Lord has blessed my ministry in England, and in Wales, where I trust I was married in the Lord; and as I married for him, I trust I shall thereby not be hindered, but rather forwarded in my work. O for that blessed time when we shall neither marry nor be given in marriage, but be as the angels of God! My soul longs for that glorious season. Perhaps, sometimes I am too impatient. But who that has tasted of Jesus's love, can forbear longing to be with him? I long to see him as he is, and my soul will never be compleatly satisfied till I arise after his divine likeness. This, I believe, is the desire, and frequently the frame of dear Mr. O's soul. But I believe we both have crosses to take up, and many trials to undergo, before we shall be admitted to the beatific vision. Alas! What a stranger am I to the meekness which was in Jesus? How much acrimony is there in my temper, that wants to be taken away? Blessed be God, my Saviour is omnipotent. He can, he will deliver me. He can, he will conform me to himself. I think I can sing these lines,—
My root of holiness thou art,
For faith hath made thee mine:
With all thy fulness fill my heart,
Till all I have be thine.
Dear Sir, what a fulness is there in Jesus? What a pity is it, that we should not draw largely out of it? Why should we be content with low degrees of holiness? Why should we be always dwarfs in religion? I am quite ashamed of my low stature. I am an unprofitable servant. O dear Mr. O, pray for me, that the Lord may purge me, and that I may bring forth more fruit. I have lately been at London, Gloucester, Wilts, and Wales. The work of the Lord prospers. I preach here twice every day. That God may bless and reward you all, is the earnest prayer of, dear Mr. O,
Yours most affectionately in Christ,
G. W.
