able to discern the insufficiency of all it can afford, to fill and satisfy the desires of an immortal soul. That God, who created us for the enjoyment of himself, has determined in mercy that it shall fail us here, in order that the blessed result of all our enquiries after happiness in the creature, may be a warm pursuit, and a close attachment, to our true interests, in fellowship and communion with Him, through the name and mediation of a dear Redeemer. I bless his goodness, and grace, that I have any reason to hope I am a partaker with you in the desire after better things, than are to be found in a world polluted with sin, and therefore devoted to destruction. May he enable us both to consider our present life in its only true light, as an opportunity put into our hands to glorify him amongst men, by a conduct suited to his word and will. I am miserably defective in this holy and blessed art, but I hope there is at the bottom of all my sinful infirmities, a sincere desire to live just so long as I may be enabled, in some poor measure, to answer 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. Your dear Mother is too good to me, and puts a .

more charitable construction upon my silence than the fact will warrant. I am not better employed than I should be in corresponding with her. I have that within, which hinders me wretchedly, in every thing that I ought to do, but is prone to trifle, and let time, and every good thing run to waste. I hope however to write to her soon.

My love, and best wishes, attend Mr. Cowper, and all that enquire after me. May God be with you, to bless you, and do you good, by all his dispensations; don't forget me when you are speaking to our best Friend before his Mercy-seat.

Yours ever,

W. C.

N. B. I am not married.

In the year 1769, the lady to whom the pre

ceeding Letters are addressed, was involved in domestic affliction, and the following, which the poet wrote to her on the occasion, is so full of genuine piety, and true pathos, that it would be an injury to his memory to suppress it.

LETTER XXX.

To Mrs. COWPER.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

Olney, Aug. 31, 1769.

A Letter from your Brother Frederic brought me yesterday the most afflicting intelligence, that has reached me these many years. I pray to God to comfort you, and to enable you to sustain this heavy stroke with that resignation to his will, which none but Himself can give, and which he gives to none but his own children. How blessed and happy is your lot, my dear friend, beyond the common lot of the greater part of mankind; that you know what it is to draw near to God in prayer, and are acquainted wih a Throne of Grace! You have resources in the infinite love of a dear Redeemer, which are withheld from millions: and the promises of God, which are yea and amen in Jesus, are sufficient to answer all your necessities, and to sweeten the bitterest cup, which your heavenly Father will ever put into your hand. May He now give you liberty to drink at these wells of salvation, till you are filled with consolation and peace, in the midst of trouble. He has said, when thou passest

through the fire, I will be with thee, and when through the floods, they shall not overflow thee. You have need of such a word as this, and he knows your need of it, and the time of necessity is the time, when he will be sure to appear in behalf of those, who trust in him. I bear you and yours upon my heart before him, night and day, for I never expect to hear of distress, which shall call upon me with a louder voice, to pray for the sufferer. I know the Lord hears me for myself, vile and sinful as I am, and believe, and am sure, that he will hear me for you also. He is the friend of the widow, and the father of the fatherless, even God in his holy habitation; in all our afflictions he is afflicted, and chastens us in mercy. Surely he will sanctify this dispensation to you, do you great and everlasting good by it, make the world appear like dust, and vanity in your sight, as it truly is, and open to your view the glories of a better country, where there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor pain; but God shall wipe away all tears from your eyes your eyes for ever. Oh that comforta

ble word!

.

"I have chosen thee in the furnaces of

affliction;" so that our very sorrows are evidences of our calling, and he chastens us, because we are his children.

My dear Cousin, I commit you to the word of his Grace, and to the comforts of his holy Spirit. Your life is needful for your family, may God, in mercy to them, prolong it, and may he preserve you from the dangerous effects which a stroke like this, might have upon a frame so tender as yours. I grieve with you, I pray for you, could I do more, I would, but God must comfort you.

Yours, in our dear Lord Jesus,

W. C.

In the following year, the tender feelings of Cowper were called forth by family affliction, that pressed more immediately on himself; he was hurried to Cambridge by the dangerous illness of his Brother, then residing as a fellow in Bennet college -an affection truly fraternal had ever subsisted between the brothers, and the reader will recollect what the poet has said, in one of his Letters, concerning their social intercourse, while he resided at Huntingdon.

In the two first years of his residence at Olney, he had been repeatedly visited by Mr. John Cowper,