Friday, 25.--We rode through a lovely country to Chepstow. I had designed to go straight
on, but yielded to the importunity of our friends to stay and preach in the evening. Meantime,
I took a walk through Mr. Morris's woods. There is scarcely anything like them in the
kingdom. They stand on the top and down the side of a steep mountain, hanging in a
semicircular form over the river. Through these woods abundance of serpentine walks are
cut, wherein many seats and alcoves are placed; most of them command a surprising prospect
of rocks and fields on the other side of the river. And must all these be burned up? What
will become of us then, if we set our hearts upon them?
The Journal of John Wesley
The Journal of John Wesley
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