Now, heaven expands before him, and each voice If communing with earthly friends be sweet, No: though entranced before the Throne he fall Who, who can dwell upon this theme divine, Then sing Thy praises through eternity! Ελάχιτος. REVIEW OF NEW PUBLICATIONS. TAYLOR'S LIFE OF COWPER. (Concluded from page 239.) SINCE the publication of our last Number we happened to turn to Mr. Montgomery's edition of the Olney Hymns (No. 46 of the Glasgow Select Christian Authors), prefixed to which we find, not only Mr. Newton's own Introduction, but a preliminary notice by the editor both of Newton and Cowper, which proves that he could not have intended, as indeed we never suspected, any disrespect to either by the omission of Newton's Preface to Cowper's Poems in the Glasgow series. Mr. Montgomery expresses his high admiration for Newton, and vindicates for him what is far better than mere poetical talent in his Olney Hymns. But we notice his preface chiefly as containing a most beautiful and interesting illustration of the unseen workings of Divine Providence, which brought together two such remarkable men as Cowper and Newton in an obscure country village, and rendered their friendship illustrious by the publication of Cowper's invaluable hymns and also his poems, which, to say nothing of higher matters, formed an epoch in the literary annals of the nation, and gave rise to a wholly new school of poetry. If any of our readers have not perused Mr. Montgomery's Introductory Essay to the Olney Hymns, they ought to thank us for announcing to them a pleasure in reserve. He begins with depicting a miserable, degraded, depraved, and apparently irretrievable outcast on the coast of Africa; from which wretched picture he turns to give us a second affecting portrait, of a young man of high family connexions polished education, and exquisite taste and genius, an intended suicide, and an apparently hopeless victim in a lunatic asylum. He then brings these two men together in an obscure village in Buckinghamshire: the grace of God has touched their hearts; it has brought them to themselves: they are united in the close bonds of a religious friendship: and from their brotherly attachment flow those publications which were destined to delight and edify future ages. The whole picture is admirably conceived and strikingly executed. While alluding to Mr. Montgomery, we may as well recur to another point mentioned in our last Number,-the difference between Mrs. Unwin and Lady Austen. Mr. Montgomery seems to have treated playfully of the matter, from not really knowing, amidst the dark hints and mysterious air of the biographers, what to make of it. Mr. Taylor, we concluded, was mysterious, from writing, as his preface seemed to intimate, under the eye of Dr. Johnson, who, as is well known, has always carried to an extreme his amiable reserve about communicating to the public the more delicate or painful parts of Cowper's life. But our further acquaintance with Mr. Taylor's volume absolves him from this charge of intended mystery; for though he has expressed his obligations to Dr. Johnson, and has stated that he softened down some things which might distress surviving friends (alluding chiefly, we suppose, to Cowper's painful details of his intended suicide, which we intimated ought never to have been published); and though this led us to speak of him as writing" under censorship," whence we concluded he knew more than he expressed; yet, upon looking at his book more fully for our present Number, we find it so completely a compilation from former lives of Cowper and his published letters, without any gleaning that we perceive of new facts-even the comments and criticisms being chiefly borrowed, or rather copied*—that we are convinced Mr. Taylor knew no more about the causes of "the abstraction of Lady Austen from Olney" than what the published biographies told him; that he had no access to any original letters on the subject; and that, therefore, he spoke vaguely only because he knew not what to say definitely. We might now drop the subject; but, lest we should seem to be imitating the mysterious air which we have ourselves disapproved, we will state what we have heard as the true version of the story; which is, That Cowper, from the great mutual esteem and attachment which subsisted between Mrs. Unwin and himself, had long wished and intended to marry her; their years not being preposterously apart, though numbered on the wrong side;that both parties considered this step proper, were it only in order to prevent any possible misinterpretation of the conduct of that generous and saintly woman, who devoted herself, to the unspeakable sacrifice of her health and peace to tend him, and from whose fostering care he hoped We speak generally, and so far as we can trace the passages, Mr. Taylor not having given any references. We do not indeed ask for a burdened margin, but a general list of authorities ought to have been given. There should also, even in compilations, be a distinct line drawn between facts and comments. These circumstances lead us to repeat our remark, that the work is not a final life of Cowper; a biographer yet being wanting who has Hayley's or Dr. Johnson's information, to supply any lost links, without affecting those reserves which are rightly exercised in regard to recently departed persons, but do not apply after a long interval, and when a man's life has become public property. Still Mr. Taylor's book is a very interesting compilation; and we gladly avail ourselves of it, and recommend it. never to separate, while she as steadily determined never to abandon her interesting sufferer;-that the day for their union was actually fixed, when a recurrence of his constitutional melancholy retarded the design ;—that, when she had nursed him through this renewed illness with extraordinary self-devotion and elevated strength of character, nothing was wanting but his perfect restoration to health to induce him to fulfil his pledge, he often declaring, that, if ever he entered a church again, it should be for that purpose; that Lady Austen, not knowing of this secret engagement, formed an attachment which gave Mrs. Unwin much uneasiness; and that Cowper, perceiving the awkward turn which matters were taking, frankly wrote to Lady Austen, stating how he was circumstanced, and the consequent necessity of his renouncing her society, much as he valued it, as a sacrifice due both to his own feelings and to his gratitude to Mrs. Unwin. If Dr. Johnson, or any other surviving friend of Cowper, will inform us that the above statement is incorrect, we will give the right version in its stead; but if it be authentic, then why all the winks and nods and discrepant half-statements of which we complain in several publications; as if there were something very terrible which the writers durst not divulge, whereas all the air of mystery was only to conceal their own ignorance. We now arrive at the second and happiest period of Cowper's life, including his short stay at Huntingdon and the earlier part of his residence at Olney. He had emerged from the juvenile tyranny which afflicted his childhood, the idle dissipations and irreligious habits which disgraced his youth, and the insane horrors which agitated his early manhood, and which, after leading him to seek death in almost every way in which it could be found, left him in a lunatic asylum, the wreck of all his once magnificent hopes and aspirings. Religion, and that alone, had calmed his bewildered mind; and he now began indeed "to taste that the Lord is gracious." It was a short period-not ten years—but it was his noon-tide of life it comprised the season of his early intercourse with the Unwins and with Mr. Newton, and it is an unanswerable reply to those who have attributed his malady to religion. On the contrary, religion was his balm and his solace; and much did he delight to converse and to write upon its blessed truths, and to live in its hallowed enjoyments. His letters while he resided with the Unwins at Huntingdon, and after he removed with Mrs. Unwin, when she became a widow, to Olney, are beautiful exhibitions of the loveliness of true religion; and not the less so for being "sicklied o'er with the pale cast" of those pensive feelings which, amidst all his playfulness, characterised his compositions. There was also a fulness and correctuess of doctrinal statement in his remarks upon religion, and this before he became acquainted with Mr. Newton, which we could scarcely have hoped for. We throw together a few extracts from his letters to his pious and amiable cousin, Mrs. Cowper, during his residence at Huntingdon, which even those who have read often may read again with pleasure. "The common and ordinary occurrences of life, no doubt, and even the ties of kindred and of all temporal interests, will be entirely discarded from that_happy_society (heaven), and possibly even the remembrance of them done away: but it does not therefore follow that our spiritual concerns, even in this life, will be forgotten, neither do I think that they can ever appear trifling to us, in any the most distant period of eternity. God will then be all in all; our whole nature, the soul, and all its faculties, will be employed in praising and adoring him; and if so, will it not furnish us with a theme of thanksgiving, to recollect The rock whence we were hewn, and the hole of the pit whence we were digged?'-to recollect the time when our faith, which, under the tuition and nurture of the Holy Spirit, has produced such a plentiful harvest of immortal bliss, was as a grain of mustard-seed, small in itself, promising but little fruit, and producing less ?—to recollect the various attempts that were made upon it by the world, the flesh, and the devil, and its various triumphs over all, by the assistance of God, through our Lord Jesus Christ? At present, whatever our convictions may be of the sinfulness and corruption of our nature, we can make but a very imperfect estimate either of our weakness or our guilt. Then, no doubt, we shall understand the full value of the wonderful salvation wrought out for us by our exalted Redeemer; and it seems reasonable to suppose, that, in order to form a just idea of our redemption, we shall be able to form a just one of the danger we have escaped; when we know how weak and frail we were, we shall be more able to render due praise and honour to his strength who fought for us; when we know completely the hatefulness of sin in the sight of God, and how deeply we were tainted by it, we shall know how to value the blood by which we were cleansed as we ought." pp. 61, 62. For my own part, this life is such a momentary thing, and all its interests have so shrunk in my estimation, since, by the grace of our Lord Jesus, I became attentive to the things of another; that, like a worm in the bud of all my friendships and affections, this very thought would eat out the heart of them all, had I a thousand; and were their date to terminate in this life, I think I should have no inclination to cultivate, and improve, such a fugitive business. Yet friendship is necessary to our happiness here, and, built upon Christian principles, upon which only it can stand, is a thing even of religious sanction-for what is that love which the Holy Spirit, speaking by St. John, so much inculcates, but friendship? The only love which deserves the name, is a love which can enable the Christian to toil, and watch, and deny himself, and risk even exposure to death, for his brother. Worldly friendships are a poor weed compared with this; and even this union of the spirit in the bond of peace, would suffer, in my mind at least, could I think it were only coeval with our earthly mansions. It may possibly argue great weakness in me, in this instance, to stand so much in need of future hopes to support me in the discharge of present duty, but so it is. I am far, I know, very far, from being perfect in Christian love, or any other divine attainment, and am, therefore, unwilling to forego whatever may help me on my progress.' pp. 63, 64. “You are so kind as to inquire after my health, for which reason I must tell you what otherwise would not be worth mentioning, that I have lately been just enough indisposed to convince me, that not only human life in general, but mine in particular, hangs by a slender thread. I am stout enough in appearance, yet a little illness demolishes me. I have had a serious shake, and the building is not so firm as it was. But I bless God for it, with all my heart. If the inner man be but strengthened day by day, as I hope, under the renewing influences of the Holy Spirit, it will be, no matter how soon the outward is dissolved. He who has, in a manner, raised me from the dead in a literal sense, has given me the grace, I trust, to be ready, at the shortest notice, to surrender up to him that life, which I have twice received from him. Whether I live or die, I desire it may be to his glory, and then it must be to my happiness. I thank God, that I have those amongst my kindred to whom I can write, without reserve, my sentiments on this subject. A letter upon any other subject, is more insipid to me than ever my task was, when a school-boy. I say not this in vain glory, God forbid! but to shew what the Almighty, whose name I am unworthy to mention, has done for me, the chief of sinners. Once he was a terror to me; and his service, oh, what a weariness it was! Now I can say, I love him, and his Holy Name, and am never so happy as when I speak of his mercies to me." pp. 64, 65. "The book you mention lies now upon my table; Marshall is an old acquaintance of mine; I have both read him, and heard him read, with pleasure and edification. The doctrines he maintains are, under the influence of the Spirit of Christ, the very life of my soul, and the soul of all my happiness. That Jesus is a present Saviour from the guilt of sin, by his most precious blood, and from the power of it by his Spirit; that, corrupt and wretched in ourselves, in Him, and in Him only, we are complete; that being united to Jesus by a lively faith, we have a solid and eternal interest, in his obedience and sufferings, to justify us before the face of our Heavenly Father; and that all this inestimable treasure, the earnest of which is in grace, and its consummation in glory, is given, freely given to us by God; in short, that he hath freely opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers; are truths which cannot be disproved, though they have been disputed. These are the truths, which, by the grace of God, shall ever be dearer to me than life itself; shall ever be placed next my heart, as the throne whereon the Saviour himself shall sit, to sway all its motions, and reduce that world of iniquity and rebellion to a state of filial and affectionate obedience to the will of the Most Holy." pp. 64, 65. But the truth of religion and the strength of Divine support are seen rather in actions than words; and they were remarkably displayed in the manner in which this anxious, sensitive man sustained the loss of his beloved brother, who had been his dearest friend and adviser in the hour of his affliction, and to whom he was so tenderly attached that it might have been feared the sudden stroke would have wholly overpowered his mind. His brother was a man of learning and of amiable deportment, and was much esteemed in the university of Cambridge, where he resided as a Fellow of Bene't college and an Academical Tutor. He had differed with the poet in his views of the character of Scriptural truth, but upon his death-bed he allowed that he was wrong and his brother right. The picture, as exhibited by the excellent survivor, was highly interesting, and we gladly transfer a portion of the sketch to our pages. "It pleased God to cut short my brother's connections and expectations here, yet, not without giving him lively and glorious views of a better happiness than any he could propose to himself in such a world as this. Notwithstanding his great learning, (for he was one of the chief men in the university in that respect,) he was candid and sincere in his inquiries after truth. Though he could not agree to my sentiments when I first acquainted him with them, nor in many conversations, which I afterwards had with him upon the subject, could he be brought to acquiesce in them as scriptural and true, yet I had no sooner left St. Albans, than he began to study with the deepest attention those points on which we differed, and to furnish himself with the best writers upon them. His mind was kept open to conviction for five years, during all which time he laboured in this pursuit with unwearied diligence, whilst leisure and opportunity were afforded. Amongst his dying words were these:- Brother, I thought you wrong, yet wanted to believe as you did. I found myself not able to believe, yet always thought I should be one day brought to do so.' From the study of books he was brought, upon his death-bed, to the study of himself, and there learnt to renounce his righteousness, and his own most amiable character, and to submit himself to the righteousness which is of God by faith. With these views, he was desirous of death; satisfied of his interest in the blessings purchased by the blood of Christ, he prayed for death with earnestness, felt the approaches of it with joy, and died in peace.' "It afforded Cowper inexpressible delight to witness, in his brother's case, the consoling and animating power of those principles which he had himself found to be so highly beneficial. This had been the object of his most anxious solicitude, from the period that God was pleased to visit him with the consolations of his grace. From that time he took occasion to declare to his brother what God had done for his soul; and neglected no opportunity of attempting to engage him in conversation of a spiritual kind. On his first visit to him at Cambridge, after he left St. Alban's, his heart being then full of the subject, he poured it out to his brother without reserve, taking care to shew him, that what he had received was not merely a new set of notions, but a real impression of the truths of the Gospel. His brother listened to his statements at first with some attention, and often laboured to convince him, that the difference in their sentiments was much less real than verbal. Subsequently, however, he became more reserved; and though he heard patiently, he never replied, nor ever discovered a desire to converse on the subject. At the commencement of his affliction, little as was the concern he then felt for his spiritual interests, the thoughts of God, and of eternity would sometimes force themselves upon his mind; at every little prospect of recovery, however, he found it no difficult matter to thrust them out again. It was evident that his mind was very far from being set on things spiritual and heavenly, as on almost every subject, but that of religion, he could converse fluently. At every suitable opportunity Cowper endeavoured to give a serious turn to the discourse, but without any apparent success. Having obtained his permission, he prayed with him frequently; still, however, he seemed as careless and unconcerned as ever." pp. 80-82. He was not, however, so insensible as this passage would seem to represent him; for we find Cowper saying in one of his letters: "He told me, that from the time he was first ordained, he began to be dissatisfied with his religious opinions, and to suspect that there were greater things revealed in the Bible than were generally believed or allowed to be there. From the time when I first visited him, after my release from St. Alban's, he began to read upon the subject. It was at that time I informed him of the views of Divine truth, which I had received in that school of affliction. He laid what I said to heart, and began to furnish himself with the best writers on the controverted points, whose works he read with great diligence and attention, carefully comparing them with the Scriptures. None ever truly, and ingenuously sought the truth, but they found it. A spirit of earnest inquiry is the gift of God, who never says to any, Seek ye my face, in vain. Accordingly, about ten days before his death, it pleased the Lord to dispel all his doubts, to reveal in his heart the knowledge of the Saviour, and to give him that firm and unshaken confidence in the ability and willingness of Christ to save sinners, which is invariably followed by a joy that is unspeakable and full of glory.” p. 84. Cowper gives his brother's dying remarks elsewhere more fully, as quoted by Mr. Taylor: "One afternoon, a few days before he died, he suddenly burst into tears, and said, with a loud cry, O forsake me not!' Cowper went to the bed-side, grasped his |