Chapter XLVII: Letter DXLIII: To the Same

_Birmingham, Dec. 27, 1743._

WANT of time, not of love, prevented my writing to you from _Gloucester_. Neither have I now leisure to be very particular. It is near eleven at night, and nature calls for rest. I have preached five times this day, and, weak as I am, through CHRIST strengthening me, I could preach five times more. I think I was scarce ever so happy before. Surprizing! how the LORD JESUS hath made way for me in these parts. I lose nothing by being quiet and leaving all to him. O was you here, what could I not tell you? The weather is just like Spring. That the day-spring from on high may visit your heart, till you rise to eternal perfect day, earnestly prays

Yours, &c.
_G. W._