These statements rather surprise us; considering what the writer of them had devolving upon him in the care of his academy, in his extensive correspondence, in his numerous and valuable publications, that he should, amidst all this, pay so particular and minute attention to the state of the Church of which he was pastor. It shows strikingly the activity, ardour, and entire devotedness of his spirit. But, alas! it was too active and ardent for the material framework long to sustain the efforts to which it was impelled. Hence the very next entry we meet with is, "That the Rev. Philip Doddridge, Doctor of Divinity, after being twenty-one years pastor of this Church, died at Lisbon, to which place he had resorted for the recovery of his health, on the 26th of October, 1751, we may truly say, to the unspeakable loss of this Church." How he lived and how he died is very extensively known, by the Memoir published by Orton--the "Centenary Memorial" of him recently sent forth by Stoughton; so that, though we would fain linger over his memory, yet anything further respecting him would seem to be out of place here. We happen to have in our possession a copy of the poem sacred to the memory of Doddridge, as it was first published by its author, Mr. Henry Moore, who had been one of the Doctor's students, and was afterwards settled as a minister in Devonshire. It is the same poem in substance as is given by Orton at the close of his 'Memoirs of Doddridge'; but it is there considerably altered from this first copy. It is thus inscribed to Mrs. Doddridge:-- Permit me, Madam, to present to you the following poem, as a testimony of my high veneration for the memory of my deceased tutor, and my tender sympathy with his afflicted family. I am, Madam, your most obliged humble servant, H---- M----. _Northampton, February, 1st, 1752._ We extract the following lines from pages 7-9:-- O, snatch'd for ever, ever from our view, Thou best, thou greatest of thy kind, adieu! Thou, in whose ample, comprehensive mind, All the ten thousand streams of science join'd;-- All the fair train of social virtues smil'd, And bright religion beam'd divinely mild. Ah, love shall listen with delight no more, While from thy lips Truth pours her sacred store;-- No more, while studious to instruct and please, You temper serious sense with graceful ease;-- No more, with zeal for God and virtue fired, By reason govern'd, and by heaven inspired, Thy various eloquence our ears shall charm, Command our passions, and our bosoms warm; Bid in our breast seraphic raptures roll, And spread the generous flame from soul to soul; While sinners start, by conscious terror stung, And tremble at the thunder of thy tongue.