March 22, 1811.

The Coalheaver to the Ragman sendeth greeting.

THIS has been a long, wet, and trying winter to me. I am in hopes, however, that ere long I shall be able once more to see your face in the flesh, that I may bless you before I die; for old age gathers fast upon me; nor can I put far away from me the evil day of death, for there is no discharge in that war, though we are made more than conquerors through him that hath loved us. Good and kind is my dear Lord to unworthy me; and once more, according to custom, I subscribe to the truth of our Lord's assertion - that Satan is the father of lies; for he has long told me that in old age my ministry would die, the power fail, and my joys wither away. Yet never have I had greater success than of late, for the power of God is present to heal indeed. And, though I dislike the place I preach in, yet God owns it in. a high degree. I am made manifest throughout the city, and strangers flock continually to hear me. Those who wither away are Satan's own labourers; the springing well is not in them, being wells without water. I often think of the dream I had in your house the last time I was with you.

I saw myself at the head of a large body of people, and a much larger body opposing, filled with rage at me; when suddenly a large rock sprung up out of the ground, to which I pointed my enemies, who seemed dismayed, and gave way. I dreamt the same a second time, and awoke with these words sounding in my ears and heart - "Thou hast been honourable, and I have loved thee."

God bless you all. Write soon.


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