it, I should never have found; and I know, and | gence, but when my reason was restored to me, and have experience of it every day, that the mercy of God to the believer is more than sufficient to compensate for the loss of every other blessing. You will believe that my happiness is no dream, because I have told you the foundation on which it is built. What I have written would appear like enthusiasm to many, for we are apt to give that name to every warm affection of the mind in others, which we have not experienced ourselves; but to you, who have so much to be thankful for, and a temper in-wise, and as well qualified to do it, as in that which clined to gratitude, it will not appear so."

I had so much need of a religious friend to converse with, to whom I could open my mind upon the subject without reserve, I could hardly have found a better person for the purpose. My eagerness and anxiety to settle my opinions upon that long neglected point, made it necessary, that while my mind was yet weak, and my spirits uncertain, I should have some assistance. The doctor was as ready to administer relief to me in this article likewas more immediately his province. How many physicians would have thought this an irregular appetite, and a symptom of remaining madness! But if it were so, my friend was as mad as myself, and it is well for me that he was so. My dear cousin, you know not half the deliverances I have received; my brother is the only one in the family who does. My recovery is indeed a signal one, and my future life must express my thankfulness, for by words I cannot do it."

mise of God, that bread should be given him, and water should be sure.

On being informed that his brother had made many unsuccessful attempts to procure him a suitable dwelling, he, one day, poured out his soul in prayer to God, beseeching him, that wherever he should be pleased, in his fatherly mercy, to place him, it might be in the society of those who feared his name, and loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity. This prayer, God was pleased graciously to answer. In the beginning of June, 1765, he received a letter from his brother to say, he had engaged such lodgings for him at Huntingdon, as he thought would suit him. Though this was farther from Cambridge, where his brother then resided, than he wished, yet, as he was now in perfect health, and as his circumstances required a less expensive way of life than his present, he resolved to take them, and arranged his affairs accordingly.

To the same lady, a day or two afterwards, he writes-"How naturally does affliction make us Christians! and how impossible is it, when all human help is vain, and the whole earth too poor and trifling to furnish us with one moment's peace, how impossible is it then to avoid looking at the gospel! It gives me some concern, though at the same time it increases my gratitude to reflect, that a convert made in Bedlam is more likely to be a stumbling-block to others than to advance their He now employed his brother to seek out for him faith. But if it have that effect upon any, it is an abode somewhere in the neighborhood of Camowing to their reasoning amiss, and drawing their bridge, as he had determined to leave London, the conclusion from false premises. He who can as- scene of his former misery; and that nothing might cribe an amendment of life and manners, and a re- induce him to return thither, he resigned the office formation of the heart itself, to madness, is guilty of commissioner of bankrupts, worth about 607, per of an absurdity, that in any other case would fasten annum, which he still held. By this means, he rethe imputation of madness upon himself; for, by so duced himself to an income barely sufficient for his doing, he ascribes a reasonable effect to an unrea-maintenance; but he relied upon the gracious prosonable cause, and a positive effect to a negative. But when Christianity only is to be sacrificed, he that stabs deepest is always the wisest man. You, my dear cousin, yourself, will be apt to think I carry the matter too far; and that in the present warmth of my heart, I make too ample a concession in saying that I am only now a convert. You think I always believed, and I thought so too; but you were deceived, and so was I. I called myself indeed a Christian, but he who knows my heart knows that I never did a right thing, nor abstained from a wrong one, because I was so; but if I did either, it was under the influence of some other motive. And it is such seeming Christians, such pretending believers, that do most mischief in the cause, and furnish the strongest arguments to support the infidelity of its enemies: unless profession and conduct go together, the man's life is a lie, and the validity of what he professes itself, is called in question. The difference between a Christian and an unbeliever, On the 17th of June, 1765, having spent more would be so striking, if the treacherous allies of the than eighteen months at St. Alban's, partly in the church would go over at once to the other side, that bondage of despair, and partly in the liberty of the I am satisfied religion would be no loser by the bar- gospel, he took leave of the place, at four in the gain. You say, you hope it is not necessary for sal- morning, and set out for Cambridge, taking with vation to undergo the same affliction that I have him the servant who had attended him while he undergone. No! my dear cousin, God deals with remained with Dr. Cotton, and who had maintained his children as a merciful father; he does not, as he an affectionate watchfulness over him during the himself tells, afflict us willingly. Doubtless there whole of his illness, waiting upon him, on all ocare many, who, having been placed by his good casions, with the greatest patience, and invariably providence out of the reach of evil, and the influ- treating him with the greatest kindness. The minence of bad example, have, from their very infancy, gled emotions of his mind on leaving the place been partakers of the grace of his Holy Spirit, in were painful and pleasing; he regarded it as the such a manner, as never to have allowed them-place of second nativity; he had here passed from selves in any grievous offence against him. May you love him more and more, day by day, as every day while you think of him you will find him more worthy of your love, and may you be finally accepted by him for his sake, whose intercession for all his faithful servants cannot but prevail."

In the same letter he thus expresses his gratitude to God for placing him under the care of Dr. Cotton:-"I reckon it one instance of the providence that has attended me through this whole event, that I was not delivered into the hands of some London physician, but was carried to Dr. Cotton. I was not only treated by him with the greatest tenderness while I was ill, and attended with the utmost dili

death unto life-had been favored with much leisure to study the word of God-had enjoyed much happiness in conversing upon its great truths with his esteemed physician; and he left it with considerable reluctance; offering up many prayers to God, that his richest blessings might rest upon its worthy manager, and upon all its inmates.

The state of his mind on this occasion he thus affectionately describes:-"I remembered the pollution which is in the world, and the sad share I had in it myself, and my heart ached at the thought of entering it again. The blessed God had endowed me with some concern for his glory, and I was fearful of hearing his name traduced by oaths and blasphe

mies, the common language of this highly-favored where he had prayed the day before, and found the but ungrateful country; but the promise of God, relief he had there received was but the earnest of 'Fear not, I am with thee,' was my comfort. Ia richer blessing. The Lord was pleased to visit passed the whole of my journey in fervent prayer to God, earnestly but silently entreating Him to be my guardian and counsellor in all my future journey through life, and to bring me in safety, when he had accomplished his purposes of grace and mercy towards me, to eternal glory."

CHAPTER IV.

Removal to Huntingdon. Sensations there. Engages in public worship for the first time after his recovery. Delight it afforded him. Commences a regular correspondence with some of his friends. Pleasure he experienced in writing ou religious subjects. Anxiety of his mind for the spiritual welfare of his former associates. Attributes their continuance in sin chiefly to infidelity. Folly of this. Beauty of the Scriptures. Absurdity of attributing events to second causes, instead of to the overruling providence of God. De pendence upon Divine direction the best support in affliction. Forms some new connections. Becomes acquainted with the Unwin family. Happiness he experienced in their

company.

AFTER Spending a few days with his brother at Cambridge, Cowper repaired to Huntingdon, and entered upon his new abode, on Saturday, the 22d of June, 1765; taking with him the servant he had brought from St. Alban's, to whom he had become strongly attached for the great kindness he had shown him in his affliction. His brother, who had accompanied him thither, had no sooner left him, than finding himself alone, surrounded by strangers, in a strange place, his spirits began to sink, and he felt like a traveller in the midst of an inhospitable desert; without a friend to comfort, or a guide to direct him. He walked forth, towards the close of the day, in this melancholy frame of mind, and having wandered about a mile from the town, he found his heart so powerfully drawn towards the Lord, that on gaining a secret and retired nook in the corner of a field, he kneeled down under a bank, and poured out his complaints unto God. It pleased his merciful Father to hear him; the load was removed from his mind, and he was enabled to trust in Him that careth for the stranger; to roll his burden upon Him, and to rest assured, that wherever God might cast his lot, he would still be his guardian and shield.

him with his gracious presence, he seemed to speak to him face to face, as a man speaketh to his friend; He made all His goodness pass before him, and constrained him to say with Jacob, not "how dreadful," but "how lovely is this place! This is the house of God, and the gate of heaven."

He remained four months in the lodgings procured for him by his brother, secluded from the bustling and active scenes of life, and receiving only an occasional visit from some of his neighbors. Though he had little intercourse with men, yet he enjoyed much fellowship with God in Christ Jesus. Living by faith, and thus tasting the joys of the unseen world, his solitude was sweet, his meditations were delightful, and he wanted no other enjoyments. He now regularly corresponded with all his intimate friends, and his letters furnish the clearest proofs of the happy, and indeed almost enviable, state of his mind, during this period. To Lady Hesketh, in a letter dated July 5, 1765, he thus discloses his feelings:-"I should have written to you from St. Alban's long ago, but was willing to perform quarantine, as well for my own sake, as because I thought my letters would be more satisfactory to you from any other quarter. You will perceive I allowed myself sufficient time for the purpose, for I date my recovery from the latter end of last July, having been ill seven, and well twelve months. About that time my brother came to see me; I was far from well when he arrived, yet, though he only remained one day, his company served to put to flight a thousand deliriums and delusions which I still labored under.

"As far as I am acquainted with my new residence, I like it extremely. Mr. Hodgson, the minister of the parish, made me a visit yesterday. He is very sensible, a good preacher, and conscientious in the discharge of his duty; he is well known to Dr. Newton, Bishop of Bristol, the author of the Treatise on the Prophecies, the most demonstrable proof of the truth of Christianity, in my mind, that was ever published."

In another letter, a few days afterwards, to the same lady, he thus writes:-" Mentioning Newton's Treatise on the Prophecies brings, to my mind an anecdote of Dr. Young, who you know died lately at Welwyn. Dr. Cotton, who was intimate with him, paid him a visit about a fortnight before he was seized with his last illness. The old man was then in perfect health; the antiquity of his person, the gravity of his utterance, and the earnestness in the doctor's eye, the appearance of a prophet. with which he discoursed about religion, gave him, They had been delivering their sentiments on Newthus:-'My friend, there are two considerations ton's Treatise, when Young closed the conference upon which my faith in Christ is built as upon a rock-first, the fall of man, the redemption of man, and the resurrection of man; these three cardinal articles of our holy religion are such as human ingenuity could never have invented, therefore they must be divine: the other is the fulfilment of prophecy, of which there is abundant demonstration. This proves that the Scripture must be the word of God, and if so, Christianity must be true.'""

The following day he went to church, for the first time after his recovery. Throughout the whole of the service, his emotions were so powerfully affecting, that it was with much difficulty he could restrain them, so much did he see of the beauty and glory of the Lord while thus worshipping Him in his temple. His heart was full of love to all the congregation, especially to such as seemed serious and attentive. Such was the goodness of God to him, that he gave him the oil of joy for mourning, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; and, though he joined not with the congregation in singing the praises of his God, being prevented by the intenseness of his feelings, yet his soul sung within him, and leaped for joy. The parable of the prodigal son was the portion of Scripture read in the gospel appointed for the day. He saw himself in that glass so clearly, and the loving kindness of his slighted and forgotten Lord, that the whole scene was realized by him, and acted over in his heart. And he thus describes his feelCowper now lived in the full enjoyment of reliings on hearing it:-"When the gospel for the day was read, it seemed more than I could well support. gion. Its truths supported his mind, and furnished Oh, what a word is the word of God, when the him with an ample field for meditation; its proSpirit quickens us to receive it, and gives the hear-mises consoled him, freed him from every distressing ear, and the understanding heart! The har- ing sensation, and filled him with joy unspeakable mony of heaven is in it, and discovers clearly and and full of glory; its duties regulated all his conduct, and his chief anxiety was to live entirely to satisfactorily its author." Immediately after church he repaired to the place! the glory of God. The following beautiful lines of

the poet are strikingly descriptive of his feelings at to the truth of Christianity itself, yet he never could this period:

No one ever watched more carefully the provi- | company as I choose, a deal of comfortable leisure, dence of God than Cowper. His views of it were and enjoy better health, I think, than for many years just and scriptural, as is abundantly evident by the past. What is there wanting to make me happy? above remarks, and, if possible, more clearly evinc-Nothing, if I can but be as thankful as I ought; and I ed by the following extracts from the same excel- trust that He, who has bestowed so many blessings lent letter:-"My dear cousin, a firm persuasion of on me, will give me gratitude to crown them all. I the superintendence of Providence over all our con- thank God for all the pleasing circumstances here, cerns, is absolutely necessary to our happiness.- for my health of body, and perfect serenity of mind. Without it we cannot be said to believe in the Scrip- To recollect the past, and compare it with the preture, or practise any thing like resignation to his sent, is all that I need to fill me with gratitude; and will. If I am convinced that no affliction can be- to be grateful is to be happy. I am far from thinkfall me without the permission of God, I am con- ing myself sufficiently grateful, or from indulging vinced likewise that he sees, and knows, that I am the hope that I shall ever be so in the present life. afflicted; believing this, I must, in the same degree, The warmest heart, perhaps, only feels by fits, and believe that if I pray to him for deliverance he hears is often as insensible as the coldest. This, at least, me; I must needs know likewise, with equal assu-is frequently the case with mine, and much oftener rance, that if he hears, he will deliver me: I may than it should be." Among the families with whom Cowper was on rest well assured that he has none but the most benevolent intention in declining it. He made us, not terms of intimacy, there were none so entirely conbecause we could add to his happiness, which was genial to his taste as that of the Rev. Mr. Unwin. always perfect, but that we might be happy our-This worthy divine, who was now far advanced in selves; and will he not in all his dispensations towards us, even in the minutest, consult that end for which he made us? To suppose the contrary, is to affront every one of his attributes, and to renounce utterly our dependence upon him. In this view it will appear plainly, that the line of duty is not stretched too tight, when we are told that we ought to accept every thing at his hands as a blessing, and to be thankful even when we smart under the rod of iron with which he sometimes rules us. Without this persuasion, every blessing, however we may think ourselves happy in the possession of it, loses its greatest recommendation, and every affliction is intolerable. Death itself must be welcome to him who has this faith; and he who has it not must aim at it, if he is not a madman." The excellence of these extracts from Cowper's correspondence will, it is hoped, be admitted by every reader as a sufficient apology for the interruption they may occasion to our narrative. They might be greatly enlarged; but it is not intended to admit any, except such as will, in some degree at least, serve to describe his character.

Cowper became acquainted with this interesting family, which was afterwards, almost to the close The Unwins freof his life, a source of comfort to him, in the following rather singular manner. quently noticed Mr. C. and remarked the degree of piety and intelligence he seemed to possess; this induced them to wish for farther acquaintance with the interesting stranger: his manners, however, were so reserved, that an introduction to him seemed wholly out of their reach. After waiting some time, with no apparent prospect of success, their eldest son, Mr. W. Unwin, though dissuaded from it by his mother, lest it should be thought too intrusive, ventured to speak to Mr. Cowper one day, when they were coming out of church, after morning It was not to be expected that a person like Cow-prayers, and to engage himself to take tea with Mr. per could remain long unnoticed, how reserved soever was his conduct. Accordingly, he had been at Huntingdon only a short time before he was visited by several persons, and introduced into several families, all eminently distinguished for their respectability, and general consistency of conduct. This soon endeared him to the place, and he thus communicated his sentiments respecting it to his correspondents:-"The longer I live here the better I like the place, and the people who belong to it. I am upon very good terms with five families, all of whom receive me with the utmost cordiality. You may recollect that I had but very uncomfortable expectations of the accommodations I should meet with in Huntingdon. How much better is it to take our lot, where it shall please Providence to cast it, without anxiety! Had I chosen for myself, it is impossible I could have fixed upon a place so agreeable to me in all respects. I so much dreaded the thought of having a new acquaintance to make with no other recommendation than that of being a perfect stranger, that I heartily wished no creature here might take the least notice of me. Instead of which, in about two months after my arrival, I became known to all the visitable people here, and do verily think it the most agreeable neighborhood I ever saw. My brother and I meet every week by an alternate reciprocation of intercourse, as Sam Johnson would express it. As to my own personal condition, I am much happier than the day is long; and sunshine and candle-light alike, see me perfectly contented. I get books in abundance, as much

"To my inexpressible joy, I found him one, whose notions of religion were spiritual and lively; one, whom the Lord had been training up from his infancy for the temple. We opened our hearts to each other at the first interview; and when we parted, I immediately retired to my chamber, and prayed the Lord, who had been the author, to be the guardian of our friendship, and to grant to it fervency and perpetuity, even unto death; and I doubt not that my gracious Father heard this prayer." A friendship thus formed was not likely to be soon interrupted; accordingly it continued with unabated affection through life, and became to both parties a source of much real enjoyment. Well would it be for Christians, were they, in making choice of their friends, to follow the example of Cowper! Entering upon it by earnest prayer to God for his blessing, they might then hope to derive all those invaluable benefits from it, which it is adapted and designed to convey.

The following Sabbath Cowper dined with the Unwins, and was treated with so much cordiality and real affection, that he ever after felt the warmest attachment to this interesting family. In his letters on the subject he thus writes: "The last acquaintance I have made here is of the race of the Unwins, consisting of father and mother, son and daughter; they are the most agreeable people ima ginable; quite sociable, and as free from the cere

monious civility of country gentlefolks as I ever met with. They treat me more like a near relation than a stranger, and their house is always open to me. The old gentleman carries me to Cambridge in his chaise; he is a man of learning and good sense, and as simple as parson Adams. His wife has a very uncommon understanding, has read much to excellent purpose, and is more polite than a dutchess; she treats me with an affection so truly Christian, that I could almost fancy my own mother restored to life again, to compensate me for all my lost friends and broken connections. She has a son, in all respects, worthy of such a mother, the most amiable young man I ever knew; he is not yet arrived at that time of life when suspicion recommends itself to us in the form of wisdom, and sets every thing but our own dear selves at an immeasurable distance from our esteem and confidence. Consequently he is known almost as soon as seen, and having nothing in his heart that makes it necessary for him to keep it barred and bolted, opens it to the perusal even of a stranger. His natural and acquired endowments are very considerable, and as to his virtues, I need only say that he is a Christian. Miss Unwin resembles her mother in her great piety, who is one of the most remarkable instances of it I ever knew. They are altogether the most cheerful and engaging family it is possible to conceive. They see but little company, which suits me exactly; go when I will, I find a house full of peace and cordiality in all its parts, and am sure to hear no scandal, but such discourse instead of it as we are all the better for. Now I know them, I wonder that I liked Huntingdon so well before, and am apt to think I should find every place disagreeable that had not an Unwin belonging to it."

CHAPTER V.

Cowper becomes an inmate of Mr. Unwin's family. Is much delight

ed with their society. Describes the manner in which they spent

their time. His opinion respecting the knowledge which Christians will have of each other in Heaven. What will engage their thoughts there. Just views of Christian friendship. Strength of his religious affections. Humbling views of himself. Melancholy Death of Mr. Unwin. Cowper's reflections upon it. Mr. Newton's unexpected but providential visit to Mrs. Unwin. Cowper's determination to remain with the family. Their removal from Huntingdon to Olney.

The manner in which he spent his time while associated with this exemplary family, and the high degree of enjoyment he there experienced, will be seen by the following extracts from his correspondence with his two amiable cousins, Lady Hesketh and Mrs. Cowper. To the former he thus writes: "My dear Cousin-The frequency of your letters to me, while I lived alone, was occasioned, I am sure, by your regard for my welfare, and was an act of particular charity. I bless God, however, that I was happy, even then; solitude has nothing gloomy in it, if the soul points upwards. St. Paul tells his Hebrew converts, Ye are come,' (already come) to Mount Sion, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly of the first born, which are written in heaven, and to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant.' When this is the case, as surely as it was with them, or the Spirit of truth would never have spoken it, there is an end to the melancholy and dulness of life at once. You will not suspect me, my dear cousin, of a design to understand this passage literally; but this, however, it certainly means, that a lively faith is able to anticipate, in some measure, the joys of that heavenly society which the soul shall actually possess hereafter.

"Since I have changed my situation, I have found still greater cause of thanksgiving to the Father of all mercies. The family with whom I live are Christians, and it has pleased the Almighty to bring me to the knowledge of them, that I may want no means of improvement in that temper and conduct which he requires of all his servants. My dear cousin! one half of the Christian world would call this madness, fanaticism, and folly; but are not these things warranted by the word of God. If we have no communion with God here, surely we can expect none hereafter. A faith that does not place our conversation in heaven; that does not warm

the heart and purify it too; that does not in short, govern our thoughts, words and deeds, is not Christian faith, nor can we procure by it any spiritual blessing, here or hereafter. Let us therefore see that we do not deceive ourselves in a matter of such infinite moment. The world will be ever telling us that we are good enough, and the world will vilify us behind our backs: but it is not the world which tries the heart-that is the prerogative of God alone. My dear cousin! I have often prayed for you behind your back, and now I pray for you to your face. There are many who would not forgive me this wrong, but I have known you so long, and so well, that I am not afraid of telling you how sincerely Ï wish for your growth in every Christian grace, in every thing that may promote and secure your everlasting welfare."

TOWARDS the end of October, 1765, Cowper began to fear that his solitary and lonely situation would not be agreeable to him during the winter; and finding his present method of living, though he was strictly economical, rather too expensive for his limited income, he judged it expedient to look out for a family, with which he might become an inmate, where he might enjoy the advantage of social To his cousin, Mrs. Cowper, he thus writes:and familiar intercourse, and be subject to a less "I am obliged to you for the interest you take in expensive establishment. It providentially occur-my welfare, and for your inquiring so particularly red to him, that he might probably be admitted, on after the manner in which my time passes here. As such terms, into Mr. Unwin's family. He knew to amusements-I mean what the world calls such that a young gentleman, who had lived with them-we have none; the place, indeed, swarms with as a pupil, had just left them for Cambridge, and it them, and cards and dancing are the professed busiappeared not improbable, that he might be allowed ness of almost all the gentle inhabitants of Huntingto succeed him, not as a pupil, but as an inmate. don. We refuse to take part in them, or to be acThis subject occasioned him a tumult of anxious so- cessories to this way of murdering our time, and by licitude, and for some days he could not possibly di- so doing have acquired the name of Methodists. vert his attention from it. He at length made it the Having told you how we do not spend our time, I subject of earnest prayer to his Heavenly Father, will next say how we do. We breakfast commonly that he would be pleased to bring this affair to such between eight and nine; till eleven, we read either an issue, as would be most calculated to promote the Scripture or the sermons of some faithful preachHis own glory; and he had the satisfaction, in a er; at eleven, we attend divine service, which is short time, to receive a gracious answer to his peti-performed here every day; and from twelve to three, tions. A few days afterwards he mentioned the subject to Mrs. Unwin, a satisfactory arrangement was very speedily made with the family, and he entered upon his new abode the eleventh of November, 1765.

we separate and amuse ourselves as we please. During that interval, I read in my own apartment, or walk, or ride, or work in the garden. We seldom sit an hour after dinner, but, if the weather permits, adjourn into the garden, where, with Mrs. U. and her