To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS, Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon. DEAR PHILLIPS, When I wrote you by last post, I did not imagine I should be tempted to trouble you again so soon: but I now sit down with a heart so full that it cannot contain itself; though I am under such agitation of spirits, that you are to expect neither method nor connexion in this address--We have been this day within a hair’s breadth of losing honest Matthew Bramble, in consequence of a cursed accident, which I will endeavour to explain.--In crossing the country to get into the post road, it was necessary to ford a river, and we that were a-horseback passed without any danger or difficulty; but a great quantity of rain having fallen last night and this morning, there was such an accumulation of water, that a mill-head gave way, just as the coach was passing under it, and the flood rushed down with such impetuosity, as first floated, and then fairly overturned the carriage in the middle of the stream--Lismahago and I, and the two servants, alighting instantaneously, ran into the river to give all the assistance in our power.--Our aunt, Mrs Tabitha, who had the good fortune to be uppermost, was already half way out of the coach window, when her lover approaching, disengaged her entirely; but, whether his foot slipt, or the burthen was too great, they fell over head and ears in each others’ arms. He endeavoured more than once to get up, and even to disentangle himself from her embrace, but she hung about his neck like a mill-stone (no bad emblem of matrimony), and if my man had not proved a stanch auxiliary, those two lovers would in all probability have gone hand in hand to the shades below--For my part, I was too much engaged to take any cognizance of their distress.--I snatched out my sister by the hair of the head, and, dragging her to the bank, recollected that my uncle had, not yet appeared--Rushing again into the stream, I met Clinker hauling ashore Mrs Jenkins, who looked like a mermaid with her hair dishevelled about her ears; but, when I asked if his master was safe, he forthwith shook her from him, and she must have gone to pot, if a miller had not seasonably come to her relief.--As for Humphry, he flew like lightning, to the coach, that was by this time filled with water, and, diving into it, brought up the poor ‘squire, to all appearance, deprived of life--It is not in my power to describe what I felt at this melancholy spectacle--it was such an agony as baffles all description! The faithful Clinker, taking him up in his arms, as if he had been an infant of six months, carried him ashore, howling most piteously all the way, and I followed him in a transport of grief and consternation--When he was laid upon the grass and turned from side to side, a great quantity of water ran out at his mouth, then he opened his eyes, and fetched a deep sigh. Clinker perceiving these signs of life, immediately tied up his arm with a garter, and, pulling out a