_To the Same._
_London, June 10, 1769._
_My very dear old Friend_,
HOW glad was I to find, that you could write so long a letter! Who
knows but the withered hand may be yet stretched out? “Abba, Father!”
all things are possible with thee! Grant it, if it be thy blessed will,
for JESUS CHRIST’s sake! This leaves me a little recovering from my
late indisposition, consequently it leaves me singing, “He will not
always be chiding, neither will he keep his anger for ever.” How truly,
how incomparably great, will these loving corrections make us in a
future state? Then shall we sing without sorrowing,
O happy, happy rod,
That brought us hither to our GOD!
In patience, therefore, may we possess our souls! Yet a little while,
and he that cometh will come, and will not tarry. GOD be praised, that
your dear nurse and yoke-fellow holds out so well. Mr. _M――――s_ tells
me she is brave. Mr. _D――――n_ dines with me, at his house, on _Friday_;
both will then be remembered. The covenant of grace was made from
eternity. _Hallelujah, Hallelujah!_ Come LORD, come!
Ever yours, &c. &c. in our JESUS,
_G. W._