_To Mr. S―――― S――――._
_Plymouth, June 5, 1761._
WILL not my very dear and valuable friend be glad to hear, that through
divine mercy I am somewhat improved in my health since my leaving
_London_. At _Bristol_ I grew sensibly better, but hurt myself by too
long journies to _Exeter_ and hither. However, blessed be GOD, I am
now recovered from my fatigue, and hope bathing will brace me up for
my glorious Master’s use again.
Strange, that a harp of thousand strings,
Should keep in tune so long!
The few times I have been enabled to preach, an infinitely
condescending Redeemer hath vouchsafed to breathe upon the word
preached. Who knows but I may get my wings again? Abba Father, all
things are possible with thee! I know who doth, and will pray for
me, even my very dear Mr. _S――――_, who hath already laid such great
obligations on
His most affectionate friend and very ready
servant in our glorious _Emmanuel_,
_G. W._