thee." Dear Mr. C, God's goodness quite surprizes me. I cannot express myself better, than in a stanza or two of Erskine in his Paraphrase upon Solomon's song. I.
What wonders Lord dost thou perform, That stoopest thus so low, To put thy beauty on a worm, And then commend it so.
II.
What, dost thou praise a native black? I blush to find it true; O lend me words to render back The praise to whom 'tis due.
I hope my love will find acceptance with all your flock who know me, and who love the Lord Jesus in sincerity. I have often comforted myself and companions with this saying, "Now Mr. C and our other friends are praying for us." At the receipt of this, turn your prayers into praises, and then turn your praises again into prayers, in behalf of, dear Mr. C,
Your affectionate brother and fellow-labourer in Christ Jesus, G. W.
LETTER CLII. To Mr. H. B.
On board the Minerva, Feb. 16, 1741.
My dear brother in Christ,
BEFORE this is brought to your hands, I suppose you will have been arraigned before the Chief Justice. I am persuaded our Lord will plead on your behalf, and strengthen you with his mighty power in the inner man. The greater progress you make in the divine life, the more you will discover of the enmity that is in the seed of the serpent. It bruised our master's heel; it will also bruise ours. Here is our comfort, God who cannot lie, hath told us, that "we shall bruise his head." In the strength of this promise, I can give men and devils the challenge. Whole legions are ready to beset
