“Gloucester, May 20, 1767. We have had good seasons at Rodborough. I have been out twice in the fields. Lady Huntingdon has been wonderfully delighted. She and her company lay at Rodborough House. Dear Mr. Adams is about to be married to a good Christian nurse. He is sickly in body, but healthy in soul.”
“Gloucester, May 21, 1767. I have preached twice in the open air. Thousands and thousands attended. I am about to preach here this morning, in my native city. On Sunday I hope to take to Rodborough wood again. Good Lady Huntingdon and her company were wonderfully delighted. They honoured dear Mr. Adams’s house with their presence. He is but poorly, and wants a nurse. Perhaps, before next Sunday, he may be married to a simple-hearted, plain, good creature, who has waited upon him and the preachers near twenty years. She has no fortune, but is one who, I think, will take care of, and be obedient to him, for Christ’s sake.”
“Gloucester, May 25, 1767. I am just setting out in a post-chaise for Haverfordwest; and I have therefore drawn upon you” (Mr. Keen) “for £20. This is expensive; but it is for One who has promised not to send us a warfare on our own charges. We had a most blessed season yesterday. Thousands and thousands heard, saw, and felt. Mr. Adams preached in the evening, on ‘The Lord is my portion, therefore will I trust in Him.’ A good text for a new-married man. I have advised him to preach next on these words, ‘The Lord’s portion is His people.’ He is now here.”
“Haverfordwest, May 31, 1767, Sunday. 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; and then for England. Rooms are not so lofty or large, prospects not so pleasant, bedsteads not so easy, in these parts, as in someplaces in or near London; but all are good enough for young and old pilgrims who have got good breath. I have been pushing dear sick Mr. Davies to go out and preach six miles off. He is gone finely mounted, and, I am persuaded, will return in high spirits. Who knows but preaching may be our grand catholicon again? This is the good, Methodistical, thirty-year-old medicine.”
“Gloucester, June 10, 1767. Blessed be God, I am got on this side the Welsh mountains! Blessed be God, I have been on the other side! What a scene last Sunday![567] What a cry for more of the bread of life! But I was quite worn down. I am now better than could be expected. To-morrow, God willing, my wife shall know what route I take. O when shall I begin to live to Jesus, as I would! I want to be a flame of fire.”
A week after this, Whitefield was in London. During his absence, he had tried to secure the services of Fletcher of Madeley, and Fletcher’s reply to his application is too characteristic to be omitted:—
“Madeley, May 18, 1767.
“Reverend and dear Sir,—Your mentioning my poor ministrations among your congregations opens again a wound of shame that was but half healed. I feel the need of asking God, you, and your hearers’ pardon, for weakening the glorious matter of the gospel by my wretched, broken manner, and spoiling the heavenly power of it by the uncleanness of my heart and lips. I should be glad to go and be your curate some time this year; but I see no opening, nor the least prospect of any. What between the dead and the living, a parish ties one down more than a wife. If I could go anywhere this year, it should be to Yorkshire, to accompany Lady Huntingdon, according to a design that I had half formed last year; but I fear that I shall be debarred even from this. I set out, God willing, to-morrow morning for Trevecca, to meet her ladyship there, and to show her the way to Madeley, where she proposes to stay three or four days in her way to Derbyshire. What chaplain she will have there I know not;God will provide. I rejoice that, though you are sure of heaven, you have still a desire to inherit the earth, by being a peacemaker. Somehow, you will enjoy the blessings that others may possibly refuse.
“Last Sunday seven-night, Captain Scott preached, to my congregation, a sermon, which was more blessed, though preached only upon my horse-block, than a hundred of those I preach in the pulpit. I invited him to come and treat her Ladyship next Sunday with another, now the place is consecrated. If you should ever favour Shropshire with your presence, you shall have the captain’s or the parson’s pulpit at your option. Many ask me whether you will not come to have some fruit here also. What must I answer them? I, and many more, complain of a stagnation in the work. What must we do? Everything buds and blossoms around us, yet our winter is not over. I thought Mr. Newton,[568] who has been three weeks in Shropshire, would have brought the turtle-dove along with him; but I could not prevail upon him to come to this poor Capernaum. I think I hardly ever met his fellow for a judicious spirit. Still, what has God done in him and in me? I am out of hell, and mine eyes have seen something of His salvation. Though I must and do gladly yield to Mr. Newton and all my brethren, yet I must and will contend, that my being in the way to heaven makes me as rich a monument of mercy, as he, or any of them.
“I am, reverend and dear sir, your willing, though halting and unworthy servant,