was intended to convey: "I have sent him the truth, and the truth which I know he is ignorant of." When this letter was published by Hayley, this pointed declaration, which might possibly have awakened some salutary anxiety, was omitted for fear of giving offence, because Thurlow was still living! The description of character in the poem was also suppressed, but the following beautiful conclusion was printed, containing a picture, drawn from life, of Cowper's happiness in the treasures of friendship God had given him :—

"Votaries of business and of pleasure prove
Faithless alike in friendship and in love;
Retired from all the circles of the gay,
And all the crowds that bustle life away,
To scenes where competition, envy, strife,
Beget no thunder-clouds to trouble life.
Let me the charge of some good angel find,
One who has known and has escaped mankind,
Polite, yet virtuous, who has brought away
The manners, not the morals, of the day.
With him, perhaps with her (for men have known
No firmer friendships than the fair have shewn),
Let me enjoy, in some unthought of spot,

All former friends forgiven and forgot,
Down to the close of life's fast fading scene,
Union of hearts, without a flaw between.
'Tis grace, 'tis bounty, and it calls for praise,
If God give health, that sunshine of our days;
And if He add-a blessing shared by few—
Content of heart, more praises still are due.
But if He grant a friend, that boon possess'd
Indeed is treasure, and crowns all the rest.
And giving one whose heart is in the skies,
Born from above, and made divinely wise,
He gives what bankrupt Nature never can,
Whose noblest coin is light and brittle man,
Gold, purer far than Ophir ever knew,

A soul, an image of Himself, and therefore true.'

140

COWPER'S SATIRE.

CHAPTER XV.

Power of Cowper's satire-Its Christian character and purpose-Power and beauty of thought in the poem of "Truth"-Sublimity of "The Expostulation"-Cowper's abhorrence of slavery.

FOR every one of the subjects in this volume, Cowper had been richly prepared, both by his spiritual discipline, and his education in the schools and in society. The power of vigorous and caustic satire was never more admirably combined with affectionate feeling, an enlarged and comprehensive sympathy, generous and kindly wit and humour, a fervent love of the truth, and hatred of all hypocrisy. With his native amiable disposition and unaffected Christian charity, it was impossible for Cowper to be bitter against anything but meanness, malignity, profane bigotry, and proud and fashionable sin. One would hardly have expected from this retired and shy observer, in that deep seclusion from which he looked forth through the loopholes of his retreat, upon the Babel of this world, so keen a discernment and so graphic and faithful a portraiture of its manners and its life, its follies and its woes. The keenness of Cowper's satire is not bitterness, not acrimony, but truth, and the just severity of Christian truth and love, against obstinate error, iniquity, pretension, and pride. Here is the burning and unsparing pungency of Juvenal,

along with a genial, gentle playfulness and Christian. tenderness, of which the Roman satirist knew nothing. Cowper's satire is spontaneous, not artificial, not the ambition of severity, but as natural and playful as the humour in "John Gilpin," and, therefore, it is at once the most telling and effective, and at the same time the most interesting and attractive in the language. It is exceedingly seldom that satire so powerful is so penetrated with the spirit of good-nature and of love; and that a native faculty, so fitted and disposed for shrewd and biting notice and remark, is found so imbued with grace and gentleness.

But Cowper could pour out his whole soul in sacred invective and indignant rebuke of all forms of sacrilege and impiety, and could impress, in verse, all compact with thought and earnestness, the sanctifying and beloved themes of the gospel that inspired his heart. There was neither hesitation nor shrinking here, no disguise nor mitigation, no qualifying nor softening of the truth; but with the utmost plainness and point it was applied to the heart and conscience. With a dignity and power above all mere rhetoric, with a simplicity and terseness of speech that did not admit the possibility of being misunderstood, he presented in his poem on "Truth," the much-abused and derided doctrine of justification by faith in an atoning Saviour. With what unexpected power and pungency, and, at the same time, beauty, does that admirable poem open!

"Man, on the dubious waves of error toss'd,

His ship half founder'd, and his compass lost,
Sees, far as human optics may command,
A sleeping fog, and fancies it dry land;
Spreads all his canvas, every sinew plies;
Pants for it, aims at it, enters it, and dies!

142

PUNGENCY OF TRUTH.

Then farewell all self-satisfying schemes,
His well-built systems, philosophic dreams;
Deceitful views of future bliss, farewell!
He reads his sentence at the flames of hell.
"Hard lot of man-to toil for the reward

Of virtue, and yet lose it! Wherefore hard?
He that would win the race must guide his horse
Obedient to the customs of the course;

Else, though unequall'd to the goal he flies,

A meaner than himself shall gain the prize.

Grace leads the right way: if you choose the wrong,
Take it, and perish; but restrain your tongue;
Charge not, with light sufficient, and left free,
Your wilful suicide on God's decree."

With what convincing clearness of argument and beauty of illustration does he shew the worthlessness of all hope but that which, as an anchor to the soul, sure and steadfast, is cast within the vail. Every confidence of heaven is dismissed as imaginary and vain, whatever sect may rear, protect, and nourish it,

"If wild in nature, and not duly found,
Gethsemane, in thy dear hallow'd ground!"

The passage beginning, "Who judged the Pharisee?" is a masterly comparison and inquisition of different forms of self-righteousness; and how beautiful the picture of the humble believing cottager, with her pillow, bobbins, and Bible, in contrast with the demigod of Parisian applause, jesting at Scripture, exalted on his pedestal of pride, and to the last lured by his vanity to believe a lie, till the fumes of frankincense from his flatterers mingled with the smoke that received him in the bottomless pit! Never were the fatal elements of a morality founded in selfishness and pride demonstrated in more direct and convincing analysis and light, than in this poem. And never

with more attractive and subduing truth was the contrast drawn between such motives and the gratitude and love of the penitent believing heart, resting only on Christ.

The poem entitled "Expostulation," is one of the highest and grandest exhibitions of Cowper's genius, unrivalled by any passages even in "The Task." From the first word in the opening line to the closing word in the last line, it is all fervid, glowing, and sublime, as if, like Dryden's Ode, it had been the composition of a single night, as if the subject had possessed him and carried him irresistibly away, instead of receiving the calm and careful application of his mind, day by day, and that, too, under the burden of nameless spiritual misery. It is a most extraordinary phenomenon, considering the known condition of the writer. It presents a career like Elijah's in the chariot of flame, yet the man is walking on earth, under clouds and darkness. With most impressive sublimity Cowper reviewed the history of Judea and of England, and, as if burning with the prophetic fire of an old inspired Hebrew, applied the lessons of rebuke and warning to his country's sins. With what beauty and power does he proclaim the certainty of retribution upon an unthankful, scornful land, asserting the only grounds of national security and prosperity, dependence upon God and obedience to His Word. The scathing lines applied to the formalism and hypocrisy of the Established Church, are as truthful and terrible now as ever.

"When nations are to perish in their sins,

'Tis in the Church the leprosy begins."

Solemn and pungent are the questions with which the poet bids his country stand and judge herself as having