_To Mr. K――――._
_London, February 21, 1761._
_My dear Timothy_,
THE distance that _Plymouth_ lies from _London_, is one great cause of my coming there so seldom. What can I do, who have so many calls, and so few assistants? _London_ must be minded. For surely, there the word runs and is glorified more and more. I returned in post-haste, last month, from _Bristol_. Both in going and coming, dear Mr. _H――――y_ and I were in great jeopardy. Once the machine fell over, and at another time we were obliged to leap out of the post-chaise, though going very fast. Blessed be GOD, we received little hurt. Good was to be done. On the fast-day, near six hundred pounds were collected for the _German_ and _Boston_ sufferers. Grace! grace! I wish you had collected at _Bristol_. When can you move? pray let me know directly. I want my wife to ride as far as _Plymouth_. Nothing but exercise will do with her. Remember us to your whole self, and to all. This is the very first moment that I could catch, to let you hear from, my dear man,
Yours, &c. in our glorious _Emmanuel_.