_To Mr. R―――― K――――n._
_Haverford-west, May 31, 1767._
_My dear dear Friend_,
YOUR spiritual mind medley was very agreeable. I could wish for a second dose, but know not what direction to give about sending it. My rout is not yet fixed. 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_ by eight, and then for _England_. I wish dear Mr. _H――――y_ present, to see the people:――but,――and there are so many other _buts_ in the way, that I would not press him. Mr. _D――――s_ is returned in safety. I hope Mr. _B――――dge_ will not miss of his expected preferment. _Joab_’s hand is in the _G――――h_ scheme. Rooms are not so lofty or large, prospects not so pleasant, bedsteads not so easy, in these parts, as in some places in or near _London_, but all good enough for young and old pilgrims that have got good breath. Tender love to all. Let all join in prayer for us. I have been pushing on dear sick Mr. _D――――s_, to go out and preach six miles off. He is gone finely mounted, and I am persuaded will return in high spirits. Who knows, who knows but preaching may be our grand catholicon again? This is the good methodistical, thirty year old medicine. That you may live to see it revived, and tried a thousand and a thousand times over, is the hearty prayer of, my dear dear friend,
Ever yours, &c. &c. &c.