_London, July 31, 1739._
OH that my head was water and my eyes fountains of tears, that I might
weep over my dear Mr. ――――. What? And has my familiar friend, who has
been dear to me as my own soul, has he taken part with, and gone back
to the enemy? Surely it cannot be!――And yet I must believe it.――But
if any one had told my dear friend, that he would have behaved thus,
would he not have cried out, “Is thy servant a dog that he should
do this?” Oh, my dear friend, I am in pain for you! Alas! who hath
bewitched you, that you should not obey the truth? You did run well;
who, or what hath hindered you? Not a fear of man, I hope; not a
desire of that praise, that cometh of man. I know the time when my
dear friend’s heart stood stedfast. I know the time when my dear
friend was willing to be accounted a fool for CHRIST’s sake, and chose
rather to suffer affliction with the people of GOD, than to enjoy the
pleasures of sin, of false politeness, for a season. And why should I
despair of my dear friend now? No, I know JESUS CHRIST was set for the
falling and rising again of many in _Israel_. Our LORD, I trust, has
prayed for you, and I hope your faith will not totally fail. Forgive
me, I must stop and sigh: GOD forbid I should be called, at the great
day, to say, that my dear Mr. ―――― put his hand to the plough and
turned back unto perdition. Good GOD! the thought strikes me as though
a dart was shot through my liver. Return, return. My dear friend, I
cannot part from you for ever. Do not speak peace to your soul, when
there is no peace. Do not turn factor for the devil. Do not prejudice
or hurt my brother, and thereby add to the grief you have already
occasioned.
Your most affectionate friend and servant in CHRIST,
_G. W._