Page:The Works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A. (1771 Vol 1).djvu/76

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have been, I think, frequently convinced; but nature, I find, has as frequently interposed, and persuaded you that you had gone far enough already.—But does not my dear brother find, that he yet lacks something? Have not his tempers and corruptions; nay, hath not sin itself dominion over him? Are his affections weaned from the world? Does he feel himself a poor lost sinner? Is he willing the Lord Jesus should be his whole righteousness? Is he convinced of the freeness, as well as of the riches of his grace? You see, my dear brother, how freely I deal with you. It is because I love you with a peculiar love.—Never did my heart exult at the sight of any relation, as at the sight of you; Surely God intends to give me my dear brother. He is already an almost; hasten, O Lord, that blessed time, when he shall be an altogether christian, and let thy kingdom, with full power, come into my dear brother's heart!—How shall I say farewell? If you have opportunity, pray write to

Your most affectionate, though unworthy brother,
G. W.

LETTER LXVII On board the Elizabeth going to the Downs, August 16, 1739.


Dear Mr. ——

I thank God for his goodness to brother Howell Harris. I thank you for informing me of it. The storm is diverted for a while, but I expect it to break upon my head one time or another. God has, for a while, prepared me a place of refuge in the Ship, from whence I write this. Oh beseech him, that I may improve the retirement by searching out my spirit. I have almost forgot, that I was in the world. My family on board is quite settled, and we live and love like christians. God only knows where you and I shall meet again; whether in time or eternity. However, this we know, that both must be tried to the uttermost. Inward and outward afflictions await us, and all the children of God. I am now reading the book of martyrs. They make me blush to think how little I suffer for Christ's sake. They warm my heart, and make me think the time long till I am called to resist even unto blood: But I fear the treachery of this heart of mine. Dear