Page:The Works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A. (1771 Vol 1).djvu/443

 for our ingratitude, unfruitfulness, pride, selfishness, and insensibility of the blessings we enjoy. Last night I went to sleep quite angry, but chiefly with myself.—I saw that I had received much, and did so little for my, and , that I could feelingly smite upon my breast, lay my head upon my pillow, and close my eyes with these words, " be merciful to me a sinner?" And to-day, what have I seen and felt, yea what do I now feel? My soul is swallowed up in . His presence is filling my soul, and renewing my bodily strength. Here is free grace, my dear brother. Was you here, I think I could now warm your heart with a lecture upon the unparalleled love of ; but time is short: blessed be, an eternity is before me, but "eternity too short to utter all his praise." I think I love you and yours unfeignedly, and rejoice that you enjoy sweet fellowship together. Glory be to, that you have gotten many living stones. Trust the great Redeemer, the all-wise contriver and perfecter of his spiritual temple, to put them together. I have been faulty in looking too much to foreign help, and despising that which had given me. When our was to feed the multitude, he would not create new bread, but multiplied the loaves that were already at hand. "Ye need not send them away, give ye them to eat," said he: so say I to my dear brethren at the tabernacle. "Work with the materials you have." In doing the work, will teach you how to do it.—Experience will grow up with the work itself. Thus hath dealt with me, and so he continues to deal. May his blessed spirit guide you all into all truth, and give you a right judgment in all things! I love to see the little child in others, though I see so little of it in my unworthy self. But I must not exceed; other business demands my attention. Write to me often about the state of the church. Mr. E's people rather run greater and greater lengths in misguided zeal. Our love to all. I intreat a continuance of your prayers, because the archers are shooting from every quarter at, dear brother C, Your poor weak brother in the kingdom and patience of, G. W.