_To the Reverend Mr. T――――._
_Edinburgh, July 12, 1759._
_My very dear Friend_,
IT is well there is a heaven to make amends for all our disappointments
here on earth. I long for a future state, where we shall all sit down
together, and converse for ever without the least interruption. I know
this will find you looking towards, and waiting for the coming of that
day of GOD. It is a blessed thing to be kept alive in a dead time.
It is a dead time in _Scotland_ indeed. Little or no stirring among
the dry bones. It is not so in _London_, and several other parts of
_England_. LORD JESUS, revive thy work in the midst of the years!
You will pray that the fatal languor may not take hold of my already
too languid heart. I would fain be found of my LORD with my loins
girded, and my lamp burning. A storm seems to be at hand. JESUS is our
hiding-place.
Blest is faith that trusts his power,
Blest are saints that wait his hour:
Haste, great Conqueror, bring it near;
Let the glorious close appear.
O that some may be awakened to prepare for that awful hour! On _Monday_,
GOD willing, I go to blow the gospel trumpet at _Glasgow_. LORD, what
am I, that I should be one of thy run-abouts! If this be to be vile,
LORD, make me more vile! Adieu. Hearty love and most cordial respects
await your whole self. Follow me with your prayers, and as the LORD
JESUS enables, they shall be returned by, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common LORD,
_G. W._