DEAR MADAM,

TO MY SISTER.

Stretton, May 20th, 1724. UPON a very accurate reflection and examination I have observed that, ever since you obliged and honoured me with your most agreeable correspondence, you have always chosen to begin your letters with the same sentence: "Dear Brother, I heartily ask your pardon for my long silence." This has afforded me matter of great speculation. But, upon the whole, I must confess that I have not that penetration of genius, which is necessary to dive into its mysterious cause. I am too well acquainted with the uncommon furniture and accomplishments of your mind to suspect that it proceeds from a want of invention; and though it is undoubtedly evident, that there is something inexpressibly charming and elegant in the sentence, yet you must pardon me, madam, if I insinuate, with all imaginable respect, that it loses something of its beauty by being so frequently repeated. Upon the whole, I am ready to imagine, that you give it the preference, because the necessity of the case seems to require it. But a difficulty still remains and urges me to inquire from whence this necessity arises. You have always been so obliging a sister, that I should be a brute to suspect you of unkindness or neglect. Nor can the urgency of your affairs be so great as not to allow you a few spare moments from the 23rd of January, 1723, till the last day of April in the ensuing year. And therefore,

after all, the bottom of the affair is this-you are not at all fond of writing, though so completely mistress of your thoughts and your pen, and prudently consider that, by such good husbandry, four letters will serve you a twelvemonth; whereas, were you to answer me a little sooner, you might be put to the charge of six. Now this is the perverse interpretation which you put upon that excellent proverb, which I was in hopes you would have taken another way: Bis dat qui cito dat. For a comment upon which I refer you to your chaplain*.

As to the lucky conjecture of my brother's, which was it seems impressed upon his mind in so powerful a manner, that my letter would come to wish him joy of any thing but itself, I fear it was the suggestion of a lying spirit. Far be such a wicked thought from me. Notwithstanding all the symptoms of distraction which I discovered in my former letter, and which I perceive, with the most decent air, he intended to rally, I am not so utterly abandoned by some small remains of common sense as to think of venturing into that careful state with a salary of forty pounds a year, and a fortune of no more than five hundred pounds, which is all Kitty will have at first; though I would hope that in time it may be something augmented. It is sufficient that I am indifferently anxious to secure the title, but, as for the rest, I shall refer it to a more convenient opportunity.

Your curiosity will lead you to inquire into the

Mr. Nettleton.

progress of that tender affair; and my fond impertinence inclines me to mention it. Well, then, according to Mr. Clark's advice, that I might act with that candour and generosity which become a minister and a Christian, I have some months ago secured the consent both of Mr. and Mrs. Freeman. Yet I confess, that madame la Mère did not seem very much transported with the proposal. The dear creature herself is fully conscious of the decorum which her sex demands. But she does not imagine that it obliges her to wear a coy dissimulation; and she therefore takes a thousand engaging ways of showing that she is not insensible to my tender sorrows; and, I believe I may answer for it, that unless something very extraordinary should happen, the business will not break off on her side. The principal opposition I fear, is from two very rich uncles at London, who talk of making her a tolerable fortune when they die, and are both of them violent tories and men of business, without any impressions of religion. I am persuaded that a dissenting minister, without a good income, is the last man in the world they would choose for their niece. However, they have frequently assured Mr. Freeman that they would acquiesce in any offer that he should approve.

My affairs will not permit me to see you at present; but I hope to spend a month with you about the beginning of July. Mr. Massey has invited me to lodge with him when I am in town, which, accordingly, I am resolved to do. I have lately received a letter from my cousin Doddridge of Cookham, in

which he informs me that we are the only male branches of the family who are left alive, and that my uncle and aunt Norton are both well. I wrote him a letter by which it seems he was much gratified, and I have promised to spend a day or two at Cookham, where I hope to have your company, as well as at Hampstead. What should I add to so tedious a discourse but that I am heartily glad to hear you are on the mending hand; that I desire my humble service and thanks to Mrs. Nettleton, my Brother, and all other friends. My dear Kitty returns her acknowledgments for the generous present which my brother sent her in his last. She frequently inquires after you, and will be glad of an opportunity of being acquainted with you. To conclude all in two words, I am

Your most affectionate Brother and humble Servant,

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

DEAR SIR,

TO MR. HALFORD.

May 20, 1724. HAVING secured a few moments after a hard day's work, I am now setting myself down, without any further ceremony, to answer your obliging letter. And it must be my first business to thank you for the honour you do me in retaining so kind a remembrance of me, of which your letter gives me so agreeable a testimony.

You really discharge the true office of a friend in reminding me of those gracious encouragements which our great master has given us to lay ourselves out in his service with vigour and alacrity. May God more deeply impress them upon our minds, and engage us so to act upon them, and to maintain so steady a regard to them, as that neither the applause of men may be able to transport, nor their neglect to deject us, whenever we are called to speak in his name. May our souls be under the most affectionate conviction of our own personal concern in those sacred truths we deliver to others; and may it be our care to recommend religion to our hearers, by the regularity and sincerity of our own conversation, as well as by the strength of reason, and the warmth of exhortation!

You tell me, sir, that you are frequently reflecting on those discourses that we have had relative to the vanity of those worldly enjoyments that present themselves to our pursuit; and you mention the subject with peculiar emphasis. Will you pardon me, dear sir, if I fancy you have met with a mistress in your gay world, who has extorted from you these pathetical complaints. If it be so, my own acquaintance with that insinuating passion will engage me both to pity you under its anxieties, and to caution you against its extravagance. We cannot be too careful to guard our hearts on a side where nature is so ready to fail us; and if we find that our souls are opening themselves too fondly to any creature, we ought to remember, that it is beneath the dignity of