- dence points out the way, the language of my heart is, "Lo
I come."—I wrote to brother HGod, my soul springs with fresh desires to hunt after poor straying sheep, which Jesus has purchased with his dear heart's blood.—O that I may begin now to do something for him, who hath done and suffered so much for me! But I can no more.—I am lost, I am quite overcome when I think of this.—Lord, I believe and worship!—Pray remember me to all most tenderly.—Remember me before the Lord as the chief of sinners, but, my very dear brother,
J and A lately, and since have received their kind letters.—I have lately been in seven counties in Maryland, and ere long think to preach in as many in this province.—There is a sweet stirring among the dry bones.—I have a thousand tender things to say, but time will not permit.—Well, my dear dear man, heaven is at hand;—there we shall have talk enough.—O let us take as many souls with us to that blessed place as we can.—Blessed beEver, ever yours, G. W.
LETTER DLXXVIII. To a friend in London.
My dear Brother, Bethesda, Dec. 24, 1746.
I Thank you heartily for your very kind letter, which I now snatch a few moments to answer. The account you gave of things, made me mourn that they were in so bad a situation, and at the same time I could not help rejoicing they were no worse: You and all that attended on my preaching, and had opportunities to converse with me privately, cannot be ignorant how many hints I gave of what has happened. It might have been foreseen and spoken of without a spirit of prophecy, and consequently did not so much surprise me when I found it came to pass; but I trust, the storm is now blown over, and that the little flock will enjoy a sweet calm. O that your eyes may be looking towards and waiting on the blessed Jesus: from him alone can come your salvation, he will be better to you than a thousand Whitefields.—I am afraid you are too desirous of having me with you; and indeed I long to see you and my other dear christian friends, but America seems to be