Page:The Works of the Reverend George Whitefield, M.A. (1771 Vol 1).djvu/53

 *forted me on every occasion, most remarkably blessed my unworthy ministry on board the ship, sent us most delightful weather, and made us to ride as it were on the wings of the wind. We live in perfect love and harmony one with another. I know but little difference between sea and land, and have great reason to bless for sending me abroad. A grievous sickness has been sent amongst us, by which most of the ship have been chastened and corrected but only two given over unto death; and hath been so good to me, that, except for a little time after we sailed from Gibraltar, I have been in perfect health, and now satisfieth my mouth with good things, making me strong and lively as a young eagle. I have nothing to disturb my joy in, but the disorder of my passions. Were these once brought into a proper subjection to divine grace, O well would it be with me, and happy should I be. But so long as I am angry for trifles, and throw myself into needless disorders, so long must my heart be like the troubled sea, so long consequently must I be unhappy. Pray therefore, dear Mrs. H. that I may lay the ax of mortification to the root of my most darling corruptions, and since I have but little, if any thing, to disturb me without, O pray that I may meet with no disturbance from myself within. The farther particulars of my voyage, you will see in my journal, which I have sent to Mr. Hutton, and for the blessings contained therein, I beseech you to return most humble and hearty thanks. About Christmas next, willing, I purpose to come to England to take priests orders, and to return as soon as possible to Georgia. In the mean while, dear Mrs. H. let us strive to enter in at the strait gate, that we may be christians indeed, and know what it is truly to be born again from above, and to be renewed by the spirit in our minds. Remember me most affectionately to all friends. I am, Your's, &c. G. W.    LETTER XXXVIII. To Mr. .

Dear Mr. ,     On board the Whitaker, April 17, 1738.

TO assure you I do not forget you, I write to you, as yet, eight hundred miles off shore. Your honest heart has