Death of the Earl of Huntingdon--His Lordship’s Epitaph--Letter
from Sir John Thorold--Lady Huntingdon’s Piety--Letter to
Dr. Doddridge--Lady Kilmorey--Duchess of Somerset--Welsh
Preachers--Lady Frances Hastings--Mrs. Edwin--Lady Huntingdon’s
adherence to the Church of England--Letter from Dr. Watts to Dr.
Doddridge.
Afflictions seldom come alone. The loss of Lady Huntingdon’s children
was soon followed by the decease of the Earl, who departed this
life on the 13th of October, 1746, at his house, in Downing-street,
Westminster, in the fiftieth year of his age. His Lordship (who, it
was remarkable, had hardly ever dreamt in his life before) dreamed
one night, that death, in the semblance of a skeleton, appeared at
the bed’s foot, and, after standing a while, untucked the bed-clothes
at the bottom, and crept up to the top of the bed (under the clothes)
and lay between him and his lady. His Lordship told his dream, in
the morning, to the Countess, who affected to make light of it; but
the Earl died of a fit of apoplexy, in about a fortnight after. This
circumstance was narrated by her Ladyship to Mr. Toplady, at Romford,
in Essex, April 12, 1776, and was printed in his posthumous works.[32]
The death of Lord Huntingdon formed a new era in the life of his
devoted Countess. The loss of children, and the decease of her Lord,
gave such a blow to the elasticity of her mind as a loss like this at
her time of life was calculated to inflict. She had a fine bust of
herself placed upon the tomb of her deceased husband, and the widowed
bosom, in which his memory was enshrined, remained as cold to earthly
passion as the insensible marble amidst the symbols of death.
During Lord Huntingdon’s life, her Ladyship’s means of usefulness were
necessarily circumscribed. Yet all that she possessed was expended in
promoting the extension of the Redeemer’s kingdom, or in relieving
the temporal distress of the indigent. Unlike the summer bird, which
flies on the first approach of the winter’s storm, the chilly blasts
of adversity had peculiar attractions for her benevolent heart. The
beautiful description of an amiable writer was not more applicable to
his deceased friend, than to his illustrative personage: “She was seen
wherever disappointment and losses had left nothing but the attraction
of misery. She and the selfish crew were sure to meet very near the
door--_they_ leaving their friends when they found nothing more
was to be enjoyed, and _she_ hastening thither as soon as she
found something was necessary to be done.”
Lady Huntingdon was left a widow in the thirty-ninth year of her age,
with the entire management of her children and their fortunes, which
she carefully attended to, and improved with the greatest fidelity.
Her family affairs necessarily occupied her attention during Lord
Huntingdon’s life; but now, become her own mistress by the demise of
his Lordship, she resolved to devote herself wholly to the service of
Christ and to the souls redeemed by his blood.
Few characters have been more erroneously estimated by the world than
that of Lady Huntingdon. She was, in fact, neither the gloomy fanatic,
the weak visionary, nor the abstracted devotee which different parties
have delighted to paint her.
The circumstance of her having forbidden the publication of her papers,
and her retired mode of life, for even her charities were principally
distributed through the medium of her chaplains, were the causes that
baffled the curiosity of those who felt desirous of discovering the
motives which could tempt a woman to resign the allurements of fashion,
frivolity, and high station, and to devote upwards of _a hundred
thousand pounds_ during her life for the extension of peculiar
religious opinions: and that too without any view towards the personal
distinction which has been too often a leading inducement with the
founders of new sects.
Instead of giving way to unavailing grief under this afflicting
bereavement, or suffering her mind to prey upon itself in seclusion,
Lady Huntingdon endeavoured to find comfort in affliction by those
unremitting exertions for the extension of divine truth which
characterised every part of her life. The first six months of her
widowhood were spent at Donnington Park, which she continued to occupy
till the young Earl of Huntingdon became of age. The members of the
little societies in her neighbourhood were perpetually in her thoughts,
and her heart was penetrated with the most lively concern for their
welfare. Although her endeavours during this season of affliction
were chiefly exercised for their spiritual benefit, yet was her heart
enlarged also toward all the children of God, by whatever name they
were distinguished, or wherever the bounds of their habitation were
fixed.
The consolations of friendship were highly valued by the Countess. To
her most excellent friend, Sir John Thorold, she expressed herself
deeply indebted for the paternal interest which he took in her
concerns, and his unremitting exertions for the improvement of her
children’s fortunes. Sir John was a man of piety, and the early and
steady friend of her deceased Lord.[36]
From this period Lady Huntingdon’s devotion to Christ was sincere and
unreserved. Whatever she had formerly admired and pursued, she now
voluntarily laid at the feet of her Lord: and dedicated her time, her
studies, her acquisitions, and her substance to the service of God,
and the furtherance of his cause in the world; desiring at once to
present him with her whole being, as a living sacrifice, expressive of
her entire devotion. She had no interest to serve, no inclination to
gratify, nor any connection to maintain, but such as was necessary to
prove the sincerity of her zeal, or the fervour of her love. Wherever
she appeared, she breathed the spirit of devotion; and wherever she
was familiarly known, the purity, the fervour, the resolution, and
the constancy of that devotion were universally apparent. Possessed
of that faith which “overcometh the world,” she beheld it with the
feelings of her tempted Master; anxious for its good, but despising its
yoke; prepared to labour in its service, but resolute to reject its
rewards; deaf to its promises, blind to its prospects, and dead to its
enjoyments.
Wherever she was called by the providence of God, she was acknowledged
as a “burning and shining light.” The common lights of Christianity
were eclipsed before her; and even her spiritual friends could never
stand in her presence, without being overwhelmed with a consciousness
of their own inferiority and unprofitableness. Amongst innumerable
instances which might be adduced, I shall merely add the testimony
of the late excellent Mr. Toplady, who considered her Ladyship “the
most precious saint of God he ever knew.” The following letters to
Dr. Doddridge, written at this period, prove the love and veneration
which he had for a character of such inestimable worth; and while they
exhibit her extraordinary zeal for the glory of God, which blazed forth
with such undiminished fervour through every stage of her existence,
and continued with unabated vigour till removed to her eternal
rest, will cause every reader to blush at his own ingratitude and
luke-warmness.
“February 23, 1747.
“My very worthy and much-esteemed Friend--I would not lose
the opportunity of conveying my enquiries after you, and most
thankfully acknowledging your letters, for one of which, I find,
I am obliged to a mistake.
“As there is nothing you either write or do that I am not
interested for, you must forgive my reminding you that so
faithful a minister of the glorious Gospel not only merits our
highest regards, but our many blessings also. I hope you will
comfort me by all the accounts you can gather of the flourishing
and spreading of the glad tidings. O! how do I lament the
weakness of my hands, the feebleness of my knees, and coolness
of my heart. I want it on fire always, not for self-delight,
but to spread the Gospel from pole to pole. Pray for me, my
very excellent friend, and cause others to do so. I dread slack
hands in the vineyard: we must be all up and doing; the Lord is
at hand, and let us not lose the things we have wrought, but
labour and exhort each other to diligence and faithfulness. O!
my friend, we shall reap plentifully if we faint not: it is
thinking of your unwearied labours that inspires even so dead a
heart as mine at this moment with great earnestness; and I want
words to tell you what shall be your reward: all I can say is,
it is not less than Infinite Bounty which is to pay you.”
“March 15th, 1747.
“My most excellent Friend--I have so sincere a regard for
you, that I own it would flatter me to have you think it long
since you heard from me. Company, some business, and my weak
body, make my writing often to be attended with difficulty.
I wished much to have been earlier in my acknowledgments of
your last than usual, as it gave not only all that spirit of
Christian friendship that I now am honoured by from you, but
the consolation of assuring me you have hopes of finding out
a youth who may be thought worthy, from pious disposition and
education, for the ministry. What contribution will be wanting
from me towards this purpose, I beg you will let me know,
and my excellent friend may depend upon my utmost gratitude
for this high honour vouchsafed me: I feel my mite is cast
into the treasury of God; and O! inexpressible consolation!
that he in his love is sending these calls to poor, vile, and
unworthy me. My heart wants nothing so much as to dispense
_all_--_all_ for the glory of Him whom my soul loveth.
“I have ventured to send you a letter written by a young lady
upon the death of her sister, but with perfect confidence that
you will communicate it to _no one but_ Mrs. Doddridge,
and that you will be so good as to return it. A most wonderful
conversion, and it has had the same effect upon both the sisters
left behind! I knew it would make your gracious heart glad, as
many incidents lately happening would do, could I enumerate all.
O! many prophets and religious men have desired to see those
days, and have not seen them: great, great is the power of the
Lord, and for ever glorified be his name. Some important time
is coming: O might I hope it is that time when all things shall
be swallowed up by the enlightening and comforting displays of
our glorious Redeemer’s kingdom; when love shall be the burning
language of the heart, and every soul be longing for the moment
of his appearing. My hopes are not only full of immortality,
but of this. Your works are blessed, and God is making you a
polished shaft in his quiver. I want everybody to pray with you,
and for you, that you may wax stronger and stronger. I have
had a letter from Lord Bolingbroke, who thus says--‘I desire
my compliments and thanks to Dr. Doddridge, and hope I shall
continue to deserve his good opinion.’
“I am strongly baited to have some advice about my health:
it seems good enough for me, but not for my children, and my
sister, who is now with me, and who is very unhappy to see me so
weak and ill. In submission, I have consented to apply to one of
the faculty, and I have desired that it may be Dr. Stonhouse, of
your town, who is the only person to be sent for to me, whenever
I should be so ill as to be thought in any immediate danger:
and, till then, his advice taken upon my case.
“I have this day received a fresh mark of your unwearied
pains and thoughts about me. Alas! could you know those sighs
and tears I am continually offering through the weakness and
unprofitableness of my life, they would speak cruel and bitter
answers to the tender care of all my dear friends. I often look
to that bed which promises me a refuge from an evil world, and
from a yet more evil heart; but how does it bound, as the roe
or hind over the mountains, when that all-transporting view
presents itself--presents, O glorious! an eternity of joy,
to follow this glad release from time; everlasting triumphs
sounding throughout the angelic thrones to welcome my arrival.
Such love and pity dwell in heaven, and only there, for misery
and poverty like mine. What liberty to delight in that which is
most excellent! How enlarged those faculties which can take in
celestial purity, and, by sweet attraction, engage and eternally
maintain a union with it! Thus do I look on death; he is called
a monster, a king of terrors, but as a Gabriel’s salutation
shall my soul meet him: he can bring no other message to the
redeemed in Christ, but, ‘Hail, thou who art highly favoured
of the Lord!’ and though it is true so great a stranger may
surprise for a little, yet his smiles of victory will clear even
the grievance of flesh and blood, and make the grave appear a
consecrated dormitory for sweet repose. O glorious Emmanuel!
how, how do I long for that immortal voice to praise thee with;
and till then, that mortal one which may sound through earth thy
love to man!
“The post will not let me say more. I am happy in writing to
you, as I find so perfect a liberty in my mind as causes me
to rejoice. My kindest services to Mrs. Doddridge and your
daughters; thank them a thousand times for their thoughts about
me; and live assured of the most unfeigned esteem and highest
regard of your most unworthy friend, who hopes to continue to
all eternity, ever, ever your friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
The following allusion to the malignity of popular persecution must be
deeply interesting:--
“May 21, 1747.
“My excellent Friend--I delivered your letter to our friend, who
was here, and read it with pleasure and joy, as all that comes
from you occasions to those who love our Lord in sincerity. We
have prayed earnestly together for you, and recommended, just
before we parted, the young man.
“My heart is the same; I drag about a painful companion, and yet
I am quite satisfied to do so: how long it may last I know not.
Our affronts and persecutions here, for the world’s sake, are
hardly to be described.
But, alas, these are among those honours that should not be
mentioned by me: that so unworthy a mortal should thus be
favoured by so loving a Father ought to make me bow down
with confusion of face that he should regard me. Many secret
and shameful enemies of the Gospel, by His will, appear; the
particulars would amuse you, and, blessed be God, they rejoice
me, as good must follow from it. They called out in the open
streets for me, saying, if they had me, they would tear me
to pieces, &c.; but, alas! this does but prove that it is
the Lord that offends them, and so must He continue to the
unregenerate heart. In haste I must assure you how sincerely and
affectionately I remain your obliged friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
Other letters of interest we are compelled to omit; one, written on the
eve of her sister’s[37] departure for Shropshire, when Lady Bentley
was also to leave her, is conceived in a spirit of extreme humility,
gratitude, and affection, and of intense longing for relief from the
burden of the flesh.
Lady Huntingdon’s health, although she had a partial recovery, soon
began to decline, and her disorder to increase, to an alarming degree.
Dr. Stonhouse was sent for; but her complaint increasing rather than
abating, he wisely recommended her to go, as soon as convenient, to
Bath, as the most likely means to restore her. On her way thither, she
spent some days with her sister, Lady Kilmorey, in Shropshire. A letter
to Dr. Doddridge, written about this time, sufficiently manifests
the blessed state of her mind during the season of affliction, and
expresses the humility and faith of this illustrious woman:--
“Bath, Nov. 1747.
“I hope you will never care about the ceremony of time in your
letters to me, but just when attended with the greatest ease to
yourself, as we both agree in this sentiment, that the one thing
worth living for must be, the proclaiming the love of God to
man in Jesus Christ; so all calls for that end will secure my
approbation for your silence.
“I am nothing--Christ is all; I disclaim, as well as disdain,
any righteousness but his. I not only rejoice that there is no
wisdom for his people but that from above, but reject every
pretension to any but what comes from himself. I want no
holiness he does not give me, and I could not accept a heaven he
did not prepare me for: I can wish for no liberty but what he
likes for me, and I am satisfied with every misery he does not
redeem me from; that in all things I may feel that without him
I can do nothing. To sit at his feet and hearken to his sayings
is an honour worthy of Gabriel, who is always in the presence
of God; to behold the glory of such a Saviour even the seraphs
might veil their faces--such love and honour, I say, as this,
ought to make us breathe his praises from pole to pole. Many
are our enemies, and of these, not only our own sins, but the
spirit of that world in which dwells nothing but wretchedness;
but while it is through his love that we are to conquer, let
the patience of his saints be seen in us; let our prayers and
labours be useful (instrumentally) in obtaining crowns of pure
gold to be placed on the heads of our most cruel foes; that
the infinite evil of the worst may serve only to raise our
hearts to heaven for their infinite good. Did we enough take
root downward, we should bear more of this fruit upwards: ’tis
humility must make us ascend by the fiery chariot: that Divine
Being (whom my soul most delights in) shows me my lesson in
these few words, ‘Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly.’
“My family consists of two sons and as many daughters; for all
of them I have nothing to do but to praise God. The children
of so many prayers and tears, I doubt not, shall one day be
blest, your prayers for us all helping. The hint you gave me is
great matter of joy to me; my soul longeth for grace. To preach
Christ and his blessing upon repentance over the earth is the
commission--the event must be with him; all else is from man,
and of man: He must gather and unite the faithful, since it is
He alone who sits in heaven that may instruct the heart for His
purposes. At present the more the little leaven is hid in all,
the more of the whole will be leavened. Parties and divisions
have ever been the stumbling-blocks of the weak; if we were
altogether with the Lord, as watchmen for him, calling day and
night in order only to prepare the materials, we need not be
fearful, for the city would be established and prevail upon the
earth; but this having always been attempted by man’s power,
and so little in grace, it hath come to nought. May the Lord
give us _all_ such love, to live and to die to _Him_
and for _Him_ alone. I am, with most kind respects to Mrs.
Doddridge, your most sincere, but weak and unworthy friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.
“P.S. As I write from my heart, and not from my head, you may
more easily forgive incorrectness when you meet with it.”
The learning, piety, candour, and politeness of Dr. Doddridge
recommended him to the esteem and friendship of Lady Huntingdon; and
her correspondence with him, from which the subjoined extracts are
made, was continued up to the time of his death.
A letter from Dr. Watts to Dr. Doddridge, dated Nov. 1747, contains the
following words:--
“Yesterday my Lady Hertford[38] gave me the honour of a letter,
wherein she expresses a very high esteem and respect for you, as
the author of the ‘Rise and Progress,’ and for your account of
‘Colonel Gardiner’s Life,’ which pleased her very much, and she
tells me that I should let you know it.”
But it was reserved for Lady Huntingdon to be the means of introducing
the Doctor to the correspondence of the Duchess. In one of her
Ladyship’s letters she writes thus concerning this celebrated woman:--
“Reverend Sir--Since I wrote my last to you, I have received
a letter from my beloved Duchess of Somerset, who thus writes
concerning you--‘I should be very glad to see any sermons of
Dr. Doddridge, and should look upon a letter from him as an
honour, provided he will write to me as a person who wants both
instruction and reproof, but not as one who has attained any
share of that Christian piety and self-denial without which all
pretensions to the name of a disciple are vain.’
“I could not satisfy myself till I had sent you the above, as
it will not only encourage you to write to her, but show you
how amiable and humble a disposition you have to address. I
pray to God to improve this friendship to you both, and then I
shall think myself of some service in life. You were so good as
to design for us a parcel, which I shall be glad to receive, as
there is nothing you either write or do but I am interested in.
You must forgive my reminding you, that so faithful a minister
of the Gospel not only merits our highest regards, but our many
blessings also.
“My kindest respects to Mrs. Doddridge, and the young gentleman
who was with you here, and to Mr. Jones, whom I shall be
extremely glad to see whenever he has an opportunity of coming
my way. Live assured of the most sincere regard of a very
unworthy, but truly faithful and obliged friend,
“S. HUNTINGDON.”
Lady Huntingdon had diligently studied the Gospel, and had just ideas
of the extent and importance of Christian liberty. She had impartially
examined the controversy between the Dissenters and the Church of
England, and thought it her duty to adhere to the latter. But she
was desirous to countenance and encourage all those who appeared to
have the interest of religion much at heart, and to be zealous to
instruct and save souls, though they were of different persuasions from
herself. Her generous heart never confined truth and goodness to one
particular sect, nor in any other respect appeared bigoted to that,
or uncharitable to those who differed from her. She rejoiced when she
met with worthy ministers of moderate principle; thought herself happy
in the intimate friendship of some of them; and maintained a regular
correspondence with others. She always spoke of them in the most
respectful terms, frequently invited them to her house, and did them
all the service in her power, as she believed they acted agreeably to
the convictions of their own consciences. Dr. Doddridge was eminently a
man of candour and liberality. A rigid spirit, and a stiffness about
things non-essential, he very much disliked; he entertained a high
opinion of the piety and zeal of many of those clergymen of the Church
of England who were stigmatized as Methodists. He had seen the good
effects of their itinerant labours in his own neighbourhood--he had
heard of more, and on unquestionable authority; and this left him no
room to doubt that God had owned them. He was well aware that there was
some enthusiasm among them, and much among their followers; but he was
nevertheless fully convinced that they were eminently useful in rousing
the attention of the careless and indifferent to the great things of
eternity; in leading them to read and study the Scriptures, and attend
religious worship in places where they might be better instructed and
edified. Many friendly and faithful admonitions he gave them, and it
was no inconsiderable evidence of the humility and candour of some
of the great leaders of Methodism, particularly Mr. Whitefield and
Lady Huntingdon, with whom he was more congenial in sentiment, that
they desired him freely to tell them what he thought amiss in their
sentiments and conduct, and that they received his admonitions with
thankfulness. He endeavoured to show them their errors and to regulate
their zeal, which he thought a more friendly part, and more becoming a
Christian minister, than to revile and ridicule them. As they saw the
common people struck and captivated with their address and appearance
of zeal, he wished their wiser brethren would plainly and seriously
teach the Gospel, take due care of the souls committed to them, labour
more abundantly in their Master’s work, and thereby secure yet greater
popularity and acceptance by means which they themselves must think
just and laudable; for these he thought it their duty to use, whatever
their particular sentiments and stations were.
About the month of May, 1748, Lady Huntingdon and her daughters,
accompanied by Lady Anne and Lady Frances Hastings, left Bath, where
they had been staying some considerable time, on a tour through
Wales. It is a matter of regret that so little information can now be
obtained of her Ladyship’s journey into a part of the kingdom where she
was destined in after years to reap a harvest so abundant. From the
scanty materials, however, which remain, an imperfect and irregular
journal in the handwriting of Lady Frances Hastings, we are informed
that Lady Huntingdon was met at Bristol by Mr. Howel Harris, Mr.
Griffith Jones, Mr. Daniel Rowlands, and Mr. Howel Davies, all of whom
accompanied her into the principality. They appear to have travelled
slowly, taking short stages every day. For fifteen days successively
two of the ministers that accompanied her Ladyship preached in some
town or village through which they passed, by which means the seed
of divine truth was widely scattered over a large extent of country.
In Cardiganshire her Ladyship was visited by the Rev. Philip Pugh, a
Dissenting minister, eminent for his piety, diligence, and success.
On their arrival at Trevecca, in Brecknockshire, they were joined by
several of the awakened clergymen, particularly Mr. William Williams,
Mr. Thomas Lewis, Mr. Penry Baillie, Mr. John Powel, and Mr. Thomas
Jones; also by some of the exhorters, or lay-preachers, and some pious
and laborious Dissenting ministers, amongst whom Mr. John Watkins, Mr.
Lewis Jones, of Glamorganshire, and Mr. Lewis Rees, from North Wales,
were the most notable. Her Ladyship remained a few days at Trevecca,
which exactly twenty years after became her chief residence and scene
of action. Whilst there, they had preaching four or five times a day,
to immense crowds who had collected from all the adjacent country. “The
divine influence of the Spirit of God (says Lady Frances) was very
evidently afforded with his word, and many were added unto the Lord’s
people.” On one occasion, when Mr. Griffith Jones preached in a large
field from that passage in the fortieth chapter of the prophecies of
Isaiah, “What shall I cry?” there was an extraordinary manifestation of
the grace and power of God over the assembled multitude, so that many
were deeply convinced of their misery and guilt, and cried aloud in the
most awful manner. When the sermon was ended, Lady Huntingdon enquired
of many of those who had been so affected, the cause of their loud and
bitter cries. Most of them replied, “that they were so powerfully and
deeply convinced of their sinfulness and awful condition in the sight
of God, that they were afraid he never would have mercy on them.” The
people in general, through the whole assembly, seemed greatly bowed
down and humbled before the Lord, and many said, “they should never
forget the time when God was so gracious unto them.”
On another occasion, when Mr. Rowlands preached at a small town in
Carmarthenshire, God accompanied the word in a very powerful manner.
“It was remarkable at this season (observes Lady Frances) that as
sinners were generally under a most distressing sense of their guilt,
so the people of God were sensibly refreshed and comforted. Their souls
were magnifying the Lord, and rejoicing in God their Saviour, who hath
done such great things for them; while others in distressing agony
were crying out, ‘_Men and brethren what shall we do?_’”
Accompanied by Mr. Howel Harris and Mr. Howel Davies, Lady Huntingdon
left Wales, and arrived in London on the 15th June, a few weeks before
Mr. Whitefield’s return from America. Her Ladyship was both gratified
and refreshed by what she witnessed in the principality. “On a review
of all I have seen and heard, during the last few weeks (says the
Countess), I am constrained to exclaim, ‘Bless the Lord, O my soul, and
all that is within me bless his holy name.’ The sermons were in general
lively and awakening, containing the most solemn and awful truths--such
as the utter ruin of man by the fall, and his redemption and recovery
by the Lord Jesus Christ, the energetic declaration of which produced
great and visible effects in many. I enquired the meaning of the outcry
which sometimes spread through the congregation, and when informed
that it arose from a deep conviction of sin working powerfully on the
awakened conscience, I could not but acknowledge, ‘_This is the
Lord’s doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes_.’ Many, on these
solemn occasions, there is reason to believe, were brought out of
nature’s deepest darkness into the marvellous light of the all-glorious
Gospel of Christ. My earnest prayer to God for them is, that they may
continue in his grace and love: and, with full purpose of heart, cleave
unto the Lord, approve themselves the true and faithful disciples of a
crucified Saviour, and through manifold temptations, opposition, and
reproach, be enabled to press toward the mark for the high prize of the
calling of God in Christ Jesus.”
Not long after her Ladyship’s return to London, Dr. Doddridge paid a
visit to the metropolis. During his stay he was very frequently at Lady
Huntingdon’s house. In a letter to Mrs. Doddridge he says:--
“I can conclude with telling you that I am now come to the
conclusion of one of the most pleasant days I shall ever
spend without you. After an hour’s charming conversation with
Lady Huntingdon and Mrs. Edwin, I preached in her family, by
express desire, and met Colonel Gumley, who is really a second
Colonel Gardiner. Such a monument of the power and sovereignty
of divine grace as, truly, I have hardly met with since I was
acquainted with his story. After dinner, the ladies entertained
us with their voices and a harpsichord, with which I was highly
delighted: and I have stolen a hymn, which I steadfastly believe
to be written by good Lady Huntingdon, and which I shall not
fail to communicate to you.
* * * * *
“Lady Huntingdon is quite a mother to the poor; she visits them
and prays with them in their sicknesses; and they leave their
children to her for a legacy when they die, and she takes care
of them. I was really astonished at the traces of religion I
discovered in her and Mrs. Edwin,[39] and cannot but glorify
God for them. More cheerfulness I never saw intermingled with
devotion. Lady Frances Gardiner sets out on Tuesday next: I have
taken my leave of her.”