entertainments and employments, which do not immediately relate to that world, whither he is gone. Yet in the midst of my sorrows, it is with great pleasure I reflect on the divine goodness in continuing to me many excellent friends, and among them your Ladyship. I desire your prayers, that God would support me under this affliction and do me good by it; and that, now he hath removed a person of so promising a character, he would pour out more abundant influences of his spirit upon me, and other young ministers, who remain, that we may be fitter to supply the want of his services upon earth, and to meet him with honour and pleasure in heaven."-The day after he had attended Mr. Some's funeral, he received the news of the death of the other friend, Mr. Ragg, and was invited to his funeral. These repeated afflictions pressed heavy upon his affectionate spirit; but it appears, from his letters and papers wrote at this time, that they had a happy tendency to increase his seriousness and fervour.

The account he sent to a fellow-pupil of the last scenes of Mr. Ragg's life is so agreeable and instructive, that I cannot persuade myself to omit it. "You desire an account of the illness and death of good Mr. Ragg; and I will transmit the most remarkable circumstances to you, in the same order, as they present themselves to my mind. He was taken ill about ten months before his death, and immediately obliged to leave his place, as assistant to Mr. Watson of Mount-Sorrel, both in the school and the pulpit, and was never afterwards capable of public work. Though his circumstances were low, providence took care of him, so that he never wanted; but could support the charge of many expensive journies and medicines. Persons in plentiful circumstances and of the most valuable characters, were fond of an opportunity of entertaining him at their houses for a considerable time, and contributed generously to his support. I mention this, as an encouragement to myself and you, to repose ourselves chearfully on the care of providence, if we should be brought into such melancholy circumstances. I saw him frequently, and my esteem and affection for him rose, in proportion to the intimacy of our acquaintance.-He had formed his notions of practical religion upon a deep and attentive study of the divine nature and perfections; and placed religion in the conformity of our wills to the will of God, rather than in any height of extatic devotion, which the calmness of his temper did not so frequently admit. He considered submission to afflictive providences, as a most considerable part of it;

and thought it wisdom to confine his regards to present duty, without any solicitous concern about future events, which are in the hands of God. His powerful sense of the divine perfections gave him the most venerable and exalted ideas of that happiness, which God hath prepared for his favourites; and it was plain, through his whole life, that he regarded the interests of time and sense as nothing when compared with this. As these governing maxims of his life had engaged him to a very diligent improvement of his mind, and unwearied endeavours for the happiness of others, while he was capable of active services, so under the decays of nature, he was remarkably influenced by them. He was always feeble and frequently in pain; yet, I never heard one murmuring repining word, in those months of vanity, which he was made to possess, and those wearisome nights, which were appointed for him. Nothing could be more amiable, than that serenity of spirit, which he expressed through the whole course of his illness. He was as diligent in searching out proper assistance, and as exact in following the physician's prescriptions, with regard to medicine, diet and exercise, as if all his hopes had been in this life; and yet to all appearance, as easy in mind under disappointments and increasing illness, as if he felt no disorder and apprehended no danger. I once persuaded him to pray with me in the chamber, where we lay together; and never was I more affected. Methinks in that prayer I saw his very heart. He expressed the most entire resignation to God, and seemed to have no will, no interest of his own Under extreme illness and in the near view of death, he referred health, usefulness and life to the divine disposal with as much chearfulness, as he could in his most prosperous days.-When his body was weakest, his reason seemed as strong as ever. A few weeks before his death, I was talking over with him the plan of a sermon on the Perfection of Knowledge in Heaven; and when I mentioned this obvious. reflection, How unreasonable is it, that a desire of knowledge should make any good man unwilling to die, he observed, that our present enquiries do not serve to give us full satisfaction, as to the subjects of them; but rather to make us better acquainted with the difficulties that attend those subjects, that so we may have a more exquisite relish for the discoveries, which shall be made in a future state. Such a sentiment was peculiarly beautiful, as coming from the mouth of a person, who could hardly speak or breathe. When we were talking of the uneasiness, which some worthy men give themselves through a fond attachment to particular schemes, or unscriptural phrases, he

said, bigotry is certainly a very unwholesome thing, and I am afraid these good men will ruin their constitutions by being s angry with their brethren. He said many other good things with a very agreeable air, though he was so very weak; for he wore an habitual smile upon his countenance, which was peculiarly amiable, while he was under such a pressure of affliction.I never heard any person speak with a deeper sense of the evil of sin, than he did the last time I was in his company. He seemed particularly to enter into the aggravated circumstances, which attended the sins of christians, especially ministers.. Innocent and pious as his life had been, he seemed to have as affectionate an apprehension of the need he had of the atonement and intercession of the redeemer, as the most profligate sinner could have had in the like circumstance.-There is a great deal of reason to believe, that the thoughts of death had been familiar to his mind: Frequent illness for almost seven years had deeply impressed them. Yet when it made its nearer approach, he started at it. In the beginning of his last illness, he seemed earnestly to desire it; and to the last declared, that he should deliberately chuse it, rather than the continuance of an useless, afflicted life, and that he had no anxious fears as to the consequence of it. Yet he told me, that he felt nature recoil at the apprehension of it, and that a life of vigour and usefulness seemed to have something more charming in it than he had formerly seen. When he found his sickness so painful, and as much as he could well endure, he seemed to fear the more severe conflict, and dreaded it in one view, while he longed for it in another. This sentiment he expressed, naturally enough, in two lines which he spoke extempore to me, as he lay on his bed,

"Tir'd out with life's dead weight, I panting lie,

"A wretch, unfit to live, awkward to die,

He smiled at the oddness of the phrase, but told me, he could find none that was fitter to express some remainder of natural reluctance, in opposition to his rational and determinate choice. This awkwardness to die, as he called it, proceeded from a weakness of spirit, which started at every thing shocking and violent, and rendered him incapable of those lively views of future happiness, which he had sometimes experienced in more vigorous days. Though he had not those transporting joys, which some good men have had in their dying moments, yet his heart was fixed, trusting in God.-About a fortnight before he died, we kept a day of prayer on account of him and Mr. Some. As I went into the pulpit, he said to me, very

affectionately, Don't be importunate for my recovery; only pray that God would give me a more lively sense of his presence, and that I may pass my trial well, whatever it may be. He apprehended his approaching end, and calmly desired to be left alone for some time. He then called in his mother and friends, talked seriously and chearfully to them; after a painful struggle, he revived for a few minutes, expressed his confidence in God, and humble joyful expectation of approaching glory and died very easily. I wish these hints may be of service towards strengthening your faith, and awakening your desire after that glorious world, whither our excellent brother is gone. Let us endeavour to express our friendship by such offices, as may fit us to meet him and each other there, where nothing shall separate us, or impair the joy of our mutual conversation."

In 1729 he was chosen assistant to Mr. Some at Harborough; the congregation there being desirous to enjoy his labours more frequently than before: and he preached there, and at Kibworth alternately. It was highly improbable, that such a burning and shining light should be long confined to so narrow a sphere. Some large congregations having heard much, and known something, of his worth, sought his settlement with them. But his regard to Mr. Some, love to his own congregation, and desire to have more time for study, than he could have had in a populous town and large society, led him to decline their application. In 1723, he had an invitation to the pastoral care of a large congregation in London; but he thought himself too young to undertake it; and was also discouraged by the unhappy differences which at that time subsisted between the dissenting ministers there, about subscribing or not subscribing to Articles of Faith in the words of Man's device, as a test of Orthodoxy; the majority of them being non-subscribers. In his answer to the gentleman who transmitted the invitation to him, after mentioning some other objections to the proposal, he adds, "I might also have been required to subscribe, which I am resolved never to do. We have no disputes on that matter in these parts. A neighbouring gentleman once endeavoured to introduce a subscription; but it was effectually over-ruled by the interposition of Mr. Some of Harborough, Mr. Norris of Welford, and Mr. Jennings, my tutor. I shall content myself here with being a benevolent well-wisher to the interests of liberty and peace."

In 1728, he received a pressing invitation from one of the dissenting congregations at Nottingham, and a few months after, from the other. There were many recommending cir

cumstances in these invitations. The affection many of the people had expressed for him, and the prospect of greater opportunities of usefulness in such a situation, led him to take some time to consider the affair. It appears, from some account he hath left of it, that he proceeded in the deliberation with much caution, and carefully examined his heart, lest any mean, unworthy motives should influence him. He foresaw some inconveniences attending a settlement there, but professeth his readiness to expose himself to them, if he was convinced that duty required it. After he had weighed all circumstances, consulted his wisest friends and sought divine direction, he chose to decline both these applications, though a settlement at Nottingham would have been greatly favourable to his worldly interest. I desire, saith he, upon the whole, to make this use of the affair, to be so much the more diligent in study and watchful in devotion; since I see, that if ever providence fixes me with any considerable society, I shall find a great deal to exercise my gifts and graces, and have less time for study and retirement, than I have here."

CHAP. III.

His Entrance on the Work of a Tutor.

WHEN he left the Academy, his tutor Mr. Jennings, a few

weeks before his death, much pressed him to keep in view the improvement of his course of academical lectures, and to study in such a manner, as to refer what occurred to him, to the compendiums which his tutor had drawn up, that they might be illustrated and enriched. Mr. Doddridge did not then suspect, what he afterwards learned, that Mr. Jennings had given it as his judgment, that, if it should please God to remove him early in life, he thought Mr. Doddridge the most likely of any of his pupils, to pursue the schemes which he had formed; and which indeed were very far from being complete, as he died about eight years after he had undertaken that profession.

During this his pupil's settlement at Kibworth, he, agreeable to the advice of his tutor, reviewed his course of lectures with An ingenious young gentleman, Mr. Thomas Benyon, son of Dr. Samuel Benyon, a celebrated minister and tutor at