_To Mr. J――――ss._
_London, May 17, 1768._
_My dear Man_,
GO forward, go forward, is the watch-word of the present day. Never mind the envious cry of elder brethren. Had they been harkened to, the prodigal must never have come home, nor _Goliah_’s head have been cut off. All temple builders, especially when called out to work in the field, must endure not only the contradictions of sinners, but the contradiction of saints also. Happy are they who are so deeply engaged in building, as not to have time to hearken to either. I long to come and lend an helping, though feeble hand. But _Welch_ horses move slowly. If the _Welch_ apostle comes, I purpose, in the _Whitsun_ week, to make a short excursion into _Sussex_ and _Kent_, and then for _Bristol_. Blessed be GOD, the shout of a king is heard in our camps! All your family is well. All will be more than well, when we come to our house in heaven. Let us march forward with palms of victory in our hands, crying, “_Hallelujah!_ the LORD GOD omnipotent reigneth!” Tender love to all. I hope to answer Mrs. _R――――s_ person. The LORD JESUS be with your spirits! Cease not to pray for, my dear man,
Less than the least of all,