LETTERS (continued 2)

Yours most affectionately in Christ Jesus,

G. W.

LETTER DXLVI.

To the Same.

London, Jan. 18, 1744.

THIS afternoon I received your kind letter, and thank you a thousand times for your great generosity in lending me some furniture, having little of my own. I know who will repay you. Next week, God willing, my dear wife and little one will come to Gloucester, for I find it beyond my circumstances to maintain them here. I leave London, God willing, this day sev’nnight. Your affairs and concerns are mine. I shall lay them before our common Lord. My brother will receive a letter about my wife’s coming. She and the little one are brave and well. But why talk I of wife and little one? Let all be absorbed in the thoughts of the love, sufferings, free and full salvation of the infinitely great and glorious Emmanuel. Blessed, for ever blessed be his holy Name, for such happy beginnings of another year! How would it rejoice you to see the many thousands in this metropolis, like new-born babes, desiring to be fed with the sincere milk of the word, that they may grow thereby. This, if I know any thing of my heart, is all my salvation, and all my desire. In respect to other things, at present I know this is, and I trust always will be the habitual language of my heart: O blessed God,

Thy gifts, if call’d for, I resign,

Pleas’d to receive, pleas’d to restore;

Gifts are thy work; it shall be mine,

The giver only to adore.

That both of us may be always kept thus minded, is the earnest prayer of

Yours most affectionately,

G. W.

LETTER DXLVII.

To Mr. D―― T――.

Gloucester, Feb. 9, 1744.

My dear Friend,

WHO knows what a day may bring forth? Last night I was called to sacrifice my Isaac; I mean to bury my only child and son about four months old. Many things occurred to make me believe he was not only to be continued to me, but to be a preacher of the everlasting gospel. Pleased with the thought, and ambitious of having a son of my own, so divinely employed, satan was permitted to give me some wrong impressions, whereby, as I now find, I misapplied several texts of scripture. Upon these grounds I made no scruple of declaring, “that I should have a son, and that his name was to be John.” I mentioned the very time of his birth, and fondly hoped, that he was to be great in the sight of the Lord. Every thing happened according to the predictions, and my wife having had several narrow escapes while pregnant, especially by her falling from a high horse, and my driving her into a deep ditch in a one-horse chaise a little before the time of her lying-in, and from which we received little or no hurt, confirmed me in my expectation, that God would grant me my heart’s desire. I would observe to you, that the child was even born in a room, which the master of the house had prepared as a prison for his wife for coming to hear me. With joy would she often look upon the bars and staples and chains which were fixed in order to keep her in. About a week after his birth, I publickly baptized him in the Tabernacle, and in the company of thousands solemnly gave him up to that God, who gave him to me. A hymn, too fondly composed by an aged widow, as suitable to the occasion, was sung, and all went away big with hopes of the child’s being hereafter to be employed in the work of God; but how soon are all their fond, and as the event hath proved, their ill-grounded expectations blasted, as well as mine. House-keeping being expensive in London, I thought best to send both parent and child to Abergavenny, where my wife had a little house of my own, the furniture of which, as I thought of soon embarking for Georgia, I had partly sold, and partly given away. In their journey thither, they stopped at Gloucester at the Bell-Inn, which my brother now keeps, and in which I was born. There, my beloved was cut off with a stroke. Upon my coming here, without knowing what had happened, I enquired concerning the welfare of parent and child; and by the answer, found that the flower was cut down. I immediately called all to join in prayer, in which I blessed the Father of mercies for giving me a son, continuing it to me so long, and taking it from me so soon. All joined in desiring that I would decline preaching ’till the child was buried; but I remembered a saying of good Mr. Henry, “that weeping must not hinder sowing,” and therefore preached twice the next day, and also the day following; on the evening of which, just as I was closing my sermon, the bell struck out for the funeral. At first, I must acknowledge, it gave nature a little shake, but looking up I recovered strength, and then concluded with saying, that this text on which I had been preaching, namely, “all things worked together for good to them that love God,” made me as willing to go out to my son’s funeral, as to hear of his birth. Our parting from him was solemn. We kneeled down, prayed, and shed many tears, but I hope tears of resignation: And then, as he died in the house wherein I was born, he was taken and laid in the church where I was baptized, first communicated, and first preached. All this you may easily guess threw me into very solemn and deep reflection, and I hope deep humiliation; but I was comforted from that passage in the book of Kings, where is recorded the death of the Shunamite’s child, which the Prophet said, “The Lord had hid from him;” and the woman’s answer likewise to the Prophet when he asked, “Is it well with thee? Is it well with thy husband? Is it well with thy child?” And she answered, “It is well.” This gave me no small satisfaction. I immediately preached upon the text the day following at Gloucester, and then hastened up to London, preached upon the same there; and though disappointed of a living preacher by the death of my son; yet I hope what happened before his birth, and since at his death, hath taught me such lessons, as, if duly improved, may render his mistaken parent more cautious, more sober-minded, more experienced in satan’s devices, and consequently more useful in his future labours to the church of God. Thus, “out of the eater comes forth meat, and out of the strong comes forth sweetness.” Not doubting but our future life will be one continued explanation of this blessed riddle, I commend myself and you to the unerring guidance of God’s word and spirit, and am

Yours, &c.

G. W.

The HYMN mentioned in the foregoing Letter.

I.

POOR helpless babe! dear little child!

John be thy name, thy nature mild;

Great may’st thou be in Jesu’s sight,

A babe in whom he takes delight.

II.

Be thou made holy from the womb,

By him who sav’d thee from the ¹tomb:

In Jesu’s arms still may’st thou rest,

While sucking at thy mother’s breast.

III.

Blest be the parents with the son!

Blest be the God that gave you one!

We’ll magnify the Lord with you!

Share in your joy, we’re sure we do.

IV.

O may you both be taught of God,

To teach this Child his Saviour’s blood:

That thousands in your bliss may share,

In answer to united pray’r.

V.

And may the Lamb, your Master, grant

This grace, that you may never want

A child to stand before his face,

To preach his Love, his Sov’reign Grace!

¹ Alluding to the remarkable deliverance that his father and mother had some few weeks before his mother was delivered, when she and her husband being riding in a chaise, they were thrown into a deep ditch, and received no harm, as mentioned in Letter 534, p. 39.

LETTER DXLVIII.

To Mr. G. H――.

London, Feb. 24, 1744.

My dear dear Mr. H――,

MULTIPLICITY of urgent affairs has kept me from answering your kind letter sooner. Blessed be God for giving you such a prosperous journey. I am not sorry that some, after their much joy, have been brought down and plunged into much misery. It is no more than might be expected. Stolen sweets prepare for bitter tears. On Monday morning I shall know what the rioters intend doing. There has been dreadful work near Birmingham, but satan will be overthrown. We had a glorious fast on Monday, and collected above sixty pounds for our poor suffering brethren. We have had two solemn funerals. I hope the work prospers in your hands. Our lawyer hath sent me word, that the rioters stand trial.—I think, God willing, to be in Gloucestershire by Monday sev’nnight. The Lord be with you. I salute all, and am, my dear Mr. H――,

Your most affectionate, though unworthy friend and ready servant,

G. W.

Feb. 26.

P. S. Since I wrote the above, I have consulted with friends, and find it best to come through Gloucester to Abergavenny.—God willing, I hope to preach with you on Tuesday between seven and eight at night. Be pleased immediately on the receipt of this to send word to brother Adams to meet me without fail at Gloucester on Tuesday, to confer about our assize affair. I heard yesterday from Wales. I bought a second-hand suit of curtains to-day, so you need not send any thing to Abergavenny. “Poor, yet making others rich,” shall be my motto still.

LETTER DXLIX.

London, March 12, 1744.

My dear Friend,

THIS leaves me just returned from Gloucester assizes, where it has pleased the great Judge of quick and dead to give us the victory over the Hampton rioters. You remember I informed you, that I thought we should be obliged to appeal unto Cæsar. A solemn day of fasting and humiliation was kept on that account; and accordingly last term we lodged an information against them in the King’s-Bench. Matters of fact being proved by a variety of evidence, and the defendants making no reply, the rule was made absolute, and an information filed against them. To this they pleaded Not guilty, and therefore, according to the method of the Crown-office, the cause was referred to the assizes held in Gloucester the third instant. Our council opened the cause by informing the court, that rioters were not to be reformers, and that his Majesty had no where put the reins of government into the hands of mobbers, nor made them either judge or jury. One of them in particular, the Recorder of Oxford, with great gravity, reminded the gentlemen on the jury of the advice of Gamaliel, “Refrain from these men and let them alone, for if this council, or this work be of man, it will come to nought; but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it, least haply ye be found even to fight against God.” Our witnesses were then called. Mr. Adams and four more, three of which were not reputed Methodists, so clearly proved both the riot and the facts, that the judge was of opinion, there needed no other evidence. The council for the defendants then rose up, and displayed a good deal of oratory, and I think said all that could be said to mend a bad matter. One urged, “that we were enthusiasts, and our principles and practices had such a tendency to infect and hurt the people, that it was right, in his opinion, for any private person to stand up and put a stop to us; and whoever did so, was a friend to his country.” He strove to influence the jury, by telling them, “That if a verdict was given against the defendants, it would cost them two hundred pounds; that the defendants rioting was not premeditated, but that coming to hear Mr. A――, and being offended at his doctrine, a sudden quarrel arose, and thereby the unhappy men were led into the present fray, which he could have wished had not happened; but however, it did not amount to a riot, but only an assault.” Their other council informed the jury, “That they would undertake to prove, that the Methodists began the tumult first.” He was pleased to mention me by name, and acquainted the court, “That Mr. Whitefield had been travelling from common to common, making the people cry, and then picking their pockets under pretence of collecting money for the colony of Georgia, and knowing that Gloucestershire was a populous county, he at last came there; that he had now several curates, of which Mr. Adams was one, who in his preaching had found fault with the proceedings of the clergy, and had said, that if the people went to hear them, they would be damned.” He added, that “there had lately been such mobbing in Staffordshire, that a regiment of soldiers was sent down to suppress them; insinuating, that the Methodists were the authors; that we had now another cause of a like nature depending in Wiltshire, and that we were not of that mild pacific spirit, as we pretended to be.” This, and much more to the same purpose, though foreign to the matter in hand, pleased many of the auditors, who expressed their satisfaction, in hearing the Methodists in general, and me in particular, thus lashed, by frequent laughing. But our Lord not only kept me quite easy, but enabled me to rejoice in being thus honoured for his great Name’s sake. To prove what the defendants council had insinuated, they called up a young man, who was a brother to one of the defendants, and one of the mob. He swore point blank, “That Mr. Adams said, if people went to church, they would be damned, but if they would come to him, he would carry them to Jesus Christ.” He swore also, “that the brook into which Mr. A―― was thrown, was no deeper than half up his legs.” He said first, that there were but about ten of them that came to the house of Mr. A――; and then he swore, that there were about threescore. He said, there was a bell, and that one of the defendants did ask Mr. A―― to come off the stairs, but that none of them went up to him: upon which Mr. A―― willingly obeyed, went with them briskly along the street, and as he would have represented it, put himself into the skin-pit and brook, and so came out again. He said also some other things; but through the whole, his evidence appeared so flagrantly false, that one of the council said, “It was enough to make his hair stand ♦on end.” The judge himself wished, “That the man had so much religion as to fear an oath.” So he went down in disgrace. Their second evidence was an aged woman, mother of one of the defendants; she swore, “That her son did go up stairs to Mr. A――, and that Mr. A―― tore her son’s coat;” but she talked so fast, and her evidence was so palpably false, that she was sent away in as much disgrace as the other. Their third and last evidence, was father to one who was in the mob, tho’ not one of the defendants. The chief he had to say was, “That when Mr. A―― was coming from the brook, he met him and said, Brother, how do you do? Upon which he answer’d, that he had received no damage, but had been in the brook and came out again.” So that all their evidences, however contrary one to another, yet corroborated ours, and proved the riot out of their own mouths. The book was then given to a justice of the peace, who had formerly taken up Mr. C―― for preaching near Stroud, and had lately given many signal proofs that he was no friend to the Methodists. But he intending to speak only about their characters, and the council and judge looking upon that as quite impertinent to the matter in hand, he was not admitted as an evidence. Upon this, his Lordship with great candor and impartiality summed up the evidence, and told the jury, “That he thought they should bring all the defendants in Guilty; for our evidences had sufficiently proved the whole of the information, and also, that the riot was premeditated.”—He said, “That, in his opinion, the chief of the defendants evidence was incredible; and, that supposing the Methodists were heterodox, (as perhaps they might be) it belonged to the ecclesiastical government to call them to an account; that they were subjects, and rioters were not to be their reformers.” He also reminded them “of the dreadful consequences of rioting at any time, much more at such a critical time as this; that rioting was the forerunner of, and might end in rebellion; that it was felony without benefit of clergy, to pull down a Meeting-house; and for all as he knew, it was high treason to pull down even a bawdy-house.—That this information also came from the King’s-Bench; that his Majesty’s justices there, thought they had sufficient reason to grant it; that the matters contained in it had been evidently proved before them; and consequently they should bring in all the defendants guilty.” Upon this the jury were desired to consider of their verdict, and for a while there seemed to be some little demur among them. His Lordship perceiving the cause of it, immediately informed them, “they had nothing to do with the damages, (that was to be referred to the King’s-Bench) they were only to consider, whether the defendants were guilty or not.” Whereupon in a few minutes they gave a verdict for the prosecutors, and brought in all the defendants guilty of the whole information lodged against them. I then retired to my lodgings, kneeled down, and with my friends gave thanks to our all-conquering Emmanuel. Afterwards I went to the inn, prayed and returned thanks with the witnesses, exhorted them to behave with meekness and humility to their adversaries; and after they had taken proper refreshment, I sent them home rejoicing. In the evening I preached on these words of the Psalmist, “By this I know that thou favourest me, since thou hast not suffered mine enemy to triumph over me.” God was pleased to enlarge my heart much. I was very happy with my friends afterwards, and the next morning set out for London, where we had a blessed thanksgiving season, and from whence I take the first opportunity of sending you these particulars.

I remain, Sir, your very affectionate friend,

G. W.

LETTER DL.

To Mrs. D――.

London, March 15, 1744.

Dear Madam,

SHALL I promise and not perform? God forbid! This comes in answer to your commands, and to inform you, that through him who has the hearts of all men in his hands, we came off more than conquerors, respecting our Gloucester trial. The rioters were brought in guilty, and I suppose will have an execution issued out against them next Term. I hear they are hugely alarmed; but they know not that we intend to let them see what we could do, and then to forgive them. This troublesome affair being now over, I must prepare for my intended voyage. They tell me there is a ship going from Portsmouth. God willing, I purpose to take my passage in it, and though calls come to me from every quarter, yet I must; once more visit my dear family in America. Some well-meaning people threaten me with I know not what, if I embark at this time; but my absence hath been so long and unexpected, that come what will, I am determined to prosecute my intended voyage; and therefore whether we meet any more in the flesh, I trust we shall meet in the world of spirits, where parting, weeping, and breaking of hearts will no more disturb and try the affections of, dear Madam,

Yours in the dear Emmanuel,

G. W.

LETTER DLI.

To the Same.

Plymouth, June 26, 1744.

My dear Friend,

YOU see by this where I am. Doubtless you’ll wonder at the quick transition from Portsmouth to Plymouth. To the former I intended going when I wrote last; but just before I took leave of the dear tabernacle people, a message was sent to me, that the captain in which I was to sail from thence, would not take me for fear of spoiling his sailors. Some interpreted this as a call from providence not to embark at this time; but I enjoined them silence ’till I had taken my leave, and then, hearing of a mast-ship that was going under convoy from Plymouth, I hastened thither, and have taken a passage in the Wilmington, Capt. Dalby, bound to Piscataway, in New-England. My first reception here was a little unpromising. A report being spread that I was come, a great number of people assembled upon the Hoe, (a large green for walks and diversions) and somebody brought out a bear and a drum; but I did not come ’till the following evening, when, under pretence of a hue-and-cry, several broke into the room where I lodged at the inn, and disturbed me very much. I then betook myself to private lodgings, and being gone to rest, after preaching to a large congregation, and visiting the French prisoners, the good woman of the house came and told me, that a well-dressed gentleman desired to speak with me. Imagining that it was some Nicodemite, I desired he might be brought up. He came and sat down by my bedside, told me he was a lieutenant of a man of war, congratulated me on the success of my ministry, and expressed himself much concerned for being detained from hearing me. He then asked me, if I knew him. I answered, no. He replied, his name was Cadogan. I rejoined, that I had seen one Mr. Cadogan, who was formerly an officer at Georgia, about a fortnight ago at Bristol. Upon this, he immediately rose up, uttering the most abusive language, calling me dog, rogue, villain, &c. and beat me most unmercifully with his gold-headed cane. As you know I have not much natural courage, guess how surprized I was; being apprehensive that he intended to shoot or stab me, I underwent all the fears of a sudden violent death. But, as it providentially happened, my hostess and her daughter hearing me cry murder, rushed into the room and seized him by the collar; however, he immediately disengaged himself from them, and repeated his blows upon me. The cry of murder was repeated also, which putting him into some terror, he made towards the chamber-door, from whence the good woman pushed him down stairs. About the bottom of which, a second cry’d out, “Take courage, I am ready to help you;” accordingly, whilst the other was escaping, he rushed up, and finding one of the women coming down, took her by the heels and threw her upon the stairs, by which her back was almost broken. By this time the neighbourhood was alarmed. Unwilling to add to it, I desired the doors might be shut, and so betook myself to rest, not without reflecting, how indispensibly necessary it was for christians and christian ministers to be always upon their guard, and with what great propriety we are taught to pray in our excellent Litany, “from sudden,” that is, “from violent and unprepared death, good Lord deliver us.” That this may be our happy lot, is the hearty prayer of, dear Madam,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLII.

To the Same.

Plymouth, July 4, 1744.

SINCE my last, I have had some particular informations about the late odd adventure. It seems, that four gentlemen came to the house of one of my particular friends, kindly enquiring after me, and desired to know where I lodged, that they might come and pay their respects. He directed them. Soon afterwards I received a letter, informing me that the writer was a nephew to Mr. S――, an eminent attorney at New-York; that he had the pleasure of supping with me at his uncle’s house, and desired my company to sup with him and a few more friends at a tavern. I sent him word, that it was not customary for me to sup out at taverns, but should be glad of his company, out of respect to his uncle, to eat a morsel with him at my lodgings. He came; we supped; and I observed that he frequently looked around him, and seemed very absent; but having no suspicion, I continued in conversation with him and my other friends, ’till we parted. This, I now find, was to have been the assassin; and being interrogated by his other companions on his return to the tavern about what he had done, he answered, that being used so civilly, he had not the heart to touch me. Upon which, as I am informed, the person who assaulted me laid a wager of ten guineas that he would do my business for me. Some say, that they took his sword from him, which I suppose they did, for I only saw and felt the weight of his cane. The next morning, I was to expound at a private house, and then to set out for Biddeford. Some urged me to stay and prosecute; but being better employed, I went on my intended journey, was greatly blessed in preaching the everlasting gospel, and upon my return was well paid for what I had suffered: curiosity having led perhaps two thousand more than ordinary to see and hear a man, that had like to have been murdered in his bed. Thus all things tend to the furtherance of the gospel, and work together for good to those that love God.

Thus satan thwarts, and men object,

And yet the thing they thwart, effect.

Leaving you to add an Hallelujah, I subscribe myself,

Ever, ever yours,

G. W.

LETTER DLIII.

To Mr. S――.

Plymouth, July 21, 1744.

I Expected a line from you this morning; but I suppose you think we are gone. This day came in a privateer, which saw the Brest Squadron that has pursued two of our men of war, the Dreadnought and Frederick; so that had we sailed, we should in all probability have been carried into France. We are now to go under convoy of the grand fleet; many letters from our friends at Portsmouth inform us, that they are to sail on Sunday; but the wind hath not been very favourable, so we may yet stay some days longer. I never was so easy in this respect before. In one or two things I find my will reluctant; but Jesus will bring all things in subjection to him. I have been greatly refreshed this evening in preaching his blood. The congregations grow visibly every day. You will see the letter from Kingsbridge.—Last night many from the Dock came and guarded me home, being apprehensive there was a design against me. Without my knowledge, they insulted a man who intended to hurt me, for which I am sorry. We had a wonderful good time last night. O help me to praise my Saviour! My health is better. I hope you got to London well. Whether we sail or not, expect to hear again from dear, dear J――,

Ever, ever yours, &c.

G. W.

Open a door, which earth and hell

May strive to shut, but strive in vain;

Let thy word richly with them dwell,

And let their gracious fruit remain!

LETTER DLIV.

To Mr. T――.

Plymouth, July 26, 1744.

My dear Friend,

ACCEPT some few hasty lines from one, who, properly speaking, may at present be stiled a prisoner at large. I am still here waiting for the promised convoy, and as I humbly hope, really waiting for the convoy of death to carry me to Abraham’s bosom. Could you think it? I have been preaching a confirmation sermon. Do you ask me where? In a Quaker’s field. As I saw thousands flocked to the church to have the Bishop’s hands imposed upon them, I thought it not improper to let them have a word of exhortation suitable to the occasion. I have also made an elopement to Kingsbridge, where I preached to many thousands a few days ago. It was really a most solemn occasion. A calling, inviting, persuasive gift was vouchsafed me. The hearts of the auditory seemed to be bowed as the heart of one man. Many tears were shed; but I was obliged to ride off as soon as my discourse was ended, and to return hither in the night. But blessed be God, our night was as it were turned into day. I was accompanied by several old and new converts, and we conversed in some degree, as became persons who ought to be employed every hour and every moment in trimming their lamps to be ready for the midnight cry, “Behold the bridegroom cometh!” As I am at present in this unsettled state, continually engaged in preaching, and in talking privately with many, very many awakened souls, you and my other friends must be content with receiving short, but I hope truly loving letters, from

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLV.

To Mr. J―― S――.

Plymouth, July 27, 1744.

MATTERS go on better and better here. I begin to think myself in London. We have our regular morning meetings; and our Lord is pleased to grace them with his presence. We are looking out for a place proper for a society, and to expound in. People come daily to me, especially from the Dock, under convictions. Some, I believe, have really closed with Christ; and here are several aged persons perfectly made young again. We are just now entered upon our singing hours.—The souls come forward greatly in many respects, and friends are more and more hearty. Fresh news from Kingsbridge of souls being awakened; but I am kept close prisoner on account of the convoy. Yesterday morning we were called up at the Dock, very early, by a false alarm that our convoy was come. Many poor souls much lamented it. We hastened hither, and I expounded upon our Lord’s bidding his disciples to watch. This waiting is much blessed to me. I am kept passive; notwithstanding, satan attempts to disturb me, but Jesus refreshes me, and overcomes him. I need not bid you to pray for me. Brother C―― must come into these parts soon.

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLVI.

To the Same.

Plymouth, July 29, 1744.

OUR Lord has been giving us blessings in drops, but now he is sending them in showers. This morning we have had a most precious meeting. Perhaps more good hath been done by that one sermon, than by all I have preached before. When God will work, who shall hinder? The wind is yet against us. Our Lord detains me here for wise reasons. Some persons, formerly prejudiced against me, have offered to give me a piece of ground surrounded with walls, for a society room. I believe that one will be built soon. Brother C―― must stay in the West some time. The Lord Jesus blesses me with health, and a sweet preaching spirit. O grace, grace! I will join with thee in praising it. Adieu, my friend, I am yours, in the bonds of eternal love, whilst

G. W.

LETTER DLVII.

To the Same.

Plymouth, August 3, 1744.

My dear, dear Friend,

IT is past ten, or I would write you a long letter. Our convoy is come, and perhaps we may sail to-morrow. It is delightful to be here. We come from Dock in the evenings, in great companies, singing and praising God. Our parting there has been more awful than words can express. I shall have sailed before you can answer this.

I.

Eternal Jesus, bless thy word,

Be mindful of thy child;

Behold thy servant; be thou, Lord,

His helmet, sword, and shield.

II.

Close by thy side him ever keep;

Still hold him in thy hand,

Till he and all thy ransom’d sheep,

Shall rest in their own land.

III.

The preachers and the people there,

Shall thee in fulness see;

Shall keep the long sabbatic year,

The feast of jubilee.

If we never meet again in this suffering world, God grant that we may ere long see each other in the heavenly paradise, where all tears shall be wiped from our eyes, and death, sin, and sorrow we shall know no more. Farewel.

Ever, ever yours,

G. W.

LETTER DLVIII.

To Mr. E――.

Plymouth, August 4, 1744.

My very dear Brother E――,

I Thank you for your last kind and loving letter, and as a token of my unfeigned love to you, I send you these few lines by way of answer, before I embark. Our convoy is now come, and in all probability we shall sail this day or tomorrow. I need not stir up my dear brother, and other dear souls with you, to pray for me and mine. I am quite easy about trust, having put all things into the hands of the Lord Jesus, upon whose shoulders the government of all is placed. He will, he does order all things well: I bless him for it, and for what he has, and is doing among the soldiers. I desire you all to bless him for what he is doing in these parts; for preaching at the Dock is now like preaching at the tabernacle. It would delight your dear soul, my brother, to be a spectator of the people’s seriousness. Last night we had a most awful and solemn parting; many wept sorely. After sermon we walked pleasantly over the fields, blessing and praising God. Our morning lectures are very delightful. O the thousands that flock to the preaching of Christ’s gospel! If brother C―― is in London, pray salute him in my name, and all the dear dear brethren and sisters, wishing you all thousands and millions of blessings, and earnestly intreating an interest in your prayers for me the chief of sinners. I subscribe myself, my dear brother E――,

Yours most affectionately in the most adorable Redeemer,

G. W.

Postscript. I must tell you one thing more. There is a ferry over to Plymouth; and the ferrymen, which were like Levi the publican at the receipt of custom, are now so much my friends, that they will take nothing of the multitude that come to hear me preach, saying, “God forbid that we should sell the word of God.” O! the hearts of all men are in the hand of the Lord!

LETTER DLIX.

To Mr. ――.

On board the Wilmington, Oct. 20, 1744.

My dear Friend,

YOU know in what a poor state of health I was, when I embarked. The length, and seeming tediousness of the voyage, hath occasioned no small addition to the violent pain in my side; however, blessed be God, in a week or two after we sailed, we began to have a church in our ship. Two serious New-England friends finding how I was served at Portsmouth, came from thence to Plymouth in order to bear me company. We had regular public prayer morning and evening, frequent communion, and days of humiliation and fasting. Being time of war, and sailing out with near 150 ships, we had several convoys. Their taking leave of each other at their several appointed places, was striking: but ours was ordered to convoy us all the way. We were soon, and have been often alarmed. Once with the sight of a Dutch fleet, whom we took for an enemy; and again at the sight of Admiral Balchen, who rode by us receiving the obeisance of the surrounding ships, as though he was Lord of the whole ocean. It was full six weeks ere we reached the Western Islands, off which it being calm weather, we continued floating for some days; during which interval we were like to suffer much damage. The wind having brisked up a little, and orders being given for tacking about, one of the ships, I know not by what accident, having missed her stays, in turning, came directly upon us; I happened at that time to be singing a hymn upon deck with my little family, and thinking it best to keep there to receive the shock, I had the opportunity of seeing what passed. The ship struck her mainsail into our bowsprit, but our ship being of a large, and theirs of a smaller size, our hull received but little damage, whilst theirs received such a blow, that when disentangled from us, they were immediately apprehensive of sinking. As they again passed by us, when we expected another touch, their cries and groans were awful. O how eagerly did they cry for some signal to be given! It was done. A little after that, we came up with the convoy, and our captain informed them of what had happened. The answer was, “This is your praying, and be damned to ye.” With many expressions of the like nature. This, I must own, shocked me more than the striking of the ships. I called my friends together, and broke out into these words in prayer: “God of the sea and God of the dry land! This is a night of rebuke and blasphemy: shew thyself, O God, and take us under thy own immediate protection; be thou our convoy, and make a difference between those that fear thee and those that fear thee not!” The disabled ship was taken into tow. Next morning they were saluted in like manner as the night before, and orders were given us to follow our convoy into Fial; but on a sudden a violent euroclydon arose, which not only prevented our going into Fial, but battered and drove away our convoy, so that we saw him no more all the voyage. For my own part, I thought it no loss; we sailed very comfortably on, ’till we were again alarmed with the sight of two ships, making up to us with all the sail they could well croud, and which our captain took to be enemies. The preparations for an engagement, to me, who you know am naturally a coward, were formidable. Guns mounting, chains put about the masts, every thing taken out of the great cabin, hammocks put about the sides of the ship, and all, except myself, seemed ready for fire and smoke. My wife, after having dressed herself to prepare for all events, set about making cartridges, whilst the husband wanted to go into the holes of the ship, hearing that was the chaplain’s usual place. I went, but not liking my situation, and being desired by one of my New-England friends to say something to animate the men, I crept up on deck, and for the first time of my life beat up to arms by a warm exhortation. The men seemed pleased, the apprehended enemy approached, but upon nearer view we found them not only to be friends, but the two masts ships that were going with us under the same convoy. This pleased us all. The captain taking this opportunity to clean the cabin, said, “After all, this is the best fighting:” with which you may be sure I readily concurred, praying, and believing at the same time, that all our various conflicts with spiritual enemies might, and would under the conduct of the all-conquering captain of our salvation, at last terminate in a thorough cleansing, and an eternal purification of the defiled cabin of our hearts. Committing you to his almighty guidance and protection, I subscribe myself,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLX.

To Mr. ――.

York (New-England,) Oct. 30, 1744.

Dear Friend,

DON’T judge me for not writing more frequent. It was impracticable. I have been laid on a bed of sickness, and was, in the apprehension of myself and others, at the very mouth of the heavenly harbour; but as that more than once hath been the case, I am putting out to sea again. O who would but follow the Redeemer blindfold? No convoy like him who is the God of the sea and the God of the dry land. After eleven weeks passage he hath brought us hither, but through my impatience and imprudence I and my friends were like to suffer loss. A little smack coming up to us just as we were near port, and being told that she would be in several hours before the ship, I, with others in complaisance to me, though persuaded to the contrary, ventured in her. It soon grew dark, our pilots missed their inlet and we were tossed about all night. My pain was great, having had for some time a nervous cholic, and I was so hungry that I could have gnawed the very boards. The fishermen had nothing but a few potatoes, of which I partook most eagerly; but withal, thought my situation to be like the poor disciples, who were rowing and toiling all night, when the wind was contrary. About the fourth watch of the night, deliverance came; the men discovered the proper inlet; but what passed before our arrival is somewhat striking to me. One of my friends, on asking what news, was answered, that the New-England people were turned new lights; which with us you know is a term for heterodoxy; but however, added the man, not knowing that I was lying down at his elbow, they are all expecting one Mr. Whitefield; and my sister, and a great company of her stamp, were yesterday all praying for his safe arrival. This made me to take courage. I continued undiscovered; and in a few hours in answer I trust to new light prayers, we arrived safe at York, a few miles off Piscataway, the place to which we were bound.—But you must excuse enlarging; as I recover strength you shall hear again from

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXI.

To Mr. ――.

York, Nov. 6, 1744.

Dear Sir,

HOW thankful ought I to be to him, whose mercy endureth for ever! God has commanded a physician (once a notorious deist, but through grace converted at my last visit in New-England) to receive me here. Worthy Colonel P――, who lives at the very mouth of the harbour, on seeing our ship, went with some other friends in his own boat to invite and conduct me to his princely habitation. But God appointed otherwise. In about half an hour after my arrival, I was put to bed, racked with a nervous cholic, and convulsed from the waste down to my toes. A total convulsion was immediately apprehended.

My wife and friends stood weeping by,

In tears resolv’d to see me die.

Filled with divine consolation, I begged them not to be shocked. My Saviour whispered that all was well, and therefore I desired them not to be surprized if I should be totally convulsed, or be suffered in a delirium to speak things that were wrong. Many, many of God’s dearest children, through the infirmities which crazy constitutions more especially are liable to, have been called to drink such a bitter cup before me. But an all-compassionate Redeemer disappointed our fears, and exceeded our strongest expectations. Apprehended convulsions were kept off; and though I was so weak as not to be able to bear the sound of a tread of the foot, or the voice of friends who came to see and pray with me, yet my heart was kept in perfect peace. After undergoing, for about four days, fomentations and exercises of different kinds, by having my feet put into warm water, &c. nature was relieved, and what I had taken four days before came away hardly discoloured. After this, whilst carried about by my tender nurse and a servant, still racked with pain, and like an helpless child, I could only say, “Look and learn what a poor creature I am.” The scene affects me yet. May it never be forgotten! I must retire, and leave enlarging to another opportunity. In the mean while, assure yourself of my being, though less than the least of all,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXII.

To Mr. ――.

Portsmouth, (New-England) Nov. 16, 1744.

My dear Friend,

AS I promised, I must employ a little of my new-gained strength in writing to you. Soon after I began to recover, good old Mr. M―― the minister of York, who feared the Lord greatly from his youth, came to and accosted me thus: “Sir, you are first welcome to America; secondly, to New-England; thirdly, to all the faithful ministers in New-England; fourthly, to all the good people in New-England; fifthly, to all the good people of York; and sixthly and lastly, to me, dear Sir, less than the least of all.” He then urged me to give them a sermon. Too forward to reingage in my old delightful work, I complied, notwithstanding at the same time word had been sent to Boston that I was dying; upon which, my dear Gaius and a beloved physician came, either to take care of me, or attend my funeral; but to their great surprize they found me in the pulpit. God was with me but imprudently going over the ferry to Portsmouth, I caught cold, immediately relapsed, and was taken, as every one thought, with death, in my dear friend Mr. Sherburne’s house. My pains returned; but what gave me most concern was, that notice had been given of my being to preach the next evening. A great number of ministers and people flocked to hear; three physicians attended me, and Colonel Pepperel with many others were so kind as to pay me a visit and sympathize with me. God dealt so bountifully with me, that I was enabled to tell the Colonel in particular, from heart-experience, that I felt a divine life distinct from my animal life, which made me as it were to laugh at pain; this made me determine to get up and preach, though the General and all had left me, and the person appointed to lecture in my stead was just going out of the house. My dear York physician was then about to administer a medicine. I on a sudden cried, “Doctor, my pains are suspended: by the help of God I’ll go and preach, and then come home and die.” With some difficulty I reached the pulpit. All looked quite surprized, as though they saw one rose from the dead. Indeed, I was as pale as death, and told them “they must look upon me as a dying man, that I came to bear my dying testimony to the truths I had formerly preached amongst them, and to the invisible realities of another world.” Nature (by my continuing an hour in my discourse) was almost quite exhausted; but O what life! what power spread all around! All seemed to be melted, and were drowned in tears. The cry after me, when I left the pulpit, was like the cry of sincere mourners when attending the funeral of a dear departed friend. Upon my coming home, I was laid on a bed upon the ground near the fire, and I heard them say, “He is gone;” but still, you find by this I am alive, and if spared to be made instrumental in making any poor dead soul alive to God, I shall rejoice that the all-wise Redeemer has kept out of heaven a little longer,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXIII.

To Mr. ――.

Boston, Jan. 18, 1745.

My dear Friend,

BY this time I suppose you have heard, by your brother’s letter, how good old Mr. Moody, in his honest way, said, I was welcome to all the faithful ministers in New-England. But the good old man judged too much by his own honest feelings. You see I am now at Boston, whither I was brought from Piscataway in a coach and four. The joy with which I was received by the common people, cannot well be described; but many of the ministers how shy?—And how different from what once they were? When last in Boston, governor Belcher was in the chair: then, reges ad exemplum, totus componitur orbis, he honoured me with great honour, and the clergy paid the nod, and obeyed. In many I then perceived it was quite forced, and I think when at his table I whispered to some and said, if ever I came again, many of those who now seem extremely civil, will turn out my open and avowed enemies. The event has proved, that in this respect I have been no false prophet. You know where it is written, “There arose a king, who knew not Joseph.” Freed therefore from their former restraint, many have appeared in puris naturalibus. Some occasions of offence had undoubtedly been given whilst I was here and preached up and down the country.—Nothing however appeared but a pure, divine power working upon, converting, and transforming people’s hearts, of all ranks, without any extraordinary phænomena attending it. Good Mr. T―― succeeded me; numbers succeeded him. Lecture upon lecture were set up in various places; one minister called to another, to help drag the gospel net; and by all the accounts that I can have from private information, or good Mr. Prince’s weekly history, which I send you with this, one would have imagined the millennium was coming indeed. But you know, in this mixed state of things, wild-fire will necessarily blend itself with the pure fire that comes from God’s altar. This the enemy long waited for; at last it broke out and spread itself; and it must be confessed, through the instrumentality of many good souls both among clergy and laity, who for a while mistaking fancy for faith, and imagination for revelation, were guilty of great imprudence. What these were, I have not time now to particularize; I can only inform you, that all is laid to me as being the primum mobile though there was not so much as the appearance of any thing of this nature when I left New-England last. But, maugre all, my poor labours are yet attended with the usual blessings, and therefore I must entreat you as usual to pray and give thanks in behalf of

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXIV.

To Mr. ――.

Boston, Feb. 6, 1745.

My dear Friend,

I Remember you once told me, that you heard one of the good old Puritans, who went over to New-England, wrote back again, that he went from Old-England to avoid the Lord Bishops, and came to New-England to get under the Lord Brethren. Well is it at present that they are the Lord Brethren; for finding some of their pastors without cause shy of me, they have passed votes of invitation for me to preach in the pulpits, and some time ago prevailed upon me, as they heard I had done in Scotland, to set up a lecture at six o’clock in the morning. Not expecting a very great auditory, I opened a lecture in one of the smallest meetings, upon these words, “And they came early in the morning to hear him;” but how was I disappointed? Such great numbers flocked to hear, that I was obliged for the future to make use of two of their very largest places of worship, where I believe seldom less than two or three thousand attentive hearers hung as it were upon me, to hear the word preached. I began with the first of Genesis, and have now lectured in order, till I am almost come to the story of Abraham sending his servant to fetch a wife for his son Isaac. Many I trust have been made willing to say, “I will go with the God-man, even Isaac’s God.” It is impossible to describe the eagerness and punctuality of these early visitants. To see so many hundreds of both sexes neatly dressed, walking or riding so early along the streets to get food for their souls, has feasted my own heart. The Pharaohs who used to say, “Ye are idle, ye are idle,” now are struck dumb: for lecture, and family prayer, and breakfast, are now over in many houses before the sun is suffered to come into others windows; and it is now become almost a common proverb, “That between Tar-water, and early rising, the physicians will have no business.” One morning the croud was so great, that I was obliged to go in at the window. The high sheriff, who was once most forward in persecuting good Mr. D――t, being a little convinced under the word, accompanied me, and when he put his head into the window after me, the people were ready to cry out, “Is Saul also among the prophets?” Hoping hereafter to send you and other friends a further account of many such real instances of all-conquering grace, I subscribe myself

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXV.

To Mr. A――.

Ipswich, Feb. 7, 1745.

AND how does my very dear brother A――? I heard by some friend lately that he was well.—I hope this will find him yet better, and more and more happy in the ever-lovely, ever-loving Jesus.—I suppose you have heard of his great goodness to me and mine.—We have been carried through various trials; and can set up our Ebenezer, saying, “Hitherto hath the Lord helped us.”—I cannot help thinking but that the Lord Jesus is about to triumph gloriously.—He is pleased to bear me as on eagles wings, and causes both sinners and saints to hear his voice.—I am kept very happy, and see more and more of the mystery of iniquity that lies in my heart. I rejoice in knowing that the blood of Jesus will cleanse me from all.—I long to hear how it is with the dear lambs in Gloucestershire.—I commit you and them to the care of the compassionate bishop and shepherd of souls; and subscribe myself, my dear man,

Yours most affectionately,

G. W.

P. S. My dear wife joins in sending cordial salutations to you, yours, and all.

LETTER DLXVI.

To Mrs. ――.

Boston, Feb. 17, 1745.

Dear Madam,

THIS leaves me just retired from my spiritual levee. Our good friend Mr. S―― tells me, while I am here he looks upon his house not as his own, but mine. His parlour is large, and I sit there to receive gospel visitants. Good Mr. P―― told me some time ago, that I should shortly be favoured with the company of a very pensive and uncommon person; a man of good parts, ready wit, and lively imagination, and who had made it his business, in order to furnish matter for preaching over a bottle, to come and hear, and then carry away scraps of my sermons, which it seems were to serve as texts or theses for his tavern harangues. A few nights ago he came for this purpose to Doctor S――’s meeting; upon my coming in, he crouded after amongst the people, and having got sufficient matter to work upon as he thought, attempted to go out; but being pent in on every side, he found his endeavours fruitless. Obliged thus to stay, and looking up to me, waiting for some fresh matter for ridicule, God was pleased to prick him to the heart. He came to Mr. P―― full of horror, confessed his crimes, and longed to ask my pardon, but was afraid to see me. Mr. P―― encouraged him to venture. This morning hearing somebody knock at the parlour door, I arose, and upon opening the door, by the paleness, pensiveness, and horror of his countenance, guessed I had met with the person of whom Mr. P―― had apprized me. Immediately he cried with a low but plaintive voice, “Sir, can you forgive me?” I smiled and said, “Yes, Sir, very readily.” Indeed, replied he, Sir, you cannot when I tell you all, I then asked him to sit down; and judging that he had sufficiently felt the lashes of the law, I preached to him the gospel. That it may be the power of God through faith unto his eternal salvation, you will join in praying, dear madam, with

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXVII.

To Mrs. ――.

Boston, Feb. 19, 1745.

My dear Friend,

TEMPORA mutantur; a confederacy, a confederacy! The clergy, amongst whom are a few mistaken, misinformed good old men, are publishing halfpenny testimonials against me. Even the president, professors, and tutors of Hertford college, where I was, as you know, some few years ago received with so much uncommon respect, have joined the confederacy. Good Mr. C――, that venerable, truly primitive, good old Puritan, as I am informed, had many of these testimonials brought him, in order to judge of their importance. He took them, weighed them in his hands and having read them before, returned them immediately, saying, “They did not weigh much.” However, I thank God, “out of the eater hath come forth meat.” They have done me real service. Some unguarded expressions, in the heat of less experienced youth, I certainly did drop. I was much too precipitate in hearkening to, and publishing private informations, and thereby Peter-like cut too many ears off: but this is my comfort, when we mean well, though no thanks to our own too forward though well-meant zeal, Jesus, that almighty, all-compassionate physician, will heal and restore the ears again. Some good friends on my side the question are publishing testimonials in my favour. Thus you see what a militant state we are in at present. Laudatur ab eis, culpatur ab illis. Amidst all, the word runs and is glorified, and many are so enraged at the treatment I meet with, that they came to me lately, assuring me, that if I’ll consent, they will erect in a few weeks time, the outside of the largest place of worship that was ever seen in America; but you know ceiled houses were never my aim. I therefore thanked them for, but at the same time begged leave to refuse the accepting of their kind offer. How or when the present storm will subside, for subside I am persuaded it will, is as yet uncertain. I can only, at present, earnestly beg the continuance of your prayers, that whilst tossing in this floating ark I may be purged of some of my corruptions, and be kept in good temper towards those who I believe really think they do God’s service in opposing, dear Madam,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXVIII.

Piscataqua, March 6, 1745.

My very dear, dear J.

THIS comes by Captain Darling. I hear from Boston, a bookseller has got the books you sent over. I have sent a letter to Doctor C――, with my answer to Harvard college, which I would have you print, with their testimony, (which is an original:) and my answer to the second part of the observation and remarks upon the charge of the Bishop of L――. May Jesus give them his blessing. I would have them printed so as to be sold cheap: you may collect or print them severally as you will. I cannot yet get time to prepare my sermons, or the other part of my life, for the press. I am writing another New-England journal, which I will send when I leave it; when that will be, I know not. I expect Mr. Habersham every hour. W―― N―― and J―― are got safe to Charles-Town. I heard from friends there last week. America, I am afraid, begins to be too dear to me. The Lord smiles upon me and mine, and makes us very happy in himself, and happy in one another. Here is a very large field of action. A very fine and effectual door is opened; my bodily strength is recovered, and my soul more than ever in love with a crucified Jesus. I could write more to you and other dear friends, but if I do, I shall neglect things of a more public and immediate concern; neither can my dear wife write, because she is fully employed in copying my letters. However, we do not forget our dear London and English friends. We pray for them often, and sometimes cannot help wishing some more may come over into this delightful wilderness; it is a fruitful field. Jesus waters it with his blessings. We expect sister W――. Here are wars and rumours of wars, on this, as well as your side of the water. But Jesus’s disciples may be at peace. O that this may find thy dear heart quite swallowed up in his amazing love! Be pleased to remember us most tenderly to all, and lose no opportunity of sending a line in any American ships. So, my very dear dear man, I rest

Thy very affectionate happy friend, and servant in Jesus Christ,

G. W.

LETTER DLXIX.

To Mr. C――.

Piscataqua, March 6, 1745.

My very dear Brother C――,

IT gives me some concern, that I cannot send thee a long letter, but at present I have so many things of importance before me, which must be immediately dispatched, that I desire others to excuse me too. I do not forget any of you as I know of, and, God willing, shall redeem every opportunity of sending to England. Our Saviour wonderfully smiles on us here; several years work I think lies before me. The Lord helps me to preach with the demonstration of the spirit and with power, my strength is daily renewed, and my wife and I go on like two happy pilgrims, leaning upon our beloved. O help us to adore and praise free grace. We salute all the conference and trustees, and every particular choir, and the societies in every place, “Grace, mercy and peace be multiplied upon them, from God our father, and from the Lord Jesus Christ.” To his tender mercy do I commit thee and them, and am, my very dear C――,

Yours most affectionately in Christ Jesus,

G. W.

P. S. My dear wife cordially salutes you and all.

LETTER DLXX.

To Mr. J. S. in London.

Piscataqua, March 12, 1745.

I Wrote to you last week, and have sent you by Capt. Darling two letters, and a box. This comes by a young gentleman that expects to return to South-Carolina by August next. By him I send you one of each sort of the pamphlets that I have published here. I would have them sent to Scotland as soon as may be. My wife has sent you a few lines in one of my letters. We are more than happy! O grace! grace!—I trust it is so with you. America is pleasanter and pleasanter every day. I expect Mr. Habersham hourly. The door for preaching opens wider and wider. O my dear friend, I could tell thee what would rejoice thy heart, wast thou here. But I have little time to write. I am now going to prepare my sermons for the press: And am also writing another journal. You shall have them the first opportunity. Our tender love awaits all dear friends. As often as possible, you and others shall hear from, my dear friend, &c.

G. W.

LETTER DLXXI.

On board Capt. Grant, bound from Charles-Town to Philadelphia, May 2, 1745.

My very dear, dear Brother H――,

HOW do you find your heart these trying, sifting, purging times? I hope you are enabled to joy in God, and are made more than conqueror through his love. It has given me some concern that I could not write to you oftner: but Jesus knows my heart has been with you; and I have not failed to pray for the preservation of the tossed ark. ♦Antinomianism, I find, begins to shew its head and stalk abroad: may the glorious Redeemer cause it to hide its head again, and prevent his children’s spirits being imbittered against each other. I am glad to hear the Welsh brethren continue steady: and that amongst our English friends, Antinomianism seems only to be speculative; this is a great evil, but not so great as when it affects the practice, and leads the people of God unwarily into licentiousness. The late outward troubles, I hope will do good, and put a stop to the many disputes and various sects which, like so many hydra’s, always spring up when the Lord suffers false principles to abound. I expect to hear that Jesus has made thee immoveable like a wall of brass, held as a lion, but meek as a lamb. Blessed be his name, he continues to be very kind to us: we have been six months in these parts, and are now going northwards for the summer season. The Orphan-house is in a promising way. My temporal affairs begin to be settled; and I am blessed substantially to many souls. Jesus, I trust, has given me a more gospel-heart; and causes many of my professed most imbittered enemies to be at peace with me. I know you will help me to praise him, and beg him to continue to stand by a poor unworthy creature, who simply desires to spend and be spent for the good of precious and immortal souls. You’ll remember me to your dear wife, and all our Welsh brethren, in the most endearing manner: we frequently talk of, and pray for them; and don’t despair of seeing them once more in the flesh. My dear wife loves them exceedingly, and warms her heart often by reflecting on past times. Wishing that grace, mercy, and peace may be multiplied upon you all, I subscribe myself, my very dear brother,

Ever, ever thine in Jesus,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXII.

To Mrs. ――.

Boston, July 29, 1745.

Dear Madam,

YOU will be surprized to hear that a messenger of the prince of peace, especially such a weak creature as I am, should beat up to arms. No doubt you have judged me, as well you may; but providence seemed to force me to it. You have now heard of the Cape-Breton expedition, which was carried on and finished with the greatest secrecy and expedition here, before it could be scarcely known to you at home. Worthy Colonel P―― was fixed upon to command. The day before he accepted of the commission, he purposed to dine with me to ask my advice. I told him, “that I hoped if he did undertake it, he would beg of the Lord God of armies to give him a single eye; that the means proposed to take Louisburgh, in the eye of human reason, were no more adequate to the end, than the sounding of rams horns to blow down Jericho; that the eyes of all would be upon him; and if he should not succeed in the intended enterprize, the widows and orphans of the slain soldiers would be like lions robbed of their whelps; but if it pleased God to give him success, envy would not suffer him to take the glory, and therefore he should take great care that his views were disinterested, and then I doubted not, if providence really called him, he would find his strength proportioned to the day, and would return more than conqueror.” He thanked me, and his Lady having given her free consent, he commenced general. The sound now was to arms! to arms! new recruits were eagerly sought after, and my worthy friend Mr. S―― was appointed one of the commissaries. Being at his house, he told me one evening that he was preparing the flag, and that I must give him a motto, and that the people must know it too. I absolutely refused, urging that it would be acting out of character; he replied, that the expedition, he believed, was of God, and that if I did not encourage it, many of the serious people would not inlist. I still refused; he desired me to consider, and sleep upon it, and to give him my answer in the morning. I retired, I prayed, I slept; and upon his renewing his request in the morning, I told him, that since he was so urgent, and as I did not know but divine providence might intend to give us Louisburgh, therefore he might take this motto. Nil desperandum Christo duce. Upon this, great numbers inlisted, and before their embarkation, their officers desired me to give them a sermon: I preached from these words: “As many as were distressed, as many as were discontented, as many as were in debt, came to David, and he became a captain over them.” Officers, soldiers, and others attended. I spiritualized the subject, and told them how distressed sinners came to Jesus Christ the Son of David; and in my application exhorted the soldiers to behave like the soldiers of David, and the officers to act like David’s worthies; then, I made no manner of doubt, but we should receive good news from Cape-Breton. After this, I preached to the general himself, who asked me if I would not be one of his chaplains: I told him, “I should think it an honour, but believed, as I generally preached three times a day in various places to large congregations I could do my King, my country, and my God, more service, by stirring up the people to pray, and thereby strengthen his and his soldiers hands.” Through divine grace, I was enabled to persist in this practice for some weeks; but at last news arrived that the case was desperate. Letter upon letter came from one officer and another to those who planned this expedition, and did not know the strength of the fortress. I smiled, and told my friends, that I believed now we should have Louisburgh;—that all having confessed their helplessness, God would now reveal his arm, and make our extremity his opportunity. I was not disappointed of my hope; for one day having taken a weeping leave of dear Boston, and being about to preach a few miles out of the town, news was brought that Louisburgh was taken. Numbers flocked with great joy from all quarters, and I immediately preached to them a thanksgiving sermon from these words: “By this I know that thou favourest me, since thou hast not permitted mine enemies to triumph over me.” Here ends, dear Madam, my beating to arms. It is left to you, to judge as you please of, dear Madam,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

Postscript. I forgot to tell you, to the honour of worthy Madam P――, that during the time of the expedition, at her desire, I preached in the General’s house, and took the liberty before sermon, to ask her, how she came to give up the General? She answered, “That it was God who enabled her to do it for his glory, and her country’s good, and that now the General was gone, she had the pleasing reflection, that thro’ divine mercy, home had never been made so disagreeable to him by her conduct, as to make him wish to be gone.”

LETTER DLXXIII.

To Mrs. L――.

Philadelphia, August 26, 1746.

Honoured Mother,

WHETHER your affections are abated to me or not, (which one would imagine by your not writing in two years) yet duty, love, and gratitude oblige me to write to her, to whom, under God, I owe my being brought into the world. I am glad to find by a letter from Mr. Syms, dated last March, that you was well, at least I hoped so, because I heard nothing to the contrary. May the Father of mercies, and God of all consolation, grant that your latter end may greatly increase! Whether you ever see me or not any more, you need not be anxious concerning me.—That God whom I serve in the gospel of his dear Son, is exceeding good and gracious to me and mine. We have all things pertaining to life and godliness. Many offers are daily made me; but as yet the Lord Jesus keeps me from catching at the golden bait. Favour is given to me in the sight of the rich and great, and the door for my usefulness opens wider and wider. I love to range in the American woods, and sometimes think I shall never return to England any more. I was never better in health, take all together. My dear wife would send you a few lines, but she is weak by reason of a miscarriage about four days ago. I send you most dutiful respects for her, and praying the Lord of all Lords continually to lift up the light of his blessed countenance upon your dear soul, I subscribe myself, honoured mother,

Your most dutiful, though unworthy son,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXIV.

To the Rev. Mr. Z――.

Bohemia, (Maryland) Oct. 8, 1746.

Rev. and dear Sir,

I Took the freedom some months ago to send you a letter, wherein was inclosed a letter for Professor Frank, both which I hope came safe to hand, and were accepted in love. Since that, I have been travelling and ranging the woods, in the service of the best of Masters, who makes his work more pleasant to me every day. I trust that the time for favouring this and the neighbouring southern provinces is come. Every where almost, the door is opened for preaching; great numbers flock to hear; and the power of an ascended Saviour attends the word. It is surprizing, how the Lord causes prejudices to subside, and makes my formerly most bitter enemies to be at peace with me. O Rev. Sir, help me to praise him, whose mercy endureth for ever! I doubt not but he has been wonderfully good to you, and supports you under a feeble tottering tabernacle. The prayers of me and mine are always for you, because we honour and love you in our common head, the blessed Jesus. Be pleased, when you write, to present my most dutiful and affectionate respects to the Professor, and Mr. Ulspurgher. I have had some sweet times with several of the Lutheran ministers at Philadelphia. I love them dearly. Mr. Drisezler does bravely at Frederica. Mr. Boltzius and his collegue I hear are well. By and by, I trust, Georgia will lift up its drooping head.—All is well at the Orphan-house. I am, Rev. and very dear Sir,

Your most affectionate, though unworthy younger brother and servant in Christ,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXV.

To Mr. H―― H――.

Anapolis, (Maryland,) Nov. 8, 1746.

My very dear, dear Brother,

I Just now received a wished-for packet from England, in which are two or three letters from you. My dear fellow pilgrim will exceedingly rejoice at the receipt of them. She is gone forward with a Boston young lady towards Georgia.—I hear they traverse the woods bravely.—I wrote to you very lately.—I can only send you a few loving lines now.—I am just setting out.—Lately I have been in seven counties in Maryland, and preached with abundant success.—Our Lord gives me health, and his work (O free grace!) prospers in my unworthy hands. I shall consider of the calls sent me to return to my native country.—My tender love to all.—I am, my very dear man,

Ever yours whilst

G. W.

LETTER DLXXVI.

To a friend at the Tabernacle, London.

Anapolis, November 8, 1746.

My very dear Brother,

JUST now I have received your kind letter with some others, but have not time to read them all, being just setting out from this place. I shall consider of your loud call, and pray our Lord to direct me.—Poor English friends! May Jesus heal their divisions! Courage, my dear brother—Land is in sight—Ere long we shall sail into the haven of eternal rest.—The harvest is great here. I have lately been in seven counties in Maryland, and preached to great congregations of people with great power.—I have now a journey of seven hundred miles before me.—My tender love to all. God willing, you shall hear again shortly from,

Ever yours in our triumphant Jesus,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXVII.

To Mr. H―― H――.

Hanover county, (Virginia) Nov. 16, 1746.

My very dear Brother,

ABOUT a week ago I had the pleasure of receiving a long letter from you, which I immediately answered at Anapolis.—That you wrote to my dear wife is gone to her, and I suppose will rejoice her exceedingly.—She is well, and enjoys much of God.—I was glad to find that the Tabernacle was given up to your care.—Whether its breaches are yet repaired, or whether it be entirely fallen down, I know not.—I suppose when I come to England, I shall have all to begin again.—It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good.—The account of dear brother H――’s trial affected me much. I rejoice that he comes bright out of the furnace of affliction. I salute him and all my dear friends most tenderly.—Sometimes affection works strong, and I almost determine to come over.—But the cloud does not seem to move that way as yet.—However, my eyes are to the Lord.—Whenever his providence points out the way, the language of my heart is, “Lo I come.”—I wrote to brother H―― J―― and A―― lately, and since have received their kind letters.—I have lately been in seven counties in Maryland, and ere long think to preach in as many in this province.—There is a sweet stirring among the dry bones.—I have a thousand tender things to say, but time will not permit.—Well, my dear dear man, heaven is at hand;—there we shall have talk enough.—O let us take as many souls with us to that blessed place as we can.—Blessed be God, my soul springs with fresh desires to hunt after poor straying sheep, which Jesus has purchased with his dear heart’s blood.—O that I may begin now to do something for him, who hath done and suffered so much for me! But I can no more.—I am lost, I am quite overcome when I think of this.—Lord, I believe and worship!—Pray remember me to all most tenderly.—Remember me before the Lord as the chief of sinners, but, my very dear brother,

Ever, ever yours,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXVIII.

To a friend in London.

Bethesda, Dec. 24, 1746.

My dear Brother,

I Thank you heartily for your very kind letter, which I now snatch a few moments to answer. The account you gave of things, made me mourn that they were in so bad a situation, and at the same time I could not help rejoicing they were no worse: You and all that attended on my preaching, and had opportunities to converse with me privately, cannot be ignorant how many hints I gave of what has happened. It might have been foreseen and spoken of without a spirit of prophecy, and consequently did not so much surprise me when I found it came to pass; but I trust the storm is now blown over, and that the little flock will enjoy a sweet calm. O that your eyes may be looking towards and waiting on the blessed Jesus: from him alone can come your salvation, he will be better to you than a thousand Whitefields.—I am afraid you are too desirous of having me with you; and indeed I long to see you and my other dear christian friends, but America seems to be my scene of action for some time. The harvest is great in many places, and the labourers are very few. I am resolved in the strength of Jesus to range more and more; hunting for souls is a delightful work, and I am ashamed that I do no more. O my dear man, pray for me; indeed I do for you and yours.—I am glad the Lord has appeared for you; he never fails those that put their trust in him; only remember, “In the world, and yet not of it,” is the real christian’s motto.—That Jesus may continually lift up the light of his blessed countenance upon you, give you and yours all peace and joy in believing, is the earnest prayer of, my dear man,

Your very affectionate friend, and servant for Jesus sake,

G. W.

P. S. My tender tender love to all enquiring friends; my dear yoke-fellow joins heartily: we are happy in Jesus, and happy in one another.

LETTER DLXXIX.

Bethesda, Dec. 24, 1746.

My dear Brother,

I Must not let your kind letter which I received a few days ago lie long unanswered. And now what shall I say? why that I would have you comfort yourself with this promise, “That all things shall work (nay do work) for good to those that love God.”—Blessed be God for that little, that great word ALL.—Could we always act faith upon that, nothing could move us.—It is this promise that makes me now to rejoice in the midst of all the tribulations that has befallen my dear Tabernacle friends.—For ere long you shall sing,

――――O happy Rod!

That brought us nearer to our God!

Courage, therefore, my brother, courage.—The Lord will yet uphold you with his right hand.—Only live near to Jesus, and let the language of your heart be, “Lord, let me know myself and thee!” All trials are sent for these two ends, that we may be better acquainted with the dear Lord Jesus, and with our own wicked hearts.—That you may increase in this knowledge more and more, is the earnest prayer of

Your affectionate friend, and servant in Christ,

G. W.

P. S. My dear wife joins in sending hearty salutations to all.—I must refer you to other letters for news.

LETTER DLXXX.

To Mr. A――.

Bethesda, Dec. 29, 1746.

My very dear Brother A――,

SINCE I wrote to you from Maryland, I have received two or three kind letters from you, in which I have had a particular account how affairs stand in England.—I bless God for the gracious assistance he has been pleased to afford you, and pray for a continuance and increase of it to your dear soul ever more and more—O my very dear brother, it is no small favour to be kept steady and humbly bold for the glorious Emmanuel in a cloudy dark day.—This honour the Lord Jesus has conferred on you—May his past goodness strengthen your faith, and encourage you to trust in him amidst all future trials!—I say future trials—for we must never expect an entire cessation of arms, till we bow down our heads and give up the ghost—Our trials will be changed in order to discover to us the remainder of corruption in the heart; but they will not, they must not be entirely removed—The captain or our salvation was made perfect through sufferings, and so must we—Be strong therefore, my brother, in the grace which is in Christ Jesus—Endure afflictions—make full proof of thy ministry—Truth is great, and will prevail—Fail not writing—Other letters will acquaint you with particulars about me.—Continue in prayer, and it may be, sooner than your expectations, you may see

Your very unworthy, but affectionate brother and servant in Jesus Christ,

G. W.

P. S. My dear yoke-fellow joins in sending most cordial salutations to you, yours, and all that love the precious Christ.

Charles-Town, Jan. 21, 1747.

Since I wrote the above I have had some sweet seasons at Bethesda: I intend staying here some days, and will redeem what time I can to write to friends—May grace, mercy and peace be multiplied upon them all: Amen and Amen.—My dear wife and family are well—God willing, we move northward in the beginning of March.

LETTER DLXXXI.

To Mr. H―― J――.

Charles-Town, Jan. 23, 1747.

My very dear Brother,

I Owe you much love, and though I have written to you more than once, yet I look upon myself as indebted to you still.—I therefore now sit down to answer the kind letter which you sent my dear yokefellow.—She is now at Georgia, and having not as yet seen it, she cannot answer it herself.—Blessed be God she is well, and prospers both in soul and body—We talk of you often, and hope yet to live and have our hearts warmed with our English and Welch friends ere we go hence, and are no more seen. At present the cloud seems to hang over the American parts.—The Lord Jesus is pleased to give me great access to multitudes of souls, and I hope has withal given me as strong an inclination as ever, to go out and preach to them the unsearchable riches of his dying love. I lately came from Bethesda, and found my family well, happy in Jesus, and happy in one another.—Our Lord bowed the heavens several times and came down among us, in the power of his eternal Spirit.—In the beginning of March, I purpose, God willing, to set out for the northward again, and shall not lose any opportunity of writing, that offers in my way. I am sorry to hear the leaven of Antinomianism is not yet purged out, and that animosities are not yet ceased.—I can say nothing at this distance, but pray that the God of peace and love may direct and rule all my dear friends hearts. You will remember me to all in the most tender manner.—Indeed I omit no opportunity of sending.—I pray for you all continually, and begging a continued interest in all your prayers, I subscribe myself, my very dear brother,

Yours most affectionately in Christ Jesus,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXXII.

To a generous Benefactor unknown.

Charles-Town, March, 15, 1747.

WHOEVER you are that delight to imitate the divine beneficence in doing good to your fellow-creatures when they know not of it, I think it my duty, in behalf of the poor orphans committed to my care, to send you a letter of thanks for your kind, generous and opportune benefaction.—That God who has opened your heart to give so bountifully, will as bountifully reward you.—I trust you have contributed towards the promoting an institution, which has, and I believe will redound much to the Redeemer’s glory.—Blessed be God, I hope I can say, that Bethesda was never in better order than it is now, in all probability taking root downwards, and bearing fruit upwards.—Since my arrival there this winter, I have opened a Latin school, and have several children of promising abilities that have begun to learn.—One little orphan, who this time twelvemonth could not read his letters, has made a considerable proficiency in his Accidence.—The blessed spirit has been striving with several of the children’s infant hearts, and I hope ere long to see some ministers sent forth from that despised place called Georgia. It is true, the constitution of that colony is very bad, and it is impossible for the inhabitants to subsist themselves without the use of slaves. But God has put it into the hearts of my South-Carolina friends, to contribute liberally towards purchasing a plantation and slaves in this province; which I purpose to devote to the support of Bethesda.—Blessed be God, the purchase is made.—I last week bought, at a very cheap rate, a plantation of six hundred and forty acres of excellent land, with a good house, barn, and out-houses, and sixty acres of ground ready cleared, fenced and fit for rice, corn, and every thing that will be necessary for provisions. One negroe has been given me.—Some more I purpose to purchase this week.—An overseer is put upon the plantation, and I trust a sufficient quantity of provision will be raised this year.—The family at Bethesda consists of twenty-six.—When my arrears are discharged; I purpose to increase the number.—I hope that time will soon come; and that he who has begun, will go on to stir up the friends of Zion to help me, not only to discharge the arrears, but also to bring the plantation lately purchased to such perfection, that if I should die shortly, Bethesda may yet be provided for.—As you have been such a benefactor, I thought proper to give you this particular account, that you may see it is not given in vain.—I could enlarge, but have only room to subscribe myself, generous friend,

Your most obliged servant,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXXIII.

To Mrs. B.

Bohemia, (Maryland) Sunday night, April 26, 1747.

Very dear Mrs. B.

IF you will promise not to be sorry, that you set out so soon, I will inform you, that through the singular goodness of a loving Redeemer, we reached Bohemia last night, after a pleasant journey of about five weeks from Charles-Town. To-day, I trust we have enjoyed some taste of that love, which I pray the Lord of all Lords to shed abroad abundantly in your dear heart by the Holy Ghost. You are entered upon a scene that will call for more than ordinary assistance. Jesus, who himself was once in a wilderness, knows how to succour, support and comfort you. “Out of the eater he can bring forth meat; Out of the strong he can and will bring forth sweetness.” My poor prayers do and will follow you. I trust you will return loaded with experience; and however your journey may turn out in respect to your body, I am persuaded it will be for the benefit of your soul. To tell you how bountifully the glorious Emmanuel hath dealt with us, would fill a volume. He hath indeed done wonders for us,—some of which I hope to relate to you, when I see you face to face. After two days abode here, I purpose, God willing, to take a three weeks circuit in hunting after Maryland sinners. In Virginia, for the present, the door is shut; but I believe it will be open in the fall to more advantage. I have no thoughts of visiting it this spring. The cloud moves another way. However, night and day I shall remember you in your little hut, praying that you may meet with agreeable company to join in saying, “Lord Jesus, all my springs are in thee.” that you may be continually enabled to believe on him, and find him to be a well of water springing up to life eternal, is the hearty prayer of, very dear Mrs. B――,

Your very affectionate, sympathizing friend, and willing servant for Jesus’s sake,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXXIV.

To the Rev. Mr. F――.

Bohemia, April 28, 1747.

Rev. and very dear Brother,

WITH this, I send you a packet from your brother, whom I left well and happy at Bethesda about six weeks ago. As I came along I saw Mr. Davis. He is licensed, as are the four houses in Virginia; but there is a proclamation issued out against all itinerants. Nothing can be done to the purpose, but all will be in the utmost confusion, unless some proper person is always resident among the awakened souls. Pray acquaint your brethren of this. How do you all? Has Jesus warmed your hearts this last cold Winter, and kept you from spiritual frost? He has been very gracious to us southward; and as we came along, “the wilderness seemed to blossom like a rose.” About five weeks ago, we left Charles-Town, and reached Bohemia last Saturday evening. We came from Hanover county to this place in five days. I am now dispatching my private affairs, and after about three weeks itinerant preaching in these parts, I purpose, God willing, to go towards Philadelphia. You will remember me in a particular manner to the young students.—They have a continual share in my poor prayers; and the continuance of theirs and yours is earnestly desired by, my very dear Sir,

Yours most affectionately in Christ,

G. W.

LETTER DLXXXV.

To the Honourable F. W――, Esq.

New-Town, (Maryland) May 6, 1747.

Honoured Sir,

A Few days past I had the pleasure of yours, dated November 28th. I embrace this first opportunity of returning you my hearty thanks for the unmerited kindness and affection expressed therein. May the Redeemer give me an humble heart, and grant that all favours conferred upon me by instruments, may lead me nearer to him, the source and fountain of all! But what shall I say to dear New-England’s sorrowful circumstances? It pities me to hear that she is still lying in the dust. However, this has generally been the case: trying and distressing times have generally followed awakening and converting times. May Jesus second them with another alarm of his holy spirit, and then all will be well. Glad would I be to come and offer myself once more to do New-England service; but I am afraid that many ministers and the heads of the people would not bear it. However, was this my only reason, it would soon be answered.—But here are thousands in these Southern parts (as you have observed, honoured Sir), that scarce ever heard of redeeming grace and love. Is it not my duty as an itinerant, since other places have had their calls and awakening seasons, to go where the gospel has not been named? Those who think I want to make a party, or to disturb churches, do not know me. I am willing to hunt in the woods after sinners; and, according to the present temper of my mind, could be content that the name of George Whitefield should die, if thereby the name of my dear Redeemer could be exalted. Indeed I am amazed that he employs me at all. But what shall we say? He hateth putting away, therefore I am not consumed. Grace, sovereign free grace! shall be all my song. Last Winter’s mercies have renewed my obligations to extol free grace. I could enlarge, but several things forbid. In heaven, dear Sir, we shall have no interruptions. That you may be supported through all the fatigues of your journey thither, and with all your dear family, at length arrive at the land of eternal rest, is the earnest prayer of, honoured Sir,

Yours, &c.

G. W.

Postscript. Fearing I shall not have an opportunity of seeing you, before you embark for England, it being uncertain whether your honour will be at Philadelphia upon my coming there, I think it my duty, honoured Sir, in this way to wish you, your honoured Lady and little Miss, an extraordinary good voyage. May the God of the seas as well as the God of the dry land, be your convoy and pilot! May you and all who sail with you, be preserved from the hand of the enemy, and kept in perpetual peace and safety! As God shall enable me, my poor prayers shall follow you. They are your due, honoured Sir. The Pensylvanians I am sure will soon regret the loss of you, and all the friends of liberty and loyalty must be constrained to wish you well. O that the great Governor of the universe may so bless you with his holy spirit, that you may bring forth much fruit in old age! O that you may hear the great Judge of quick and dead salute you at the last day, with a “Well done, thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!” This, honoured Sir, is the native language of my heart. As I trust you think me sincere, be pleased to accept it, as the best acknowledgment I can make you and your beloved consort, for all the kindnesses you have been pleased to heap on, honoured Sir,