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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 to gether 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.'

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 surrender up to him that life which I have twice received from him. Whether I live or die, I desire it may be to his glory, and then it must be to my happiness. I thank God, that I have those amongst my kindred, to whom I can write, without reserve, my sentiments on this subject. A letter upon any other subject is more insipid to me than ever my task was, when a school-boy. I say not this in vain-glory, God forbid! but to show what the Almighty, whose name I am unworthy to mention, has done for me, the chief of sinners. Once he was a terror to me; and his service, oh, what a weariness it was! Now I can say I love him and his holy name, and am never so happy as when I speak of his mercies to me."

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

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, Í 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."

But,

That Cowper inspected very closely, and watched very narrowly his own heart, will appear by the following extract from a letter to the same lady:"Oh pride! pride! it deceives with the subtlety 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. Those who can guess at the heart of a stranger, and you especially, who are of a compassionate temper, will be more ready to excuse me than I can be to excuse myself. in good truth, I am too frequently guilty of the abominable vice. 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 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!

"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 judg ment, 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

into their wounded spirits; and his providential
visit proved as useful as it was seasonable. He in-
vited 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 gar-
den wall, they could exchange mutual visits, with-
out entering the street. Mrs. Unwin kept the house,
and Cowper continued to board with her, as he had

experienced the same invaluable privilege, he tran-
quilly 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 mys-done during her husband's life.
terious. 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 hap-
pened in this family, about this time, and which, at
no distant period, led to Cowper's removal from
Huntingdon.

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 cometh! At nine o'clock last Sunday morning, Mr. Unwin was in perfect health, and as likely to live twenty years as either of us, and by the following Thursday he was a corpse. 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 stronghold we must resort at last, if we would have hope in death; when every other refuge fails, we are glad to fly to the only shelter to which we can repair to any purpose; and happy is it for us, when the false ground we have chosen for ourselves, breaks under us, and we find ourselves obliged to have recourse to that Rock which can never be shaken: when this is our lot, we receive great and undeserved mercy.

"The effect of this very distressing event will only be a change of my abode; for I shall still, by God's leave, continue with Mrs. Unwin, whose behavior 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 friends, Mr. Hawes, Dr. Conyers, and Mr. Newton, 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."

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 seasonable juncture. Mrs. Unwin was now almost overwhelmed with sorrow; and though the strength of her Christian principles preserved her from losing that confidence in the Almighty, which can alone support the mind under such distressing circumstances, 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 when instrumentally, to pour the oil of consolation

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.

GREAT as were the advantages enjoyed by Cowper, while inmated with the Unwin family at Huntingdon, they were not to be compared with those which he experienced in his new situation at Olney. He spent his time nearly in the same manner as at Huntingdon, having the additional advantage of frequent religious intercourse with his friend, Mr. Newton, with whom he was upon terms of the closest intimacy. The amiable manners, and exemplary piety of Cowper, greatly endeared him to all with whom he was acquainted. He gladly availed himself of the benefits of religious conversation with the pious persons in Mr. Newton's congregation, and was particularly attentive to those among them, who were in circumstances of poverty. He regularly visited the sick, and, to the utmost extent of his power, afforded them relief. He attended the social meetings for prayer established by Mr. Newton; and at such seasons, when he was occasionally required to conduct the service, agitated as were his feelings before he commenced, he no sooner began, than he poured forth his heart unto God in earnest intercession, with a devotion equally simple, sublime, and fervent, affording to all who were present on these occasions proofs of the unusual combination 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.

His hymns, most of which were composed at this period, prove that he was no stranger to those corrupt dispositions, which the best of men have to bewail, and which have so strong a tendency to draw away the mind from God. Against these dispositions, however, he was constantly upon the 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.

The first few years of his residence at Olney, may, perhaps, be regarded as the happiest of his

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life. Associated intimately with his beloved friend, | The same vein of genuine and unaffected piety, Mr. Newton, and availing 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
As honest, and more eloquent than mine,
I mourn; or, since thrice happy thou must be,
The world, no longer thy abode, not thee:
Thee to deplore were grief misspent indeed;
It were to weep that goodness has its meed
That there is bliss prepared in yonder sky,
And glory for the virtuous when they die.
What pleasure can the miser's fondled hoard,
Or spendthrift's prodigal excess afford,
Sweet as the privilege of healing wo,
Suffered by virtue, combating below?
That privilege was thine; Heaven gave thee means,
To illumine with delight the saddest scenes,
Till thy appearance chased the gloom, forlorn
As midnight, and despairing of a morn.
Thou hadst an industry in doing good,
Restless as his who toils and sweats for food;
Avarice in thee was the desire of wealth,
By rust unperishable, or by stealth;
And if the genuine worth of gold depend
On application to its noblest end,

Thine had a value in the scales of Heaven,
Surpassing all that mine or mint has given;
And though God made thee of a nature prone
To distribution, boundless, of thy own,
And still, by motives of religious force,
Impelled thee more to that heroic course,
Yet was thy liberality discreet,

Nice in its choice, and of a temperate heat;
And, though an act unwearied, secret still
As, in some solitude, the summer rill
Refreshes, where it winds, the faded green,
And cheers the drooping flowers, unheard, unseen.
Such was thy charity; no sudden start,
After long sleep, of passion in the heart;
But steadfast principle, and in its kind
Of close alliance with the eternal mind,
Traced easily to its true source above,
To Him whose works bespeak his nature, love.
Thy bounties all were Christian, and I make
This record of thee for the gospel's sake,
That the incredulous themselves may see
Its use and power exemplified in thee."
Owing to some cause, for which we are unable to
account, Cowper's correspondence with his friends
became much less frequent after his settlement |
at Olney, than it had been formerly: probably it
might be attributed, in some degree at least, to
his close intimacy with Mr. Newton, for they were
seldom seven waking hours apart from each other.

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 con cerns, so far as they come to my knowledge, and consequently did not receive the news of your

marriage with indifference. I wish you and your | led to his removal to St. Alban's, his brother had bride all the happiness that belongs to the state; and the still greater felicity of that state which marriage is only a type of. All those connections shall be dissolved; but there is an indissoluble bond between Christ and his church, the subject of derision to an unthinking. world, but the glory and happiness of all his people."

watched over him with the tenderest solicitude; and it was doubtless owing, in a great degree, to this tenderness, that Cowper was placed under the care of Dr. Cotton. While he remained at St. Alban's, his brother visited him, and, as has been related above, became the means of contributing materially to his recovery. On Cowper's removal to Huntingdon, these affectionate brothers adopted a plan for a frequent and regular interchange of visits, so that they were seldom many days without seeing each other, though the distance between their places of abode was fifteen miles; and, even after Cowper's removal to Olney, his brother, during the first two years, paid him several visits; they seemed, indeed, mutually delighted with an opportunity of being in each other's company.

No one knew better how to administer consolation to those who were in distress, and certainly no one ever took a greater delight in doing it than Cowper. To his amiable cousin, Mrs. Cowper, who had been called to sustain a severe domestic affliction, he writes as follows:-"A letter from your brother, brought me yesterday the most afflicting intelligence that has reached me these many years; I pray God to comfort you, and to enable you to sustain this heavy stroke with that resignation to his will, which Cowper, on hearing of his brother's illness, imnone but himself can give, and which he gives to mediately repaired to Cambridge. To his inexpresnone but his own children. How blessed and happy sible grief he found him in a condition that left little is your lot, my dear friend, beyond the lot of the or no hopes of his recovery. In a letter to Mrs. greater part of mankind: that you know what it is Cowper, he thus describes his case:-"My brother to draw near to God in prayer, and are acquainted contínues much as he was. His case is a very with a throne of grace! You have resources in the dangerous one-an imposthume of the liver, attendinfinite love of a dear Redeemer, which are with- ed by an asthma and dropsy. The physician has held from millions: and the promises of God, which little hopes of his recovery; indeed I might say are yea and amen in Christ Jesus, are sufficient to none at all, only, being a friend, he does not formanswer all your necessities, and to sweeten the bit-ally give him over by ceasing to visit him, lest it terest cup which our Heavenly Father will ever put should sink his spirits. For my own part, I have no into your hand. May he now give you liberty to expectation of it, except by a signal interposition of drink at these wells of salvation till you are filled Providence in answer to prayer. His case is clearly with consolation and peace, in the midst of trouble. out of the reach of medicine, but I have seen many He has said, When thou passeth through the fire, I a sickness healed, where the danger has been equally will be with thee, and when through the floods, they threatening, by the only Physician of value. I shall not overflow thee. You have need of such a doubt not he will have an interest in your prayers, word as this, and he knows your need of it; and as he has in the prayers of many. May the Lord the time of necessity is the time when he will be incline his ear, and give an answer of peace. I sure to appear in behalf of those who trust in him. know it is good to be afflicted; I trust you have I bear you and yours upon my heart before him, found it so, and that under the teaching of the night and day. For I never expect to hear of dis- Spirit of God, we shall both be purified. It is the tress, which shall call upon me with a louder voice desire of my soul to seek a better country, where to pray for the sufferer. I know the Lord hears me God shall wipe away all tears from the eyes of his for myself, vile and sinful as I am, and believe, and people, and where, looking back upon the ways by am sure, that he will hear me for you also. He is which he has led us, we shall be filled with everthe friend of the widow, and the father of the fa- lasting wonder, love, and praise." therless, even God in his holy habitation; in all our afflictions, he is afflicted; and when he chastens us, it is 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 for ever. O that comfortable word! I have chosen thee in the furnace 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 for you, I pray for you; could I do more I would, but God must comfort you."

Cowper had scarcely forwarded this consolatory and truly Christian letter, when he was himself visited with a trial so severe as to call into exercise all that confidence in the Almighty which he had endeavored to excite in the mind of his amiable relative. He received a letter from his brother, then residing as a Fellow in Bene't. College, Cambridge, between whom and himself there had always existed an affection truly fraternal, stating that he was seriously indisposed. No brothers were ever more warmly interested in each other's welfare. At the commencement of Cowper's affliction, which

Finding his brother on the verge of the grave, Cowper discovered the greatest anxiety respecting his everlasting welfare. He knew that his sentiments on some of the most important truths of religion had been long unsettled; and fully aware that while such was the case, he could experience no solid enjoyment in the present life, whatever might be his condition in future, he labored diligently to give him those views of the gospel which he had himself found so singularly beneficial; nor did he labor in vain. He had the unspeakable gratification to witness the complete triumph of the truth, and its consolatory influence upon the mind of his beloved brother, in his dying moments. Writing to Mr. Hill, he says:-"It pleased God to cut short my brother's connections and expectations here, yet, not without giving him lively and glorious views of a better happiness, than any he could propose to himself in such a world as this. Notwithstanding his great learning, (for he was one of the chief men in the University in that respect,) he was candid and sincere in his inquiries after truth. Though he could not agree to my sentiments when I first acquainted him with them, nor in many conversations which I afterwards had with him upon the subject, could he be brought to acquiesce in them as scriptural and true, yet I had no sooner left St. Alban's, than he began to study with the deepest attention those points on which we differed, and to furnish himself with the best writers upon them. His mind was kept open to conviction for five years, during all which time he labored in this pursuit with un

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