Wesley Corpus

MY DEAR BROTHER, -- Our Lord's hand is not shortened amongst us. Yesterday I preached at St. Katherine's, and at Islington, where the church was almost as hot as some of the Society rooms used to be. I think I never was so much strengthened before. The fields after service were white with people praising God. About three hundred were present at Mr. Sims's; thence I went to Mr. Bell's, then to Fetter Lane, and at nine to Mr. Bray’s, where also we only wanted room. To-day I expound in the Minories at four, at Mrs. West's at six, and to a large company of poor sinners in Gravel Lane (Bishopsgate) at eight. The Society at Mr. Crouch's does not meet till eight; so that I expound, before I go to him, near St. James’s Square, where one young woman has been lately filled with the Holy Ghost and overflows with joy and love. On Wednesday at six we have a noble company of women, not adorned with gold or costly apparel, but with a meek and quiet spirit and good works. At the Savoy on Thursday evening we have usually two or three hundred, most of them at least thoroughly awakened. Mr. Abbot's parlor is more than filled on Friday, as is Mr. Park's room twice over; where I have commonly had more power given me than at any other place. A week or two ago a note was given me there, as near as I can remember, in these words: ‘Your prayers are desired for a sick child that is lunatic, and sore vexed day and night, that our Lord would heal him, as He did those in the days of His flesh; and that He would give his parents faith and patience till his time is come.’