_To John F――――, an Orphan._
_On board the Mary and Ann, July 27, 1741._
_Dear John_,
I Willingly fulfil your request, and sit down to write you a line or
two. I am glad you begin to see the wickedness of your own heart. You
cannot conceive what a mystery of iniquity is hid therein. The more
you see it, the more you will find the want of a saviour, and adore
GOD for giving his dear Son to die for sinners. There was once a young
man, named _John_, who leaned on the Saviour’s bosom, and was his
particular favourite. What if you should be thus highly honoured.
Would it not be an amazing instance of love and condescension? And
what doth the Saviour do less, for all that feel themselves poor, lost,
undone sinners? Nay, does he not do for them infinitely more? Yes, he
does. Come to him, therefore, by faith, and he shall embrace you in
the arms of his mercy, clothe you with his righteousness, sanctify
you by his spirit, guide you by his counsel, and after death receive
you up into glory. Look up, then, and never rest till you have it.
Conviction is not conversion. But you know who has promised not to
quench the smoaking flax, or break the bruised reed. That this promise
may be fulfilled in your soul, is the hearty prayer of
Your sincere friend,
_G. W._