“The captain is exceedingly civil, and I have my passage free; but all I have been able to do, in respect to religious duties, is to read the Church prayers once every evening, and twice on Sundays. I have not preached yet. This may spare my lungs, but it grieves my heart. I long to be ashore, if it were for no other reason. “Besides, I can do little in respect to writing. You may guess how it is, when I tell you we have four gentlewomen in the cabin. However, they have been very civil, and I believe my being on board has been serviceable. I have finished my abridgment of Mr. Law’s ‘Serious Call,’ which I have endeavoured to _gospelize_. Yesterday, I made an end of revising all my Journals. I purpose to have a new edition before I see America. “Alas, alas! In how many things have I judged and acted wrong! I have been too rash and hasty in giving characters, both of places and persons. Being fond of Scripture language, I have often used a style too apostolical; and, at the same time, I have been too bitter in my zeal. Wild-fire has been mixed with it: and I frequently wrote and spoke in my own spirit, when I thought I was writing and speaking by the assistance of the Spirit of God. I have, likewise, too much made impressions my rule of acting; and have published too soon, and too explicitly, what had been better told after my death. By these things, I have hurt the blessed cause I would defend, and have stirred up needless opposition. This has much humbled me, since I have been on board, and has made me think of a saying of Mr. Henry’s, ‘Joseph had more _honesty_ than he had _policy_, or he would never have told his dreams.’ “At the same time, I cannot but bless and praise that good and gracious God, who filled me with so much of His holy fire, and carried me, a poor weak youth, through such a torrent both of popularity and contempt, and set so many seals to my unworthy ministrations. I bless Him for ripening my judgment a little more, and for giving me to see and confess, and, I hope, in some degree, to correct and amend, some of my mistakes. If I have time before we land, I think to write a short account of what has happened for these seven years last past; and, when I get on shore, I purpose to revise and correct the first part of my Life.” All must admire this ingenuous confession. Never was the Latin proverb better illustrated than in the case of Whitefield: “Fas est ab hoste doceri.” In both mild and savage language, Whitefield had often been accused of such faults and errors; and now, when he has time to think, he honestly confesses them. Whitefield landed at Deal on June 30th, and six days afterwards arrived in London.[189] One of his first acts, when he stepped ashore, was to write the following hearty and loving letter “to the Rev. Mr. John or Charles Wesley.” “DEAL, _July, 1748_.