you, although you give me so little hope. But if the blessed God hath otherwise ordained, praised be his holy name for the comfortable support you have already enjoyed in your severe affliction, and I heartily pray that it may continue with you until the end; and although I know not how to part with you, yet, should your work be done, and the decree gone forth, I need not tell you that you will be far happier than your Christian friends who are left in the wilderness. I need not tell you that you will join your dear friends Some, Watts, and Clark, who are triumphantly singing the song of redeeming love: but what am I writing? you will join the whole assembled church of the first born; and what adds the crown of joy of every Christian, you will have, the full enjoyment of your ever blessed Redeemer; he who once in vision came to you, but only to the door, will come in and sup with you.*

I heartily pray that good Mrs. Doddridge may be supported under so severe a dispensation; and that her will may be wholly bowed to the Divine. Let not one anxious thought of your dear children abide with you. Your God and Father, the Guide of your own youth, will provide for them. I am,

Dear and reverend Sir,

Your affectionate Friend and humble Servant,

THOMAS YEOMAN.

case as desperate, and said, that unless God should interpose in such an extraordinary manner as he had no reason to expect, he could not long continue in the land of the living. He ascribed to the efficacy of the prayers of his friends the composure and joy he felt in his own soul, and the preservation of Mrs. Doddridge's health, amidst incessant fatigue and anxiety."

* An allusion to the dream given at page 354 of the fourth volume.

TO MISS DODDRIDGE.

MY DEAR POLLY,

Salop, Aug. 12, 1751. Monday Morning. YOUR pious and affectionate letter was a great pleasure and comfort to us both. We are much obliged to you and our kind friends at Northampton for the solicitous concern expressed for us, and the fervent prayers offered: offered, as I hope and trust, not in vain: for, through the great goodness of God, I have found a great alteration for the better in the state of my health since the season of prayer on Tuesday night, for I observed myself better on Wednesday, and have been rather mending ever since. And this I desire you will let Mr. Browne and Mr. Francis Butlin know, with my most affectionate thanks, and desire them to return thanks solemnly to God;—and to make my most cordial and respectful acknowledgments to my praying friends on this occasion. Nevertheless, though I am greatly better within these six days, my cough and hoarseness is such, that it is judged advisable that we should try Bristol, which has, sometimes, been wonderfully serviceable in such cases; and we have, on much deliberation, judged that the trial should be made; and accordingly, I desire you would, with my best services and thanks, inform good Dr. Stonhouse, Miss Ekins, if she be not gone, and my other friends, that we shall, if God permit, leave this hospitable abode to-morrow morning, and set out for Bristol in a chariot and four, and four days' journey it will be. So many hazards

* It appears that Dr. Doddridge made the journey from Shrewsbury to Bristol without much inconvenience. On his arrival he was gratified by finding that his old friend Dr. Maddox, the Bishop of Worcester, was then there. Another pleasing circumstance was, that a clergyman of the Establishment, "with whom he had before only a slight acquaintance, entertained him in the most hospitable manner, and with a fraternal affection, till he could be accommodated with a lodging near the Wells."

will attend it, though you see we do our utmost to take the safest way; we shall particularly need prayer at that season, and so tell our friends.

And now, my dear, farewell. It is so late that I must

The pulmonary derangement had, however, proceeded with such rapidity, that even at this period his weakness was so great that the little walk to the pump-room was too fatiguing, and he gladly availed himself of Dr. Maddox's kind offer of taking him thither in his carriage. No amendment arising from the use of the waters, he desired his physicians to give him their judgment faithfully, and " he received their report of the great hazard of his case with that fortitude, resignation, and cheerfulness, which never forsook him to the last, in any place, or on any occasion." Of this serene and happy state of mind the following extracts, also selected from Mr. Orton's Memoirs, are characteristic and instructive proofs: "While the outward man was so sensibly decaying, that he used to say to his friends,' I die daily,' yet the inward man was renewed day by day. The warmth of his devotion, zeal, and friendship was maintained and increased; his physicians had directed him to speak and write as little as possible, but he could not satisfy himself without sometimes writing a few lines to some of his friends whom he could address in shorthand, without much fatigue; and the frame of his heart in the views of death will appear by the following extracts from them: I bless God I have the powerful supports of christianity; nor is it any grievance of heart to me, but, on the contrary, an unspeakable pleasure, that I have spent my life among the Protestant Dissenters, and sacrificed to Honour, Liberty, and Conscience those considerations which persons devoted to avarice and ambition think great and irresistible.' To another friend he writes,' I see, indeed, no hope of recovery, yet my heart rejoiceth in my God, and in my Saviour; and I can call Him under this failure of every thing else its strength and everlasting portion. I must now thank you for your heart-reviving letter to strengthen my faith, to comfort my soul, and assist me in swallowing up death in victory! God hath, indeed, been wonderfully good to me; but I am less than the least of his mercies, less than the least hope of his children. Adored be his grace for whatever it hath wrought by me; and blessed be you of the Lord, for the strong consolations you have been the instrument of administering; let me desire you to write again, and to pour out your heart freely with all its strong cordial sentiments of christianity; nothing will give me greater joy;— what a friend you will be in heaven! how glad shall I be to welcome you there, after a long, and glorious course of service, to increase the lustre of your crown! May you long shine, with your light, warmth, and influence like a sun upon the earth, when there remains not any united particles of that poor wasting, sinking frame, which enables this immortal Spirit to call itself your Friend in everlasting bonds,'

"P. Doddridge."

only add our kindest salutations to you all. Grace and peace be with you. I made shift, this morning, to pray in the family; and it was only the third time I had done so. It must be long ere I can expect to be restored to a capacity of pulpit service, if I am restored at all; but I desire to commit to God my usefulness and my life, and to await the decisions of his wise and gracious will, with all humble resignation.

I am, my dear Child,

Your ever affectionate Papa,

P. DODDRIDGE.

FROM ROBERT CRUTTENDEN, ESQ.*

August 30, 1751.

DEAR MADAM, In the present distracted situation of my mind I am absolutely at a loss how to address you, or, indeed, whether I ought to write at all, as I am sensible you are as little fit to read as I am to indite an epistle on the melancholy subject which must constitute this: but as I am so unhappy as to have nobody near my dying friend with whom I can consult on a resolution which, though I long to execute it, must entirely depend on your approbation, you will forgive a direct application to yourself. Persons at ease may consult propriety, and act by forms, but that, alas, is far from being my case; my soul, in its present state of doubt and uncertainty, feels an anguish words were never made to describe.

I long to see him once more before he puts on his robes of immortality, and from the best, the dearest of men, commences a perfect spirit. Oh, could I have thought, when I took my leave of him at St. Albans, that it was to

*To Mrs. Doddridge.

be the last time I should ever see my dear, my honoured friend, I should have better employed the hours we were alone in our journey thither. Now, Madam, all I want is your leave to wait on him once more; I long to receive his dying blessing; but would not purchase that satisfaction by giving him one uneasy moment, or hastening a loss which I think I could sacrifice my own worthless life to prevent. He loved me, Madam, though I know not why; and perhaps my name is not quite a stranger to his dying bed. Amidst the glories that are opening upon him, perhaps he still pities the distress of those he leaves behind; and surely, if distress can excite compassion, not one of all his numerous friends has a stronger claim.

How fast is Providence stripping me of all my comforts here! a few friends were all my worldly treasure, and I desired no more, but, alas, how do they drop away: poor Mr. Andrews is gone; and it is not many days ago that I expected Mr. Harvy would have had no more complaints to make of a crazy tabernacle, in which he groans earnestly for deliverance. Yesterday I took leave of Mr. Whitfield, who is embarked for America, with little prospect, as his constitution is quite worn out with labour, of my ever seeing him any more: and now I am every day waiting for a loss yet more distressing, in proportion to my friend's more extended usefulness.

Teach me, gracious God, the lessons thou wouldst have me learn by such awful dispensations. Perhaps they have done their work, and are, therefore, gone, or going to their Master's rest; if so, by the grace of God I will endeavour, by greater diligence to finish mine, to get a dismission too.

Pardon me, Madam, that my thoughts thus ramble; and give me leave to return to all I proposed in this letter; which was only to know your sentiments, whether I may be permitted to wait on him once more.

I dare not write directly to him, lest I should tempt his dear trembling hands to waste any of their little strength