border of it was the most beautiful I had ever seen. |at this season, that he was much less affected by the We sat down upon an eminence, at the end of that solemn event, than he would probably have been arm of the sea which runs between Southampton had it occurred at any earlier or later period of his and the New Forest. Here it was, that on a sudden, life. Perceiving that he should inherit but little as if another sun had been created that instant in fortune from his father, he now found it necessary the heavens on purpose to dispel sorrow and vexa-to adopt some plan to augment his income. It betion of spirit, I felt the weight of all my misery came every day more apparent to his friends, as taken off; my heart became light and joyful in a well as to himself, that his extreme diffidence premoment; I could have wept with transport had I cluded the possibility of his being successful in his been alone. I must needs believe that nothing less profession. After much anxiety of mind on this than the Almighty fiat could have filled me with subject, he at length mentioned it to a friend, who such inexpressible delight; not by a gradual dawn- had two situations at his disposal, the Reading ing of peace, but, as it were, with a flash of his life- Clerk, and Clerk of the Journals in the House of giving countenance. I felt a glow of gratitude to Lords-situations, either of which Cowper then the Father of mercies for this unexpected blessing, thought would suit him, and one of which he exand ascribed it, at first, to his gracious acceptance pressed a desire to obtain, should a vacancy occur. of my prayers; but Satan and my own wicked heart Quite unexpectedly to him, as well as to his friend, quickly persuaded me that I was indebted for my both these places, in a short time afterwards, became deliverance to nothing but a change of scene and vacant; and as the Reading Clerk's was much the the amusing varieties of the place. By this means, more valuable of the two, his friend generously ofhe turned the blessing into a poison; teaching me fered it to him, which offer he gladly and grateto conclude, that nothing but a continued circle of fully accepted, and he was accordingly appointed diversion, and indulgence of appetite, could secure to it in his thirty-first year. me from a relapse. Acting upon this false and pernicious principle, as soon as I returned to London, I burnt my prayers, and away went all my thoughts of devotion, and of dependence upon God my Saviour. Surely, it was of his mercy that I was not consumed. Glory be to his grace.

All his friends were delighted with this providential opening: he himself, at first, looked forward to it with pleasure, intending, as soon as he was settled, to unite himself with an amiable and accomplished young lady, one of his cousins, for whom he had long cherished a tender attachment. These fond "I obtained, at length, so complete a victory over hopes, however, were never realized. The situamy conscience, that all remonstrances from that tion required him to appear at the bar of the House quarter were in vain, and in a manner silenced, of Peers; and the apprehension of this public exthough sometimes, indeed, a question would arise inhibition quite overwhelmed his meek and gentle my mind, whether it were safe to proceed any far-spirit. So acute were his distressing apprehensions, ther in a course so plainly and utterly condemned in the Scriptures. I saw clearly, that if the gospel were true, such a conduct must inevitably end in my destruction; but I saw not by what means I could change my Ethiopian complexion, or overcome such an inveterate habit of rebelling against God.

that, notwithstanding the previous efforts he made to qualify himself for the office, long before the day arrived that he was to enter upon it, such was the embarrassed and melancholy state of his mind, that he was compelled to relinquish it entirely. His harassed and dejected feelings on this occasion he thus affectingly describes:

"The next thing that occurred to me at such a time, was a doubt whether the gospel were true or "All the considerations by which I endeavored false. To this, succeeded many an anxious wish to compose my mind to its former tranquillity, did for the decision of this important question; for I but torment me the more, proving miserable comfoolishly thought that obedience would follow, were forters, and counsellors of no value. I returned to I but convinced that it was worth while to attend to my chambers, thoughtful and unhappy; my counit. Having no reason to expect a miracle, and not tenance fell; and my friend was astonished, instead hoping to be satisfied with any thing less, I acqui- of that additional cheerfulness which he might esced, at length, in favor of that impious conclu- have so reasonably expected, to find an air of deep sion, that the only course I could take to secure my melancholy in all I said or did. Having been hapresent peace, was to wink hard against the pros- rassed in this manner, by day and night, for the pects of future misery, and to resolve to banish all space of a week, perplexed between the apparent thoughts of a subject upon which I thought to so folly of casting away the only visible chance I had little purpose. Nevertheless, when I was in the com- of being well provided for, and the impossibility of pany of deists, and heard the gospel blasphemed, I retaining it, I determined at length to write a letter never failed to assert the truth of it with much ve- to my friend, though he lodged, in a manner, at the hemence of disputation, for which I was the better next door, and we generally spent the day together. qualified, having been always an industrious and I did so, and begged him to accept my resignation diligent inquirer into the evidences by which it is of the Reading Clerk's place, and to appoint me to externally supported. I think I once went so far the other situation. I was well aware of the disinto a controversy of this kind as to assert, that I proportion between the value of the appointments, would gladly submit to have my right hand cut off, but my peace was gone: pecuniary advantages so that I might but be enabled to live according to were not equivalent to what I had lost; and I flatterthe gospel. Thus have I been employed in vindi-ed myself that the Clerkship of the Journals would cating the truth of Scripture, while in the very act fall, fairly and easily, within the scope of my abiof rebelling against its dictates. Lamentable in-lities. Like a man in a fever, I thought a change consistency of a convinced judgment with an unsanctified heart!-an inconsistency, indeed, evident to others as well as to myself; inasmuch as a deistical companion of mine, with whom I was disputing upon the subject, cut short the matter by alleging, that if what I said were true, I was certainly condemned, by my own showing."

In 1756, Cowper sustained a heavy domestic loss, in the death of his excellent father, towards whom he had always felt the strongest parental regard. Such, however was the depressed state of his mind

of posture would relieve my pain, and, as the event will show, was equally disappointed. My friend, at length, after considerable reluctance, accepted of my resignation, and appointed me to the least profitable office. The matter being thus settled, something like a calm took place in my mind: I was, indeed, not a little concerned about my character, being aware that it must needs suffer by the strange appearance of my proceeding. This, however, being but a small part of the anxiety I had labored under, was hardly felt when the rest was taken off

I thought my path towards an easy maintenance | Oh, my good cous.n! if I was to open my heart to was now plain and open, and, for a day or two, was you, I could show you strange sights; nothing, I tolerably cheerful: but behold, the storm was ga- flatter myself, that would shock you, but a good thering all the while, and the fury of it was not the deal that would make you wonder. I am of a very less violent from this gleam of sunshine. singular temper, and very unlike all the men that I have ever conversed with. Certainly I am not an absolute fool; but I have more weakness than the greatest of all fools I can recollect at present. In short, if I was as fit for the next world as I am urfit for this-and God forbid that I should speak it in vanity-I would not change conditions with any saint in Christendom. Ever since I was born, I have been good at disappointing the most natural expectations. Many years ago, cousin, there was a possibility that I might prove a very different thing from what I am at present. My character is now fixed, and riveted fast upon me; and, between friends, is not a very splendid one, or likely to be guilty of much fascination."

"A strong opposition to my friend's right of nomination began to show itself. A powerful party was formed among the lords to thwart it, and it appeared plain, that if we succeeded at last, it could oly be by fighting our ground by inches. Every advantage, I was told, would be sought for, and eagerly seized, to disconcert us. I was led to expect an examination at the bar of the house, touching my sufficiency for the post I had taken. Being necessarily ignorant of the nature of that business, it became expedient that I should visit the office daily, in order to qualify myself for the strictest scrutiny. All the horror of my fears and perplexities now returned; a thunderbolt would have been as welcome to me as this intelligence. I knew that, upon such terms, the Clerkship of the: Journals was no place for me. To require my attendance at the bar of the House, that I might there publicly entitle myself to the office, was, in effect, to exclude me from it. In the mean time, the interest of my friend, the causes of his choice, and my own reputation and circumstances, all urged me forward, and pressed me to undertake that which I saw to be impracticable. They whose spirits are formed like mine, to whom a public exhibition of themselves, on any occasion, is mortal poison, may have some idea of the horror of my situation-others can have none. My continual misery at length brought on a nervous fever: quiet forsook me by day, and peace by night; even a finger raised against me seemed more than I could bear.

"In_this posture of mind, I attended regularly at the office, where, instead of a soul upon the rack, the most active spirits were essential to my purpose. I expected no assistance from any one there, all the inferior clerks being under the influence of my opponents; accordingly, I received none. The Journal books were, indeed thrown open to me; a thing which could not be refused, and from which, perhaps, a man in health, with a head turned to business, might have gained all the information wanted, But it was not so with me. I read without perception, and was so distressed, that had every clerk in the office been my friend, it would have availed me little, for I was not in a condition to receive instruction, much less to elicit it from manuscripts, without direction."

Many months was Cowper thus employed, constant in the use of means to qualify himself for the office, yet despairing as to the issue. At length he says,

"The vacation being pretty far advanced, I repaired to Margate. There, by the help of eneerful company, a new scene, and the intermission of my painful employment, I presently began to recover my spirits; though even here, for some time after my arrival, (notwithstanding, perhaps, the preceding day had been spent agreeably, and without any disturbing recollection of my circumstances,) my first reflections, when I awoke in the morning, were horrible and full of wretchedness. I looked forward to the approaching winter, and regretted the flight of every moment which brought it nearer, like a man borne away, by a rapid torrent, into a stormy sea, whence he sees no possibility of returning, and where he knows he cannot subsist. By degrees, I acquired such a facility in turning away my thoughts from the ensuing crisis, that, for weeks together, I hardly adverted to it at all but the stress of the tempest was yet to come, and was not to be avoided by any resolution of mine to look another way.

"How wonderful are the works of the Lord, and his ways past finding out! Thus was he preparing me for an event which I least of all expected, even the reception of his blessed gospel, working by means which, in all human contemplation, must needs seem directly opposite to that purpose, but which, in his wise and gracious disposal, have, I trust, effectually accomplished it."

In October, 1763, Cowper was again required to The following extract from a letter to his amiable attend the office, and prepare for the final push. cousin, Lady Hesketh, written 9th August, 1763, This recalled all his fears, and produced a renewal through which runs that happy mixture of what of all his former misery. On revisiting the scene may not perhaps improperly be termed, playful seri- of his previous ineffectual labors, he felt himself ousness, which distinguishes almost the whole of pressed by difficulties on either side, with nothing his epistolary productions, and imparts to them a before him but prospects of gloom and despair. He charm superior to that of almost any other writer, saw that he must either keep possession of the sitawill illustrate the state of his mind at that period. ation to the last extremity, and thus expose himself "Having promised to write to you, I make haste to to the risk of public rejection for his insufficiency, be as good as my word. I have a pleasure in wri- or relinquish it at once, and thus run the hazard of ting to you at any time, but especially at the present, ruining his benefactor's right of appointment, and when my days are spent in reading the Journals, losing the only chance he seemed to have of proand my nights in dreaming of them, an employ-curing for himself a comfortable competence for ment not very agreeable to a head that has long been habituated to the luxury of choosing its subject, and has been as little employed upon business, as if it had grown upon the shoulders of a much wealthier gentleman. But the numscull pays for it now, and will not presently forget the discipline it has undergone lately. If I succeed in this doubtful piece of promotion, I shall have at least the satisfaction to reflect upon, that the volumes I write will be treasured up with the utmost care for ages, and will last as long as the English constitution, a duration which ought to satisfy the vanity of any author.

life, and of being united to the individual to whom he was most tenderly and affectionately attached.

His terrors on this occasion had become so overwhelming, as to induce that lamented aberration of mind under which he is generally known to have suffered. The dreadful apprehensions which for so long a time had haunted him day and night, leaving him not a moment's interval of peace, had, at length, wound him up to the highest pitch of mental agony. The anguish of his lacerated spirit was inconceivable. The idea of appearing in public was, to his gentle but amiable mind, even more bit

ter than death. To his disordered perception there appeared no possibility for him to escape from the horrors of his situation, but by an escape from life itself. Death, which he had always shuddered at before, he began ardently to wish for now. He could see nothing before him but difficulties perfectly insurmountable. The supposed ruined state of his pecuniary circumstances the imagined contempt of his relations and acquaintance-and the apprehended prejudice he should do his patron, urged the fatal expedient upon his shattered intellect, which he now meditated with inexpressible

energy.

of which he had feared more than he feared death
itself, such were the melancholy results of his dis-
tress, that all his friends immediately acquiesced in
the propriety of his relinquishing the situation for
ever. Thus ended his connection with the House
of Lords; unhappily, however, his sufferings did
not end here. Despair still inflicted on him its
deadliest sting, and he saw not how it could be ex-
tracted; Grief poured its full tide of anguish into
his heart, and he could perceive nothing before him
but one interminable prospect of misery.
"O Providence! mysterious are thy ways!
Inflexible thine everlasting plans!

The finite power of man can ne'er resist
The unseen hand which guides, protects, preserves,
Nor penetrates the inscrutable design

Of Him, whose council is his sovereign will.
Prosperity's bright sun withdraws his beams,
Thick clouds and tempests gather round the sky,
The winds of fierce temptations, and the waves
Of trials fell, assault the feeble bark,

And drive it headlong 'midst the cragged rocks
We look with wonder on, but seek in vain
The deep designs of Heaven herein to scan;
The sacred page itself reveals not this.
Yet who that knows there is a Power above,
Would not assert eternal Providence,
And justify the works of God to man?"

At this important crisis, when it pleased God, who giveth not to man an account of his proceedings, to permit a cloud, darker than midnight, to gather round the mind of the poet, so that he saw no possible way of escape but the one above alluded to, and when he peculiarly needed the counsel of some judicious and kind friend, it so happened that he fell successively into the company of two most unhappy sophists, who both advanced claims to the right of self-destruction, and whose fallacious arguments won him over to their pernicious views. This was, unhappily, rendered more easy than it otherwise would have been, by his recollection of an impious book which he had read when very young, the arguments of which, though they then appeared to At this period of the poet's history, it appears dehim, in their true light, as utterly inconclusive and sirable to remark, in confutation of those who attriperfectly contemptible, now came afresh to his dis-bute, or at least endeavor to attribute his malady to ordered mind, and seemed irrefutable; the situation in which he was now placed, inducing him to catch eagerly at any thing that would justify the means of relief to which he wished to resort. How careful ought all to be, who are intrusted with the education of youth, that no pernicious books may fall into their hands! No evil consequences may, perhaps, arise from it at the time, but who can calculate what may be the future result?

his religion, that, viewed either as an originating cause, or in any other light, it can never be proved to have had any connection with it. It will not be denied, that those sacred truths, which, in all cases where they are properly received, prove an unfailing source of the most salutary contemplation to the underanged mind, were in his case, through the distorting medium of his malady, converted into a vehicle of intellectual poison. It is, however, as Dr. The disordered state of Cowper's mind, at this Johnson well observes, "a most erroneous and unperiod, will be seen by the following anecdote. happy idea to suppose that those views of ChristiTaking up a newspaper for the day, his eye caught anity which Cowper adopted, and of which, when a satirical letter which it happened to contain, and enjoying the intervals of reason, after he was though it had no relation whatever to his case, he brought to the knowledge of them, he was so bright doubted not but the writer was fully acquainted an ornament, had in any degree contributed to exwith his purpose, and in fact, intended to hasten its cite the malady with which he was afflicted. It is execution. Wrought up to a degree of anguish capable of the clearest demonstration that nothing almost unbearable, he now experienced a convul- was further from the truth. On the contrary, all sive agitation that in a manner deprived him of all those alleviations of sorrow, those delightful anticihis powers. Hurried on by the deplorable induce-pations of heavenly rest, those healing consolations ments above related, and perceiving no possibility of escaping from his misery by any other means, all around him wearing only an aspect of gloom and despair, it will be no wonder to the reader, that before the tremendous day approached, the day on which his tender spirit was to have encountered an examination before the House of Lords, he had made several attempts at the escape above alluded to. Most happily, indeed, and most mercifully, for himself and for others, they were only attempts; for it was the will of a gracious Providence, not only to preserve his life for the exercise of a sound and vigorous mind, but to make that mind an instrument of incalculable benefit to his country, and, we may almost say, to the world, by advancing and promoting the best interests of mankind, morality and religion.

The depths of affliction and sorrow which the amiable sufferer now endured, were such that he might truly say with the Psalmist, "All thy waves and thy billows are gone over me. I am troubled, I am bowed down greatly, my heart is pained within me, my sorrow is continually before me; fearfulness and trembling are come upon me. I sink in deep mire where is no standing, I am come into deep waters where the floods overflow me." When at length the long-dreaded day arrived, the approach

to a wounded spirit, of which he was permitted to taste, at the period when interrupted reason resumed its sway, were unequivocally to be ascribed to the operation of those very principles and vicws of religion, which, in the instance before us, have been charged with producing so opposite an effect. The primary aberration of his mental faculties was wholly to be attributed to other causes," as indeed will satisfactorily appear, by the following affecting description he has given of himself at this period.

"To this moment, I had felt no concern of a spiritual kind: ignorant of original sin; insensible of the guilt of actual transgression, I understood neither the law nor the gospel-the condemning nature of the one, nor the restoring mercies of the other. I was as much unacquainted with Christ in all his saving offices, as if his name had never reached me. Now, therefore, a new scene opened upon me.

"My sins were set in array against me, and I began to see and feel that I had lived without God in the world. One moment I thought myself shut out from mercy by one chapter, and the next by another. The sword of the Spirit seemed to guard the tree of life against my touch, and to flame against me in every avenue by which I attempted to approach . particularly remember, that the parable of the bar

I

en fig-tree was to me an inconceivable source of anguish. I applied it to my case, with a strong persuasion that it was a curse pronounced on me by the Saviour.

"In every volume I opened, I found something that struck me to the heart. I remember taking up one; and the first sentence I saw condemned me. Every thing seemed to preach to me, not the gospel of mercy, but the curse of the law. In a word, I saw myself a sinner altogether; but I saw not yet a glimpse of the mercy of God in Christ Jesus the Lord."

Cowper now wrote to his brother to inform him of the afflicting circumstances in which he was placed. His brother immediately paid him a visit, and employed every means in his power to alleviate his distress. All his efforts, however, proved unavailing; he found him almost overwhelmed with despair, pertinaciously maintaining, in spite of all remonstrances to the contrary, that he had been guilty of the unpardonable sin, in not properly improving the mercy of God towards him at Southampton. No favorable construction put upon his conduct in that instance, by his brother, nor any argument he employed, afforded him a moment's alleviation of his distress. He rashly concluded that he had no longer any interest in the atonement, or in the gifts of the Spirit, and that nothing was left for him but the dismal prospect of eternally enduring the wrath of God. His brother, pierced to the heart at the sight of his misery, used every means to comfort him, but all to no purpose; so deeply seated was his depression, that it rendered utterly useless all the soothing reflections that were suggested.

in a brief but very sincere petition, "Most earnestly do I wish it would please God to bestow it on me.'

His brother, perceiving he had received some benefit from this interview, in his desire to relieve the poet's depressed mind, wisely overlooked the difference of sentiments on the great subjects of religion, which then existed between himself and Mr. Madan, and discovered the greatest anxiety that he should embrace the earliest opportunity to converse with him again. He now urged Cowper to visit Mr. Madan at his own house, and offered to accompany him thither. After much entreaty, Cowper consented; and though the conversation was not then the means of affording him any permanent relief, it was not without its use. He was easier, but not easy; the wounded spirit within him was less in pain, but by no means healed. A long train of still greater terrors than any he had yet endured was at hand; and when he awoke the next morning, after a few hours' sleep, he seemed to feel a stronger alienation from God than ever. He was now again the subject of the deepest mental anguish; the sorrows of death seemed to encompass, and the pains of hell to get hold of him; his ears rang with the sound of the torments that seemed to await him; his terrified imagination presented to him many horrible visions, and led him to conceive that he heard many horrible sounds; his heart seemed at every pulse to beat its last; his conscience scared him; the avenger of blood seemed to pursue him; and he saw no city of refuge into which he could flee; every moment he expected the earth would open, and swallow him up.

He was now suddenly attacked with that nervous affection, of which the peculiar form of his mind seemed to have made him susceptible, which on several subsequent occasions darkened his brightest prospects, and which ultimately overwhelmed his meek and gentle spirit, and caused him to end his days in circumstances the most gloomy and sorrowful. So violent was the attack on this occasion, that his friends instantly perceived the change, and consulted on the best manner to dispose of him. Dr. Cotton then kept an establishment at St. Alban's for the reception of such patients. His skill as a physician, his well known humanity and sweetness of temper, and the acquaintance that had subsisted between him and the afflicted patient, slight as it was, determined them to place him under the doctor's care. No determination could have been more wisely taken; and subsequent events proved it to have been under His superintendence, who orders all things according to the councils of his own will, and who, with the tenderest solicitude, watches over his people; managing those events which to us appear contingent, on principles of unerring wisdom; and overruling them for the accomplishment of his gracious and benevolent intentions.

At this trying period Cowper remembered his friend and relative, the Rev. Martin Madan; and, though he had always considered him as an enthusiast, he was now convinced that, if there was any balm in Gilead for him, Mr. Madan was the only person who could administer it. His friend lost no time in paying him a visit; and perceiving the state of his mind, he began immediately to declare unto him the gospel of Christ. He spoke of original sin, of the corruption of every man born into the world; of the efficacy of the atonement made by Jesus Christ; of the Redeemer's compassion for lost sinners, and of the full salvation provided for them in the gospel. He then adverted to the Saviour's intercession; described him as a compassionate Redeemer, who felt deeply interested in the welfare of every true penitent, who could sympathize with those who were in distress, and who was able to save unto the uttermost all that come unto God by him. To this important information Cowper listened with the greatest attention; hope seemed to dawn upon his disconsolate mind; his heart burned within him whilst he listened to the word of life; his soul was pierced with a sense of his great ingratitude to so merciful a Saviour; tears of contrition burst from his eyes; he saw clearly that this was the remedy his case required; and felt fully persuaded that this was indeed the gospel of salvation. He, however, wanted that faith without which he could not recover its blessings. He saw the suitability of this gospel to his circumstances, but saw not yet how one, so vile as he conceived himself to His removal to St. Alban's. Painful state of his mind there. Re be, could hope to partake of its benefits.

Mr. Madan urged the necessity of a lively faith in the Redeemer, not as an assent of the understanding only, but as the cordial belief of the heart unto righteousness; assured him, that though faith was the gift of God, yet was it a gift that our heavenly Father was most willing to bestow, not on one only, but on all that sought it by earnest and persevering prayer. Cowper deeply deplored the want of this th, and could only reply to his friend's remarks,

"An anxious world may sigh in vain for what
Kind Heaven decrees in goodness to withhold;
But the momentous volume of his mind,
When seen in yonder world, shall be approved,
And all its plans pronounced unerring love."

CHAPTER III.

ceives a visit from his brother. Good effects of it. His recovery. How it was effected. His subsequent happiness. Pleasing conver sation with Dr. Cotton. The delightful manner in which he now passed his time. Description of his experience. His gratitude to God. Employs his brother to look out for him a new residence Leaves St. Alban's. Feelings on the occasion.

On the 7th December, 1763, he was removed to St. Alban's, and placed under the care of Dr. Cotton. And, notwithstanding the skilful and judicious treatment pursued to effect his restoration,

he remained in the same gloomy and desponding "A few days after my arrival at St. Alban's, I had state for five months. Every means that ingenuity thrown aside the Bible as a book in which I had no could devise, and that benevolence and tenderness longer any interest or portion. The only instance could prompt, were resorted to for this protracted in which I can recollect reading a single chapter, period in vain. To describe in lengthened detail was about two months before my recovery. Hav the state of his mind during this long interval, ing found a Bible on the bench in the garden. I would justly be deemed injudicious As Mr. Hay- opened it upon the 11th of John, where the miracle ley very properly remarks, "Mental derangement of Lazarus being raised from the dead is described; is a topic of such awful delicacy, that it is the duty and I saw so much berevolence, goodness, and merof a biographer, rather to sink in tender silence, cy, in the Saviour's conduct, that I almost shed than to proclaim with offensive temerity, the minute tears at the relation, little thinking that it was an particulars of a calamity to which all human beings exact type of the mercy, which Jesus was on the are exposed, and perhaps, in proportion as they point of extending towards myself. I sighed, and have received from nature, those delightful but dan-said, Oh, that I had not rejected so good a Redeemer, gerous gifts a heart of exquisite tenderness, and a mind of creative energy." This, as Cowper most beautifully sings:

"This is a sight for pity to peruse,

Till she resembles faintly what she views; This, of all maladies that man infest, Claims most compassion and receives the least." Without, however, entering minutely into particulars, on this painful subject, it will not be deemed improper to mention some of the leading facts respecting it, and here we shall allow the poet again to become his own biographer.

"The accuser of the brethren was ever busy with me night and day, bringing to my recollection, the commission of long forgotten sins, and charging upon my conscience, things of an indifferent nature as atrocious crimes. Conviction of sin, and despair of mercy, were the two prominent evils with which I was continually tormented. But, blessed be the God of my salvation for every sigh I drew, and for every tear I shed, since thus it pleased him to judge me here, that I might not be judged hereafter.

that I had not forfeited all his favor! Thus was my hard heart softened; and though my mind was not yet enlightened, God was gradually preparing me for the light of his countenance, and the joys of his salvation.

"The cloud of horror which had so long hung over my mind began rapidly to pass away, every that I was not utterly doomed to destruction. The moment came fraught with hopes. I felt persuaded way of salvation was still, however, hid from my eyes; nor did I see it clearer than before my illness. only thought, that if it pleased God to spare me, I would lead a better life; and that I would yet escape hell, if a religious observance of my duty would secure me from it. Thus, may the terror of the Lord make a pharisee; but only the sweet voice of mercy in the gospel can make a Christian.

"But the happy period, which was to shake off my fetters, and afford me a clear discovery of the free mercy of God in Christ Jesus was now arrived. I flung myself into a chair, near the window, and seeing a Bible there, ventured once more to apply to it for comfort and instruction. The first verse l "After five months' continued expectation that saw, was the 25th of the 3d of Romans: Whom the divine vengeance would plunge me into the bot- God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith tomless pit, I became so familiar with despair, as to in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the rehave contracted a sort of hardiness and indifference mission of sins that are past, through the forbearance as to the event. I began to persuade myself, that while of God. Immediately I received strength to bethe execution of the sentence was suspended, it would lieve, and the full beams of the sun of righteousness be for my interest to indulge a less horrible train of shone upon me. I saw the sufficiency of the atoneideas, than I had been accustomed to muse upon. I ment he had made for my pardon and complete justientered into conversation with the doctor, laughed fication. In a moment I believed, and received the at his stories, and told him some of my own to match peace of the gospel. Whatever my friend Madan them; still, however, carrying a sentence of irrevo-had said to me, long before, revived in all its clearcable doom in my heart. He observed the seeming ness, with the demonstration of the spirit, and with alteration with pleasure, and began to think my re- power. covery well nigh completed; but the only thing that could promote and effectuate my cure, was yet wanting; an experimental knowledge of the redemption. which is in Christ Jesus.

"About this time my brother came from Cambridge to pay me a visit. Dr. C. having informed him, that he thought me better, he was disappointed at finding me almost as silent and reserved as ever. As soon as we were left alone, he asked me how I found myself; I answered, as much better as despair can make me. We went together into the garden. Here, on my expressing a settled assurance of sudden judgment, he protested to me that it was all a delusion; and protested so strongly, that I could not help giving some attention to him. I burst into tears, and cried out, If it be a delusion, then am I the happiest of beings. Something like a ray of hope was now shot into my heart, but still I was afraid to indulge it. We dined together, and I spent the afternoon in a more cheerful manner. Something seemed to whisper to me, every moment, still there is mercy. Even after he left me, this change of sentiment gathered round continually; yet, my mind was in such a fluctuating state, that I can only call it a vague presage of better things at hand, without being able to assign any reason for

it.

"Unless the Almighty arm had been under me, I think I should have been overwhelmed with gratitude and joy. My eyes filled with tears, and my voice choked with transport. I could only look up to heaven in silent fear, overwhelmed with love and wonder. But the work of the Holy Spirit is best described in his own words:-it is 'Joy unspeakable and full of glory.' Thus was my heavenly father in Christ Jesus, pleased to give me the full assurance of faith; and, out of a strong, unbelieving heart, to raise up a child unto Abraham. How glad should I now have been to have spent every moment in prayer and thanksgiving! I lost no opportunity of repairing to the throne of grace; but flew to it with an earnestness irresistible, and never to be satisfied. Could I help it? Could I do otherwise than love and rejoice in my reconciled Father in Christ Jesus? The Lord had enlarged my heart, and I could now cheerfully run in the way of his commandments.

"For many succeeding weeks tears would be ready to flow if I did but speak of the gospel, or mention the name of Jesus. To rejoice day and night was all my employment; too happy to sleep much, I thought it but lost time that was thus spent. Oh, that the ardor of my first love had continued! But I have known many a lifeless and unhallowed hour

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