and times, the friends and labours of Watts would be incomplete. One hundred and twenty years have passed away since Philip Doddridge died, but his name and many of his works are still as sweet and fragrant as ever. His “Life of Colonel Gardiner” is still one of the most interesting of religious biographies; his “Family Expositor” still holds its place in the family; his theological lectures are still an invaluable curriculum; his correspondence is full of entertainment and interest; his hymns are still sung in all our churches, and that to which we have referred, which ought assuredly to be spoken of as his, “O God of Bethel,” sounded the other day down the aisles of Westminster, as the body of Livingstone was lowered into the grave. Doddridge’s body, of course, was denied a resting-place at Lisbon by the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, but it was permitted to repose in the burying-ground of the English Factory. The great earthquake, which occurred shortly after, left his grave undisturbed, and it is a spot of holy ground unto this day.[28] [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER IX. The Countess of Hertford and Mrs. Rowe. One of the most considerable of Watts’ correspondents and apparently intimate friends, was Frances, Countess of Hertford, afterwards Duchess of Somerset. This lady was the daughter of the Honourable Mr. Thynne, brother to Lord Weymouth; she married Algernon, Earl of Hertford, son of Charles Seymour, Duke of Somerset, who succeeded to the honours and estates of his father on December 2nd, 1748, _i.e._ about a week after the death of Dr. Watts. The Countess appears to have been a woman of great piety, amiability, and accomplishments. Thomson, in his “Seasons,” addresses her: “O Hertford, fitted or to shine in courts With unaffected grace, or walk the plain With innocence and meditation joined In soft assemblage, listen to my song, Which thy own season paints; when Nature all Is blooming, and benevolent like thee.”