_To Mr. R―――― K――――n._
_Haverford-west, May 31, 1767._
_My dear dear Friend_,
YOUR spiritual mind medley was very agreeable. I could wish for a
second dose, but know not what direction to give about sending it. My
rout is not yet fixed. I am just come from my field throne. Thousands
and thousands attended by eight in the morning. Life and light seemed
to fly all around. On _Tuesday_, GOD willing, I am to preach at
_Woodstock_; on _Friday_, at _Pembroke_; here again next _Sunday_ by
eight, and then for _England_. I wish dear Mr. _H――――y_ present, to see
the people:――but,――and there are so many other _buts_ in the way, that
I would not press him. Mr. _D――――s_ is returned in safety. I hope Mr.
_B――――dge_ will not miss of his expected preferment. _Joab_’s hand is
in the _G――――h_ scheme. Rooms are not so lofty or large, prospects not
so pleasant, bedsteads not so easy, in these parts, as in some places
in or near _London_, but all good enough for young and old pilgrims
that have got good breath. Tender love to all. Let all join in prayer
for us. I have been pushing on dear sick Mr. _D――――s_, to go out and
preach six miles off. He is gone finely mounted, and I am persuaded
will return in high spirits. Who knows, who knows but preaching may be
our grand catholicon again? This is the good methodistical, thirty year
old medicine. That you may live to see it revived, and tried a thousand
and a thousand times over, is the hearty prayer of, my dear dear friend,
Ever yours, &c. &c. &c.
_G. W._