| 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 delighted 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. 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 and familiar intercourse, and be subject to a less expensive establishment. It providentially occurred to him, that he might probably be admitted, on such terms, into Mr. Unwin's family. He knew that a young gentleman, who had lived with them as a pupil, had just left them for Cambridge, and it appeared not improbable, that he might be allowed to succeed him, not as a pupil, but as an inmate. This subject occasioned him a tumult of anxious solicitude, and for some days he could not possibly divert his attention from it. He at length made it the subject of earnest prayer to his Heavenly Father, that he would be pleased to bring this affair to such an issue, as would be most calculated to promote His own glory; and he had the satisfaction, in a short time, to receive a gracious answer to his petitions. 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. The manner in which he spent his time while as sociated 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 I wish for your growth in every Christian grace, in every thing that may promote and secure your everlasting welfare." To his cousin, Mrs. Cowper, he thus writes:"I am obliged to you for the interest you take in my welfare, and for your inquiring so particularly after the manner in which my time passes here. As to amusements-I mean what the world calls such -we have none; the place, indeed, swarms with them, and cards and dancing are the professed business of almost all the gentle inhabitants of Huntingdon. We refuse to take part in them, or to be ac- cessories to this way of murdering our time, and by so doing have acquired the name of Methodists. Having told you how we do not spend our time, I will next say how we do. We breakfast commonly between eight and nine; till eleven, we read either the Scripture or the sermons of some faithful preacher; at eleven, we attend divine service, which is performed here every day; and from twelve to three, 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 son, I have generally the pleasure of religious conversation till tea-time. If it rains, or is too windy for walking, we either converse within doors, or sing some hymns of Martin's collection, and by the help of Mrs. Unwin's harpsichord, make up a tolerable concert, in which our hearts are the best and the most musical performers. After tea, we sally forth to take a walk in good earnest, and we have generally travelled four miles before we see home again. At night we read and converse till supper, and commonly finish the evening either with hymns, or with a sermon; and last of all, the family are called to prayers. I need not tell you that such a life as this is consistent with the utmost cheerfulness; accordingly, we are all happy, and dwell together in unity as brethren. Mrs. Unwin has almost a maternal affection for me, and I have something very like a filial one for her, and her son and I are brothers. Blessed be the God of our salvation for such companions, and for such a life; above all, for a heart to relish it." It was during his residence with this family, while they resided at Huntingdon, that he wrote some of those excellent letters to Mrs. Cowper, with extracts from which it is our intention to enrich this part of his memoirs. Speaking of the knowledge which Christians will have of each other hereafter, he remarks:-"Reason is able to form many plausible conjectures concerning the possibility of our knowing each other in a future state; and the Scripture has, here and there, favored us with an expression that looks at least like a slight intimation of it; but because a conjecture can never amount to a proof, and a slight intimation cannot be construed into a positive assertion, therefore I think we can never come to any absolute conclusion upon the subject. We may, indeed, reason about the plausibility of our conjectures, and we may discuss, with great industry and shrewdness of argument, those passages in the Scripture which seem to favor this opinion; but still no certain means having been afforded us, no certain end can be attained; and after all that can be said, it will still be doubtful whether we shall know each other or not. Both reason and Scripture, however, furnish us with a great number of arguments on the affirmative side. In the parable of Dives and Lazarus, Dives is represented as knowing Lazarus, and Abraham as knowing them both, and the discourse between them is entirely concerning their respective characters and circumstances upon earth. Here, therefore, our Saviour seems to countenance the notion of a mutual knowledge and recollection; and if a soul that has perished shall know a soul that is saved, surely the heirs of salvation shall know and recollect each other. 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 corruptions 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 honor 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 with it, we shall know how to value the blood by which we were cleansed, as we ought." In the following letter to the same lady, he says: "I am not sorry that what I have said concerning our knowledge of each other, in a future state, has a little inclined you to the affirmative. For though the redeemed of the Lord will be sure of being happy in that state, as infinite power, employed by infinite goodness, can make them, and therefore, it may seem immaterial whether we shall or shall not recollect each other hereafter; yet, our present happiness, at least, is a little interested in the question. A parent, a friend, a wife, must needs, I think, feel a little heart-ache at the thought of an eternal separation from the objects of their regard: and not to know them when they meet them in another state, or never to meet them at all, amounts, though not altogether, yet nearly to the same thing. Remember and recognize them, I have no doubt we shall; and to believe that they are happy will, indeed, be no small addition to our own felicity; but to see them so, will surely be a greater. Thus, at least, it appears to our present human apprehension; consequently, therefore, to think that when we leave them we lose them for ever, and must remain eternally ignorant whether those, who were flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone, partake with us of celestial glory, or are disinherited of their heavenly portion, must shed a dismal gloom over all our present connections. 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 fugiIn another letter, the following excellent remarks tive business. Yet friendship is necessary to our occur respecting what will engage our thoughts and happiness here, and built upon Christian principles, form part of our communications in heaven:-"The upon which only it can stand, is a thing even of common and ordinary occurrences of life, no doubt, religious sanction-for what is that love, which the and even the ties of kindred, and of all temporal Holy Spirit, speaking by St. John, so much inculinterests, will be entirely discarded from that happy cates, but friendship? The only love which desociety, and possibly even the remembrance of them serves the name, is a love which can enable the done away; but it does not therefore follow that our Christian to toil, and watch, and deny himself, and spiritual concerns, even in this life, will be forgot-risk even exposure to death, for his brother. Worldly ten, neither do I think that they can ever appear friendships are a poor weed compared with this; "Paul, in the first epistle to the Thessalonians, encourages the faithful and laborious minister of Christ to expect that a knowledge of those who had been converted by their instrumentality would contribute greatly to augment their felicity in a future state, when each minister should appear before the throne of God, saying, 'Here am I, with the children thou hast given me.' This seems to imply, that the apostle should know the converts, and the converts the apostle, at least at the day of judgment, and if then, why not afterwards?" 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." and affectionate obedience to the will of the most Holy. "These, my dear cousin, are the truths to which, by nature, we are enemies; they debase the sinner, and exalt the Saviour, to a degree, which the pride of our hearts, while unsubdued by grace, is determined never to allow. May the Almighty reveal his Son in our hearts, continually more and more, and teach us ever to increase in love towards him for having given us the unspeakable riches of Christ." In the following letter to the same lady, he again writes:-"I think Marshall one of the best writers, and the most spiritual expositors of the Scripture, ever read. I admire the strength of his argument, and the clearness of his reasonings, upon those points of our most holy religion which are generally least understood (even by real Christians) as master-pieces of the kind. His section upon the union of the soul with Christ is an instance of what I mean; in which he has spoken of a most mysterious truth, with admirable perspicuity, and with great good sense, making it all the while subservient to his main purport, of proving holiness to be the fruit and effect of faith. I never met with an author who understood the plan of salvation better, or was more happy in explaining it." The anxiety of his mind respecting religion, and the progress he had made, and was still making in. it, will appear from the following extract:-"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 surren- That Cowper inspected very closely, and watched der up to him that life which I have twice received very narrowly his own heart, will appear by the from him. Whether I live or die, I desire it may following extract from a letter to the same lady:be to his glory, and then it must be to my happiness." Oh pride! pride! it deceives with the subtlety of I thank God, that I have those amongst my kindred, a serpent, and seems to walk erect, though it crawls to whom I can write, without reserve, my sentiments upon the earth. How will it twist and twine itself on this subject. A letter upon any other subject is about to get from under the cross, which it is the more insipid to me than ever my task was, when a glory of our Christian calling to be able to bear school-boy. I say not this in vain-glory, God for- with patience and good will. Those who can guess bid! but to show what the Almighty, whose name I at the heart of a stranger, and you especially, who am unworthy to mention, has done for me, the chief are of a compassionate temper, will be more ready of sinners. Once he was a terror to me; and his to excuse me than I can be to excuse myself. But, service, oh, what a weariness it was! Now I can in good truth, I am too frequently guilty of the say I love him and his holy name, and am never so abominable vice. How should such a creature be happy as when I speak of his mercies to me." admitted into those pure and sinless mansions where nothing shall enter that defileth; did not the blood of Christ, applied by faith, take away the guilt of sin, and leave no spot or stain behind it! O what continual need have I of an almighty, all-sufficient Saviour! I am glad you are acquainted so particularly with all the circumstances of my story, for I know that your secrecy and discretion may be trusted with any thing. A thread of mercy ran through all the intricate maze of those afflictive providences, so mysterious to myself at the time, and which must ever remain so to all who will not see what was the great design of them; at the judgment-seat of Christ the whole shall be laid open. How is the rod of iron changed into a sceptre of love! To the same correspondent he again writes. "To find those whom I love, clearly and strongly persuaded of evangelical truth, gives me a pleasure superior to any this world can afford. Judge, then, whether your letter, in which the body and substance of saving faith is so evidently set forth, could meet with a lukewarm reception at my hands, or be entertained with indifference! Do not imagine that I shall ever hear from you upon this delightful theme, without real joy, or without prayer to God to prosper you in the way of his truth. 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 "I have so much cause for humility, and so much need of it too, and every little sneaking resentment is such an enemy to it, that I hope I shall never give quarter to any thing that appears in the shape of sullenness or self-consequence hereafter. Alas! if my best friend, who laid down his life for me, were to remember all the instances in which I have neglected him, and to plead them against me in judgment, where should I hide my guilty head in the day of recompense? I will pray therefore for blessings upon my friends though they cease to be so, and upon my enemies, though they continue such." Cowper had now been an inmate with the Unwin family a little more than eighteen months; and the above extracts, taken from his confidential letters, describe the happy frame of his mind, and the great progress he had made in divine knowledge, during this period. Living in the enjoyment of the divine presence himself, and associated with those who experienced the same invaluable privilege, he tranquilly pursued the even tenor of his Christian course with undiverted attention, and with holy zeal; nor did there appear the slightest reason to suppose that any alteration was likely to take place in his circumstances, or in the circumstances of the family. He might fairly have calculated upon the uninterrupted continuance, for many years, of the same distinguished privileges; but the dispensations of Divine Providence are sometimes awfully mysterious. Events unforeseen, and unexpected, are often occurring, which give a bias to our affairs quite different to any that we had ever conceived. Such was the melancholy occurrence which happened in this family, about this time, and which, at no distant period, led to Cowper's removal from Huntingdon. into their wounded spirits; and his providential visit proved as useful as it was seasonable. He invited them to fix their future abode at Olney, whither they repaired, in the following October, to a house he had provided for them, so near the vicarage in which he lived, that by opening a door in the garden wall, they could exchange mutual visits, without entering the street. Mrs. Unwin kept the house, and Cowper continued to board with her, as he had done during her husband's life. CHAPTER VI. Commencement of Cowper's intimacy with Mr. Newton. Pleasure it afforded him. His charitable disposition. Means provided for its indulgence, by the munificence of the late J. Thornton, Esq Mr. Thornton's death. Cowper's poetic tribute to his memory. Remarks on the insufficiency of earthly objects to afford peace to the mind. His great anxiety for the spiritual welfare of his correspondents. Consolatory remarks addressed to his cousin. Severe affliction of his brother. Cowper's great concern on his behalf. Happy change that takes place in his brother's sentiments on reli gious subjects. His death. Cowper's reflections on it. Deep im pression it made upon his mind. Description of his brother's cha racter. Engages with Mr. Newton to write the Olney Hymns Cowper's severe indisposition. Mr. Unwin, proceeding to his church, one Sunday morning in July, 1767, was flung from his horse, and received a dreadful fracture on the back part of his skull, under which he languished till the following Thursday, and then died. Cowper, in relating this melancholy event to his cousin, remarks: -"This awful dispensation has left an impression upon our spirits which will not presently be worn off. May it be a lesson to us to watch, since we know not the day, nor the hour, when our Lord GREAT as were the advantages enjoyed by Cowper, cometh! At nine o'clock last Sunday morning, Mr. while inmated with the Unwin family at HuntingUnwin was in perfect health, and as likely to live don, they were not to be compared with those which twenty years as either of us, and by the following he experienced in his new situation at Olney. He Thursday he was a corpse. The few short inter- spent his time nearly in the same manner as at vals of sense that were indulged him, he spent in Huntingdon, having the additional advantage of earnest prayer, and in expressions of a firm trust frequent religious intercourse with his friend, Mr. and confidence in the only Saviour. To that strong- Newton, with whom he was upon terms of the hold we must resort at last, if we would have hope closest intimacy. The amiable manners, and exin death; when every other refuge fails, we are emplary piety of Cowper, greatly endeared him to glad to fly to the only shelter to which we can re- all with whom he was acquainted. He gladly availpair to any purpose; and happy is it for us, when ed himself of the benefits of religious conversation the false ground we have chosen for ourselves, with the pious persons in Mr. Newton's congregabreaks under us, and we find ourselves obliged to tion, and was particularly attentive to those among have recourse to that Rock which can never be them, who were in circumstances of poverty. He shaken: when this is our lot, we receive great and regularly visited the sick, and, to the utmost extent undeserved mercy. of his power, afforded them relief. He attended the "The effect of this very distressing event will only social meetings for prayer established by Mr. Newbe a change of my abode; for I shall still, by God's ton; and at such seasons, when he was occasionally leave, continue with Mrs. Unwin, whose behavior required to conduct the service, agitated as were to me has always been that of a mother to a son. his feelings before he commenced, he no sooner beWe know not yet where we shall settle, but we gan, than he poured forth his heart unto God in trust that the Lord, whom we seek, will go before earnest intercession, with a devotion equally simple, us, and prepare a rest for us. We have employed sublime, and fervent, affording to all who were preour friends, Mr. Hawes, Dr. Conyers, and Mr. New-sent on these occasions proofs of the unusual comton, to look out a place for us, but at present are entirely ignorant under which of the three we shall settle, or whether under any one of them." bination of elevated genius, exquisite sensibility, and profound piety, by which he was pre-eminently distinguished. His conduct in private was consistent with the solemnity and fervor of these social devotional engagements. Three times a day he prayed, and gave thanks unto God, in retirement, besides the regular practice of domestic worship. His familiar acquaintance with, and experimental knowledge of the gospel, relieved him from all terror and anxiety of mind; his soul was stayed upon God; the divine promise and faithfulness were his support; and he lived in the enjoyment of perfect peace. Just after this melancholy event had occurred, and while the family were in the midst of their distress, Mr. Newton, then curate of Olney, while on his way home from Cambridge, providentially called upon Mrs. Unwin. The late Dr. Conyers had learned from Mr. Unwin's son, the change that had taken place in her mind, on the subject of religion; and he accordingly requested Mr. Newton to embrace the earliest opportunity of having some conversation with her on the subject. His visits could not possibly have been made at a more sea- His hymns, most of which were composed at this sonable juncture. Mrs. Unwin was now almost period, prove that he was no stranger to those coroverwhelmed with sorrow; and though the strength rupt dispositions, which the best of men have to of her Christian principles preserved her from bewail, and which have so strong a tendency to losing that confidence in the Almighty, which can draw away the mind from God. Against these disalone support the mind under such distressing cir-positions, however, he was constantly upon the cumstances, yet, both she and Mr. Cowper stood in need of some judicious Christian friend, to administer to them the consolations of the gospel. Their Heavenly Father could not have sent them one more capable of binding up their wounds, and soothing their sorrow, than Mr. Newton. He knew The first few years of his residence at Olney, when instrumentally, to pour the oil of consolation | may, perhaps, be regarded as the happiest of his watch, and by the cultivation of devotional habits, with the gracious aid of the Divine Spirit, he suppressed every irregular desire, restrained every corrupt inclination, and ultimately came off successful in his spiritual warfare. life. Associated intimately with his beloved friend, | The same vein of genuine and unaffected piety, Mr. Newton, and avalling himself of his valuable however, runs through those letters which he did assistance, in his efforts to acquire divine know-write, and they abound with remarks of uncommon ledge, his heart became established in the truth, excellence. To his cousin, Mrs. Cowper, he thus and he experienced that degree of confidence in expresses his feelings:-"You live in the centre of God, which alone can insure peace of mind, and a world, I know you do not delight in. Happy are real tranquillity. Aware of the pleasure which he you, my dear friend, in being able to discern the took in visiting the poor in his neighborhood, and insufficiency of all it can afford, to fill and satisfy contributing to their relief, Mr. Newton procured the desires of an immortal soul! That God, who for him, a liberal annual allowance of cash, for the created us for the enjoyment of himself, has deterpurpose of distribution, from the late excellent John mined in mercy that it shall fail us here, in order Thornton, Esq. It is almost needless to add, that that the blessed result of all our inquiries after hapbecoming the almoner of this distinguished philan- piness in the creature, may be a warm pursuit, and thropist, was to Cowper a source of the greatest a close attachment to our true interests, in fellowenjoyment. No individual was ever more alive to ship with him, through the mediation of our dear the cry of distress; he seemed, indeed, to possess Redeemer. I bless his goodness, and his grace, that almost an excess of this amiable sensibility. No- I have any reason to hope I am a partaker with you thing gladdened his heart more than to be the means in the desire after better things, than are to be found of drying up the widow's tears, and assuaging the in a world polluted by sin, and, therefore, devoted orphan's grief; which the liberality of this great to destruction. May he enable us both to consider philanthropist allowed him often to accomplish. our present life in its only true light, as an opporThe decease of Mr. Thornton took place in 1790, tunity put into our hands to glorify him amongst and Cowper has immortalized his memory, by the men, by a conduct suited to his word and will! I following beautiful and sublime eulogy:am miserably defective in this holy and blessed art, but I hope there is, at the bottom of all my sinful infirmities, a desire to live just so long as I may be enabled to answer, in some measure, at least, the end of my existence, in this respect; and then to obey the summons, and attend him in a world, where they who are his servants here, shall pay him an unsinful obedience for ever." "Thee, Thornton, worthy in some page to shine That privilege was thine; Heaven gave thee means, Nice in its choice, and of a temperate heat; seldom seven The lively interest which Cowper took, in the spiritual welfare of his correspondents, will appear in the following letter to his esteemed friend, Joseph Hill, Esq., dated 21st January, 1769:-" Dear Joe: I rejoice with you in your recovery, and that you have escaped from the hands of one, from whose hands you will not always escape. Death is either the most formidable, or most comfortable thing, we have in prospect, on this side of eternity. To be brought near to him, and to discern neither of these features in his face, would argue a degree of insensibility, of which I will not suspect my friend, whom I know to be a thinking man. You have been brought down to the sides of the grave, and you have been raised up again, by him who has the keys of the invisible world; who opens, and none can shut, who shuts and none can open. I do not forget to return thanks to him on your behalf, and to pray that your life, which he has spared, may be devoted to his service. 'Behold! I stand at the door, and knock,' is the word of him, on whom both our mortal and immortal life depend, and blessed be his name! it is the word of one who wounds only that he may heal, and who waits to be gracious. The language of every such dispensation is, 'Prepare to meet thy God.' It speaks with the voice of mercy and goodness; for, without such notices, whatever preparation we might make for other events, we should make none for this. My dear friend, I desire and pray, that when this last enemy shall come to execute an unlimited commission on us, we may be found ready, being established and rooted in a well-grounded faith in his name who conquered death, and triumphed over him on the cross. If I am ever enabled to look forward to death with comfort, which I thank God is sometimes the case, I do not take my view of it from the top of my own works and deservings, though God is witness, that the labor of my life is to keep a conscience void of offence towards him. Death is always formidable to me, but when I see him disarmed of his sting by having it sheathed in the body of Christ Jesus." To the same friend, on another occasion, he thus writes: "I take a friend's share in all your concerns, so far as they come to my knowledge, and consequently did not receive the news of your |