_To Mr. N――――._
_Portsmouth, June 23, 1753._
_Dear Sir_,
NOT want of love, but leisure, prevented my answering your kind letter
much sooner. As I lead a pilgrim life, have a weak body, and am almost
continually surrounded with a variety of trials and temptations, I
cannot write so frequently as I otherwise would choose to do. However,
my friends are always upon my heart and some time next month, I hope
to see you, amongst the rest of my _Edinburgh_ acquaintances, grown
in grace, and upon the full stretch for Him who bled, and groaned, and
died for us. If your trials are not over, and you have indeed entered
upon the field of battle, I wish you joy. Fear not, neither be dismayed.
_Nil desperandum Christo duce._ Let this be the language of your heart
and mine:
Give me strength, O GOD of power,
Then let winds blow or thunders roar;
Thy faithful witness will I be:
’Tis fix’d――I can do all through Thee.
I need not inform you, dear Sir, that our LORD hath chosen the weak
things of this world to confound the strong; and things that are not,
to bring to nought the things that are. If it was not so, what should
such a poor, weak, helpless wretch as I am do? In JESUS, and in him
alone, is all my strength and support found. Still he continues to
uphold me, and crown my feeble labours with success. In _Wales_,
_Gloucestershire_, and _Bristol_, we have lately felt his power; and in
our new Tabernacle at _London_, he hath also manifested forth his glory.
O for a good gale in the _North_! Who knows but we may see each other
some time the next month? I have thoughts of setting forwards from
_London_ next week. May the good LORD direct my goings in his way! You
must desire all of the hospitals, and in the society, and all my other
dear friends, to pray most earnestly for me. I retain my old name: I
am the chief of sinners, and less than the least of all saints, but for
CHRIST’s sake, dear Mr. _N――――_,
Their and your most affectionate
and willing friend and servant,
_G. W._