"Through mercy, we are all well. Last Sunday was my turn at Kingswood and Wick. I had a large congregation in the morning, and such a sense of the presence of God rested on us all as some of the oldest members said they had never felt before. I took that glorious subject: How excellent is thy loving-kindness, O God! etc. My own soul was greatly watered, and the Lord sent a plentiful rain on his inheritance. Though the place was thronged there was not a sound in it save that of my own voice; till, describing how God gave to those who turned to him to drink of the river of his pleasure to be filled with the very thing which made God himself happy I raised my voice and inquired in the name of the living God, Who was miserable? Who was willing to be saved! to be made happy! Who was athirst? A wretched being, who had long hardened his heart by a course of uncommon wickedness, roared out: I am, Lord! I am! I am! In a moment there was a general commotion. I seized the instant and told them to compose themselves and listen, for I had something more to tell them something for every soul, a great, an eternal good. I am just going to open to you another stream of the river of his pleasure. They were immediately composed and in a very few moments such a flood of tears streamed down all cheeks as you have perhaps never seen, and all was silence but the sighings which escaped, and the noise made by the poor fellow who was still crying to God for mercy. In about half an hour we ended one of the most solemn and blessed meetings I ever mini stored until. I was then obliged to set off for Wick, a place several miles farther. Here I had a good congregation.
"You will wish to know what became of the poor man, and I am glad I can tell you. I had it yesterday from one of the leaders at Kingswood. When he left the chapel he set off for the first prayer-meeting he could find, thinking God would never forgive his sins until he made confession unreservedly of all his iniquities. He began in the simplicity of his soul, and, with an agonized heart, and streaming eyes, made known the evils of his life. They prayed with him, and God gradually brought him into the liberty of his children.
From, ‘The life of the Rev Adam Clarke’, by J W Etheridge, 1859, p211-2 http://www.archive.org/stream/abiographicalske00shenuoft#page/n211/mode/2up
I do not know where the chapel was.