Wesley Corpus

MY DEAR BROTHER, -- I am glad the house is opened in Marlborough Street, [The house had been a Lutheran church; but they removed to Poolbeg Street about 1725. See W.H.S. v. 68; and letter of Jan. 18 to Moore.] and that the work of God still prospers among you, particularly among the poor soldiers. [See letter of April 6.] You send me likewise good news concerning George Dice. [Dice had retired in 1786. See letter of Jan. 14 of that year.] Nurse him tenderly, and he will come to good. Dr. Coke will not fail to rejoice over him. Not only the devices of the Evangelical Society, but no weapon formed against us shall prosper. Is Bethesda full on the Sunday evenings or half full on week days If it had been in full union with the Methodists, I am inclined to think it would have prospered. But it was not likely to stand alone -- I do not see how we can go further than to be friends at a distance. I have referred to Dr. Coke himself in what manner he shall proceed in Dublin, and whatever he and you agree upon I shall not condemn. With my tender love to my dear Nancy, nay, and Becky, [Moore's sister. See letters of Jan. 18 and June 7.] I am, dear Henry, Your affectionate friend and brother. To Jane Bisson NEAR LONDON, February 20, 1788. MY DEAR SISTER, -- Your last letter gave me a very sensible pleasure. Indeed, so do all your letters. And I cannot but acknowledge every letter I receive from you unites you to me more than I was united before. There is something in your spirit that does me good, that softens and quickens me too: but at the same time that melancholy thought occurs, that you are at so great a distance from me, and that it is doubtful whether I shall ever have the satisfaction of taking you by the hand again. Yet I shall, if it be the will of Him that orders all things well, who orders all for our profit, that we may be partakers of His holiness. And we know He cannot deny to them that fear Him any manner of thing that is good. Your speaking of trials makes me almost ready to cry out in the words of our poet,