Page:The Works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A., late of Pembroke-College, Oxford, and Chaplain to the Rt. Hon. the Countess of Huntingdon (1771 Volume 2).djvu/437

 awakened at the Orphan-house about ten years ago. At Midsummer, Georgia is to be taken into the Government's hands. It will then be put on the same footing with the other provinces; and in all probability will be a flourishing province. I am come in the very best time. O what a blessed thing is it to follow blindfold! He hath enabled me once more to take the field. The fields seem as white as ever; and I never saw the Tabernacle so well attended. If should so direct me, would the middle of August not be too late to come to Edinburgh? I cannot well come before. Does Mr. R go directly for Charles-Town? How will he be paid for the Ossnaburghs he was so kind as to send over? I would fain send a few letters by him. My hearty love to him and his. Ten thousand thanks to you, for caring so friendly for my dear wife in my absence.—The will care for you and my other kind friends. She is pretty well, and joins in sending cordial respects and thanks.—My young man returns his. Letters from those you mention, will be very acceptable. I hope to write to several shortly. I must now away; but not before I have wished Mr. Gillespie joy. The Pope I find has turned Presbyterian. O this power, when got into wrong hands, what mischief does it occasion! "The reigns:"—that is enough for us. Adieu. My love to your honoured father, and all dear friends. Accept the same in the tenderest manner from, my dear Timothy, Yours most affectionately in our common, G. W.     LETTER DCCCCXV. To Mr. H.

My very dear Friend,      London, June 9, 1752.  I Have received and read your manuscripts; but for me to play the critic on them, would be like holding up a candle to the sun. However, before I leave town, I will just mark a few places as you desire, and then send the manuscripts to your brother. I foretell their fate: nothing but your scenery can screen you. Self will never bear to die, though slain in so genteel a manner, without shewing some resentment against its artful murderer. I am glad you have written to South-*