_London, May 1, 1753._
_My dear David_,
DO you enquire where I am? I answer, in _London_, longing to come to _Leeds_, and yet withheld hitherto by His providence who ordereth all things well. Let us have a little more patience, and then in a few weeks I hope to have a blessed range in the _North_. GOD’s time I have always found to be the best time in the end. Ere now, I suppose, Mr. _L――――_ hath received my letter from _Norwich_. The word ran and was glorified there. Preaching so frequently, and riding hard, almost killed me; but what is my body in comparison of precious and immortal souls? O that this Spring may prove a Spring-time every day! Indeed I want to begin to begin to do something for JESUS. At present I am engaged in a very ungrateful work; I mean, in writing against the leading _Moravian_ brethren. When you see it, you will know whether there was not a cause: a second edition of the pamphlet is just come out. I fear the third part of the Journals cannot be procured: perhaps it is not much matter. I am sick of all I do, and stand astonished that the Redeemer still continues to make use of and bless me. Surely I am more foolish than any man; no one receives so much, and does so little. If you was here, we would weep together: friends know what it is to exchange hearts. May the common friend of sinners keep both our hearts near himself, and then all will be well. I cannot think of _Leeds_ without weeping. I love that people, and pray that they may increase with all the increase of GOD. “Brethren, pray for us,” is still the earnest request of my poor heart. I am weaker than the weakest, less than the least of all. Write to me; I do not like your sending such round-about ways: friends letters always pay postage. O let us send often by post to heaven; I mean, on the wings of faith and love: from thence we shall assuredly receive good answers, though not always in our own way or time. For the present, farewel. My hearty love to all the true followers of the Lamb. I hope to write to all in time. In great haste, but much greater love, I subscribe myself,
Yours, &c.