Going on

Saturday, August 20 (Brecknock).--We took horse at four and rode through one of the pleasantest countries in the world. When we came to Trecastle, we had ridden fifty miles in Monmouthshire and Brecknockshire; and I will be bold to say, all England does not afford such a line of fifty miles' length, for fields, meadows, woods, brooks, and gently rising mountains, fruitful to the very top. Carmarthenshire, into which we came soon after, has at least as fruitful a soil; but it is not so pleasant, because it has fewer mountains, though abundance of brooks and rivers. About five I preached on the green at Carmarthen to a large number of deeply attentive people. Here two gentlemen from Pembroke met me, with whom we rode to St. Clare, intending to lodge there. But the inn was quite full so we concluded to try for Larn, though we knew not the way and it was now quite dark. Just then came up an honest man who was riding thither, and we willingly bore him company.

 
The Journal of John Wesley