_To the Reverend Mr. T――――._
_Edinburgh, September 9, 1758._
_My very dear Friend_,
IT is strange that you and I cannot be more together. I believe Satan
doth not like it: ere long we shall get out of his reach. In heaven we
shall enjoy our GOD and each others company for ever. O that I moved
faster towards it! Complain not. I am the drone, the dwarf, the all
that is worthless and unworthy; but JESUS’ grace is free and infinite.
He owned my feeble labours at _Glasgow_. Indeed we had good seasons:
some quite remarkable. I hear of another clergyman lately awakened in
the north of _England_. Something uncommon is upon the carpet. LORD,
prepare us for whatever thou hast prepared for us. _Wednesday_ next is
_execution-day_; I mean, I am to take my leave. I now bid you and yours
farewel. GOD bless you. Forget not to pray, my very dear friend, for,
Ever yours, &c.
_G. W._