_London, September 28, 1765._
_My very dear Timothy_,
THOSE that are _Timothies_ indeed, shall be honoured of Him, whom they desire to honour, with a disinterested spirit. I am glad you find old _Jacob_’s prophecy to be fulfilling. “To _Shiloh_ shall the gathering of the people be.” Nothing is wanting at _Bristol_, _London_, and elsewhere, but labourers full of the first old methodistical spirit. But where to get them is the question. Those that are thus minded, are almost worn out. I would gladly fly to _Bristol_ if I could; but I see that it is best to be here for some time. And indeed, things have always been at such a low ebb, when I have been at _Bristol_, and matters carried on with so little spirit, that I have generally come mourning away. If a few, such as Mr. _C――――t_, would exert themselves steadily, and perseveringly, and proper preachers were sent, something might be done to purpose. But as neither of these things is likely to happen, my expectations are not very much raised. However, the residue of the spirit is in the Redeemer’s hands. Our eyes wait upon Him. From Him, and Him alone, all kinds of salvation do come. Fain would I have you up at _London_ for some time, at this season. Mr. _D――――r_ expects to see you in a clerical habit about _Christmas_. He asked me, if I would get him a scarf? I answered, that you must have one first. You may guess how he smiled. However, I really intend you shall preach in the chapel. I want you also to read the letters, and give me leave to comment upon them, as my breath will allow. You may return by way of _Bristol_, or if _Sarah_ is worse, go from hence. I thank you heartily for making the collections. Never was a cause kept up at such a small expence; “not by might, or by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD.” This be our invariable rule. GOD bless and prosper you more and more. If I have not tired you, I have almost tired, my very dear _Timothy_,
Yours, &c. &c.