Joy and Glory fhould be to us as our own. -You • must now give me Leave to add, that you have

Reason to be thankful for this Difpenfation of Pro❝vidence, not only from a Principle of Zeal for Gon and Friendship to your Brother; but from a Regard to your own personal Intereft. The Gofpel teacheth its fincere Profeffors to regard every Providence as a • Mercy, when it tells them, that all Things shall work together for good to them that love GOD: And therefore tho' you could not fee Mercy in this particular Stroke, Religion would nevertheless require you to believe and acknowledge it. But cannot you yourself perceive fome Mercy in it? Has it not, as you are pleased to intimate in your Letter, an apparent Tendency to wean your Affections from this World, and to raise them to the heavenly Fe•licity? Do you not find the Thoughts of Death more tolerable, more delightful to you, fince GOD ⚫ has removed fso powerful an Attractive from Earth, ⚫ and tranflated it to Heaven? Nay, do you not find it a confiderable Exercise of Patience to be abfent, it may be for several Years, from this dear happy Brother, whofe Image continually prefents itself to your Mind in fo much the more charming a Light, as your Heart is melted with Grief for his Death? Now, if an Indifference to this World, and a most ⚫ affectionate Defire of a happy Immortality, be an important Branch of the christian Temper; if the Scriptures are fo frequently inculcating it upon us, and we fo continually praying for the Increase and lamenting the Deficiency of it, how reasonable is it that we should be thankful for thofe Providences, which, of all others, have the greatest Tendency

<

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'to

to promote it?I write thefe Things, Madam, ⚫ not with the Coldness of a Stranger, but with the tender Sympathy of a Friend; and with fo much the greater Sympathy, as, fince I began this Letter, I have loft a very agreeable and valuable Person out of my Congregation, with fome Circumftances, which render the Stroke peculiarly furprizing and afflicting. May GOD teach us fo to bear and improve all our Afflictions, both in ourselves and our • Friends, that we may have Reason to reflect upon them, as the most valuable Mercies of our Lives; and that they may fit us for that happy World, where we fhall be above the Need, and then, undoubtedly, above the Reach of them!"

SECT. V.

His Humility and Dependence on divine Affiftances.

D

R. Doddridge, with all his Furniture, Efteem and Succefs, was truly humble. He thought, to ufe his own Words, the Love of popular Applaufe a Meanness, which a Philosophy, far inferior to that of our divine Master, might teach Men to conquer. But that to be efteemed by eminently great and good Men, to whom we are intimately known, is not only one of the moft folid Atteftations of fome real Worth, but, next to the Approbation of GOD and our own Confciences, one of its moft valuable

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• Re

Rewards *.' This Happiness he enjoyed. He was solicitous to fecure the Efteem of others, out of Regard to his Usefulness in the World; and this he fought, not by destroying or disparaging the Reputation of others; nor by any finful or mean Compliances, but by a friendly condefcending Behaviour to all, and faithful Endeavours to ferve them. He difliked the Temper of those, who indulged their own Humour and pursued their own Schemes, without caring what the World faid or thought of them. He reckoned this an Affront to Mankind, and such an Evidence of Pride, as not only defeated the Ends they intended to answer, but exposed them to general Contempt. A fenfible Writer hath fo well expreffed what I know were his Sentiments on this Head, and which he often inculcated upon his Pupils, that I shall infert his Words. Reputation is in fact the great Inftrument, by which a Man is capable of receiving any Good from the World, or doing any Good in it. His most generous, tenderest Designs will be cenfured, his best Actions fufpected, his moft friendly Ad'vices and gentleft Reproofs mifconftrued and flighted, unless his Perfon be esteemed and his Character reverenced. So valuable a Property then, as a good Name, may well deferve to be guarded with Care. Nay, we may furely be allowed to seek for eminent 'Degrees of Regard from those about us, in order to be of more eminent Advantage to them. This Confideration pleads, with peculiar Force, for a Degree ⚫ of Tenderness and even Jealoufy of Reputation in thofe, who are the Salt of the Earth. Much Regard must be paid by them to the Sentiments; fome, even to "the

K

* Rife and Progrefs, Ded. p. iv.

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the Prejudices of those, that they have to do with *.’ Thefe Maxims Dr. Doddridge endeavoured to keep in his View; and there were few Perfons, in his Station, who enjoyed fo great a Share of the public Efteem, and whofe Writings were in fo much Reputation; and therefore few, in whom fome Degree of Self-complacence might have been more eafily excufed. The Defire of extending his Usefulness, falling-in with the natural Courteoufnefs of his Temper, might perhaps incline him to fet too high a Value upon the good Opinion of the World in general, and render him too folicitous to obtain it. It is hard even for a wife and good Man always to distinguish between a Defire of Popularity on its own Account, and that Concern about his Reputation, and the Acceptableness of what he offers to the Public, which is necessary to render him ferviceable to it: And while he thinks he is only influenced by the latter of thefe Principles, he may, unawares to himself, be in fome De gree under the Power of the former. How far this was the Cafe with Dr. Doddridge, it is impoffible for any one to fay, unless he could have looked into his Breaft, and feen the fecret Springs of his Actions. I am fully perfuaded, that the grand and governing Principles, on which he acted, were those of the noblest Kind; and that no Defire of Popularity or Applaufe could influence him in any Cafe, in which he thought the Intereft of Truth or Religion concerned. Thefe he always held facred; and, compared with thefe, he confidered even Reputation and Efteem as of no Account. This I may venture to affert, from along and intimate Acquaintance with him; and

Fothergill's Sermons, No. X.

from

from a View of his private Papers, in which he lays open, with the greatest Impartiality, all that paffed in his own Mind upon a Variety of Occafions. In them the secret Springs of his Actions do, in Effect, appear; and from them it is evident, that the Efteem of the World, instead of elating his Mind, produced deeper Humiliation before God, and higher Admiration of divine Favour and Grace manifested to him. I find him, in fome Hints of his devout Reflections and Exercises in fecret, often bewailing his Negligence, Mifpence of Time, and how little he had done for GOD, in Comparison with what he should and might have done; and expreffing the greatest Self-abasement, in acknowledging fome Inftances of Respect and Succefs, which GOD had given him. June 26, 1728, It grieves me, faith he, and fills me with Remorse, to think, that a Creature born in a christian Country and a pious Family, furnished with Capacities and Endowments for confiderable Service, early ⚫ devoted to GOD, not only by the Action of its Parents, but its own folemn Engagements; a Creature taken Care of by GoD in fo remarkable a Manner, • when forfaken by earthly Parents; vifited with continual Inftances of Goodnefs; bleffed with Health, tho' of a weak Conftitution; furrounded with Plen< ty, tho' without any certain Subfiftence; beloved and efteemed by Friends, notwithstanding much • Perverseness to forfeit their Regards; a Creature employed in the public Services of the Miniflry; and purfuing it often with the Appearances of the < warmest Zeal for GOD, and the tendereft Compaffion for Souls; fhould after all behave in fo unworthy a Manner as I have done. It confounds me