make an election. In the scripture we find a broad and clear exhibition of mercy: it is displayed in every page. Wrath is, in comparison, but slightly touched upon, because it is not so much a discovery of wrath as of forgiveness. But had the displeasure of God been the principal subject of the book, and had it circumstantially set forth that measure of it only which may be endured in this life, the Christian world would perhaps have been less comfortable; but I believe presumptuous meddlers with the gospel would have been less fre. quently met with."

To Mr. Unwin he thus writes:-"Take my word for it-the word of a man singularly qualified to give his evidence in this matter, who, having enjoyed the privilege some years, has been deprived of it more, and has no hope that he shall live to recover it-those that have found a God, and are permitted to worship him, have found a treasure, of which, highly as they may prize it, they have but very scanty and limited conceptions. These are my Sunday morning speculations—the sound of the bells suggested them, or rather gave them such an emphasis, that they force their way into my pen in spite of me; for though I do not often commit them to paper, they are never absent from my mind.".

"You express sorrow that your love of Christ was excited in you by a picture. Could the most insignificant thing suggest to me the thought that Christ is precious, I would not despise the thought. The meanness of the instrument cannot debase the nobleness of the principle. He that kneels to a picture of Christ is an idolater; but he in whose heart the sight of such a picture kindles a warm remembrance of the Saviour's suffering, must be a Christian. Suppose that I dream as Gardiner did, that Christ walks before me, that he turns and smiles upon me, and fills my soul with ineffable love and joy. Will a man tell me that I am deceived, that I ought not to love or rejoice in him for such a reason, because a dream is merely a picture drawn upon the imagination? I hold not with such divinity. To love Christ is the greatest dignity of man, be that affection wrought in him how it may."

No person ever formed more correct views of what really constitutes Christianity than Cowper, nor could any one ever feel a greater aversion to a mere profession of it. In a letter to one of his correspondents, the following remarks occur:"I say amen, with all my heart, to your observations on religious characters. Men who profess themselves adepts in

mathematical knowledge, in astronomy, or jurisprudence, are generally as well qualified as they would appear. The reason may be, that they are always liable to detection, should they attempt to impose upon mankind, and therefore take care to be what they pretend. In religion alone, a profession is often slightly taken up, and slovenly carried on, because forsooth, candor and charity require us to hope the best, and to judge favorably of our neighbor; and because it is easy to deceive the ignorant, who are a great majority, upon this subject. Let a man attach himself to a particular party, contend furiously for what are properly called evangelical doctrines, and enlist himself under the banner of some popular preacher, and the business is done. Behold a Christian! a saint! a phoenix! In the mean time perhaps his heart, his temper, and even his conduct, is unsanctified; possibly less exemplary than that of some avowed infidels. No matter, he can talk, he has the Bible in his pocket, and a head well stored with notions. But the quiet, humble, modest, and peaceable person, who is in his practice what the other is only in his profession, who hates a noise about religion, and therefore makes none, who, knowing the snares that are in the world, keeps himself as much out of it as he can, and never enters it but when duty calls, and even then with fear and trembling-is the Christian that will always stand highest in the estimation of those who bring all characters to the test of true wisdom, and judge of the tree by its fruits."

In another letter, on a similar subject, he thus writes:"It is indeed a melancholy consideration, that the gospel, whose direct tendency is to promote the happiness of mankind in the present as well as in the life to come, which so effectually answers the design of its author, whenever it is well understood and sincerely believed, should, through the ignorance, the bigotry, the superstition, of its professors, and the ambition of popes and princes, have produced incidentally so much mischief; only furnishing the world with a plausible pretext to worry each other, while they sanctified the worst cause with the specious pretext of zeal for the furtherance of the best. Angels descend from heaven to publish peace between man and his Maker-the Prince of Peace himself comes to confirm and establish it; and war, hatred, and desolation, are the consequence. Thousands quarrel about the interpretation of a book, which none of them understand. He that is slain, dies firmly persuaded that the crown of martyrdom awaits him; and he that slew him, is

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equally convinced that he has done God service. In reality they are both mistaken and equally unentitled to the honor they have arrogated to themselves. If a multitude of blind men should set out for a certain city, and dispute about the right road till a battle ensued between them, the probable effect would be that none of them would ever reach it: and such a fray, preposterous and shocking in the extreme, would exhibit a picture in some degree resembling the original of which we have been speaking. And why is not the world thus occupied at present? only because they have exchanged a zeal that was no better than madness, for an indifference equally pitiable and absurd. The holy sepulchre has lost its importance in the eyes of nations, called Christians, not because the light of true wisdom has delivered them from a superstitious attachment to the spot, but because he that was buried in it is no longer regarded by them as the Saviour of the world. The exercise of reason, enlightened by philosophy, has cured them indeed of the misery of an abused understanding, but together with the delusion they have lost the substance, and for the sake of the lies that were grafted upon it, have quarrelled with the truth itself. Here, then, we see the ne plus ultra of human wisdom, at least in affairs of religion. It enlightens the mind with respect to non-essentials, but with respect to that in which the essence of Christianity consists, leaves it perfectly in the dark. It can discover many errors that in different ages have disgraced the faith, but it is only to make way for one more fatal than them all, which represents that faith as a delusion. Why those evils have been permitted shall be known hereafter. One thing, in the mean time, is certain, that the folly and frenzy of the professed disciples of the gospel, have been more dangerous to its interests, than all the avowed hostilities of its adversaries, and perhaps for this cause these mischiefs might be suffered to prevail for a season, that its divine original and nature might be the more illustrated, when it should appear that it was able to stand its ground for ages, against that most formidable of all attacks—the indiscretion of its friends. The outrages that have followed this perversion of the truth, have proved, indeed, a stumbling-block to individuals: the wise of this world, with all their wisdom, have not been able to distinguish between the blessing and the abuse of it. Voltaire was offended, and Gibbon has turned his back, but the flock of Christ is still nourished, and still increases, notwithstanding the unbelief of a philosopher is able to convert bread into a stone, and fish into a serpent."

The following very serious reflections occur, in a letter to Mr. Newton, about this time, adverting to the sufferings of the poor at Olney, whose distressing circumstances on all occasions excited the tenderest sympathies of the poet :"The winter sets in with great severity. The rigor of the season, and the advanced price of provisions, are very threatening to the poor. It is well with those that can feed upon a promise, and wrap themselves up warm in the robe of salvation. A good fire-side and a well-spread table are but indifferent substitutes for these better accommodations; so very indifferent, that I would gladly exchange them both for the rags and the unsatisfied hunger of the poorest creature, that looks forward with the hope to a better world, and weeps tears of joy in the midst of penury and distress. What a world is this! How mysteriously governed, and, in appearance, left to itself! One man, having squandered thousands at a gaming-table, finds it convenient to travel; gives his estate to somebody to manage for him; amuses himself a few years in France and Italy; returns, perhaps, wiser than he went, having acquired knowledge, which, but for his follies, he would never have acquired; again makes a splendid figure at home, shines in the senate, governs his country as its minister, is admired for his abilities, and if successful, adored, at least by a party. When he dies he is praised as a demigod, and his monument records everything but his vices. The exact contrast of such a picture is to be found in many cottages at Olney. I have no need to describe them, you know the characters I mean: they love God, they trust him, they pray to him in secret, and though he means to reward them openly, the day of recompense is delayed. In the mean time they suffer everything that infirmity and poverty can inflict upon them. Who would suspect, that has not a spiritual eye to discern it, that the fine gentleman might possibly be one whom his Maker had in abhorrence, and the wretch last mentioned dear to him as the apple of his eye? It is no wonder that the world, who only look at things as they are connected with the present life, find themselves obliged, some of them at least, to doubt a providence, and others absolutely to deny it; when almost all the real virtue there is to be found in it, exists in a state of neglected obscurity, and all the vices cannot exclude them from the privileges of worship and honor. But behind the curtain the mat ter will be explained; very little, however, to the satisfaction of the great.

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CHAPTER X.

Publication of Cowper's second volume of poems-Manner in which it was received by the public-His feelings on the occasion-Great self. abasement-Renewal of his correspondence with Lady Hesketh-Acceptance of her proffered assistance-Her projected visit to OlneyCowper's pleasing anticipations of its results-Her arrival-Cowper's removal from Olney to Weston-His intimacy with the Throckmortons -Happiness it afforded him.

COWPER's second volume of poems, the publication of which had been delayed much longer than was expected, appeared, at length, in the summer of 1785. His first volume, though it had not met with that success which might have been expected, had nevertheless been extensively circulated, and was spoken of highly by some of the first literary characters of the age. It had. therefore, raised the expectations of the public, and had thus made way for its successor, which no sooner made its appearance than it was eagerly sought after, and met with a rapid and extensive sale. High as had been the expectations of his friends, they fell far short of what he had accomplished in that brilliant display of real poetical talent everywhere to be found in the Task. The singularity of the title made its first appearance somewhat repulsive: its various and matchless beauties were, however, soon discovered, and it speedily raised the reputation of Cowper to the highest summit of poetic genius, and placed him among the first class of poets.

In a letter to Mr. Newton, he describes his feelings on this occasion in such a manner as proves him to have been influenced by nothing like selfish or ambitious motives; but by principles far more noble and exalted:-"I found your account of what you experienced in your state of maiden authorship very entertaining, because very natural. I suppose no man ever made his first sally from the press without a conviction that all eyes and ears would be engaged to attend him, at least without a thousand anxieties lest they should not. But, however arduous and interesting such an enter prise may be in the first instance, it seems to me that our