P.S. My thanks attend Mr. Ecles for his kind recommendation to Hertford. Had many of the people there been of his character, I should have thought myself very unhappy in their disapprobation.

TO LADY RUSSELL.

April 15, 1727. THE subjects of my letters are so very melancholy that I am afraid your ladyship will look upon it as an unhappy omen, even to observe my hand on the superscription.

My last informed you of the death of my dear friend and brother, Mr. David Some; and I have now to tell you that we have lost good Mr. Ragg. He died on Saturday morning, about three o'clock, and the bearers of Mr. Some's pall were not separated, when they received an invitation to perform the same sad office for Mr. Ragg. May God teach us to be suitably impressed by these awful and repeated visitations.

Mr. Ragg had perceived himself declining apace for the last three weeks of his life, yet he did not imagine that death was quite so near; nor can I learn, from those who attended him, that in his last moments he in any way intimated that he found himself to be dying. He had been at Lutterworth but the Tuesday before, and dined with Mr. Morris on the Wednesday. On Saturday night, after I heard of

his death, I received a letter from him, which had been written but a few hours before he expired. It related to the death of Mr. David Some, and intimated an uncertain expectation of attending his funeral. I could perceive, by the manner of his writing, that he could hardly hold his pen. He studied the most concise manner of expressing himself, and used every possible abbreviation, subscribing himself my almost dying friend. You, madam, who have a heart formed for the tenderest as well as the sublimest sentiments, will easily imagine how such a letter struck me.

I most earnestly recommend myself to your ladyship's prayers, for indeed these repeated afflictions press heavily upon me. What shall we say on these mysterious dispensations? Surely he is now "a God, that heweth the branches from us ;"--but still he is the God of Israel, mighty to save! May the beloved friends, who are thus removed from earth to heaven, attract our affections more and more to that blessed world where they have found their rest, and where I hope that, through the divine grace, we have chosen ours.

Mr. Arthur tells me that you are out of town, I hope it is no unhappy occasion that calls you to Carshalton, where I suppose your ladyship to be; if it be not, I heartily congratulate you on the pleasure which I am sure you must find in the company of Mrs. Scawen. My humble services ever wait upon that lady. I hope God will long continue her valuable life, and lean to the many prayers which are

offered on her account, by all who have the happiness to know her, and who have any relish for good sense and piety.

Pardon me, madam, that my letter is so large; for there is a secret charm in addressing a person of so excellent a character, which cannot easily be broken through; yet I am sensible that what I offer as an excuse is, in another view, an aggravation of my fault; for the importance of your time must be in proportion to the value of your character. I will therefore engross no more of it, but subscribe myself, with the utmost respect,

Honoured Madam,

Your Ladyship's most obliged

and most obedient Servant,

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

TO MRS. HANNAH CLARK.

April 19, 1727. My dear Clio begins her last letter with an air of severity, which I own my long silence might seem to justify; yet she chides me with such a feeling of concern for my friendship, and of candid readiness to accept of any reasonable excuse, that I think I have more reason for self-congratulation than for complaint. But alas, madam, when you know the circumstances of the case, you will own that I am an

object of pity rather than of blame. I had begun a long answer to your former letter, nor do I remember when I had written with livelier sentiments of the fondest friendship; but I was obliged, by some accident or other to break off. However, madam, I intended to resume the pleasing task on Monday night, in order that I might send it on Tuesday by a private hand; but on the Lord's day evening, as I returned from Kibworth, I called to see a dear and intimate friend who used frequently to accompany me thither, and who had been, for a considerable time, in a declining state, when, to my unspeakable grief, I found him dead. It is impossible for me to express how much it struck my mind. You will believe my sorrow must be great indeed, when I assure you that it equalled what I had felt for the death of my nearest relations, and for the loss of a mistress whom I loved from my very heart; but when you know his character, you will not be surprised. Never have I seen in any person of his age, which was only twenty, such an agreeable mixture of piety, wit, learning, honour, politeness, sweetness of temper, modesty, prudence, universal charity, and the most endearing friendship; in one word, he had every quality that could adorn the Christian, the scholar, or the man. Seldom have I seen any of these particulars evinced in an equal degree in any with whom I have conversed, and never, in the whole compass of my acquaintance, did I observe such a conjunction of them in so young a person. You will then easily believe that he must have been unusually beloved in life,

This was another very afflictive stroke, for Mr. Ragg was an admirable preacher and fine scholar, and I believe no man walked more steadily with God, or, in the midst of so many graces and accomplishments, had so humble an opinion of himself. He lived at a great distance from me, and as he was about to leave Mr. Jennings when I came, there was not that particular intimacy between us that existed between dear Mr. David Some and myself; yet, during his last illness he came nearer, and our friendship increased daily. We composed part of a sermon together a few weeks ago, which I shall preach at his funeral, at Kibworth. He was the most complete pattern of resignation and patience, under a heavy affliction, that I ever beheld. I received a letter from him the night after I heard of his death, which he had written the day before he died. He seemed to have been hardly able to use his pen, and subscribed himself my "almost dying friend."

I have since followed him to the grave, and the next day preached twice. Let your own friendly generous heart then judge, whether my silence is not excusable; and believe me, my dear charmer, that in the midst of these fresh-flowing sorrows, it is a comfort for me to reflect on the divine goodness, in continuing to me such a friend as my Clio, and filling her heart with so much tenderness towards her affectionate and faithful

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.