- dence points out the way, the language of my heart is, "Lo
I come."—I wrote to brother H 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 be God, 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,
Ever, 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
