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done. I never met with a man, who understood the plan of salvation better, or was more happy in explaining it.

LETTER XXIV.

W. C.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

To Mrs. COWPER.

Huntingdon, April 3, 1767.

You sent my friend Unwin

home to us, charmed with your kind reception of him, and with every thing he saw at the Park. Shall I once more give you a peep into my vile and deceitful heart? What motive do you think lay at the bottom of my conduct, when I desired him to call upon you? I did not suspect, at first, that pride and vain glory had any share in it, but quickly after I had recommended the visit to him, I discovered, in that fruitful soil, the very root of the matter.

You know

I am a stranger here; all such are suspected characters; unless they bring their credentials with them. To this moment, I believe, it is matter of speculation in the place, whence I came, and to whom I belong.

Though my friend, you may suppose, before I

was admitted an inmate here, was satisfied that I was not a mere vagabond, and has, since that time, received more convincing proofs of my sponsibility, yet I could not resist the opportunity of furnishing him with ocular demonstration of it, by introducing him to one of my most splendid connexions; that when he hears me called, "That fellow Cowper," which has happened heretofore, he may be able, upon unquestionable evidence, to assert my gentlemanhood, and relieve me from the weight of that opprobrious appellation. Oh Pride! Pride! it deceives with the subtelty of a serpent, and seems to walk erect, though it crawls upon the earth. How will it twist and twine itself about, to get from under the Cross, which it is the glory of our Christian calling to be able to bear with patience and good will. They who can guess at the heart of a stranger, and you especially, who are of a compassionate temper, will be more ready, perhaps, to excuse me, in this instance, than I can be to excuse myself. But, in good truth, it was abominable pride of heart, indignation, and vanity, and deserves no better name. How should such a creature be admitted into those pure and sinless mansions, where nothing shall enter that defileth, did not the blood of Christ, applied by the hand of faith, take

away the guilt of sin, and leave no spot or stain behind it. Oh 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 providencies, 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!

I thank you for the seeds; I have committed some of each sort to the ground, whence they will spring up like so many mementos to remind me of my friends at the Park.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

W. C.

LETTER XXV.

To Mrs. COWPER.

Huntingdon, July 13, 1767.

The news-paper has told you

the truth. Poor Mr. Unwin being flung from his

horse, as he was going to his church on Sunday morning, received a dreadful fracture on the back part of the scull, under which he languished till Thursday evening, and then died. This awful dispensation has left an impression upon our spirits, which will not presently be worn off. He died in a poor cottage, to which he was carried immediately after his fall, about a mile from home, and his body could not be brought to his house, till the spirit was gone to him, who gave it. May it be a lesson to us to watch, since we know not the day, nor the hour, when our Lord cometh.

The effect of it upon my circumstances will only be a change of the place of my abode. For I shall still, by God's leave, continue with Mrs. Unwin, whose behaviour to me, has always been that of a mother to a son. We know not yet where we shall settle, but we trust, that the Lord whom we seek, will go before us, and prepare a rest for us. We have employed our friend Haweis, Dr. Conyers of Helmsley, in Yorkshire, and Mr. Newton of Olney, to look out a place for us, but at present are entirely ignorant under which of the three we shall settle, or whether under either. I have written to my Aunt Madan, to

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desire Martin to assist us with his inquiries. It is probable we shall stay here till Michaelmas.

DEAR JOE,

LETTER XXVI.

To JOSEPH HILL, Esqr.

W. C.

July 16, 1767.

Your wishes that the news

paper may have misinformed you, are vain. Mr. Unwin is dead, and died in the manner there mentioned. At nine o'clock on Sunday morning he was in perfect health, and as likely to live twenty years as either of us, and before ten was stretched speechless and senseless upon a flock bed, in a poor cottage, where (it being impossible to remove him) he died on Thursday evening. I heard his dying groans, the effect of great agony, for he was a strong man, and much convulsed in his last moments. The few short intervals of sense, that were indulged him, he spent in earnest prayer, and in expressions of a firm trust, and confidence in the only Saviour. To that strong hold we must all resort at last. if we would have hope in our death; when every other refuge fails,

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