“What a glorious opportunity is now afforded you, to shew, even before kings, that we are made kings indeed, and priests unto God, and that it is our privilege, as Christians, to reign over sin, hell, the world, and ourselves. O the happiness of a life wholly devoted to the ever-blessed God, and spent in communion with Him! It is indeed heaven begun on earth. I trust, some in these parts, who a few days ago had never heard of this kingdom of God, now begin to look after it. I have not seen a more visible alteration made in a people for some time. Thousands have attended, in the greatest order; and numbers are affected.” On Monday, May 15, Whitefield set out for Wales, taking Salisbury and Bristol on his way. In ten days, he reached his wife’s house at Abergavenny, where he spent forty-eight hours of “sweet, very sweet retirement,――so sweet,” says he, “that I should be glad never to be heard of again. But this must not be. A necessity is laid upon me; and woe is me, if I preach not the gospel of Christ.” Whitefield’s was a warm heart. Distress in others always moved him. His sympathy was not restrained by bigotry. In the fullest sense, it made him a good Samaritan. While at Abergavenny, he wrote to a friend in London, who had charge of “the poor widows, and the other Tabernacle petitioners,” and laid before him a case of need, which he wished to be relieved out of the Tabernacle funds. “On Thursday,” says he, “I saw Mr. E―――― I――――, the Dissenting minister, and found him very meanly apparelled. He is a most worthy man. Some time ago, he sold £15 worth of his books, to finish a small meeting-house, in which he preaches. He has but £3 per annum from the fund, and about as much from his people. He lives very low, but enjoys much of God; and has as great understanding of the figurative parts of Scripture as any one I know. He is a Zacharias, and his wife an Elizabeth. Four or five guineas might be bestowed on them. What a scene will open at the great day! How many _rich priests_ will stand confounded, whilst the poor despised _faithful ministers_ of Christ shall enter, after all their tribulation, into the joy of their Lord!” Whitefield spent a glorious month among the Welsh mountains. In a letter, dated “Carmarthen, June 5, 1749,” he writes: “I am still in suspense about my wife;[236] but, what is best, (glory be to God!) the gospel runs, and is glorified. I have preached fourteen times within the past eight days, and the word has everywhere fallen with weight and power. Yesterday was a great day here.” From Carmarthen, Whitefield proceeded to Haverfordwest, where, on June 8th, he wrote to Lady Huntingdon:――