Hervey was very happy in the house of his friend, and wrote to Mrs. Whitefield, at Bristol, with a playfulness which was unusual in him:— “This leaves your family in good health, and me, whom you appoint steward, like Gideon’s soldiers,—_faint, but pursuing_; faint with bodily languors, but following after that amiable, adorable God, whose loving-kindness is better than life. We go on comfortably, and want for nothing, but your company. Mr. Cruttenden says, I live like a king, and dine every day in state. I tell him, No, I am nothing more than lord high-steward of your majesty’s household; but, since he will have it that I am a monarch, I this day began to act in character, and commanded and charged our trusty and well-beloved Robert Cruttenden, Esq., not to be awanting in his attendance on our royal person. I hope my friend’s jest is a good omen. I hope we shall be kings to our God, and reign over the rebels within, and tread the world under our feet, and sit in heavenly places with our exalted and royal Head, Christ Jesus.” In the month of September, Whitefield embarked for Georgia; and, on his arrival there, wrote to Hervey as follows:— “_February 1, 1752._ “MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,—I long to write to you, and inform you, that, I love you in the bowels of Jesus Christ. This leaves unworthy me, endeavouring to do something for Him on this side the water. Glory be to His great name! He causes His work to prosper in my worthless hands. Follow me with your prayers; and who knows but we may meet once more on this side heaven. I find our dear Mr. Hervey is to be detained longer from thence. I think he will have to bury many stronger men. I wish Lisbon may be blessed to Dr. Doddridge. I hope you write to Lady Huntingdon, and see her frequently. I was rejoiced to hear, from my dear yoke-fellow, that, her Ladyship was bravely: this was joy indeed. It is a new year. God quicken my tardy pace, and help me to do much work in a little time! This is my highest ambition.” Dr. Doddridge, the beloved and honoured friend of Hervey, was already dead. The great Dissenter, in feeble health, had embarked for Portugal, in the same month as Whitefield started for America. He landed at Lisbon on October 13th, 1751; and, thirteen days afterwards, peacefully expired. In writing to Lady Frances Shirley, in reference to this event, Hervey intimates, that, heaven to him was now more attractive than ever. The removal of his friends made it easier for himself to die. Like Whitefield, he entered upon the year 1752, in the spirit of ardent gratitude, and entire devotedness to the service of his Saviour.