“My dear Brother,—A day or two ago, I had the pleasure of receiving a letter from you. Accept my thanks for it.
“I am glad that our Saviour is getting Himself the victory in your parts, and that fresh doors are opened for our dear brother Ingham to preach the everlasting gospel.
“Blessed be our glorious Emmanuel! I also can tell you of new and glorious conquests made of late. I am but just returned from a circuit of four hundred miles in Gloucestershire and Wales. Dagon has everywhere fallen before the ark. The fields are white unto the harvest. The congregations were very large; and I was never enabled to preach with greater power.
“I purpose staying here about a month, and intend once more to attack the prince of darkness in Moorfields, when the holidays come. Many precious souls have been captivated with Christ’s love in that wicked place. Jerusalem sinners bring most glory to the Redeemer.
“Where I shall go next, I cannot yet tell. If my Master should point out the way, a visit to Yorkshire would be very agreeable. Perhaps Exeter and Cornwall may be the next places. I love to range in such places.
“George Whitefield.”
The Whitsuntide holidays occurred in the fourth week of May; but no record exists of Whitefield’s intended “attack on the prince of darkness,” except that he preached in the morning of Whit-Sunday in Moorfields, and made a collection for his Orphan House, amounting to £23. The following are extracts from letters addressed, at this time, to his two superintendents—the first to Mr. Habersham, the second to Mr. Barber.
“London, May 21, 1743.
“My very dear faithful Friend and Brother,—After watching and praying and striving some days for direction, I now sit down to write you a letter, though I know not well what to say or do. The concern I have felt for you and my dear family has had an effect on my body, and has increased the weakness, which the season of the year, my constant labours, and continual cares have brought upon me. I fear I have been sinfully impatient to come to you. I think I could be sold as a slave to serve at the galleys, rather than you and my dear orphan family should want. You may well expect me; but I must not mention it, lest my impatient heart should say, ‘Lord, why wilt Thou not let me go?’
“After I have fought the Lord’s battles in Moorfields, these holidays, I think to take a tour into Cornwall and Wales, and, perhaps, to Ireland.”