“GEORGE WHITEFIELD.” Unfortunately, Whitefield’s troubles were not confined to Scotland and Georgia. Methodist affairs in Wales were far from being in a satisfactory state. Hence the following letter to Howell Harris:―― “CAMBUSLANG, _August 26, 1742_. “MY VERY DEAR BROTHER,――I was glad, last night, to receive your letter. I love your simple, honest heart. “The account, sent with this, will shew you how often I have been enabled to preach; but with what efficacy and success, pen cannot describe. The glorious Redeemer seems to be advancing from congregation to congregation, carrying all before Him. “I am opposed on every side. The Messrs. Erskines’ people have kept a fast for me, and given out that all the work now in Scotland is only delusion, and by the agency of the devil. “What you said about poor Wales affected me. I lay upon my face this day, and, for some time, pleaded, with groans unutterable, for direction in that and several other matters of great consequence. I fear my dear brother thinks too highly of me; but, if Christ is pleased to honour me so far, I shall be glad to help the brethren in Wales. I am sorry to hear there have been such divisions; but dividing times generally precede settling times.” In the midst of all these altercations, it is refreshing to be able to introduce one of Whitefield’s filial outpourings to his mother, who was now an inmate of Whitefield’s house in Bristol. “CAMBUSLANG, _August 26, 1742_. “HONOURED MOTHER,――I rejoice to hear that you have been so long under my roof. Blessed be God that I have a house for my honoured mother to come to! You are heartily welcome to anything it affords, as long as you please. I am of the same mind now, as formerly. If need were, these hands should administer to your necessities. I had rather want myself, than you should. I shall be highly pleased when I come to Bristol, and find you sitting in your youngest son’s house. O that I may sit with you in the house not made with hands, eternal, in the heavens! “My honoured mother, I am happier and happier every day. If any at Bristol enquire after me, please to tell them, I am well both in body and soul, and desire them to help me to praise free and sovereign grace. O that my dear mother may be made an everlasting monument of it! How does my heart burn with love and duty to you! Gladly would I wash your aged feet, and lean upon your neck, and weep and pray until I could pray no more. With this, I send you a thousand dutiful salutations, and ten thousand hearty and most humble thanks, for all the pains you underwent in conceiving, bringing forth, nursing, and bringing up your most unworthy, though most dutiful son, till death. “GEORGE WHITEFIELD.”