LETTER DCCCCXXVIII.
To Mr. B.
Newcastle, Aug. 30, 1752.
My dear Mr. B.
YOUR last kind letter came to hand, only a few days before I left London. Business prevented my answering it then: accept a few lines from hence. They leave me on my way to Scotland. Thither the cloud seemed to move, and I purpose to call on you, God willing, in my return to London. Could you meet me at Leeds? I have thoughts of coming that way back. I have written to Mr. S, and as I expect to see him, you need say nothing about the books. I wrote also to Mr. G. A short interview will settle every thing. Do not let my friend be so solicitously anxious about persons or things. "The Lord reigneth," was the answer that Luther sent to over-careful Melancthon. Never fear.—Our Lord knows how to over-rule all for good. So that his work goes on, let you and I be content to be forgotten, nay to be trodden under foot, and slighted by our own spiritual children and friends. This is bitter, but wholsome physic. The all-wise physician I trust will make us drink it, till every evil, fretful, and uneasy temper be purged out of us. Let us then, my dear man, chearfully take the cup out of his blessed hands, and leave all to Him. A word to the wise is enough. I must not enlarge. How goes on brother Wb? I hope he does not preach in a controversial way; I suppose I shall see him in the North. My stay in Scotland will be about a month. You may direct for me at Edinburgh. I hope that a door is opened at Leicester and Lutterworth for field-preaching. We have had glorious seasons in Gloucestershire and London. O for a good gate in the North! It is harvest time.—All hands to work. My love to Mrs. B and all that love Christ, whether they think in all things as I do or not. I send Mr. ly my cordial respects, and beg you to accept the same from, my dear Mr. B,
Yours, &c.
G. W.
