LETTER LXIV.
On board the Elizabeth, Gravesend, August 14, 1739.
Dear Madam,
YOUR affectionate parting, and the tears I observed you to shed, even when I was at a distance from you, made me almost ready to cry out "What mean you to weep and to break my heart?" Oh may our dear Lord put your tears into his bottle, and reward you a thousand fold for all the kindnesses you have shewn to me! Indeed I am less than the least of his servants. But yet, so loving is my dear Master, that he will not let a cup of cold water given in his name, to pass by unobserved or unrewarded. When partaking of your bounty of flour, I hope I shall pray that you and your's may eat bread in the kingdom of God. You have all good desires; I hope you are not far from the kingdom of God.—Oh let there not be any thing lacking. Give God your hearts, your whole hearts; let Jesus Christ's be your whole wisdom, your whole righteousness; and then he will be your whole sanctification and eternal redemption. I write this from my floating habitation, to assure you how sincerely I am
Your most obliged friend and affectionate humble servant, G. W.
LETTER LXV. On board the Elizabeth, August 14, 1739.
My dear Mr.
AT length we are embarked; our ship is now going to the Downs.—Yet a little while, and, God willing, I shall see you once more in the flesh. My family consists of more than twelve, besides two children; I hope all are desirous to know Christ. God strengthens me mightily in the inner man. The sermon I have sent you is one of my extempore sermons.—The journal will acquaint you with particulars.—My brother, the captain, hath been with me this last week.—If he leaves off disputing, and will come to Christ as a poor lost sinner, he will do well.—The bishop of London has lately wrote against me; I trust God hath assisted me in writing an answer.—It is now in the press.—All the self-righteous are up
