Dear sir, is it in my power to serve or oblige you in any way?
Glad I should be that you would make use of me. God open all
our eyes and lead us into truth wherever it be!
John Whitelamb.
The answer was delivered to him that same evening. It ran:
Dear Brother,—I take you at your word, if indeed it covers permission to preach in your church at Wroote on Sunday morning next. I design to take for text—and God grant it may be profitable to you and to others!—"Ask, and it shall be given you."
CHAPTER II.
From Epworth John Wesley rode on to Sheffield, and then southward through Coventry, Evesham and Painswick to Bristol, preaching as he went, sometimes thrice a day: from Bristol to Cardiff and back; and so, on Sunday evening, July 18th, towards London. On Tuesday morning he dismounted by the door of the Foundry, having left it just two months before.
To his surprise it was opened by Hetty: but at once he guessed the reason.
"Mother?"
"Hist! The end is very near—a few hours perhaps." She kissed him.
"I have been with her these five days, taking turns with the others.
They are all here—Emmy and Sukey and Nancy and Pat. Charles cannot
be fetched in time, I fear."
"He was in North Wales when he last wrote."
"Listen!"—a sound of soft singing came down the stairway. "They are singing his hymn to her: she begs us constantly to sing to her."