_New-York, December 1, 1763._
_My dear Sir_,
HOW thankful should I be to the adorable JESUS, and to all that love me for his great name’s sake, for the blessed contents of your last, dated _September 10_. Praise the LORD, O my soul, and all that is within me praise his holy name! May this be only an earnest of good things to come, both in _England_ and _Wales_. Ere now, I suppose dear Mr. _Davis_ is crying _Gogunniant_ in _London_. We are essaying to echo it back from _America_. Some very good impressions have been made in _Philadelphia_, and we had four sweet seasons at _New-Jersey_ college, and two at _Elizabeth-Town_, in my way hither. Some said they resembled old times. My spirits grow better. But thrice a week is as often as I can preach. To-day I begin here, and have thoughts of returning with Mr. _H――――m_ to _Georgia_, but am fearful of relapsing by such a fatiguing passage or journey. The LORD will direct. Mr. _Cruttenden_ is got above these infirmities; GOD be praised that he went off so comfortably! may our expiring hour be like his! Surprized am I indeed to find that you have a little one coming into this world which others are leaving. LORD JESUS, spare root and branch, for thy own glory, and thy people’s good! LORD JESUS, convert us all more and more, and make us all like little children! Tender, tender love to all that love him in sincerity. I would write to many more, but company, low state of health, and travelling, render more frequent writing impracticable to, my dear steady friend,
Yours, theirs, &c. &c. in our JESUS,