Emmanuel add daily to the number of them! We have golden seasons here. Poor Mr. H was quite revived with your Ladyship's letter. He is under the cross indeed. I am ashamed to think how little I do or suffer for Jesus Christ. Next Saturday I am thirty-five years old; fy upon me, fy upon me! I beg the continuance of your Ladyship's prayers, that I may now begin in earnest to glorify my blessed Master. Nothing else can satisfy, honoured Madam,
Your Ladyship's most dutiful, obliged, and ready servant for Christ's sake, G. W.
LETTER DCCXCVI. To the Old Mrs. B.
Dear Madam, London, Dec. 14, 1749.
IF this finds you in the land of the living, or rather this land of the dying, it comes to assure you that your dear letter and the other letters received from your dear family, gave me great satisfaction. Blessed be God, even the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, for wounding and healing. This is his way. He wounds, in order to heal, and in the midst of judgment remembers mercy. Surely he is good in holding your soul in life, and being so much a staff to you in your old age. He has been a promise-keeping God. He has not forsaken you when grey-headed, and when your natural strength must necessarily begin to fail you. Though it is cruel to hope you will be kept out of heaven so long, yet who knows, but I may see you, dear Madam, on this side eternity. God willing, I purpose to embark some time next year without fail. The infinitely condescending Redeemer vouchsafes to crown my labours with great success; but in the midst of all, America, dear America, is not forgotten by me. Your family is peculiarly dear. I look upon you as my mother, and on your children as my brethren and sisters. I have lately been in Yorkshire, where I saw a widow, whose husband lately died in triumph, and who has five sons and one daughter all walking in the love of God. Let this strengthen your faith, dear Madam, and encourage you to hope that you shall still see the travail of the Redeemer's soul in the salvation of all your children,
