometh all our salvation. Here I could enlarge, but I must send a few lines to London, which I hope to reach myself some time this week. Be pleased to direct your next there. My Leeds friends have my cordial acknowledgements for their kind enquiries concerning me. I hope this will find them all, with your dear yoke-fellow, leaning on the Mediator’s bosom. There am I now reclining my weary head. Adieu. The Lord Jesus be with your spirit.
Yours, &c.
G. W.
[♦] “nor” replaced with “not”
LETTER MVI.
To Mr. C—— W——.
Bristol, December 3, 1753.
BEING unexpectedly brought back from Somersetshire, and hearing you are gone upon such a mournful errand, I cannot help sending after you a few sympathizing lines. The Lord help and support you! May a double spirit of the ascending Elijah, descend and rest on the surviving Elisha! Now is the time to prove the strength of Jesus yours. A wife, a friend, and brother, ill together. Well! this is our comfort, all things shall work together for good to those that love God. If you think proper, be pleased to deliver the inclosed. It was written out of the fulness of my heart. To-morrow I leave Bristol, and purpose reaching London by Saturday morning or night. Glad should I be to reach heaven first; but faith and patience hold out a little longer. Yet a little while, and we shall be all together with our common Lord. I commend you to his everlasting love, and am, my dear friend, with much sympathy,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MVII.
To the Reverend Mr. J—— W——.
Bristol, December 3, 1753.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
IF seeing you so weak when leaving London, distressed me, the news and prospect of your approaching dissolution hath quite weighed me down. I pity myself, and the church, but not you. A radiant throne awaits you, and ere long you will enter into your Master’s joy. Yonder he stands with a massy crown, ready to put it on your head amidst an admiring throng of saints and angels. But I, poor I, that have been waiting for my dissolution these nineteen years, must be left behind to grovel here below! Well, this is my comfort, it cannot be long ere the chariots will be sent even for worthless me. If prayers can detain them, even you, reverend and very dear Sir, shall not leave us yet: but if the decree is gone forth, that you must now fall asleep in Jesus, may he kiss your soul away, and give you to die in the embraces of triumphant love. If in the land of the living, I hope to pay my last respects to you next week. If not, reverend and dear Sir, farewel.—I præ, sequar, etsi non passibus æquis. My heart is too big, tears trickle down too fast, and I fear you are too weak for me to enlarge. May underneath you be Christ’s everlasting arms! I commend you to his never-failing mercy, and am, very dear Sir,
Your most affectionate, sympathizing, and afflicted younger brother in the gospel of our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MVIII.
To Mr. C—— W——.
London, December 13, 1753.
My dear Friend,
THE searcher of hearts alone knows the sympathy I have felt for you and yours, and what suspence my mind hath been in concerning the event of your present circumstances. I pray and enquire, enquire and pray again, always expecting to hear the worst. Ere this can reach you, I expect the lot will be cast either for life or death. I long to hear, that I may partake like a friend either of your joy and sorrow. Blessed be God for that promise, whereby we are assured, that “all things shall work together for good to those that love him.” This may make us at least resigned, when called to part with our Isaacs. But who knows the pain of parting, when the wife and the friend are conjoined? To have the desire of one’s eyes cut off with a stroke, what but grace, omnipotent grace, can enable us to bear it? But who knows, perhaps the threatened stroke may be recalled. Surely the Lord of all lords is preparing you for further usefulness by these complex trials. We must be purged, if we would bring forth more fruit. Your brother I hear is better; to-day I intended to have seen him, but Mr. B—— sent me word he thought he would be out for the air. I hope Mr. H—— is better; but I can scarce mention any body now but dear Mrs. W——. Pray let me know how it goes with you. My wife truly joins in sympathy and love. Night and day indeed you are remembered by, my dear friend,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MIX.
To Mr. S——.
London, December 13, 1753.
My dear Friend,
THE mail not coming in till to-day, I began to fear lest something had happened to prevent your writing. But, blessed be God, my fears are dispelled, my friend is well, his temporals, his spirituals prosper: herein I rejoice, yea and will rejoice. But what news do you tell me? Hath an infinitely condescending God vouchsafed to breathe on my poor worthless scribble? Hath life and power attended inanimate ink and paper? This then, my God, shall be the language of my heart!
Forgive my faults, and work thy will
By such a worthless instrument;
It will at once thy goodness shew,
And prove thy power omnipotent.
Whatever some may boast of, I know not; but this I can say, that although, through rich, free, and sovereign grace, I have been enabled these nineteen years to say unto God, “Thou art my father,” yet I can still say to corruption, “Thou art my sister.” Time and experience will convince others also of this important truth. God keep me, and all concerned with me, from such manifestations, as do not lead us more and more into the chambers of imagery, which are latent and undiscovered in the secret corners of our hearts! Such only come from God: illuminations which engender pride, and lead us from a deep and pungent feeling of our own nothingness, and the remainders of in-dwelling corruption, are either of a diabolical extraction, or at least are perverted by the devil and proud nature, to feed that disease, which when operating in a genuine way, they have a native tendency to remove. Well might Mr. Fleming say, “Lord, grant me a divine manifestation, but O teach me to manage it after thou hast granted it.” Paul needed a thorn to teach him how to manage such favours aright. I tremble for those who hug their delusions, and look upon the dunghill of corruption as quite removed, when it is only covered over as it were with a little snow. How white did the most foul places look only a few days ago! But the thaw is come, the whiteness is vanished, and filthy dunghills are dunghills still. My dear friend knows how to make the application. Blessed be God for leading you into the knowledge of the mystery of gospel holiness.—Holiness, not built on Moses, or the sandy bottom of our own faithfulness, but on Jesus, that rock of ages, whose faithfulness makes us faithful, and a reliance on whole compleat and all-sufficient righteousness, doings, and sufferings, carries the believer on (without thinking of a reward) to do and suffer, what a legal heart will shrink and boggle at. May this mind be in you and me, and all that love our dear Lord Jesus in sincerity! When the Son of Man makes them thus free, then will they be free indeed. You may easily see, that part of your letter hath led me insensibly into this strain of writing. If it pleases or profits, or both, it will answer the end designed, and the dear, ever-dear, ever-loving, and ever-lovely Redeemer shall have all the glory. As our acquaintance was begun in him, and I trust hath hitherto been blessed, so I would have it continue to run in the same channel, and, whether absent from or present with each other, sweetly lead us to our ocean, God. I am only sorry you have such an unprofitable correspondent. Tears are ready to gush out at the thought, and I am ready to sink into the earth, when I consider how little I can do for that Jesus, whom I love for himself, or for my friends, whom I love for his great name’s sake. Friend of sinners, circle me in thy own compleat and all-sufficient Self! Good night, my dear Sir, good night. If you guess at my present frame, you will know at whose cross this leaves me, and how much I am
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MX.
To Mr. V——.
London, December 15, 1753.
My very dear Mr. V——,
JUST now I received, and have read over your kind letter, dated August 22d, and in reading it, could have wished for the wings of a dove, that I might have fled and embraced you in these unworthy arms, and wished you joy of being assured of his love, who so loved us as to give himself for us. May this find you in the same happy frame, and may you for ever hereafter be blessed with the uninterrupted witness of God’s Spirit, witnessing with your spirit, that you are indeed his child! As you have undergone a long and tedious law work, I hope your joys are of the right kind, and will be more substantial and lasting, than those who leap into a fancied liberty at once, and having no root in themselves, in time of temptation fall away. Your house, my dear friend, I believe, is not built upon the sand, but upon Jesus, even Jesus of Nazareth, the rock of ages; against which the gates of hell shall never be able to prevail. Whoever hath been the instrument of bringing you into this happy frame, it is no matter to me; I rejoice, yea and will rejoice. If I know any thing of my heart, I am just the same disinterested person as when I saw you, and believe me, you are my dear, very dear Gaius, my son, my friend still. Mr. S—— can tell you, why you received no letters. They are ready, and were sent to his lodgings:—but to my great surprize I was told, a coach came for him and the other passengers. Ever since I have been preaching and travelling as usual, generally twice, and frequently thrice a day. I came only last Saturday into Winter quarters, and shall long for the Spring again, that I may enter upon a fresh campaign. O that my dear Lord may never discard me from this divine employ! An itinerant pilgrim life is that which I choose.—And why? It was the life of my blessed Lord. I hope you will not fail of calling out dear Mr. Z——y to it every year.—I am sure America, dear America stands much in need of it. Let envious, lukewarm elder brethren say what they please against it, this is the way that God hath honoured, yea and I believe will honour even unto the end. But I find, love of honour, power, ease, and fulness of bread, make even good people to think, and speak, and act unlike themselves. These, these are the things which have led the Moravian brethren on this side the water, from the cross of Christ, and made them to differ as much from what once they were, as light from darkness. O how have my dear spiritual children, (for whom I travailed in birth, and whom I love as my own soul) been insensibly led away, and robbed of their spiritual and temporal substance, at least for a while, by some self-designing and deceitful men. Against these, and not the dear people, who have been eaten up as bread, with a bleeding heart, have I drawn my pen; and I believe shall rejoice that I have done so to my dying day. God grant that the like scene may never be opened on your side the water! But I forbear.—O for heaven! O for that time when we shall get out of this church militant! I long to be
Where sin and strife and sorrow cease,
And all is joy and calm and peace.
Dear Mr. J—— W—— is going thither apace: he is supposed to be in a galloping consumption. Lord Jesus, give me patience to wait till my wished-for change also shall come! I long to awake after thy likeness; I long to be dissolved to be with thee! Then, then shall I meet you, my dear friend, and rejoice, together with all the blessed train that shall follow the Lamb! O my dear Sir, bear with me, bear with me, I pray you, for indeed I am sick of love. Surely of all the redeemed, I, even ill and hell-deserving I, shall sing loudest in heaven. Behold I am vile! black, but yet comely: not in myself, but in the comeliness which my dear Jesus hath put upon me. I can now no more. I must retire to pray for you and yours. The Lord bless you, and keep you, and give you a heart continually to remember before his throne, my dear Mr. V——,
Your most affectionate friend, brother, and servant in Christ,
G. W.
LETTER MXI.
To Lady H——n.
London, December 15, 1753.
Ever-honoured Madam,
THE mail not coming in regularly, your Ladyship’s letter did not reach me till Thursday afternoon. Yesterday morning I obeyed your Ladyship’s commands, and carried the inclosed to Mrs. G——, at St. James’s palace. I was much satisfied with my visit, and am much rejoiced to find, that she seems resolved to show out at once. The court, I believe, rings of her, and if she stands, I trust she will make a glorious martyr for her blessed Lord. O that your Ladyship could see your way clear to come up! Now seems to be the time for a fresh stir. Few have either courage or conduct to head a christian party amongst persons of high life. That honour seems to be put upon your Ladyship:—and a glorious honour indeed it is. Till Mrs. G—— can meet with company that is really in earnest, I think the closer she keeps to her God and her book, the better. The Lord strengthen, stablish, and settle her in his ways and will! I am yet kept in suspence about Mrs. W——y; and have been much concerned, lest by intense sympathy, your Ladyship should contract an illness yourself. But your Ladyship hath long since learnt, that as your day is, so shall your strength be. I pray the Lord of all lords to lengthen out your important life, and make your Ladyship ten thousand times more useful than ever, long after my worthless head is laid in the silent grave. If I should live to see my dear brother truly converted unto God, O how would it delight me! The distant prospect is so pleasing, that I could scarce contain myself at the news of it. I hope to hear from him soon, having written to him lately. On Tuesday I am to dine with Mr. J—— W——, who was yesterday for a few minutes at the Foundery: but I hear his lungs are touched. I cannot wish him to survive his usefulness. It is poor living to be nursed. But our Lord knows what is best for his children. I wish I might have the use of Weststreet chapel once or twice a week; many want to hear at that end of the town: the Messrs. W——y’s are quite welcome to all the help I can give them. I have no desire but to promote the common salvation among all.
From self and party spirit free,
Simply, O Lord, I’d follow thee.
Your Ladyship will still add to my innumerable obligations, by praying that such a mind may be given to, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXII.
To Mrs. G——.
Tabernacle-House, December 17, 1753.
Dear Madam,
I WAS so well satisfied with the frame I found you in yesterday, that I could not refrain sending you a few lines to-day. O that you may have grace given you, to stand the first attacks that you must necessarily meet with from every quarter! Blessed be God, that you are determined to shew out at once, and to let all know, that you are determined not so much as to attempt to compromise matters between Christ and the world. One might as well attempt to reconcile light and darkness, heaven and hell. Happy they who set out on a disinterested bottom; it is the foundation which our great High-priest hath laid, and is a rock that will never fail. Never fear, Madam, though storms and billows, afflictions and temptations abide you; he that enabled the three children to pass unhurt through the fiery furnace, and kept his beloved Daniel from being devoured in a den of lions, can and will preserve you unspotted and undefiled, though surrounded on every side. My poor worthless prayers shall not be wanting for you night and day. Look up, dear Madam, determine to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified, and he will make your very enemies to be at peace with you. But faith must be tried, and grace, when given, must be kept in exercise. Welcome, welcome dear Madam, into the glorious kingdom of the children of God. O that all of Cæsar’s houshold were in the same situation! How would they exult in the happy change! A change from darkness to light, from bondage and misery to the most consummate liberty and happiness. For those whom the Son of man makes free, they are free indeed. Now, now may you sing,
Be gone, vain world, my heart resign,
For I must be no longer thine;
A nobler, a diviner guest,
Now claims possession of my breast.
I could enlarge, but am afraid of being too bold. The freedom already taken, proceeds from unfeigned regard to our common Lord, to good Lady H——, and to yourself, for his great name sake. I just now informed her Ladyship of the honour done me yesterday, and of the providential call she seems to have to town. Her Ladyship is a mother in Israel indeed, a mirror of piety, detached from worldly hopes and worldly fears, and therefore no wonder that she so simply copies after her great Exemplar, and glories only in his blessed cross. Till you can find some like-minded, I believe you will find your God and your book the best company.—That you may be never less alone, than when you are alone, and that you may be continually directed so to speak and act, that you may win many souls among the rich and great to the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus, is and shall be the earnest constant prayer of, dear Madam,
Your most obliged and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXIII.
To Mr. B——.
London, December 17, 1753.
Dear Mr. B——,
I AM sorry to find by your last, which came to hand on Saturday, that the tumults in your parts still continue at such an height. I heartily wish, that the kind and generous Justice who hath so laudably exerted himself, may have courage to proceed in a due execution of the laws, and I doubt not but the issue will be, that you will have peace. In the mean while, may the Redeemer enable you and all concerned to possess their souls in patience! I think the storm is too violent to hold long. The death of dear Mr. J—— W——, if that should be the issue of his present illness, I think is of a far more threatening nature. At present, I hear he is somewhat better, but if his distemper be a galloping consumption (as they say it is) there are but little hopes of his surviving long. But all things are possible with God. O that my tardy pace may be quickened, and my sluggish soul begin to be alive to God! He hath dealt bountifully with me since we parted. In various places the word ran and was glorified, and we had a lovely shutting-up of the Summer’s campaign in Gloucestershire.—I am now in my Winter quarters, moaning and bewailing myself, for not having done more when the days were longer. O for Spring, that I may spring afresh for my Lord! You and all must pray for me. I send you and yours, Mr. C—— and his son, and all enquiring friends (not forgetting poor Peggy) my hearty love. My wife joins with, dear Mr. B——,
Your very affectionate, sympathizing friend, and servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXIV.
To Mr. E—— P——.
London, December 17, 1753.
Dear Sir,
I DOUBT not but the receipt of this will fill you with surprize; yet I hope it will be a pleasing one. Last night after preaching, your son, who hath been lately confined, came to me and gave me a particular detail of his seemingly unhappy circumstances.—The narration affected me, and I asked him to stay supper; the company then with me I thought was what he wanted.—The consequence was, that he went home rejoicing in God; temptations subsided. I cannot help thinking, but that if he conversed with proper persons who knew his case, he might yet come forth as gold tried in the fire. His experience is somewhat uncommon, and perhaps when sufficiently humbled, the glorious Redeemer may exalt him. Satan hath certainly desired to have him to sift him as wheat; but I verily believe Jesus hath prayed for him, and therefore his faith shall not fail. As I know what unspeakable concern, tender parents must necessarily undergo for a child in such a way, I could not help sending a few lines to you. If the glorious Emmanuel, whose love constrains me to write, should vouchsafe to bless them to the consolation of you and yours, it would much rejoice, dear Sir,
Your sympathizing though unknown friend, and servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXV.
To C—— W——.
London, December 20, 1753.
My dear Friend,
I MOST sincerely rejoice in, and have given private and public thanks for the recovery of your dear yoke-fellow. My pleasure is increased by seeing your brother so well, as I found him on Tuesday at Lewisham.—O that you may both spring afresh, and your latter end increase more and more! Talk not of having no more work in the vineyard; I hope all our work is but just beginning. I am sure it is high time for me to do something for Him, who hath done and suffered so much for me.—Near forty years old, and such a dwarf! The Winter come already, and so little done in the Summer! I am ashamed, I blush and am confounded. And yet God blesseth us here. Truly his out-goings are seen in the tabernacle. The top-stone is brought forth; we will now cry Grace! grace! I must away. Our joint respects attend you all. I hope Mr. H—— mends; I hear that his brother is dead. Lord, make us also ready! My most dutiful respects await our elect Lady.—God willing, she shall hear soon from, my dear friend,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MXVI.
To the Marquiss L——.
London, December 27, 1753.
My Lord,
A MATTER of some importance, is the occasion of my troubling your Lordship with another letter. The reverend Mr. G—— T—— of [♦]Philadelphia, and the reverend Mr. D—— from Virginia (both eminent ministers of Jesus Christ) are just arrived. They are commissioned to apply for a general collection in Scotland, and to procure private contributions for the building and maintaining a presbyterian college in New-Jersey province. What I would therefore beg of your Lordship is, that your Lordship would do them the honour of permitting them to wait upon you, and that they may be also introduced to Lord L——. One Mr. D—— D——, who I believe was lately chosen a correspondent member of that society, over which your Lordship presides, and who is a steady friend to the interests of the Redeemer, if your Lordship is pleased to give leave, will come along with them. I shall wait for your Lordship’s answer, and then apprize them of it. In the mean time, I heartily wish your Lordship not the compliments, but the blessings of the season, even all those blessings that have been purchased for a lost world by the death and sufferings of an incarnate God.—Adored, for ever adored be his free grace, he vouchsafes to [♠]manifest himself amongst us here. Conviction and conversion work seems to go on prosperously, and God’s people are abundantly refreshed. That your Lordship may continually drink of divine pleasures as out of a river, is and shall be the earnest prayer of, my Lord,
Your Lordship’s most dutiful, obliged and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
[♦] “Philadephia” replaced with “Philadelphia”
[♠] “mamanifest” replaced with “manifest”
LETTER MXVII.
To Mr. G——.
London, December 27, 1753.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
I AM surprized to find by your last kind letter, that my poor journals are not come to hand. My wife informs me that they were sent to, or by one Mr. E——, who was to send off goods the very next day. Perhaps it will please you to hear that Messrs. T—— and D—— supped with me last night; may the good Lord prosper the work of their hands upon them! I hope they will be introduced soon to the Marquiss of L——, and by him to Lord L——. I shall help them all I can. At the great day all things will be laid open. O how do I long for it! And yet, how ashamed shall I be to appear before my Lord, when I have done so little for him, and made such poor returns for his dying love! Would you think it? I am this day thirty-nine years of age. Did not my business require my attendance, I could lock myself up, and lie prostrate all the day long in deep humiliation before him, who hath vouchsafed to call me by his grace, reveal his son in me, and I trust made me the instrument, (O amazing love!) of calling some others to the experimental knowledge of the same unspeakable gift. My dear, very dear Sir, let none of my friends cry to such a sluggish, lukewarm, unprofitable worm, “Spare thyself.” Rather spur me on, I pray you, with an “Awake thou sleeper, and begin to begin to do something for thy God.” The Lord being my helper, I will. Do thou strengthen me, my Lord and my God, and I will go for thee, at thy command, to the uttermost parts of the earth! O break, break my heart, look to him, whom thou hast pierced.—Look and love, look and mourn, look and praise; thy God is yet thy God! Every day, Sir, we hear of fresh work; scores of notes are put up by persons brought under conviction, and God’s people are abundantly refreshed. Last night the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle; I cannot tell you half.—I am lost, I am lost in wonder. I must retire to give vent to my heart. For the present, my dear Sir, adieu! The Lord bless you and yours, and all my other dear friends. Ere long, I hope to spend an eternal new year with you in the Jerusalem which is above. That in the mean time, all things belonging to the old man may die in us, and all things belonging to the new man may more and more live and grow in us, is the earnest prayer of, my very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MXVIII.
To Lady H——n.
London, January 3, 1754.
Ever-honoured Madam,
ERE now, I hope your Ladyship is delivered from suspense, and that the danger concerning little master is entirely over. The concern I was in for your Ladyship when I wrote last, made me forget to speak about Mrs. H——. And indeed I cannot tell where she lodges. I could wish she was bettered by affliction.—But alas! though, why do I speak of others, when another new year is come, and I am bettered so little by all the Lord hath done for and in me? O that he may dig and dung round this barren fig-tree, that it may at length begin to bring forth some fruit unto God! But who can tell what this digging and dunging means? What temptations, afflictions and trials of every kind doth it include? And all little enough to keep these hearts in any tolerable order. Out of darkness he can and will bring light. That your Ladyship may experience this more and more every day, is and shall be the earnest prayer of, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXIX.
To Mr. W.——.
London, January 5, 1754.
My dear Mr. W——,
YOUR letter much affected as well as surprized me.—I may say of it as Dr. G—— says of the Apostle Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians, “It smelt of the prison.” Surely God’s thoughts are not as our thoughts, neither are his ways as our ways. How amazingly does he over-rule all things, for the spiritual and eternal good of those who love him in sincerity! Through his gracious and never-failing care, out of the eater cometh forth meat, and out of the strongest trial cometh forth unspeakable, spiritual sweetness. If this be the effect of affliction, then may the believer boldly say,
All hail reproach, and welcome pain!
Surely you may sing,
—— O happy rod,
Which brought me nearer to my God.
Now will you prove the strength of Jesus to be yours, now, will you find that your very enemies shall be at peace with you; ravens shall feed you, and the bread which you cast upon the waters many days ago, shall now happily be found. I sympathize most sincerely with your dear yoke-fellow, and parent. Blessed be God, we have a rich Saviour to go to.—A Saviour, who though infinitely rich in himself, yet for our sakes became poor. Rejoice then, my dear friend, for having an opportunity of being conformed to him. And whether your affliction be brought on you by any imprudent conduct, or by the immediate hand of God, cast not off I pray you your confidence in Christ. He is a compassionate high-priest. Perhaps this year, if we should live to the fall, we may have an opportunity of conversing about him face to face. In the mean while, let us pray for each other, and wait for that blessed time, when we shall be afflicted and tossed no more. I meet with my share of trials; but with thankfulness would I set up my Ebenezer; for hitherto my God hath helped me. Glory be to his great name, his word runs and is glorified more and more. The wilderness in various places blossoms like a rose. May the Lord revive his work in your parts! Mr. D—— and Mr. T—— have supped with me twice. I hope they will meet with wished-for success. My wife joins in sending love and cordial respects to your whole self, your mother, sister, and all that love the glorious Jesus in sincerity. That you all may increase with all the increase of God, is the earnest prayer of, my dear Mr. W——,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXX.
To Governor B——.
London, January 11, 1754.
Honoured Sir,
I HAD the favour of your last kind letter by the hands of Messrs. T—— and D——, whose work I pray the Lord of all Lords to bless and prosper. Was Lady H——n in town, they should have been introduced before now, but at present she is at Bath drinking of the waters of life freely, and communicating them freely to others. One of Cæsar’s houshold hath been lately awakened through her Ladyship’s instrumentality, and I hope others will meet with like blessing. Amongst the common people the gospel also runs, and is glorified in divers places. Our new tabernacle the Redeemer vouchsafes to fill with his presence, and gives us daily to hear that delightful music, “The triumphs of his word.” Winter quarters are made pleasant to me, but I long for my Spring campaign.—Perhaps it may be a Spring Voyage.—For I am now seriously thinking of a voyage to America, and live in hopes of seeing your Excellency once more on this side eternity. Lord Jesus, do thou shew me what thou wouldest have me to do! This, this I trust at present is the unfeigned language of my heart,
A life that all things casts behind,
Springs forth obedient at thy call.
I beg a continued interest in your Excellency’s prayers, that I may be kept from flagging in the latter stages of my road, and ripen for heaven every day and every hour. I am now thirty-nine years old, and little dreamt of being kept on earth so long; but I find we are immortal till our work is done. O that I may now begin to begin to work for Jesus! He is worthy, he is altogether lovely, he is the fairest among ten thousand. To his never-failing mercy and endearing love I most humbly recommend your Excellency’s whole self, always subscribing myself, honoured Sir,
Your Excellency’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXXI.
To Mr. S——.
London, January 11, 1754.
Dear Mr. S——,
WHY did you not apprize me of your going? Why did you not let me have an opportunity of sending my packets after you to Portsmouth? You sailed only a day or two before I came there myself. However, I am glad to hear that you are safe arrived. May it be an earnest of your arriving ere long in the kingdom of heaven! Perhaps we may meet this Summer. I hope we shall see each other grown in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. You and I are much indebted to him. We have not a moment of time to lose. We ought to be continually saying, “What shall we render unto the Lord?” O for zeal! O for activity in his glorious service! A crucified Jesus! An incarnate God! What doth his love, his dying, yet never-dying love demand at our hands? Answer that question who can. It will nonplus men and angels. Blessed be his free grace, we find here that his name is Wonderful. Our new tabernacle is compleated, and the workmen all paid. What is best of all, the Redeemer manifests his glory in it. Every day, souls come crying, “What shall we do to be saved?” This I believe you will look upon to be the best news. But I can now no more. Accept this as a token of love unfeigned, from, my dear Mr. S——,
Yours, &c. in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXII.
To Mr. B——.
London, January 19, 1754.
My dear Mr. B——,
ALL is well, and why? Because all things are of our Lord’s ordering. May he perfect his strength in your weakness, and the more the outward man decayeth, may you be strengthened so much the more by his holy spirit in the inner man!—Welcome flux, welcome fever, welcome the plague itself, if sanctified to bring us nearer to our God. Yet a little while, and he that cometh, will come, and will not tarry. I wish you much prosperity under the cross.—You must return the favour; I stand in need of much prayer. Perhaps ere long I may be called to occupy my business in the great waters. If not, God willing, you shall see me. In the mean while, pray give my love to all, especially to those mentioned in your last. God help them to hold on and hold out! In heaven they will sing the louder for being called by such an ill and hell-deserving creature as I am. Blessed be God, awakening work goes on here: every sermon preached this Winter hath been fetched out of the furnace.—But what are we to expect as christians and ministers, but afflictions? I thank you for your kind offer, and orders to command. Such I seldom comply with. Though poor, yet desiring at least to make many rich, I would have for my motto still. Some way or another, my God will supply all my wants. I am sorry that the volume of the Christian Library was forgotten. I shall write to my dear Mr. S—— to send you his, and yours may be sent to him. Whatever becomes of written christian libraries, I earnestly pray that your heart, my dear Sir, may be the library of Jesus Christ, and beg leave to subscribe myself,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXIII.
To Mr. W——.
London, January 19, 1754.
Dear Mr. W——,
AS my embarking for America seems to be very near at hand, your question must necessarily be answered in the negative. However, I thank you for your kind offer, and earnestly pray that wherever you are called to labour, you may find the work of the Lord prospering in your hands. I did not know that there was any demur between you and those with whom you have been for some time connected; and I am sure, God is my witness, that I want to draw no man from them. People, money, power, are not my objects. I desire to know nothing but Jesus Christ, and him crucified, and to be a willing pilgrim for his great name’s sake. At present this is the language of my heart,
Lord, obediently I’d go,
Gladly leaving all below.
I intreat you to pray that my faith fail not. Lord, increase it for thy infinite mercy’s sake! We have blessed seasons here: the glory of the Lord fills our new tabernacle. If possible, I shall send the books you desire to Leeds. I hope you find your present illness sanctified. That is a sign of special love.—Adieu. I am in great haste. But with greater love, I subscribe myself, dear Mr. W——,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXIV.
To Mr. ——.
London, February 2, 1754.
Dear Sir,
BY your writing, I guess you are a brand plucked out of the fire of the polite and gay world.—Happy deliverance! I intreat you to rejoice, give thanks, and sing,
Be gone, vain world, my heart resign,
For I must be no longer thine;
A fairer, a diviner guest,
Now claims possession of my breast.
I do not wonder to hear of your being under trials; you are to be made perfect by them. Right-hand and right-eye corruptions are not so easily cut off, or plucked out; but this must be done. Not one Agag, however beautiful, and importunate for life, must be spared: the sword of the spirit must be lifted up, and as an enemy to the Lord of life and glory, he must be hewn to pieces. Jesus, the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus, cannot away with idols:—And why? Because they rob us of our peace, estrange us from our God, and unfit us for the enjoyment of that better world, where I hope to see you encircled in the arms of redeeming love. Flee therefore, dear Sir, flee, I intreat you, youthful lusts. Jesus will give you wings and feet, and after all reward you, as though you fled in a strength of your own. O often, often contemplate, and dwell upon his dying for you. This will sweetly constrain you to be willing even to die for him, and powerfully constrain you to be ready to every good word and work. O that I may take this advice myself! You must pray that I may; a trial is at hand. In about three weeks I am bound for America.—A multiplicity of business lies before me; but to convince you that your correspondence is not troublesome, I snatch a few minutes to send you these lines, from, dear Sir,
Your affectionate friend and servant for Christ’s sake.
G. W.
LETTER MXXV.
To Lady H——n.
London, February 14, 1754.
Honoured Madam,
YOUR Ladyship’s kind letter came safe to hand.—I immediately sent for Mr. M——, delivered his, and saw it consumed. He hath the most grateful sense of your Ladyship’s great benevolence. It is, as your Ladyship suspects in relation to his wife; she is a Zipporah, a thorn in the flesh. Ministers must expect such things. I hope your Ladyship is enabled to bear with fortitude the scratches you must necessarily meet with in this wide howling wilderness. You have a Beloved to lean upon, who is mighty and willing to save. Blessed be his name, for giving you a heart to retire from the pomps and vanities of a dreaming and delusive world. Happy they, who can enjoy their God and themselves. This only the true christian can do. Such a one I believe your Ladyship to be.—My prayer to the Lord of all Lords in your Ladyship’s behalf, is that you may grow in grace, and abound continually in every good word and work. This is the only return I can make your Ladyship for the regard and concern you have expressed for me, as an unworthy minister of the Son of God. For his great name sake, I expect in a fortnight, once more to launch into the great deep, with about ten or twelve poor destitute orphans under my care. O my God, why am I thus honoured, to be employed as a pilgrim for thee? I trust this is the language of my heart,
A life that all things casts behind,
Springs forth obedient to thy call;
A heart that no desire can move,
But still t’adore, believe and love,
Give me, my Lord, my life, my all.
But whither am I going? Be pleased, honoured Madam, to excuse this freedom; your Ladyship’s kind letter constrains me to write thus. Honoured Madam, I thank you a thousand and a thousand times, for all your kind offers of serving me, and the church of God. At present (since you have so lately let the tabernacle have such an instance of your regard) I have only to beg the continuance of your Ladyship’s prayers, and to subscribe myself without dissimulation, honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for the dear Redeemer’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXXVI.
To Mrs. G——.
London, February 15, 1754.
Dear Madam,
WITH this I send you the promised pamphlet, which was written with a single eye to prevent fraud and superstition, and to promote the Mediator’s glory. Notwithstanding, I would advise you, dear Madam, not to let other people’s foibles drive you from the cross of Christ: he is altogether lovely.—And if persons were more taken up in contemplation of his loveliness, and their own deformities, they would not have so much time to talk of others, nor take so much pains to gain proselytes to any particular party under heaven. Such a practice is beneath the dignity of a free-born child of God.—His spirit breathes another kind of language, and teaches us to be all eye within. O that your heart may be filled with that wisdom which is from above, which is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be intreated, without partiality, without hypocrisy, and full of faith, self-denial, zeal, disinterestedness, and good works! That Jesus, whom I believe you love, is able, dear Madam, to fill you with this wisdom. He hath promised, “if we ask, it shall be given.” Nay, he hath said, “that he giveth liberally and upbraideth not.” May you be enabled to lay hold on him in the omnipotence of prayer, and find grace to help in every time of need! Have you not found him faithful, in your intended visit to your friend? May you be made wise as an angel of God, to win her and others over to the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus! Pray, dear Madam, have you heard from Bath? There is a copy you may safely write after; but a perfect one is no where to be found but in our common Lord, the God-man Christ Jesus. To his tender and never-failing mercy do I most humbly recommend you, and, for his great name’s sake, most heartily subscribe myself, dear Madam,
Your most obliged and ready servant,
G. W.
LETTER MXXVII.
To Mr. S——
Lisbon Harbour, March 17, 1754.
My very dear Sir,
SURELY our God is a prayer-hearing, promise-keeping God. He delights to disappoint our fears, and even exceeds our hopes. On the seventh instant we left Gravesend; on the eighth we passed through the downs, and yesterday we anchored in this port. Through the channel we met not with the least obstruction, neither had we the least contrary wind all the way. Cape Finisterre, the Burlings, and the rock of Lisbon, (high-lands we desired to make) we came directly upon, and though the wind was very high, yet being for us, it was not so troublesome, but (like sanctified afflictions to the christian) drove us nearer to our desired haven. We are now lying before a large place, where we see hundreds going to worship in their way. We have just been at ours, and I trust I have felt something of that rest, which remains, even on this side eternity, for the people of God. You and yours are not forgotten by me at his throne. No, I remember you night and day, and am longing for that happy time, when we shall part no more. Though sent without a friend to return with me, yet I am not left alone. I thank the Lord of all Lords, for honouring me so far as to employ me on such expeditions as these. O my God, what am I, that I should be called to leave my native country, and to sacrifice not only my carnal but spiritual affections for thee! Thy presence on earth, thy presence in heaven, will make amends for all. Well! Blessed be God, this heaven is at hand. Yet a little while, and he that cometh, will come, and will not tarry. O that he may find us busy for him! I am persuaded this will be your case. Add, my dear Sir, to my manifold obligations, by praying that it may be mine also.—Fain would I be kept from flagging in the latter stages of my road; fain would I return to my native country (if I am to return) grown in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Indeed he is a good master. He hath given me the affections of all on board, and as kind a Captain as we could desire. What I meet with when on shore, you may know hereafter. I grudge your paying postage for my poor scribble, and yet I know not well how to prevent it. Be pleased to put it down to the amount of our common Lord, and if you have any leisure from working for the poor, and trading for him, let me have a line. I recommend you and them to the Redeemer’s never-failing mercy, and am, I trust with some degree of gratitude, very dear Sir,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MXXVIII.
To Mr. B——.
Lisbon Harbour, March 19, 1754.
My dear Mr. B——,
HOW soon does the scene shift? At what a distance, in a few days, may we be removed from each other! On the sixteenth instant, that God whom I desire to serve in the gospel of his dear Son, brought me and my orphan charge to this harbour. As yet I have not been on shore, but expect to go to-morrow. At this distance, I see enough to bless the Lord of all Lords for calling me out of darkness into his marvelous light, and for redeeming me from this present evil world. O my dear friend, to an eye fixed on the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus, how little, unspeakably little do all sublunary things appear. I hope this will find my dear Mr. B—— crying out from the bottom of his heart, “indeed they are not worth a thought.” Well said, my dear Sir; let us then be laudably ambitious, and get as rich as we can towards God; such are durable riches. The bank of heaven is a sure bank. I have drawn thousands of bills upon it, and never had one sent back protested. God helping me, I purpose lodging my little earthly all there. I hope my present poor but valuable cargo, will make some additions to my heavenly inheritance. O free grace! That ever such an ill and hell-deserving wretch as I am, should ever be called out to leave his carnal and spiritual friends, for that friend of sinners the Lamb of God! These partings are indeed trying to nature; but heaven, my dear Sir, will make amends for all. There I hope to meet you and yours, whom I love in the bowels of Jesus Christ; there you shall be amply rewarded for all acts of kindness conferred either on me or mine. Increase my obligations, by continuing to pray for us, and accept this as a small tribute of thanks, and a testimony of love unfeigned, from, my dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MXXIX.
To Mr. R. K——n.
Lisbon, March 21, 1754.
My dear Mr. K——n,
I DO not forget my promise, either in respect to writing or praying.—Though at this distance, I am still present in spirit with you and yours, and with my other dear London friends; and I live in the expectation of seeing them all grown in grace, and in the knowledge of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.—This leaves me an old inhabitant of Lisbon.—We have now been here almost a week, and I suppose shall stay a fortnight longer.—A very reputable merchant hath received me into his house, and every day shews me the ecclesiastical curiosities of the country.—O my dear friend, bless the Lord of all Lords for causing your lot to be cast into such a fair ground as England, and giving you such a goodly heritage.—It is impossible to be sufficiently thankful for civil and religious liberty, for simplicity of worship, and powerful preaching of the word of God.—O for simplicity of manners, and a correspondent behaviour! “What shall I render unto the Lord for these amazing mercies,” ought surely to be the language of our hearts.—O that I was thankful! O that I was humble! My obligations to be so increase daily.—Every where does the Lord of all Lords command somebody or another to receive me.—All is well on board, and Lisbon air agrees with my poor constitution extremely.—Through divine assistance, I hope what I see will also much improve my better part, and help to qualify me better for preaching the everlasting gospel.—Amazing, that such an honour should be conferred on such an ill and hell-deserving worm! O pray for me, my dear friends, and add to my obligations by frequently visiting my poor wife.—Kindnesses shewn to her in my absence, will be double kindnesses.—You must remember me to dear Mr. C——n, to your relations, and all enquiring friends.—Adieu! The Lord Jesus be with your spirits. I am, my dear Mr. and Mrs. K——n,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXX.
To Mr. C——.
Lisbon, March 26, 1754.
My dear Friend,
SHALL I promise and not perform? I dare not. This therefore comes to inform you, that I am now as it were an old inhabitant of Lisbon, having been here above a week. In that time, what have I seen and heard? Strange and incredible things, not more strange than instructive. Never did civil and religious liberty appear to me in so amiable a light as now. What a spirit must Martin Luther, and the first Reformers be endued with, that dared to appear as they did for God! Lord, hasten that blessed time, when others, excited by the same spirit, shall perform like wonders. O happy England! O happy Methodists, who are Methodists indeed! And all I account such, who being dead to sects and parties, aim at nothing else but an holy method of living to, and dying in the blessed Jesus. This be their, this be my happy lot! Blessed be his name for calling me to a pilgrim life! Thanks be to his great name, for constraining me to leave all that is near and dear to me, for the sake of his glorious gospel. He takes care to provide for me. A gentleman hath most gladly received me into his house, and behaves like a friend indeed. To-day I dine with the Consul: ere long, I hope to sit down and eat bread in the kingdom of God. I wait for this salvation, O Lord! You must pray for me, and desire others to join with you. I intend writing to our elect Lady before I leave Lisbon. In about ten days we expect to sail. For the present, adieu! This leaves us all well. My fatherless charge is in good health. O that they may be converted and made new creatures in Christ! O that I may begin to begin to be converted myself.—I am a dwarf.—Less than the least of all, shall be my motto still. As such, pray for, my dear friend.
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXI.
To Mr. A——.
Lisbon, March 29, 1754.
Very dear Friend,
INDEED you have lost the seeing and hearing of many strange, but to a truly enlightened soul, instructive things. I thank God for sending me here; I know your heart hath been here also; but all is well.—What is, is best. I hope you go on comfortably at home, whilst I, unworthy, ill and hell-deserving I, am travelling for the same Lord Jesus abroad. He doth not leave me comfortless,—he doth not leave me alone;
His presence doth my pains beguile,
And makes me tho’ alone to smile.
O the happiness of seeing and enjoying all in God, even a God in Christ! Such happiness they only can know, who being separated from all that is near and dear unto them, can wrap themselves in Him, in whose presence there is life, and at whose right hand there are pleasures for evermore. This be my happy lot, during my present exile state! O my dear tabernacle friends, my dear never to be forgotten hearers, into what a fair ground is your lot cast! What a goodly heritage hath the Lord of all Lords vouchsafed you! I remember my promise, I think of your hours of meeting, and though absent in body, am, notwithstanding, present in spirit, and live in hopes of hearing of your stedfastness and joy in God our Saviour. Bless him, O bless him from your inmost souls, that you have been taught the way to him, without the help of fictitious saints. Thank him night and day, that to you, even to you are committed the lively oracles of God. Adore him continually for giving you to hear them preached with power, and pity and pray for those, who are forbid the use of this sacred depositum, and are led blindfold day by day, by crafty and designing men. May you see and improve your privileges! Much, very much indeed is given you. Of you, therefore, God and man may justly require the more: accept this in love. Continue to pray for me and my fatherless pilgrim charge. Blessed be God they are all well. I write this from a merchant’s house, whom the Lord of all lords hath inclined to receive me; let him not be forgotten. In a short time we expect to move. Still my request is, “If thy presence go not with me. Lord Jesus, send me not even from hence!” I wish you all, dear friends, much, very much of it. I intend to write to as many as I can, and I beg them and you to accept this as a token of love unfeigned, from, my very dear T——,
Theirs and yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXII.
To the Rev. Mr. Z——.
Lisbon, March 29, 1754.
My dear and honoured Sir,
THROUGH the goodness of a gracious and never-failing God, we have been at this place near a fortnight. Our voyage was but about nine days long, and the same God who took care of us on the great deep, hath also provided for me on shore. A merchant of great credit hath received me into his house, and every day I have seen or heard something, that hath had a native tendency to make me thankful for the glorious reformation. O that our people were equally reformed in their lives, as they are in their doctrines and manner of worship! But alas! alas!—O for another Luther, O for that wished-for season, when every thing that is antichristian shall be totally destroyed by the breath of the Redeemer’s mouth, and brightness of his appearing! Then should I, even ill and hell-deserving I, be entirely conformed to the copy of my great Exemplar, and nor be such a dwarf as I am in the divine life. As my present situation leads me to be all eye and ear, I endeavour to look more into my heart. But the more I see it, the more I admire the freeness and richness of that grace, that hath called me out of darkness into God’s marvelous light, and made me a minister of the everlasting gospel. May this voyage be over-ruled for my improvement in that delightful employ! Hitherto, I think it hath done me good. The country agrees with my bodily health; and, through grace, I trust what I have seen and heard hath benefited my soul. My fatherless charge are all well, and I hope in a few days we shall set sail for Georgia. From thence, God willing, honoured Sir, you shall hear from me again. In the meanwhile, I recommend myself to the continuance of your daily intercession, as being, very dear and honoured Sir,
Your most dutiful, obliged, though unworthy son and servant in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXIII.
To Mr. C——.
Lisbon, March 30, 1754.
Very dear Sir,
THIS leaves me pretty well satisfied (not to say surfeited) with the ecclesiastical curiosities of Lisbon. This day fortnight we arrived; and the country being in want of rain, and it being Lent season, we have been savoured with frequent processions, and several extraordinary pieces of scenery. Alas! to what lengths will superstition run! And how expensive is the pageantry of a false religion! Blessed be God for being born in England! Blessed be God for being born again, and thereby being taught to worship the Father in spirit and in truth! This, my dear Sir, I believe is your happy portion; and therefore if it should be our lot never to meet here any more, I am persuaded nothing can prevent our meeting in a blissful country hereafter. O that we may be kept from flagging in the latter stages of our road! I am confounded, when I think what a drone I have been, and daily wonder why the Lord employs such a worthless wretch.—Surely it must be, that in me he may shew all long-suffering. Help me, my dear friend, to praise him. Lisbon air seems healthy for the body; and what I have seen and heard I trust will benefit my soul. Be pleased to remember me to Mrs. C——, your son, and all enquiring friends. You will not forget to visit my widow wife. Blessed be God, her Maker is her husband, and ere long we shall all sit down together at the feast, the marriage supper of the Lamb. In a believing prospect of this, I subscribe myself, very dear Sir,
Yours, &c. in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXIV.
To Mr. F——.
Lisbon, March 31, 1754.
Dear Sir,
I OWE you much love.—I wish you and yours much [♦]happiness, and earnestly pray that you may walk together many years as heirs of the grace of life. Was I to be confined long in my present situation, I should be in danger of envying my protestant friends, who breathe in a free air, and are taught to worship the father of spirits in spirit and in truth. This I fear is the lot but of few here; all is pageantry and pomp. Particulars perhaps I may send by another opportunity. Blessed be God that I have seen and heard for myself. It surpasseth all description. This week we expect to sail: I beg the continuance of both your prayers; it will be a very great act of charity; for indeed I am a poor helpless worm, but notwithstanding, if I know any thing of my heart, willing to spend and be spent for Jesus. He doth not forsake me on the mighty waters.—My fatherless charge are all well, and in due time I hope we shall safely arrive at our desired port.—Ere long I hope to be, from whence I shall never put to sea any more. O for a triumphant entrance into the blissful harbour! Jesus is able to do this for us. To his never-failing mercy do I earnestly commend you, your brother, and all enquiring friends, as being, dear Sir,
Your affectionate, obliged friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
[♦] “happipiness” replaced with “happiness”
LETTER MXXXV.
To Mr. ——.
Lisbon, April 1, 1754.
My dear Friend,
BY this time, I suppose, you have heard of my arrival at Lisbon, and are wondering what led me thither, especially since my last informed you of my intention to go to Georgia by way of New-York. This was really my design at the time of my writing; but being afterward called by Providence to take with me several orphan children, I thought it most adviseable to go and settle them, and my other domestic affairs, at the Orphan-house first, that I might visit the northern parts of America with more ease and freedom in my own mind.—It happened that the Success, Captain Thomson, bound for Port-Royal, South-Carolina, (which is not very far from Georgia) was then almost ready to sail.—I sent for the Owner, and finding that the ship was to touch at Lisbon to unload some wheat, it occasioned a little demur; but, upon second thoughts, believing it might be serviceable to me, as a preacher and protestant, to see something of the superstitions of the church of Rome, I took my passage, and embarked in the Success the 7th of March. On the 14th we reached Cape Finister. On the 15th came in sight of the Burlings; and on the 16th anchored safe before Bellem, about four miles distance from Lisbon, the metropolis of Portugal. As I knew nobody there, and had formed but an indifferent idea of the inhabitants, from the account that had been given me of them, I had purposed within myself to keep on board, and go ashore only now and then in the day-time. But Providence so ordered it, that a gentleman of the factory, who had heard me himself, and whose brother had been awakened under my ministry several years ago, immediately, on hearing of my arrival, sent me an offer of his house during my stay. I thankfully accepted it; and special leave being procured for my going ashore, I was carried in a chaise and pair from Bellem to Lisbon. A new scene, both in respect to the situation of the place, the fashion of the buildings, and the dress of the inhabitants, presented itself all the way. But what engaged my attention most, was the number of crucifixes, and little images of the Virgin Mary, and of other real or reputed saints, which were placed almost in every street, or fixed against the walls of the houses almost at every turning, with lamps hanging before them. To these, I observed the people bow as they passed along; and near some of them stood several little companies, singing with great earnestness.——This seemed to me very odd, and gave me an idea of what further ecclesiastical curiosities would probably fall in my way, if I should be detained here any time. These expectations were quickly raised; for, not long after my arrival at my new lodgings, (where I was received and entertained with great gentility, hospitality and friendliness) upon looking out of the window, I saw a company of priests and friars bearing lighted wax tapers, and attended by various sorts of people, some of which had bags and baskets of victuals in their hands, and others carried provisions upon their shoulders on sticks between two. After these, followed a mixed multitude, singing with a very audible voice, and addressing the Virgin Mary in their usual strain, “Ora pro nobis.” In this manner they proceeded to the prison, where all was deposited for the use of the poor persons confined therein. But a far more pompous procession of the like nature (as a stander-by informed me) passed by a few days before. In this there were near three hundred Franciscan friars, many of which (besides porters hired for the purpose) were loaded with a variety of food; and those who bore no burden, carried either ladles or spoons in their hands. Sights of this nature being quite a novelty to me, I was fond of attending as many of them as I could. Two things concurred to make them more frequent at this juncture,—the season of Lent,—and an excessive drought, which threatened the total destruction of the fruits of the earth. For the averting so great a judgment, and for the imploring the much longed-for blessing of rain, daily processions had been made from one convent or another, for a considerable time.—One of these I saw: it was looked upon as a pretty grand one, being made up of the Carmelite friars, the parish priests, and a great number of what they call the brothers of the order, who walked two by two in divers habits, holding a long and very large lighted wax-taper in their right hands. Amidst these was carried, upon eight or ten mens shoulders, a tall image of the Virgin Mary, in a kind of man’s attire; for I think she had a very fine white wig on her head, (a dress she often appears in) and was much adorned with jewels and glittering stones. At some distance from the Lady, under a large canopy of state, and supported likewise by six or eight persons, came a priest, holding in his hand some noted relic. After him, followed several thousands of people, joining with the friars in singing, “Eandem cantilenam, Ora pro nobis,” all the way. Still rain was denied, and still processions were continued. At length the clouds began to gather, and the mercury in the barometer fell very much. Then was brought out a wooden image, which they say never failed. It was the figure of our blessed Lord, cloathed with purple robes, and crowned with thorns. I think they call him the Lord of the Passion. Upon his shoulders he bore a large cross, under the weight of which he was represented as stooping, till his body bent almost double. He was brought from the Le Grass convent in very great pomp, and placed in a large cathedral church.——Being on board at that time, I lost this sight; but the subsequent evening I beheld the Seigneur fixed on an eminence in a large cathedral church, near the altar, surrounded with wax tapers of a prodigious size.—He was attended by many noblemen, and thousands of spectators of all ranks and stations, who crouded from every quarter, and in their turns, were admitted by the guards to come within the rails, and perform their devotions. This they expressed by kneeling, and kissing the Seigneur’s heel, by putting their left and right eye to it, and then touching it with their beads, which a gentleman in waiting received from them, and then returned again. This scene was repeated for three days successively; and during all this time, the church and space before it was so thronged with carriages and people, that there was scarce any passing. The music on this occasion was extremely soft, and the church was illuminated in a very striking manner. The third day in the forenoon it rained, and soon after the Seigneur was conducted home in as great splendour, and with much greater rejoicing, than when he was brought forth. As my situation was very commodious, I saw the whole; and afterwards went and heard part of the sermon, which was delivered before him, in the church to which the Seigneur belonged. The preacher was full of action; and in some part of his discourse, (as one who understood Portuguese informed me) pointing to the image, he said, “Now he is at rest.—He went out in justice, but is returned in mercy.” And towards the conclusion, he called upon the people to join with him in an extempore prayer. This they did with great fervency, which was expressed not only by repeating it aloud, but by beating their breasts, and clapping their cheeks, and weeping heartily.——To compleat the solemnity, immediately after the delivery of the blessing, all on a sudden, from the place near which the image stood, there was heard a most soft and soothing symphony of music, which being ended, the assembly broke up, and I returned to my lodgings; not a little affected, to see so many thousands led away from the simplicity of the gospel, by such a mixture of human artifice and blind superstition, of which indeed I could have formed no idea, had I not been an eye witness. This concern was still increased, by what I heard from some of my fellow passengers, who informed me, that about eleven one night, after I came aboard, they not only heard a friar preaching most fervently before the Seigneur, but also saw several companies of penitents brought in, lashing and whipping themselves severely. How little unlike this, to those who cut themselves with knives and lancets, and cried out from morning till night, “O Baal, hear us.”——Methinks I hear you say, “And had I been present, I should have wished for the spirit of an Elijah to—” Hush, my friend,—I am content to guess at the rest till we meet. In the mean while, let us comfort ourselves with this thought, that there is a season approaching, when the Lord God of Elijah will himself come, and destroy this and every other species of antichrist, by the breath of his mouth, and the brightness of his appearing, even by the all-conquering manifestations of his eternal Spirit. Whether as men, christians, and protestants, we have not more and more reason to pray night and day, for the hastening on of that glorious and long wished-for period, you will be better able to judge, when I send you (as I purpose to do, if I have time) a further account of a Lent procession or two, of which I was also a spectator.——At present I can only beg a continual remembrance at a throne of grace, as being, my dear friend,
Yours most respectfully in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXVI.
To the Same.
Lisbon, April 3, 1754.
My dear Friend,
THOUGH some other business demands my attentions yet I must not forget the promise made you of a further account of the processions I saw at Lisbon.——Some of those already mentioned, were extraordinary, by reason of their great drought; but that which is to be the subject of my present letter, was an annual one: it being customary at Lisbon to exhibit some procession or another every Friday in Lent. An intelligent Protestant, who stood near me, was so good as to be my interpreter of the dumb shew as it passed along.—I say dumb shew: for you must know it was chiefly made up of waxen or wooden images, carried on mens shoulders through the streets, intending to represent the life and death of St. Francis, the founder of one of their religious orders. They were brought out from the Franciscan convent, and were preceded by three persons in scarlet habits, with baskets in their hands, in which they received the alms of the spectators, for the benefit of the poor prisoners. After these, came two little boys in party-coloured cloaths, with wings fixed on their shoulders, in imitation of little angels.—Then appeared the figure of St. Francis, very gay and beau-like, as he used to be before his conversion. In the next, he was introduced under conviction, and consequently stript of his finery. Soon after this, was exhibited an image of our blessed Lord himself, in a purple gown, with long black hair, with St. Francis lying before him, to receive his immediate orders. Then came the Virgin Mother, (horresco referens) with Christ her son at her left hand, and St. Francis making his obeisance to both.——Here, if I remember aright, he made his first appearance in his friar’s habit, with his hair cut short, but not as yet shaved in the crown of his head. After a little space, followed a mitred Cardinal gaudily attired, and before him lay St. Francis almost prostrate, in order to be confirmed in his office. Soon after this, he appears quite metamorphosed into a monk, his crown shorn, his habit black, and his loins girt with a knotted cord.—Here he prays to our Saviour hanging on a cross, that the marks of the wounds in his hands, feet, and side, might be impressed on the same parts of his body. The prayer is granted; blood comes from the hands, feet, and side; and the saint, with great devotion, receives the impressions. This was represented by red waxen strings, reaching from those parts of the image to the corresponding parts of St. Francis’s body. Upon this he begins to do wonders; and therefore, in a little while, he is carried along, as holding up a house which was just falling. This miracle, they say, was performed (if my information be true) at Madrid, but the particulars of its history I have forgotten. At length the father dies, and is brought forth lying in his grave. But lo! the briars and nettles under which he lay, are turned into fine and fragrant flowers. After this he is borne along upon a bier covered with a silver pall, and four friars lamenting over him.——He then appears for the last time, but with an increase of power; for he was represented as drawing tormented people out of purgatory with his knotted cord, which, as you may well imagine, the poor souls catched at, and took hold of very eagerly. At length came a gorgeous friar under a splendid canopy, bearing in his hand a piece of the holy cross. After him followed two more little winged boys, and then a long train of fat and well-flavoured Franciscans, with their Calceis Fenestratis, as Erasmus calls them; and so the procession ended. Methinks I hear you say, “It is full time;”—and so say I: for as the sight itself disgusted me, so I am persuaded the bare narration of it, though ever so short, cannot be very pleasant to one who I know abhors every thing that savours of superstition and idolatry. We will therefore take our leave of St. Francis, whose procession was in the day time: but I must tell you it is only to inform you of another of a much more awful and shocking nature, which I saw afterwards at night. About ten o’clock, being deeply engaged in conversation with my kind host, in came an Englishman, and told me in all haste, that he had seen a train of near two hundred penitents passing along, and that in all probability I might be gratified with the same sight, if I hastened to a place whither he would conduct me. I very readily obeyed the summons, and, as curiosity quickened my pace, we soon came up with some of those poor creatures, who were then making a halt, and kneeling in the street, whilst a friar from a high cross, with an image of our Lord crucified in his hand, was preaching to them and the populace with great vehemence. Sermon being ended, the penitents went forwards, and several companies followed after with their respective preaching friars at their head, bearing crucifixes. These they pointed to and brandished frequently, and the hearers as frequently beat their breasts, and clapped their cheeks. At proper pauses they stopped and prayed, and one of them, more zealous than the rest, before the King’s palace, sounded the word penitentia through a speaking trumpet. The penitents themselves were clothed and covered all over with white linen vestments, only holes were made for their eyes to peep out at. All were bare-footed, and all had long heavy chains fastened to their ancles, which, when dragged along the street, made a dismal rattling: but though alike in dress, yet in other respects there was great variety amongst them. For some carried great stones on their backs, and others dead mens bones and skulls in their hands. Some bore large and seemingly very heavy crosses upon their shoulders, whilst others had their arms extended quite wide, or carried a bow full of swords with the points downwards. Most of them whipped and lashed themselves, some with cords, and others with flat bits of iron. It being a moonshine night, I could see them quite well; and indeed some of them struck so hard, that I perceived their backs (left bare on purpose to be slashed) were quite red, and swoln very much by the violence and repetition of the blows. Had my dear friend been there, he would have joined with me in saying, that the whole scene was horrible;—so horrible, that, being informed it was to be continued till morning, I was glad to return from whence I came about midnight.——Had you been with me, I know you would have joined with me in praising and gratefully adoring the Lord of all lords, for the great wonder of the reformation, and also for that glorious deliverance wrought out for us a few years past, in defeating the unnatural rebellion. O what a mighty spirit and power from on high must Luther, Calvin, Melancthon, Zuinglius, and those glorious reformers, be necessarily endued with, who dared first openly to oppose and stem such a torrent of superstition and spiritual tyranny! and what gratitude owe we to those, who, under God, were instrumental in saving us from the return of such spiritual slavery, and such blind obedience to a papal power! To have had a papist for our king;—a papist, if not born, yet from his infancy nursed up at Rome;—a papist, one of whose sons is advanced to the ecclesiastical dignity of a Cardinal, and both under the strongest obligations to support the interest of that church, whose superstitions, as well as political state principles, they have sucked in, and imbibed even from their infancy. But, blessed be God, the snare is broken, and we are delivered. O for protestant practices to be added to protestant principles! O for an obediential acknowledgment to the ever-blessed God for our repeated deliverances! But alas!——Pardon me, my dear friend, I stop to weep. Adieu. I cannot enlarge, but leaving you to guess from what source my tears flow, I must hasten to subscribe myself, my dear Sir,
Yours most cordially in our blessed Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXVII.
To Mr. B——.
Lisbon, April 9, 1754.
Reverend and dear Sir,
THE time of our departure hence is just at hand. I cannot move without sending you a few lines; I remember your unmerited love, I remember our affectionate parting, and I trust feel the benefit of your distant prayers. Though called to part with what is dearer to me than life, yet my heavenly Father hath not left me comfortless. True, it is a silent, but I hope an instructive period of life. One must be all eye and ear at Lisbon:—and indeed, I would not but have seen and heard what hath passed here, since our arrival, upon any account. It surpasseth all description. Surely England, and English privileges civil and religious, will be dearer to me than ever. The preachers here have also taught me something; their action is graceful. Vividi oculi,—vividæ manus,—omnia vivida. Surely our English preachers would do well, to be a little more fervent in their address. They have truth on their side, why should superstition and falshood run away with all that is pathetic and affecting? But my dear friend needs not this note. Blessed be God for making you fervent in spirit. Go on, my dear Sir, in the name and strength of Jesus. Sequar, etsi non passibus æquis.—Nil desperandum Christo duce. Pray remember me to all that love him, and are so kind as to enquire after a worthless worm for his great name’s sake. It will be an act of the greatest charity to intercede in my behalf. Alas! alas! I am a dwarf indeed. My dear Sir, pray that I may grow, I cannot bear to live at this dying rate. I want to be a flame of fire. That this may be your happy lot, is and shall be, through Christ strengthening me, the earnest request of, my very dear Sir,
Your most unworthy, though affectionate friend, brother, and fellow-labourer in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXVIII.
To Mrs. G——.
Lisbon, April 9, 1754.
Dear Madam,
I HOPE this will find you more than happy, in the enjoyment of Him, whose death and passion many at this season are peculiarly called upon to remember, and be thankful for. Vast are the outward preparations made here. Altars upon altars are erecting. Penitents upon penitents are walking and lashing themselves: but what I want to have erected and adorned, is an altar in my heart, and the blows and lashes I desire to feel, are the crucifixion and mortification of the old man and its deeds. Without this, all is mere parade. God be praised for opening your eyes, and teaching you the holy art of worshipping him in spirit and in truth. Is it not a glorious privilege? Would you lose it for ten thousand worlds? Blessed be God, it is in safe hands! The life of a believer is a hidden life; a life hid with Christ in God. May the Author and Finisher thereof, cause it to open and be displayed more and more every hour and every moment in your heart! Thus prays, dear Madam,
Your most obliged and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXXXIX.
To Mr. H——.
Lisbon, April 10, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
STILL I am here, surrounded with every thing, in an ecclesiastical way, that can offend a mind which desires to worship the Lord Jesus in outward as well as inward simplicity. To-morrow is what they call Holy Thursday. May I be as solicitous to have my heart illuminated by the spirit of God, as the people here are to illuminate their churches and altars. The pageantry is indeed incredible. Though we have been detained longer than expectation, yet I trust what I have seen and heard, will do me service in the future part of my life. Was I returning to, as I am going from England, and had I a proper companion, I would make a tour to Leghorn, Genoa, Rome, &c. and so to Marseilles. What instruction would such a mind as yours gather from such various scenes? O that I may be like a busy bee, and suck some honey even from superstitious flowers! I do not wonder now, whence the illuminations, dressing of altars, and those other things which I have lately mentioned in a public manner on another occasion, took their birth. It is all in imitation of what is daily practised abroad. May the Lord Jesus crush the cockatrice in its egg, and prevent its growing any bigger! I write this from a merchant’s house, who sent for me from on board. Thus our Lord provides for those that are employed for him. Help me to praise him. My fatherless charge are all well. In a day or two we expect to sail. My most cordial respects attend your mother, and all your dear relations. Continue to pray for me, and thereby add to the obligations already conferred on, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXL.
Lisbon, April 12, 1754.
My dear Friend,
PROVIDENCE still detains us at Lisbon, and therefore I know you will be enquiring what more news from thence?—Truly, as extraordinary as ever—for I have now seen the solemnities of an Holy-Thursday, which is a very high day in this metropolis, and particularly remarkable for the grand illuminations of the churches, and the king’s washing twelve poor men’s feet.—Through the interest of a friend, I got admittance into the gallery where the ceremony was performed. It was large, and hung with tapestry; one piece of which represented the humble Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.—Before this, upon a small eminence, sat twelve men in black. At the upper end, and in several other parts of the gallery, were side-boards of large gold and silver basons and ewers most curiously wrought; and near these a large table covered with a variety of dishes, all cold, set off and garnished after the Portuguese fashion. Public high mass being over, his majesty came in attended with his nobles, who seemed to me to look like so many Roman senators. The act of washing the feet, I did not get in time enough to see; but that being ended, several of the young noblemen served up the dishes to the king’s brother and uncles; these again handed them to his majesty, who gave (I think) twelve of them in all to each poor man. Every thing was carried on with a great deal of decency and good humour. The young noblemen served very chearfully, their seniors looked quite pleased, and the king and his royal relations behaved in a very polite, easy manner,—upon the whole, though as you may easily guess it was not an exact copy of the tapestry, yet, as the poor mens cloaths and food, when sold, came to about ten moidores; and as there was little mixture of superstition in it, I cannot say but I was as well pleased with my morning’s entertainment as with any thing I had seen since my arrival.—I believe the whole took up near two hours. After dinner we went to see the churches; but the [♦]magnificence and sumptuousness of the furniture, cannot well be expressed.—Many of them were hung on the occasion with purple damask trimmed with gold.—In one of them there was a solid silver altar of several yards circumference, and near twelve steps high: and in another a gold one, still more magnificent, of about the same dimensions.—Its basis was studded with many precious stones, and near the top were placed silver images, in representation of angels. Each step was filled with large silver candlesticks, with wax-tapers in them, which going up by a regular ascent, ’till they formed themselves into a pyramid, made a most glittering and splendid blaze.—The great altars also of the other churches were illuminated most profusely, and silver pots of artificial flowers, with a large wax-taper between each, were fixed all round several of them.—Between these, were large paintings in black and white, representing the different parts of our Saviour’s passion. And, in short, all was so magnificently, so superstitiously grand, that I am persuaded several thousands of pounds would not defray the expences of this one day. Go which way you would, nothing was to be seen but illuminations within, and hurry without.—For all persons, princes and crowned heads themselves not excepted, are obliged on this day to visit seven churches or altars, in imitation, as is supposed, of our Lord’s being hurried from one tribunal to another, before he was condemned to be hung upon the cross.—I saw the queen pass by in great state to visit three of them. Velvet cushions were carried before her Majesty, and boards laid along the streets for herself and retinue to walk upon. Guards attended before and behind, and thousands of spectators stood on each side to gaze at them as they passed along. Being desirous of seeing the manner of their entrance, we got into the last church before they came. It was that of St. Domingo, where was the gold altar before mentioned, and at which her Majesty and train knelt about a quarter of an hour.—All the while, the Dominican friars sung most surprisingly sweet. But as I stood near the altar, over against the great door, I must confess my very inmost soul was struck with a secret horror, when, upon looking up, I saw over the front of the great window of the church, the heads of many hundred Jews, painted on canvas, who had been condemned by what they call the Holy Inquisition, and carried out from that church to be burnt.—Strange way this, of compelling people to come in! Such was not thy method, O meek and compassionate Lamb of God! Thou camest not to destroy mens lives, but to save them.—But bigotry is as cruel as the grave.—It knows no remorse.—From all its bitter and dire effects, good Lord deliver us!—But to return to the Queen. Having performed her devotions, she departed and went in a coach of state, I believe, directly from the church to her palace, and without doubt sufficiently fatigued: for, besides walking through the streets to the several churches, her Majesty also, and the princesses, had been engaged in waiting upon, and washing the feet of twelve poor women, in as public a manner as the king. In our walk home, we met his Majesty with his brother and two uncles, attended only with a few noblemen in black velvet, and a few guards without halberts. I suppose he was returning from his last church, and, as one may well imagine, equally fatigued with his royal consort and daughters.—When church and state thus combine to be nursing fathers and nursing mothers to superstition, is it any wonder that its credit and influence is so diffusive among the populace?—O Britain! Britain! hast thou but zeal proportionable to thy knowledge, and inward purity adequate to the simplicity of thy external worship, in what a happy and god-like situation wouldst thou be! Here I could weep again.—Again I leave you to guess the cause; and if I can send you one more letter of a like nature, before we leave this place, it is all you must expect from, my dear friend,
Your’s most assuredly in our glorious Head,
G. W.
[♦] “magnifience” replaced with “magnificence”
LETTER MXLI.
To Mr. ——.
Lisbon, April 12, 1755.
My dear Friend,
AFTER the news already sent you, I thought our Lisbon correspondence would entirely have been put a stop to; for upon returning to my lodgings, (as weary I believe as others that had been running from church to church all day) word was sent me, that our ship would certainly sail the next morning. This news, I own, was not altogether agreeable to me, because I wanted to see the conclusion of the Lent solemnities. However, I made ready; and having dispatched my private affairs the over-night, was conducted very early in the morning, by my kind host, down to Bellem, where the ship lay. We parted. The wind promised to be fair; but dying away, I very eagerly went ashore once more. But how was the scene changed! Before, all used to be noise and hurry;—now, all was hushed and shut up in the most awful and profound silence. No clock or bell had been heard since yesterday noon, and scarce a person was to be seen in the street all the way to Lisbon. About two in the afternoon we got to the place, where (I had heard some days ago) an extraordinary scene was to be exhibited. Can you guess what it was?—Perhaps not. Why then I will tell you. “It was the crucifixion of the Son of God, represented partly by dumb images, and partly by living persons, in a large church belonging to the convent of St. De Beato.” Several thousands crouded into it; some of whom, as I was told, had been waiting there from even six in the morning.—Through the kind interposition and assistance of a protestant or two, I was not only admitted into the church, but was very commodiously situated to view the whole performance. We had not waited long before the curtain was drawn up. Immediately, upon a high scaffold hung in the front with black bays, and behind with silk purple damask laced with gold, was exhibited to our view an image of the Lord Jesus at full length, crowned with thorns, and nailed on a cross between two figures of like dimensions, representing the two thieves. At a little distance on the right hand, was placed an image of the virgin Mary, in plain long ruffles, and a kind of widow-weeds. Her veil was purple silk, and she had a wire glory round her head.—At the foot of the cross lay, in a mournful pensive posture, a living man, dressed in woman’s cloaths, who personated Mary Magdalen; and not far off stood a young man, in imitation of the beloved disciple.—He was dressed in a loose green silk vesture, and bob-wig.—His eyes were fixed on the cross, and his two hands a little extended. On each side, near the front of the stage, stood two centinels in buff, with formidable caps and long beards; and directly in the front stood another yet more formidable, with a large target in his hand. We may suppose him to be the Roman centurion. To compleat the scene, from behind the purple hangings came out about twenty little purple-vested winged boys, two by two, each bearing a lighted wax-taper in his hand, and a crimson and gold cap on his head.—At their entrance upon the stage, they gently bowed their heads to the spectators, then kneeled and made obeisance, first to the image on the cross, and then to that of the virgin Mary.—When risen, they bowed to each other, and then took their respective places over-against one another, on steps assigned for them at the front of the stage. Opposite to this, at a few yards distance, stood a black friar in a pulpit hung in mourning. For a while he paused, and then, breaking silence, gradually lifted up his voice ’till it was extended to a pretty high pitch, though I think scarce high enough for so large an auditory. After he had proceeded in his discourse about a quarter of an hour, a confused noise was heard near the front great door; upon turning my head, I saw four long-bearded men, two of which carried a ladder on their shoulders, and after them followed two more with large gilt dishes in their hands, full of linen, spices, &c. These (as I imagined) were the representatives of Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea. On a signal given from the pulpit, they advanced towards the steps of the scaffold. But upon their very first attempting to mount it, at the watchful centurion’s nod, the observant soldiers made a pass at them, and presented the points of their javelins directly to their breasts. They are repulsed. Upon this a letter from Pilate is produced. The centurion reads it, shakes his head, and with looks that bespoke a forced compliance, beckons to the centinels to withdraw their arms. Leave being thus obtained, they ascend; and having paid their homage, by kneeling first to the image on the cross, and then to the virgin Mary, they retired to the back of the stage. Still the preacher continued declaiming, or rather (as was said) explaining the mournful scene. Magdalen persists in wringing her hands, and variously expressing her personated sorrow; whilst John (seemingly regardless of all besides) stood gazing on the crucified figure. By this time it was near three o’clock, and therefore proper for the scene to begin to close. The ladders are ascended, the superscription and crown of thorns taken off, long white rollers put round the arms of the image, and then the nails knocked out which fastened the hands and feet. Here Mary Magdalen looks most languishing, and John, if possible, stands more thunder-struck than before.—The orator lifts up his voice, and almost all the hearers expressed concern by weeping, beating their breasts, and smiting their cheeks.—At length the body is gently let down. Magdalen eyes it, and, gradually rising, receives the feet into her wide-spread handkerchief; whilst John (who hitherto stood motionless like a statue) as the body came nearer the ground, with an eagerness that bespoke the intense affection of a sympathizing friend, runs towards the cross, seizes the upper part of it into his clasping arms, and, with his disguised fellow-mourner, helps to bear it away. And here the play should end, was I not afraid you would be angry with me, if I did not give you an account of the last act, by telling you what became of the corpse after it was taken down. Great preparations were made for its interment. It was wrapped in linen and spices, &c. and being laid upon a bier richly hung, was afterwards carried round the church-yard in grand procession. The image of the virgin Mary was chief mourner, and John and Magdalen, with a whole troop of friars with wax-tapers in their hands, followed after. Determined to see the whole, I waited its return, and in about a quarter of an hour the corps was brought in, and deposited in an open sepulchre prepared for the purpose; but not before a priest, accompanied by several of the same order in splendid vestments, had perfumed it with incense, sung to and kneeled before it. John and Magdalen attended the obsequies; but the image of the virgin Mary was carried away and placed upon the front of the stage, in order to be kissed, adored, and worshipped by the people.—This I saw them do with the utmost eagerness and reverence. And thus ended this Good Friday’s tragi-comical, superstitious, idolatrous farce. A farce, which whilst I saw, as well as now whilst I am describing it, excited in me an high indignation.—Surely, thought I, whilst attending on such a scene of mock devotion, if ever, now is the dear Lord Jesus crucified afresh; and I could then, and even now, think of no other plea for the poor beguiled devotees, than that which suffering innocence put up himself for his enemies, when actually hanging upon the cross, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” There was but one thing wanting to raise one’s resentment to the highest pitch, and that was, for one of the soldiers to have pierced the side of the image upon the cross. This in all probability you have heard hath actually been done in other places, and with a little more art, might, I think, have been performed here. Doubtless it would have afforded the preacher as good, if not a better opportunity of working upon the passions of his auditory, than the taking down the superscription and crown of thorns, and wiping the head with a blooded cloth, and afterwards exposing it to the view of the people; all which I saw done before the body was let down.—But alas! my dear friend, how mean is that eloquence, and how entirely destitute of the demonstration of the spirit, and of a divine power, must that oratory necessarily be, that stands in need of such a train of superstitious pageantry to render it impressive!—Think you, my dear friend, that the apostle Paul used or needed any such artifices to excite the passions of the people of Galatia, amongst whom, as he himself informs us, “Jesus Christ was crucified, and evidently set forth?”—But thus it is, and thus it will be, when simplicity and spirituality are banished from our religious offices, and artifice and idolatry seated in their room.—I am well aware that the Romanists deny the charge of idolatry; but after having seen what I have seen this day, as well as at sundry other times since my arrival here, I cannot help thinking but a person must be capable of making more than metaphysical distinctions, and deal in very abstract ideas indeed, fairly to evade the charge.—If weighed in the balance of the sanctuary, I am positive the scale must turn on the protestant side.—But such a balance these poor people are not permitted to make use of! Doth not your heart bleed for them? Mine doth I am sure, and I believe would do so more and more, was I to stay longer, and see what they call their Hallelujah, and grand devotions on Easter-day.—But that scene is denied me.—The wind is fair, and I must away.—Follow me with your prayers, and believe me to be, my dear friend,
Yours most affectionately, in our common Redeemer,
G. W.
LETTER MXLII.
To Mrs. D——.
On board the Success, May 10, 1754.
My dear sister in Christ,
IT really hath given me much concern since I have been on the mighty waters, that it was not in my power to write to you more frequently when on shore. I therefore send you a few lines from the great deep, which I hope will find you magnifying the Lord, and rejoicing in God your Saviour. For his great name’s sake, I am once more going to Georgia, and after a short tour through some parts of America, I hope to see my native country, and begin to begin to ramble after poor sinners again. In our way we touched at Lisbon, which I hope hath been blessed to me, so far as to make me prize protestant liberty and simplicity more than ever. Fain would I be one of Christ’s bees, and learn to extract honey from every flower. But alas! I am a drone, and deserve to be stung out of God’s hive. But he is gracious and long suffering. O eternity! How do I long to praise my God there! We are within a few hundred miles of our earthly, but when I shall arrive at my heavenly port God only knows. Strange! that I should be kept out at sea so long. I am now near forty. Father, thy will be done! Only vouchsafe to employ me, and then——I can no more. The Redeemer is pleased to fill my soul. Help me to cry Grace! Grace! and believe me to be,
Your most assured friend, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXLIII.
To Mrs. S——.
On board the Success, May 12, 1754.
Dear Mrs. S——,
I FULLY purposed to have written to you from Lisbon, but was so taken up in seeing the ecclesiastical curiosities of the place, and was so suddenly called away, that rendered it impracticable.—However, that I may not be disappointed again, I sit down to write you a few lines, though about eight hundred miles off shore. May they find you as to spirituals, in the same situation as is our ship in a natural respect, gently, sweetly gliding towards your heavenly harbour, under a pleasant gale of divine influence. Or,
If rough and stormy be your way,
Fear not——Only to Jesus cry, and say,
Be strength proportion’d to my day.
You will find him a kind and faithful Saviour. Whom he loves, he loves to the end. He hath already delivered you out of the paw of the bear and of the lion, and he will also deliver out of the hand of every remaining Goliah. Courage, then, my dear Mrs. S——, courage. The crown is before you, and ere long Jesus will put it on your head. I hope all your houshold, as well as yourself, have this in full view. It glitters, though at this distance. O how bright and radiant! Purchased at how dear a rate! It is worth striving for. The Lord help you all to strive so as to obtain. So wishes and prays, dear Mrs. S——,
Your assured friend and servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXLIV.
To Mr. H——.
On board the Success, May 25, 1754.
My dear Mr. H——,
JUST now, through the tender mercies of a never-failing God, we saw the American shore, and are within a few miles of our desired port. The wind being contrary, we cannot enter it; I will therefore employ a few minutes in answering your last kind letter. It was full of christian love, and bespoke a heart deeply engaged for the success of the gospel in Gloucestershire. I hope it runs and is glorified, and trust ere now you find that the blessed Redeemer stands in no need of such a wretch as I am. Fear not, our Lord will never want instruments to carry on his work.—A heavenly fire is lighted in England, which men and devils shall never be able to extinguish. I pray for its spreading night and day; receive this as a token that none of you are forgotten by me before the Lord. I believe we have fared the better for your prayers. Our passage hath been pleasant, and assure yourselves, I shall make all possible dispatch in order to return unto you. O that it may be in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ. Pray remember me to Mr. R—— C——, to your wife, and all those dear souls, amongst whom, when last in Gloucestershire, God gave us a heaven upon earth. O for a heaven in heaven! Blessed be God, that port is in view. From thence we shall never put to sea any more. Adieu. I cannot enlarge. Continue to pray for me, as a poor travelling pilgrim, but, for Christ’s sake,
Yours most affectionately,
G. W.
LETTER MXLV.
To Mr. S——.
Beaufort, Port-Royal Island, South-Carolina, May 26, 1754.
My dear Friend,
THROUGH the divine goodness, we are just now sailing into our harbour, after having been six weeks from Lisbon.—Providentially a ship goes out to-morrow for Cowes; I cannot omit the opportunity of sending you a few friendly lines. They come from a friend, and leave him leaning on Him who hath promised never to forsake those that put their trust in him. Our passage hath been very easy, only our entrance into the harbour (like our last struggle before we enter heaven) hath been somewhat troublesome. May the Lord of all Lords give you, and yours, and all my never to be forgotten Yorkshire friends, an abundant entrance there! I must not think of you too much; parting seasons would come too fresh in my mind.—O blessed season, when we shall part no more! Adieu, adieu. I hope to write soon again. My orphan-charge are all quite well, and I hope in a few days to see them safe at Georgia. I know whose company would be acceptable to all there; but,—Father thy will be done! I can no more. Accept this as a token of love unfeigned, from, my dear friend,
Yours for ever and ever, in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXLVI.
Charles-Town, July 10, 1754.
Dear Mrs. C——,
SINCE I left Bethesda, I have been out two nights by land, and one by water, and though wearied, am preserved in as good health as can in any wise be expected. To-morrow or Monday, I expect to embark again for New-York. The prospect of being ere long at the new Jerusalem, makes all things easy. I thank you for your kind letter, and for regarding my tears. They speak better than words. Jesus knows they were shed for him, and for the welfare of that institution which has lain so many years upon my poor heart. Have a little patience, and you will find more and more, that your coming over the water was of God. I wish it was in my power to make every thing more than agreeable; our common Lord I trust will do it himself. This is my heart’s desire, and shall be my constant prayer night and day. You will see what I have sent by this opportunity. Whatever of the linen or woollen stuff you would have made up for the children, may be sent by those who bring this; and what you want done in this way, only let Mrs. B—— have a line, and orders will be readily executed. Thus God raises up friends. The Lord be with you all. Help me to praise him, and continue to pray for, dear Mrs. C——,
Your unworthy friend, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXLVII.
To Mr. H——.
Charles-Town, July 12, 1754.
Very dear Sir,
THOUGH I hear that Captain Thompson does not sail, these three weeks, yet as I am bound for the northward, I cannot help leaving a few grateful lines behind me. May they find you leaning on the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus, and determined through his strength steadily to pursue that one thing needful, which shall never be taken from you! My prayers are continually ascending in your behalf;—they are your due; I owe you, and shall owe you much love as long as I live. By this I send you most grateful acknowledgments for all favours,—they are many, but all noted in my Master’s book. How are my obligations to love and serve him increased! He gave us a pleasant passage, and I trust hath blessed my ministry to some souls since my arrival, and also hath given me to leave my orphan-charge in comfortable circumstances; the family now consists of above an hundred. He that fed the multitude in the wilderness, can and will feed the orphans in Georgia. Your letters I delivered, and I suppose you will receive proper answers.—But I find Mr. H—— doth not trade at Lisbon, and Mr. H——m is about to leave off business and retire. Happy they who can do this, and at the same time that they retire from the world, retire into God. His presence is all in all. That you may be blessed with a plentiful portion of it here, and be admitted to an infinitely greater participation of it hereafter, is the earnest prayer of, very dear Sir,
Your most obliged friend, and ready servant, for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MXLVIII.
To Mr. C—— W——.
On board the Deborah, July 20, 1754.
My dear Friend,
I DO not forget my promise, though hurrying from place to place, and settling my orphan-charge, hath almost put it out of my power to perform it: however, I am now once more on the great deep in my way to New-York; accept a few lines as a token that you are not forgotten by me. I wrote to you from Lisbon. From thence we had a pleasant passage to Carolina, and since that I found and left my orphan family comfortably settled at Georgia. The colony, as well as Bethesda, is now in a thriving situation. Black and white persons I have now a hundred and six to provide for. The God whom I desire to serve, will enable me to do it for his great name’s sake. At Charles-Town, and in other parts of Carolina, my poor labours have met with the usual acceptance, and I have reason to hope a clergyman hath been brought under very serious impressions. Not unto me, O Lord, not unto me, but unto thy free grace be all the glory! What will befal me at the northward, I know not; this I know, that Jesus Christ will suffer nothing to pluck me out of his hands. My health is wonderfully preserved.—My wonted vomitings have left me, and though I ride whole nights, and have been frequently exposed to great thunders, violent lightnings, and heavy rains, yet I am rather better than usual, and as far as I can judge, am not yet to die. O that I may at length learn to begin to live. I am ashamed of my sloth and lukewarmness, and long to be on the stretch for God. I hope this will find you thus employed. My cordial love awaits your whole self, your brother, Mr. B——, and in short all the followers of the blessed Lamb of God. Though unworthy of their notice, I earnestly intreat a continued interest in their prayers, as being, my very dear Sir,
Their and your affectionate friend, and ready servant in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MXLIX.
To Mr. D——.
On board the Deborah, July 20, 1754.
My very dear Mr. D——,
THIS leaves me on my way towards New-York. Accept this as a token, that change of climate doth not cause a change of affection. No, you and my other dear Edinburgh friends are still upon my heart, and I trust will remain fixed there, till we meet to join the singing choir that is about the throne. I hope you have an earnest and anticipation of this, every Monday evening. I hope you enjoy a feeling possession of your God, every day and every hour. This will make the most barren wilderness to smile, and support you under the most distressing circumstances. It is this that supports me by land and by water. Without it, what could such a poor, weak, faint-hearted pilgrim do? Verily I should faint.—But as yet I cannot die. In spite of thunder, lightning, rain, and heat, God is pleased to hold my soul in life, and to let me see his glorious work prosper in my unworthy hands. Georgia and Bethesda I found in a thriving way. My family consists of a hundred and six, and will prove I trust of more extensive use every day. About six weeks I staid at Carolina and Georgia. One is likely to be settled as minister in Charles-Town. There my poor labours have met with usual acceptance, and I live in hopes of some gracious gales to the northward. Perhaps about Christmas, or early in the spring, I may see my native country again.—O may I return grown in grace, and in the knowledge of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ! But I am a dwarf. Pray, pray for me. Accept unfeigned thanks for all favours, remember me in the kindest manner to all inquiring friends, and believe me to be, my very dear Sir,
Yours, &c. in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER ML.
To Mr. S——.
New-York, July 27, 1754.
My very dear and steady Friend,
HERE will I set up my Ebenezer—for hitherto the Lord hath helped me. Through his divine goodness, I left Georgia and Bethesda in growing circumstances, and am come once more to pay a short visit to the northward. O that the Redeemer may make it a sweet one! Some time next month, perhaps I may have the pleasure of seeing you and yours, and my other dear Boston friends. As I am entirely unprovided with travelling furniture, I have thoughts of coming as far as Rhode-island by water. God willing, you shall have timely notice, or it may be, I may come upon you unawares. Strange! that I should be in this dying world till now. What changes have I seen! What changes must I expect to see before my final departure, if the Redeemer is pleased to lengthen out this span of life. Welcome, welcome, my Lord and my God, whatever cup thou shalt see meet to put into my hands! Only sweeten it with thy love, and then, though bitter in itself, it cannot but be salutary. Alas! how little do we know of ourselves, till we are tried, and how hard doth the old man die! Well! blessed be God, die he shall. Jesus hath given him his deadly blow, and at the best he only lives a dying life. Thanks be to God for such a Saviour! O for a thousand tongues to shew forth his praise! Lord Jesus, cloath me with humility, that I may every day know more and more the honour conferred upon me in being made a poor pilgrim for thee! Keep me travelling, keep me working, or at least beginning to begin to work for thee till I die! But whither am I going? Excuse me, my dear Sir.—I am writing to a beloved Gaius. God bless you and yours.—My most cordial respects await all enquiring friends.—Methinks they are dearer than ever to, my very dear Sir,
Yours, &c. in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MLI.
To Mr. P——.
New-York, July 28, 1754.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
ONCE more, the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus hath brought me hither, and last night gave me an opportunity of recommending his dying love. When I ascended the pulpit, and found your place empty, I was somewhat affected; but I have met with so many changes in the church as well as the world, that it is time for me to begin to learn to be surprized at nothing. Some time next month, I hope to come as far as Boston. I know, my dear Sir, that you will pray, it may be in the fulness of the blessing of the gospel of Christ. What is to befall me I know not; Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit! Fain would I be as clay in thy hands. Lord Jesus, when shall it once be? But I am a stubborn, ill and hell-deserving creature. Less than the least of all, shall be my motto still. Amazing,—that the Redeemer should suffer such a wretch to speak or travel for him. Surely his name and nature is Love. O that I could but begin to begin to love him! My obligations increase daily. In England the word of the Lord runs and is glorified indeed. Georgia and Bethesda I left in growing circumstances. The orphan-family now consists of one hundred and six, black and white. A young man that hath been a student there, succeeds Mr. S—— of Charles-Town. O that the Redeemer may provide for the dear New-York people! The residue of the spirit is in his hands. Lord Jesus, make their extremity thy opportunity to help and relieve them! But I shall weary you, and detain you too long from more important work. May the great head of divine influence bless you and yours, and all your present flock! Some of them I know. If you should see dear Mr. P—— or F——, be so good as to remember me to them, in the most respectful manner.—I intreat their prayers for a poor but willing pilgrim, and am, reverend and very dear Sir,
Your most affectionate, obliged, though unworthy brother and servant in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLII.
To Mr. S.——.
New-York, July 28, 1754.
My very dear Sir,
HERE our Lord brought me two days ago, and last night I had an opportunity of preaching on his dying, living, ascending, and interceding love, to a large and attentive auditory. Next week I purpose going to Philadelphia, and then shall come back again here in my way to Boston. Whether I shall then return to Bethesda, or embark for England, is uncertain.—I fear matters will not be settled at the orphan-house, unless I go once more; I have put some upon their trial, and shall want to see how they behave. During my passage from Charles-Town, I left a few lines for you; I thought to have written an account of Bethesda for the press, but could by no means get freedom. God’s time is the best. I owe for three of the negroes who were lately bought, but hope to be enabled to pay for them at my return from the northward. My God can, and will supply all my wants, according to his riches in Jesus. Glory be to his great name, he hath now taught me a little to be alone. His presence keeps me company, and I find it sweet to run about for him. I find the door all along the continent is as open as ever, and the way seems clearing up for the neighbouring islands. What a pity is it, that we can only be at one place at once, for the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. Had I a good private hand, I could send you the account of my family, &c. but perhaps I may deliver it to you myself. Lord Jesus, direct my goings in thy way! I owe you much, yea very much love; but a pepper-corn of acknowledgment, and my poor prayers, is all the payment that I fear will be made by, my very dear Sir,
Your worthless, though most obliged, affectionate, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MLIII.
To Mr. G——.
New-York, July 30, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
SHALL we once more see each other in the flesh? I hope so.—To-morrow, God willing, I preach at Newark; on Wednesday, two in the afternoon, at New-Brunswick; and hope to reach Trent-Town that night. Could you not meet me there quietly, that we might spend one evening together? You must bring a chair;—I have no horse, and will then once more venture your throwing me down. Mr. V—— passes me from hence to Brunswick, and Mr. S—— to Trent-Town. If you cannot come, I will get Mr. S—— to carry me on till we meet you. O that the Lord Jesus may smile on my feeble labours. Here I trust he hath given us a blessing. Yesterday I preached thrice: this morning I feel it. Welcome weariness for Jesus! O how little can I do for him! I blush and am confounded. Pray heartily for me; and if business will permit, come away to, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLIV.
To Mr. R——.
Philadelphia, August 7, 1754.
My dear Mr. R——,
I ONCE thought to write you a long letter, but it pleased God to cut off my strength in my journey. Yesterday I was taken with a violent cholera morbus, and hoped ere now to have been where the inhabitants shall no more say, “I am sick.” But I am brought back again. May it be in order to bring some more precious souls to the ever-blessed Jesus! This is all my desire. O that God should ever make use of such a worthless creature as I am! But his grace is free, he yet blesses me, and rather more than ever. My poor labours, seem to be owned here, as well as at New-York. I received the sacrament at church on Sunday, and have preached in the academy; but I find Mr. Tennent’s house abundantly more commodious. I fear it will be impossible for me to come your way. This is the believer’s comfort, all God’s people shall meet in heaven. There I hope to see you and yours. Accept hearty love, and fail not to pray for, my dear Mr. R——,
Yours most affectionately,
G. W.
LETTER MLV.
To Mr. V——.
Philadelphia, August 15, 1754.
My very dear Mr. V——,
ONCE more, after having my cables out ready (as I thought) to cast anchor within the port, I am constrained to put out to sea again. My late sickness, though violent, hath not been unto death. O that it may be to the glory of God! With some difficulty I can preach once a-day. Congregations rather increase than decrease; and many, O strange! are desirous of my making a longer stay. But the time is fixed for next Tuesday, and all the following days till Sunday, are to be employed between this and New-Brunswick. There I am informed some execution was done. Whilst I live, Lord Jesus, grant I may not live in vain. I could enlarge, but really am so faint, that I have been obliged to stop, and can now with difficulty subscribe myself, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLVI.
To Mr. E——.
Philadelphia, August 17, 1754.
My dear Mr. E——,
I HOPE this will find you fairly thrust out into the highways and hedges, and under a divine commission to compel many poor sinners to come in. Fear not. Jesus will take care of body and soul.
Fix on his work thy stedfast eye,
So shall thy work be done.
Was you on this side the water, you would find work enough. Here’s a glorious range in the American woods. It is pleasant hunting for sinners. Thousands flock daily to hear the word preached. Let us pray for each other. When we meet, we may talk more together. In the mean while, I recommend you to the unerring guidance and protection of the great Shepherd and Bishop of souls, as being, for his great name’s sake, my dear friend,
Yours affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLVII.
To Mrs. S——.
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,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MLIX.
To Mr. S——.
Newark, September 27, 1754.
My very dear Sir,
THE searcher of hearts only knows what struggles and tossings your last letter, as well as that of dear Mr. W——, hath occasioned in my breast. Affection, intense affection cries aloud, “Away to New-England, to dear New-England directly.” Providence, and the circumstances of the Southern provinces, point directly towards Virginia and the Orphan-house. In the former, I am told, the door is opening in earnest; and the business of the latter requires my presence this Winter. These being dispatched, my mind will be disburdened, and my heart free for a large range in New-England. For this, I hereby give you and my dear never to be forgotten friends, a promissory note of hand. Deo volente, I will perform it, before I leave America. I think I can take shipping from Boston for England. It will not do to go thence to the West-Indies, because I cannot go without a companion, and that companion (if possible) is to be Captain G——. These are my present thoughts. Have a little patience, and by delaying for a short time, I shall enjoy more of my dear friends company: this is what I want to be filled with. In the mean while, my enemies may be preparing their artillery. I have nothing but a sling and a stone. I trust that my determination is agreeable to the mind of Jesus. Many of his true ministers have been consulted, earnest prayers have been made, and I humbly hope the event will be glorious. What a pity is it that we can have but one body and one soul to glorify the blessed Redeemer with! Lord, accept my two worthless mites, and help me at length to begin to begin to do something for thy great name’s sake! The worthy President, who was to be my companion to Boston, will let you know how affairs go. Blessed be God, the shout of a king hath been amongst us. I am extremely well pleased with the synod and commencement. O that I had wings! then would I fly, if it was only just to have a sight of you and yours, and my dear and worthy friends.—But—I must say no more. Pray, pray earnestly, my dear friend, for him, who is less than the least of all, indeed and indeed, but
Yours most affectionately, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MLX.
To Lady H——n.
Elizabeth-Town (New-Jersey),
September 30, 1754.
Ever-honoured Madam,
A LITTLE before I had the favour of your Ladyship’s kind letter, I had written from New-York. Since which time, I trust, through the efficacy of divine grace, many new creatures have been formed for God. Every where a divine power accompanies the word, prejudices have been removed, and a more effectual door opened than ever for preaching the everlasting gospel. I am now at Governor B——’s, who sends your Ladyship the most cordial respects. His outward man decays, but his inward man seems to be renewed day by day. I think he ripens for heaven apace. This last week was the New-Jersey commencement, at which the President and Trustees were pleased to present me with the degree of A.M. The synod succeeded.—But such a number of simple hearted, united ministers, I never saw before. I preached to them several times, and the great Master of assemblies was in the midst of us. To-morrow, God willing, I shall set out with the worthy President for New-England, and expect to return back to the Orphan house through Virginia, where the gospel I trust will have free course and be glorified. This will be about a two thousand mile circuit; but the Redeemer’s strength will be more than sufficient. Once this Summer, I thought my discharge was come; but it seems the shattered bark must put out to sea again. Father, thy will be done! I hope this will find your Ladyship safe at your beloved Clifton, where you may enjoy yourself and God, without the interruptions of a noisy town. This is indeed heaven upon earth. That you and yours may enjoy it more and more every day, is and shall be the earnest prayer of, ever-honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship’s most obliged, dutiful, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MLXI.
To Mr. Z——.
Elizabeth-Town (New-Jersey),
September 30, 1754.
Very dear and honoured Sir,
JUST two months ago, I arrived at New-York from South-Carolina, and ever since have been endeavouring to labour in my poor way for the ever-loving, ever-lovely Jesus. Many things have concurred, to prove that my coming at this time was of God. Sinners have been awakened, and saints quickened, and enemies made to be at peace with me. Grace! grace! In general, I have been enabled to travel and preach twice a day. Every where the door hath been opened wider than ever. At Philadelphia, I had a most comfortable evening with Mr. B—— and his collegues; and at the New-Jersey commencement I was much refreshed with the company of a whole synod of ministers, that, I believe, do indeed love the Redeemer in sincerity. I write this from Governor B——’s, who is indeed singularly good, and whose latter end greatly increases as to spirituals. O that this may be my happy lot! About a month ago, I thought my great change was coming, but I soon was sent back to sea again. To-morrow I steer for New-England, and from thence purpose returning to the Orphan-house through Virginia, where the door for preaching I hear is opening wide. Sometimes I have thoughts of going to the West-Indies, but fear it will not be practicable, before I see England. Lord Jesus, direct and strengthen, and then send me where thou pleasest! I beg, most earnestly beg the continuance of your prayers, and am, very dear, honoured Sir,
Your most dutiful, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MLXII.
To Mr. H——.
Boston, October 13, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
IT hath given me concern, that I have not been able to write one letter to Georgia, since my arrival at New-York. But it was impracticable. Sickness, travelling, and preaching prevented me. However, I must snatch a few minutes now. They leave me at Boston, where as well as in other places, the word hath run and been glorified, and people rather more eager to hear than ever. Lord, what am I? O that I could sink into nothing before thee! After staying a short time, I purpose, God willing, to go through Connecticut to New-York, and so on by land to Georgia. Blessed be God, that a Governor is at length nominated. I wish you joy of your new honour, which I find, by this week’s post, is conferred upon you. May the King of kings enable you to discharge your trust, as becomes a good patriot, subject, and christian! The Lord help us to look to the rock whence we have been hewn. I wish I knew when the Governor intends being at Georgia, I would willingly be there to pay my respects to him. But this must be left to divine Providence. If we acknowledge God in all our ways, he hath promised to direct our paths. O my dear old friend and first fellow-traveller, my heart is engaged for your temporal and eternal welfare. You have now, I think, a call to retire from business, and to give up your time to the public. May the Lord of all lords direct, assist, and bless you and yours more and more. I hope Mrs. H—— is well: I have much to say when we meet. God deals most bountifully with me. Enemies are made to be at peace, and friends are every where hearty. Remember me in the kindest manner to all with you, and continue to pray for
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLXIII.
To Mr. V——.
Boston, October 14, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
SURELY my coming here was of God. At Rhode-Island I preached five times. People convened immediately, and flocked to hear more eagerly than ever. The same scene opens at Boston. Thousands waited for, and thousands attended on the word preached. At the Old North, at seven in the morning, we generally have three thousand hearers, and many cannot come in. Convictions I hear do fasten, and many souls are comforted. Doctor S—— hath engaged me once to preach his lecture. The polite, I hear, are taken, and opposition falls. What art thou, O mountain? before our great Zerubbabel thou shalt become a plain. I preach at the Old and the New North. Mr. P—— and Dr. S—— continue to pray for me. A Governor for Georgia being nominated, determines my way thither. O that I may always follow God, even a God in Christ! This week I set out for Mr. S——’s. The door opens wider and wider. Pray tell Mr. H——, that I left his horse a little lame at Long-Island, with one who is called in contempt Saint Dick. All hail such reproach! I could enlarge, but must away. Adieu. My hearty love awaits your whole self, and all who are so kind as to enquire after the chief of sinners, but for Christ’s sake, my very dear friend,
Yours, &c. in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MLXIV.
To Dr. S——.
Boston, October 14, 1754.
My very dear Doctor,
SHALL I promise and not perform? God forbid.—Accept, therefore, a few lines of grateful love. They bring you good news. At Rhode-Island and this place, souls fly to the gospel like doves to the windows. A divine power hath hitherto accompanied the word, and opposition seems to fall daily. Next week I purpose to go Eastward, and then I intend making as much haste as can be back to you. A Governor, I find, is appointed for Georgia, and my friend H—— made Secretary. Those that honour God, he will honour. I have preached in four large meeting-houses, and the prospect of doing good is very promising. I was received with an excess of joy. Lord, what am I? Give me humility, for thy mercy’s sake! Adieu. Remember me to all enquiring friends, and believe me to be, my dear Sir,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MLXV.
To Mr. S——.
Portsmouth (New-Hampshire), October 24, 1754.
My very dear Sir,
ABOUT a month ago I wrote you a few lines from the New-Jersies. Since that I am advanced about three hundred miles further northward. But what have I seen? Dagon falling every where before the ark; enemies silenced, or made to own the finger of God; and the friends of Jesus triumphing in his glorious conquest. At Boston a most lovely scene hath opened. In the morning before seven o’clock, though the meeting-houses will hold about four thousand, yet many were obliged to go away, and I was helped in through the window. The prospect is most promising indeed. In the country a like scene opens; I am enabled to preach always twice, and sometimes thrice a day. Thousands flock to hear, and Jesus manifests forth his glory. I know you will rejoice, and join in crying Grace! grace! I am now come to the end of my northward line, and in a day or two purpose to turn back, in order to preach all the way to Georgia. It is about a sixteen hundred miles journey. Jesus is able to carry me through. Into his almighty and all-gracious hands I commend my spirit. I hope to write to you in the way. Gladly would I embark now for England, but I shall leave my American business but half done, if I come over now. Lord, help me! How little can I do for thee! And the little I can do, alas! with what a mixture of corruption and infirmities is it attended. Behold I am vile. Increase my obligations, my very dear Sir, by continuing to pray for
Yours most affectionately in our common Lord,
G. W.
LETTER MLXVI.
To Mr. S——.
Portsmouth, October 25, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
YOUR letter, as well as another from Rhode-Island, helped to lay me low before him, who delights to work by the meanest instrument. Still the Lord of all lords stoops to accompany my feeble labours with his divine presence. At Salem we were favoured with a sweet and divine influence. Sunday was a high day at Ipswich; twice I preached for Mr. R——, and once for Mr. W——. Hundreds were without the doors. On Monday at Newbury the like scene opened twice. Here Mr. S—— met me, and on Tuesday morning we had a blessed season. Too many came to meet and bring me into Portsmouth, where I preached on Tuesday evening, also twice the next day, and just now I have taken my leave. The blessed Spirit vouchsafed to be with us each time. Yesterday I preached at York and Kittery: at both places the Redeemer manifested forth his glory. In the evening I waited on general P——, who, with his Lady, were very glad to see me. I am now going to Greenland and Durham, and to-morrow shall preach at Exeter. The sabbath is to be kept at Newbury. Monday I am to preach thrice,—at Rowley, Byfield, and Ipswich; Tuesday, at Cape Ann, and Wednesday night or Thursday morning at Boston, if the prisoner is to die, though I want another week in these parts. Excuse great haste; I must away. Pray write a line by next ship to London. Salute all friends, and continue to pray for, very dear Sir,
Yours in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MLXVII.
To Mr. S——.
Rhode-Island, November 22, 1754.
My very dear Friend,
YESTERDAY as I was riding along, I felt a love for you, which only friends experience, and was determined to write to you immediately. In the evening my faithful Gaius Mr. S—— brought your kind letter, which I now take the first opportunity of answering. But what shall I say? What you have heard is more than true. A more effectual door I never saw opened, than lately at Boston, and indeed in every place where I have been in New-England; not a hundredth part can well be told you. With great difficulty I am got to this place, where people, as I am informed, are athirst to hear the word of God. I shall therefore stay, God willing, till Monday, and then set forward to Connecticut in my way to New-York, which I hope to reach in about a fortnight. O that you may see me grown in grace, and humbled under a sense of those amazing mercies which I have received during this expedition! It seems to me to be the most important one I was ever employed in. Much, yea very much have I to tell you when we meet. I wish for the season, and entreat you in the mean while not to forget me at his throne, who alone can uphold me with his right hand. O what a friend is Jesus! A friend that sticks closer than a brother. He is indeed the pilgrim’s stay and staff; few choose to try him in such a station. This be my happy lot! I write this at Mr. C——’s who hath lately buried his wife. What a changing world! Thanks be to God for an unchangeable Christ! To his most tender and never-failing mercy, do I most earnestly commend both you and yours, and hoping ere long to see you, and rejoice together in our common Lord, I subscribe myself, very dear Mr. S——,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
LETTER MLXVIII.
To the Reverend Mr. G——.
Rhode-Island, November 25, 1754.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
IS it true that your father-in-law and your dear yoke-fellow are dead? I sympathize with you from my inmost soul. At the same time as I rejoice on their account, who are happily arrived,
Where pain and sin and sorrow cease,
And all is calm and joy and peace.
Surely your turn and mine will come ere long. In the mean while, may I be doing something for my God! This shews you where I am at present, going towards Georgia from Boston, where my reception hath been far superior to that fourteen years ago. In that and other places in New-England, I have been enabled to preach near a hundred times since the beginning of October, and thanks be to God, we scarce had so much as one dry meeting. Not a hundredth part can be told you. In Philadelphia, New-Jersies, and at New-York also, the great Redeemer caused his word to run and be glorified. I am now returning through those and the other Southward provinces again, in my way to Georgia, where I expect to see our new Governor. Blessed be God, Bethesda is in growing circumstances, and, I trust, will more and more answer the end of its institution. I was exceedingly delighted at New-Jersey commencement. Surely that college is of God. The worthy president (Mr. Burr) intends to correspond with you. O that I could do it oftener: but it is impracticable. Travelling, and preaching always twice, and frequently thrice, engrosseth almost all my time. However, neither you nor any of my dear Glasgow friends, are forgotten by me. No, no: they are engraven upon the very tables of my heart. O that the Lord of all lords, whose mercy endureth for ever, may give you hearts to remember poor sinful, ill, and hell-deserving me! Fain would I continue a pilgrim for life.
Christ’s presence doth my pains beguile,
And make each wilderness to smile.
I have a fourteen hundred miles ride before me; but nil desperandum, Christo duce, auspice Christo. When I have seen Governor D——, I hope to write to dear Mr. M——. How is my dear Gaius, S——, &c.? But I must not begin to mention names. Affection rises, and I shall be too eager to see them. Lord Jesus, hasten that blessed time, when we shall together see and enjoy thee for ever in glory! To this comforting and never-failing Jesus, do I most heartily commit you, as being, reverend and very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MLXIX.
To Mrs. C——.
Bohemia (Maryland). December 27, 1754.
Dear Madam,
I HAVE just now taken leave of the northern provinces, where I have been travelling and preaching for near these five months. I suppose in all, I may have rode near two thousand miles, and preached about two hundred and thirty times; but to how many thousand souls cannot well be told. O what days of the Son of man have I seen! God be merciful to me an ungrateful sinner! I am now forty years of age, and would business permit, would gladly spend the day in retirement and deep humiliation before that Jesus for whom I have done so little, notwithstanding he hath done and suffered so much for me. Well! to-morrow, O blessed Jesus, through thy divine assistance, will I begin, and travel for thee again! Lord, is the call to Virginia? Who knows but an infinitely condescending God may improve me there! About February I hope to reach Georgia, and at Spring to embark for England. There, dear Madam, I expect to see you once more in this land of the dying. If not, ere long I shall meet you in the land of the living indeed, and thank you before men and angels, for all favours conferred on, Madam,
Your most obliged and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MLXX.
To Mr. O——.
Bohemia, December 27, 1754.
Very dear Sir,
HOW condescending is true Friendship! And how does love, founded upon the love of God, like its blessed Author, delight to stoop to its beloved object! Your kind letter, which I received last week from worthy Governor B——, is a proof of this. An affection, a reciprocal affection something like your own, would have constrained me to answer it sooner, but travelling and preaching (my old excuse) have prevented me. At length I am got into Maryland, and into a family, out of which, I trust, five have been born of God. Gladly would I spend this whole day in deep humiliation and prayer: for I am now forty years of age. Fy upon me, fy upon me. Alas! how little have I done for Jesus! O that my head was water! O that my eyes were fountains of tears! What mercies, what infinite mercies have I received! What poor returns have I made! Behold, I am vile! Am not I treating you like a friend, even like a Boston friend, my dear Sir? Yes, I am; and since you commanded me, I will. Your letter bespeaks you to be worthy of that sacred name, and to be acquainted with that which few, very few know any thing about; I mean the delicacies of true disinterested friendship. This is a secret that none but beloved disciples are let into. May you always remain in the number of these, and when you are leaning on that bosom, where all that is lovely centers, may you have a heart to remember one who is called to travel, whilst you are acting in another sphere for God! Blessed be his name, heaven is at the end of the journey. Happy Mrs. L——! she hath had a speedy translation. May my latter end be like hers! How ought such events to teach us to converse when together, that if we should be called before the next intended meeting, we might have no trifling conversation to reflect upon. To-morrow, God willing, I move again. Ere long my last remove will come; a remove into endless bliss, where with you and all the redeemed of the Lord, I trust you will see, very dear Sir,
Your most obliged, affectionate friend, and ready servant for Christ’s sake,
G. W.
LETTER MLXXI.
To Mr. R——.
Virginia, January 17, 1755.
I AM just now on the borders of North-Carolina, and after preaching to-morrow in a neighbouring church, I purpose to take my leave of Virginia. Had I not been detained so long at the northward, what a wide and effectual door might have been opened.—Here, as well as elsewhere, rich and poor flock to hear the everlasting gospel. Many have come forty or fifty miles, and a spirit of conviction and consolation seemed to go through all the assemblies. One Colonel R——, a person of distinction, opened one church for me, invited me to his house, and introduced me himself to the reading desk. As I was riding in his chariot, he informed me of his intention to see Boston next Summer. If my friends would be so good as to mention my name, and shew him some respect when he comes amongst you, it would add to my obligations. Blessed be God, I see a vast alteration for the better. O for more time, and if possible for more souls and bodies! Lord Jesus, twenty times ten thousand are too few for thee, and yet (O amazing love) thou art willing to accept of only two mites! These, I trust, you, my very dear Sir, have put into his sacred treasury. O that the trifling thing called honour, may never, so much as for a single moment, draw you from your God! I hope Colonel P—— stands to his colours. Then I live, if my dear friends stand fast in the Lord. My most cordial respects and tender love await them all. I doubt not of your improving Mrs. L——’s sudden dissolution; another call to be always ready. That this may be the happy lot of you and yours, is and shall be the earnest prayer of, very dear Sir,
Yours most affectionately in our glorious Head,
G. W.
LETTER MLXXII.
To Mr. P——.
Virginia, January 17, 1755.
Reverend and very dear Sir,
THOUGH at this distance of time and place, yet I do not forget our solemn and mournful parting. Blessed be God, there is a time coming, when these cutting trials will be over. I long, I long for it, and yet when fresh doors of usefulness are opening, I am content to stay below. This I trust is the case at present in Virginia. The prospect is promising indeed. People have flocked from all parts to hear the word, and arrows of conviction have fled, and I believe stuck fast. Seed sown several years ago, hath sprung up and brought forth fruit. Doth not the Lord of the harvest by this say, “Go forward.” Do, my dear Sir, help me by your prayers; I want to have my tardy pace quickened. I am now forty years old. Surely it is high time to awake out of sleep. I doubt not but this will find you and yours all alive for Jesus. Being straitened for time, I must beg you to remember me in the most tender manner to all dear, very dear friends as they come in your way, and accept the same for your whole self, from, reverend and very dear Sir,
Your most affectionate, obliged friend, brother, and servant in our common Lord,
G. W.