“I know not what the Lord will do with me, or how I shall proceed. My strength is so worn down, and my constitution so irreparably decayed, that it will be absolutely impossible for me to discharge my ministerial duty.” “_June 13._ Weston is near Northampton; about two miles from the town; pleasantly situated on an agreeable eminence. My house is quite retired; so that we hear none of the tumultuous din of the world, and see nothing but the wonderful and charming works of the Creator. O! that I may be enabled to improve this advantageous solitude! I did, on the day your ladyship mentions, ascend the pulpit; and speak, for the space of half an hour, to my people. But with so much weakness! O! ’tis well that the eternal God does not want strength of lungs, or delicacy of elocution; but can do His great work of converting souls by the weakest, meanest instruments. If it was not so, I must absolutely despair of being successful in my labour, or serviceable in my office. I opened my commission to my new parishioners, from those words: ‘Preach the gospel to every creature’; and gave them to understand, that, the end of my preaching amongst them, the design of my conversation with them, and the principal aim of my whole life would be, to bring them acquainted with the truth, and assist them in attaining the great salvation.” “_July 3._ Advised by my friends, importuned by my relations, and swayed by a concern for the circumstances of a mother and sister who live with me, I have been prevailed on to take a second benefice.[203] This obliges me to set out for Cambridge without delay, in order to be created Master of Arts. From thence, I proceed to London, to get a dispensation from the Archbishop, and the seals from the Lord Chancellor. On Wednesday night, I hope to be in town; and, if I can get my business despatched by Saturday or Monday at the farthest, I may return soon enough to meet our Diocesan on his visitation at Northampton; receive institution there; and save myself the fatigue and expense of a journey to Peterborough. I was honoured with your ladyship’s letter, just as I returned from visiting my people at Collingtree: the parish which I served, when I lived with my father, and of which I am going to be rector. It would have pleased you to have observed how glad the honest folks were to see their old curate. And why were they glad? For no other reason, that I can conceive, but because I used to converse with them in private, just as I spoke to them from the pulpit; and endeavoured, at every interview, to set forward their eternal salvation. This, I find, is the grand secret, to win the affections of a flock. And in this, as in every other part of true Christianity, our interest and our duty are connected.”