_To Mr. A――――s._
_London, August 14, 1767._
_My very dear Tommy_,
I AM sorry to hear you have been sick. This hath been my case. Blessed
be GOD, I am better. Who knows but I may be strengthened to take a
trip to _Scotland_. This itch after itinerating, I hope will never be
cured till we come to heaven. Though laymen occupy both the pulpits,
at _Tottenham-Court_ chapel and tabernacle, congregations increase.
“Not by might or by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD.” No weapon
formed against _Sion_, shall or can prosper. Our _Thursday_ morning six
o’clock tabernacle lecture is crouded. I am looking for, and putting
together old letters. Have you any dated _January_ or _February 1743_?
Could you send to Mr. _E――――s_ of _Ebly_, and enquire how Mrs. _L――――e_
may be directed to? Her husband had many letters from me. How are dear
Mrs. _R――――ts_, and Mrs. _A――――re_? I never forget them in the midst
of all my loves. I hope you are surrounded with warm friends, a most
kind and affectionate nurse, and what is all in all, an infinitely
compassionate never-failing JESUS. To his unchangeable love I most
earnestly commend your whole self, and all dear never to be forgotten
friends. How is poor Mr. _C――――e_? What an hospital is the church!
Blessed be GOD, there are no incurables in it however. Ere long,
we shall be where the inhabitants shall no more say, “I am sick.”
_Hallelujah._ I am, my very dear _Tommy_,
Yours, &c. &c. &c. in Him,
_G. W._