from any further observations of a similar kind, clearly proved that, though it was on the eve of being invested with angelic light, the darkness of delusion still veiled his spirit." He died as calmly as a sleeping infant, on the afternoon of the 25th of April 1800; and from that moment the expression into which the countenance settled was observed by his loving relative "to be that of calmness and composure, mingled, as it were, with holy surprise;" and he regarded this as an index of the last thoughts and enjoyments of his soul, in its gradual escape from the depths of that inscrutable despair in which it had been so long shrouded. 330 WORDS OF DEPARTED POETS. CHAPTER XXX. Missionary speech by Dr Duff-Sphere of Cowper's usefulness-Cowper's own review of his early life-Providence and grace in it-Cowper's admirable criticisms-Hymns for the parish clerk-Advice in regard to study. Ir is a sweet thing to behold how the words of poets passed into the skies, become the resort of Christian hearts for the utterance of their deepest and holiest feelings. This is the case, above all others, with the poetry of Watts and Cowper. How many souls have they been permitted to accompany, and even to persuade and allure to the mercyseat, and to interpret the breathings of how many hearts, in their nearest approaches to God on earth, and on the solemn verge of death, and almost in their very entrance to heaven! And yet, through how much suffering, in the instance of Cowper's genius, was this great privilege accorded! And with what ineffable delight must such beatified minds look down from amid their part in the anthems of heaven, to behold assemblages of saints on earth adoring and praising God through the instrumentality of their compositions! We thought of Cowper, and his earthly gloom and desolation, and his rapture in the world of light and glory, on occasion of one of those vast and crowded gatherings, when the missionary Dr Duff MISSIONARY CLIMAX. 331 poured forth the fervour of his Christian eloquence. At the close of one of his last speeches in America, on occasion of the meeting of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, his mind had been wrought up to such a point of excited feeling, and climacteric agglomeration of thought, sentences, and images, that by the very law of evolution he was forced to go higher and higher with each successive sentence, till an almost painful feeling of wonder and anxiety was produced in almost every mind -how can he end? how can he close how descend from such an elevation, or how continue his soaring? There was but one page in one poem in the world that could have given him the means, and that was in the sixth book of "The Task ;" and it was as if Cowper himself, as a guardian angel, had borne him on his wings, and lighted with him from his transcendent flight. He closed his thrilling address, and its unrivalled climax, with those magnificent lines "One song employs all nations, and all cry, Earth rolls the rapturous Hosannah round!" If our recollection does not mislead us, we believe the speaker repeated the last line three times, swinging his long arm at each exulting repetition, with an accompanying sweep of grandeur— "Earth rolls the rapturous Hosannah round! 332 COWPER'S MINISTRY. The effect was sublime, overwhelming, and it seemed as if the vast audience would break forth into the same shout simultaneously! At one time, Cowper was seriously questioning whether he ought not to devote himself to the ministry of the gospel; but the case was soon made perfectly plain to his own mind, as indeed it was afterwards to all. His sphere of labour and of usefulness had been determined by Divine Providence, and the ruin of all his own schemes, was just a necessary part of that discipline by which God would prepare him for the dominion he was to hold, by his genius and piety, in men's minds and affections. It was a much wider dominion than he ever could have gained in sacred orders; a dominion over the Church which indeed he could never have obtained as a minister in and of the Church. He knew this, and sometimes playfully intimated as much to Lady Hesketh, as when he heard from her that a certain duchess was interesting herself in his behalf. the world," exclaims he, "set the Duchess of But if all the duchesses in the world were spinning, like so many whirligigs, for my benefit, I would not stop them. It is a noble thing to be a poet, it makes all the world so lively. I might have preached more sermons than even Tillotson did, and better, and the world would have been still fast asleep; but a volume of verse is a fiddle that puts the universe in motion." "Who in a-going? Cowper sometimes thought it was his over-sensitive shyness that ruined him, in preventing him from succeeding at the bar. He sympathised much with his young friends, Johnson and Rose, when he saw in them something of the same awkward timidity. The advice he gave them both was excellent, especially to Rose. "I pitied you," says he, "for the fears which deprived you of your uncle's company, and the more for having suffered so much by those fears myself. Fight against that vicious fear, for such it is, as strenuously as you can. It is the worst enemy that can attack a man destined to the forum ;-it ruined me. To associate as much as possible with the most respectable company for good sense and good breeding, is, I believe, the only, at least I am sure it is the best remedy. The society of men of pleasure will not cure it, but rather leaves us more exposed to its influence in company of better persons." The ruin of Cowper as a lawyer, politician, and man of the world, was the making of him as a poet and a useful being, but only by the intervention of Divine grace. Without this, he would have been ruined indeed. And in a beautiful letter he commends the same dear young friend for his diligence in the study of the law. "You do well, my dear sir, to improve your opportunity; to speak in a rural phrase, this is your sowing-time, and the sheaves you look for can never be yours, unless you make that use of it. The colour of our whole life is generally such as the three or four first years in which we are our own masters, make it. Then it is that we may be said to shape our own destiny, and to treasure up for ourselves a series of future successes or disappointments. Had I employed my time as wisely as you, in a situation very similar to yours, I had never been a poet perhaps, but I might by this time have ac uired a character of more importance in society, and a situation in which my friends would have been better pleased to see me. But three years misspent in an at |