Our people are filled as with new wine; it seems to be a Pentecost. I have preached six or seven times in Moorfields, these holidays. It would rejoice you to see the people flock from satan's booths to hear the gospel of the Son of God. The people seem to have such a spirit of supplication poured out upon them, that I believe we shall see great things. I am often weak in body, but, as my work requires, I am proportionably strengthened in the inner man. Was there ever such a sinner as I am? Was there ever such a Saviour as my Saviour?
Low at thy feet, O Jesus, let me lie, And love and praise to all eternity.
I salute all that love the Lord Jesus in sincerity, and am, dear brother J,
Yours most affectionately in Jesus Christ, G. W.
LETTER CCCCXI. To Mr. L.
London, May 11, 1742.
WITH this, I send you a few out of the many notes I have received from persons, who were convicted, converted, or comforted in Moorfields, during the late holidays. For many weeks, I found my heart much pressed to determine to venture to preach there at this season, when, if ever, satan's children keep up their annual rendezvous. I must inform you, that Moorfields is a large spacious place, given, as I have been told, by one Madam Moore, on purpose for all sorts of people to divert themselves in. For many years past, from one end to the other, booths of all kinds have been erected, for mountebanks, players, puppet shows, and such like. With a heart bleeding with compassion for so many thousands led captive by the devil at his will, on Whit-Monday, at six o'clock in the morning, attended by a large congregation of praying people, I ventured to lift up a standard amongst them in the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps there were about ten thousand in waiting, not for me, but for satan's instruments to amuse them.—Glad was I to find, that I had for once as it were got the start of the devil. I mounted
