say with a deliberate assurance, that they are elegant beyond any thing I had before formed an idea of. May you and your art, which I suppose will die with you, be long continued, you by your conversation to refine our species, and your needle to adorn it. And may the next trouble of this kind which I give you be for my wedding-day.

I RECEIVED your friendly letter, to which I should have been inclined to affix some other epithets of a more panegyrical nature, if I had not observed that, somewhere towards the close of it, you are pleased to dignify it with the title of tedious and insipid. This is so abusive a lampoon upon my understanding, and at the same time so great an injury to your own, which could not but have discovered a great many beauties in it, even though it had been written by a stranger, that I have taken it into my head to be very angry with you. And after this insult on myself and my friend, whose honour is as dear to me as my own, I am come to a resolution neither to

affect your humility nor gratify your vanity with one word more of applause; that is, if I can for a while interrupt that communication between my heart and my pen, which is always open when I write to you. And, indeed, it is happy for me that I am thus decently excused from saying any thing upon a subject of which I am unable to speak with that admiration and pleasure which I should desire to express if I spoke at all.

Having thus disclaimed compliments, I have nothing to do but to fall to business. I desire you would give my humble, or if you please, hearty service to my good friend your father, whom I thank for his kind intention with relation to Mrs. Wright. If I had not known the generosity of his temper, I should not have presumed to propose the case. I have heard lately that her necessities are very pressing; but no doubt she will gladly wait his time. Since hearing the above, I have seen two letters from her sister, written with such an air of piety, good sense, and politeness, that I own they very much confirm me in my desire to serve a person for whom so agreeable a woman is intimately concerned.

Our dear friend Mr. David Some still continues in a very languishing condition, and is ordered from the bath, I fear without any prospect of a cure. I own his indisposition is an affliction which I feel at my heart. But I bless God for those reviving considerations which you, sir, suggest. May God imprint them more deeply on both our hearts, and clear up our own evidences of an interest in the Redeemer,

and then they cannot be recollected without being felt.

I

My dear charmer has been abroad for a considerable time, but I expect her home every moment. need not tell you that I am impatiently desirous of seeing her. Yet I am utterly uncertain whether I shall be transported with delight, or distracted with anxiety—I am ashamed to confess, her first look will determine the question. What unpardonable weakness in a man who sometimes calls himself a philosopher, and who has just been running over some delightful passages in a certain letter, which he must not here mention, dated from Finsbury!

It is entirely uncertain whether I shall make a journey to London this year. If I do, my stay will not be many hours. However, I think to be at St. Albans, and if Mr. Massey returns about the beginning of August, I will not fail to wait upon him thither on horse-back.

I

am,

Dear Sir,

Your most obliged and affectionate Servant,

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

MY DEAR SISTER,

TO MY SISTER.

Burton, May 29. Ir is a great convenience when writing to those who love us, that we need not stretch our wits upon the rack to find out something to please them. They are revived with the very sight of the hand, though they do not understand the language, and the lines and letters may reel backward and forward like drunken men, if they can but spell out that their friend is well, the main business is dispatched, and they can spare, though they may not altogether slight, further amusement. I hope, my dear sister, it is in this view that you regard my worthless epistles; at least it is my interest at this time to believe so, if I would please myself with the thought of pleasing you; for I have exhausted my wit, and tired my hand with writing letters from half an hour past four in the morning to half an hour past three in the afternoon. If this letter had not been sent in this way, I should have told you as a great piece of news, that my cousin Doddridge was so kind as to take a walk to see me, and has stayed with me about three weeks. I must, however, refer you to himself for the history of his own adventure, only I must tell you what his modesty may not allow him to publish, that ever since he came down he has been very diverting and very useful, and that I am in doleful dumps to think of parting with him on Monday next.

I am glad to hear of the health of some of my

friends, and sorry for the misfortunes of others; but must not enter into particulars. I have been at Bedford; where Mr. Grainger lives very handsomely. Mr. Wood is returned to his old station at St. Albans. Miss Kitty is well, and gives her service, but as to my affair with her, I question whether there be one person in the world who can tell what to make of it. I am sure I cannot. This only I know, that I am very fond of her; and if you expect a counter-part to that sentence, you had best consult my cousin. I must refer a great deal more to another opportunity, not being willing to lame my hand with writing any thing more at present, but that I am,

Your affectionate Brother and Servant,

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

Service to my brother, to whom perhaps I may write next, and all other friends. My cousin gives his service, and will bring the letter himself to convince you it was no compliment.

TO MISS KITTY.

DEAR MADAM,

June 4, 1725.

I HAVE SO little opportunity of conversing with you alone, that I am forced to take this method of expressing my concern, and indeed my amazement, at what has just passed between us. I know you to