P.S. The small-pox is now in the town. Mr. Some, Mr. Arthur, and our ladies here give their service. I have this day been preaching a sermon from Psalm xxvii. 10, to the remains of an afflicted family, both the heads of which have been removed almost together. Surely I need not add, that I have been blessing God for that generous friend whom he raised up to be a father to me, when my father and mother were no more; for when I told you it was sacrament-day, you would easily imagine, sir, that I had been thinking of you.

TO MY BROTHER.

March 10, A. D. 1726.

DEAR BROTHER,

Restoration! Peace!! and Liberty!!! THESE few lines come to let you know that I am well; and that I lost my mistress yesterday about twenty minutes after four in the afternoon; and that I am

Your very affectionate Brother and Servant,
PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

DEAR MADAM,

me.

TO MISS KITTY *.

March 21, 1726.

I WAS exceedingly surprised at what you said to me yesterday at Kibworth; and indeed my amazement was so great, that I hardly knew how to answer you upon the spot. It was indeed no convenient place for a debate, therefore I choose rather to rectify your mistake by a letter. I assure you, madam, nothing can be more unjust than the charge you advanced against I acknowledge you have now fully convinced me that I must no longer flatter myself with the hope of enjoying you as my wife, as you insist upon a surprising demand which it will be impossible for me ever to comply with, and which I cannot entertain the least thought of submitting to! But though you forbid me to entertain any thought of conversing with you any longer as a mistress, you may depend upon it, madam, that I shall always regard you as one of the most valuable and excellent of my friends, and should think myself highly blameable, if my behaviour should give you any just ground to question the sincerity of my gratitude and respect. As for my not coming in when I called at the door, I am sure it was no intended neglect or affront. In fact it was so late that I was afraid it would be dark before I could get to Wagstone. And indeed I found the way so bad, that in all probability I

* After parting with her.

should have been in the utmost danger if I had stayed but a quarter of an hour longer. I need not mention your coming to the door, because I confess I have still so much fondness for you, that I cannot see you without some discomposure; and judging of you by myself, I was ready to imagine it might have been an uneasiness to you, which I thought so much the more probable, because you have often told me, that if we parted you desired to see me as little as possible. You perceive, madam, it was really my respect and tenderness which determined me to this conduct, which you are pleased to call barbarous.. I am heartily glad that I can so confidently affirm, that most of your suspicion and resentment which has given both of us so much uneasiness in this affair has been fully as groundless as this.

I cannot but lament those unfortunate mistakes which seem on both sides to have destroyed the expectation of that happiness which we might otherwise have found in each other. But you may depend upon it, madam, that in whatever place or circumstances Providence may fix me, you will always command a very high share in my affection and esteem, and a very sincere remembrance in my daily prayers.

I am, Madam,

Your most obedient and obliged Servant,

PHILIP DODDRIDGE.

DEAR MADAM,

TO MISS KITTY.

Harborough, April 1, 1726.

I RECEIVED your incomparable letter as soon as I came home yesterday evening, and can hardly describe the uncommon mixture of pleasure and torment with which I perused it. I have long entertained a very high opinion of you, but I must own that here you seem to have exceeded even the brightest idea which a lover had formed of the elegance of your style and the vivacity of your wit. I am sure, at least, I could with a great deal of pleasure sit down to write a copious panegyric upon it, though I could not pretend to number its beauties and particularly to descant upon each. But it is my unhappy fate to be obliged to endeavour to pull it to pieces; and nothing but my concern to justify my conduct to you, which that charming letter so severely attacks, could have engaged me to undertake so disagreeable a task.

I profess the force of your oratory is such, that when I first read your letter, I was readier to imagine I had been really to blame than that so excellent a creature could be in the wrong, and that it was madness to give her up if she could be secured upon any terms that were not highly criminal. But I have since slept a little upon it, and but a little! I have been anxiously reviewing your letter, and seriously reflecting upon the whole of your conduct, and I have looked up to God for direction to enable

me to judge of it as I ought; and upon the whole, madam, I am fully convinced of what will perhaps surprise you, that notwithstanding all the plausible things which you have advanced to justify yourself and to condemn me, my behaviour has been always fair and consistent, and that I have been much injured in the affair; though as I am sensible this injury has been built upon your involuntary mistakes, so that I can easily pardon, and heartily esteem the excellent lady from whom it was received.

I apprehend, madam, that the main question in debate between us, is whether I have given you any reason to believe that I did not love you, or that I preferred any other person at the time when you entertained those suspicions of me, and proceeded to such dreadful extremities, upon the supposition that they had a rational foundation. If I did, I very readily acknowledge that your late conduct towards me has not only been strictly just, but far more indulgent than I could reasonably have expected. But if the reverse has been the fact, then you yourself must allow, that I had reason to apprehend that a temper inclinable to such groundless suspicions would be the occasion of much future uneasiness, and will rather applaud the strength of my resolution, than accuse the weakness of my love, in accepting the dismission which you had so often been offering to me. To prove that I did heartily love you, I need only appeal to those professions which I made of it to yourself and to all that I conversed with. For the sincerity of these professions