O for a strong, a lasting faith! To credit what the Almighty saith!
Now the language of your soul should be, "how holy ought I to be in all manner of conversation and godliness." Now, dear Sir, let me entreat you to keep from trimming, or so much as attempting to reconcile two irreconcilable differences, God and the world, Christ and Belial. You know me too well to suppose I want you to turn cynic. No, live a social life. But then, dear Sir, beg of the Lord Jesus to free you from the love of the world; thence, thence arises that fear of man which now so shackles and disturbs your soul. Dare, dear Sir, to be singularly good. If Christ be your Saviour, make him a present of your pretty character. Honour him, and he will honour you. He indulges you much, and gently leads you on. Let the same love constrain you, dear Sir, to press forwards, and never rest till you can give up children, name, life, and all into his hands who gave his precious blood for you. I could enlarge, but am called away. I make no apology for this; you say you are my friend.—Accept this, dear Sir, as a token of my believing you sincere in that profession, from
Yours most affectionately in Christ Jesus, G. W.
LETTER DCLXX. To Lady H.
Honoured Madam, London, August 22, 1748.
EVER since the reading your Ladyship's condescending letter, my soul (as indeed through grace it was in a degree before) has been overpowered with his presence, who is All in All. When your Ladyship stiled me "your friend," I was amazed at your condescension. But when I thought that Jesus was my friend, it quite overcame me, and made me to lie prostrate before him, crying, Why me, why me? I just now rose from the ground, after praying the Lord of all Lords to water your soul, honoured madam, every moment. As there seems to be a door opening for the nobility to hear the gospel, I will defer my journey till Thursday, and, God willing, preach at your Ladyship's on Tuesday. In the mean
