_To Mr. H._
_Oxon, Oct. 14, 1736._
_Dearest Sir_,
I Was agreeably detained, as you was pleased to term it, last
_Tuesday_, in reading your kind letter, and had I not been assisted
by the grace of GOD to receive every thing with an equal, undisturbed
mind, perhaps the contents of it might have given me some small
uneasiness. But religion quite changes the nature of man, and makes
us to receive all the dispensations of providence with resignation
and thankfulness. Of this, dearest Sir, I hope you have had an
experimental proof, in bearing up with courage and resolution under
those acute pains the Almighty was pleased to visit you with last
_Sunday_, and with which, perhaps, his infinite wisdom and goodness
may continue to visit you longer. My dear friend (if I mistake not)
used to say, he was afraid GOD did not love him, because he did not
chasten him. Behold then, now the hand of the LORD is upon you, not
so much to punish, as to purify your soul. Not in anger but in love.
Pray therefore in your easy intervals, that you may know, wherefore
the LORD contendeth with you, and that you may not come cankered out
of the furnace of affliction. Offer up every groan, every sigh, in
the name of your dying, risen Redeemer, and doubt not, but they will
be as prevalent as set times of prayer. Our being enabled to pray
when sickness comes on us, doubtless, is to teach us the necessity
of praying always, when we are in health. But, dear Mr. _H._ wants no
such lessons, or excitements, I believe, to prayer. Methinks I could
bear some of your pain for you, if that would give you comfort. But
as it is impossible, O let me never cease most earnestly to beseech my
heavenly Father, that he would sanctify this his fatherly correction
to you, and that the sense of your weakness may add strength to your
faith, and seriousness to your repentance. Poor Mr. _Pauncefoot_, I
find, is visited in a far more grievous manner. Dear good man, surely
the time of his dissolution (I should say of his coronation) draweth
near. See, dear Mr. _H._ through what tribulations we must enter into
glory. Be pleased to give my hearty love and thanks to him for his
last kind letter. Beg him not to cease praying for me, unworthy as I
am. And, I hope, I shall not be wanting in returning his kindness in
the same manner. But alas, I have nothing to depend on, but the merits
of a crucified Redeemer to have my poor petitions answered. But does
dear Mrs. _H._ complain of deadness and coldness in devotion? Alas
poor woman! let her not be disheartened. This is a complaint, which
all the children of GOD have made. And we must take a great deal of
pains with our hearts, must pray often and long, before we shall be
able to pray well. And the only way I can think of, to shame ourselves
out of deadness in prayer, is to censure and condemn, to humble and
bewail ourselves for it every time we go upon our knees, at least
every time we solemnly retire to converse with GOD. But why does dear
Mrs. _H._ so much as think of omitting but once the receiving of the
holy sacrament? Or if satan does put such thoughts in her head, why
does not she repel them with the utmost abhorrence? Alas! should the
devil gain his point here, would not the ridiculing world say, Mrs.
_H._ began to build, but had not wherewith to finish. I have seen too
many fatal instances of the inexpressible danger and sad consequences
of leaving off any one means of grace, not to encourage Mrs. _H._
stedfastly to persevere in the good way she has begun; and would
exhort her, in the name of the LORD JESUS CHRIST, to labour daily to
mortify and subdue her corruptions, not wilfully to indulge herself in
any ill habit, custom, or temper, and then assure herself, one time or
another, CHRIST will be made known unto her in breaking of bread. But
what shall I say, dear Sir, about Mr. _W._ &c. &c.? Alas! I find, they
are all in the gall of bitterness, in the very bondage of iniquity,
and all I can do, is to pity and pray for them. I find more and more,
that where true religion is wanting, there is confusion and every
evil work. But why is my honoured mother so solicitous about a few
paultry things, that will quickly perish? Why will she not come and
see her youngest son, who will endeavour to be a _Joseph_ to her,
before she dies? What makes my dear friend and his kind wife, give me
another invitation to _Gloucester_? Alas! have I not wearied and been
expensive enough to you already? I hope to send you, in a short time,
two guineas towards paying for Mr. _Henry_’s Exposition. I wish I
could spare more, but time will bring all things to pass. You see what
a large letter I have written to you to make amends for the many short
ones, I have sent lately. Though I believe you may say of mine, the
quite contrary to what I say of yours; the shorter the better. My due
respects to all friends, and believe me to be, in the utmost sincerity,
Dearest Sir,
Your and Mrs. _H._’s affectionate friend and humble servant,
_G. W._