_To Mr. S――――._
_Newcastle, September 24, 1755._
_My very dear Sir_,
AT length I can sit down, and send you (what I know you dearly love) some good news concerning the kingdom of JESUS CHRIST. O infinite condescension! He hath vouchsafed to own and bless my feeble labours all the way. At _Northampton_ we had blessed seasons; at Lady _H――――n_’s, the LORD of all Lords was with us of a truth; at _Liverpool_ I trust some fallow ground was broken up; at _Bolton_ the cup of many ran over; at _Manchester_ people heard most gladly; and at _Leeds_ and _Bradford_, what many felt, I believe, is unutterable. In my way hither, I hope a smart gentleman was touched at _York_, and several I find were awakened when I was at this place last. LORD, what am I?
If thou excuse, then work thy will, By so unfit an instrument; It will at once thy goodness shew, And prove thy power omnipotent.
What GOD does further, you may hear by and by. Perhaps I am at the end of my northern circuit, and I fear I am too impatient to get at the end of my christian race. I long, I long to see JESUS. Well, he that comes, will come and will not tarry. His reward is with him; then, but not till then, shall you and yours be fully recompensed, for strengthening my poor feeble hands in the LORD. He only knows how feeble. Surely this is grace indeed, to employ such a wretch as I am. Help me to adore it. Continue to pray for me, and thereby add to the obligations already conferred on, my very dear friend,
Yours most affectionately in our common LORD,