of Divine grace upon the human soul. The gospel had come home to him, not in word only, but in demonstration of the Spirit, and in power. He not only possessed a comprehensive knowledge of the Christian system, which enabled him, whenever he had occasion for it, to describe and illustrate, with all the force and beauty of poetic enchantment, that solid foundation on which the Christian builds his hopes, but he had himself felt the astonishing efficacy of these truths on the heart, when truly and cordially received. This accounts for the unrivalled felicity with which he describes the happy influence of Christianity in all cases where it is rightly embraced, unless, as in his own case, its influence be prevented by some unaccountable bodily distemper. Treating the great peculiarities of the Christian system-the depravity of man the necessity of regeneration-the efficacy of the atonement access to God, through the Divine Spirit-justification by faith, with others of a like kind, not merely as subjects of inquiry, but as things which had been to him matters of actual experience, it is no wonder that his muse sometimes carried him to a depth of Christian feeling, unsung, and even unattempted before. As he himself, in his poem on Charity, beautifully sings

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"When one that holds communion with the skies
Has fill'd his urn, where these pure waters rise,
And once more mingles with us meaner things,
'Tis e'n as if an angel shook his wings;
Immortal fragrance fills the circuit wide,

That tells us whence his treasures are supplied."

Cowper," as Mr. Hayley justly observes," accomplished, as a poet, the sublimest object of poetic ambition,-he has dissipated the general prejudice that held it hardly possible for a modern author to succeed in sacred poetry. He has proved that verse and devotion are natural allies. He has shown that true poetical genius cannot be more honourably or more delightfully employed than in diffusing through the heart and mind of man a filial affection for his Maker, with a firm and cheerful trust in his word. He has sung in a strain, in some degree at least equal to the great subject, the blessed advent of the Messiah; and perhaps it will not be saying too much, to assert that his poetry will have no inconsiderable influence in preparing the world for the cordial reception of all the rich blessings which this event was intended to introduce."

Up to the period when Cowper's productions were given to the world, it was foolishly imagined impossible success

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fully to employ the graces and beauties of poetry on the side of virtue. A great modern critic had inconsiderately declared that contemplative piety cannot be poetical." Had he asserted only, that it had very rarely been so, the assertion would not have been unjust. It would, indeed, have coincided with the views entertained by Cowper himself; for, of his predecessors' productions, with few exceptions, no one could have formed a more correct opinion, as will appear by the following lines:

"Pity religion has so seldom found

A skilful guide into poetic ground!

The flowers would spring where'er she deigned to stray, And every muse attend her in her way.

Virtue indeed meets many a rhyming friend,

And many a compliment politely penned;
But unattired in that becoming vest
Religion weaves for her, and half undressed,
Stands in the desert, shivering and forlorn,
A wintry figure, like a withered thorn."

This censure, severely as it may fall on most of Cowper's predecessors, is not unjust. His muse, however, was the first to show that poetry, may be made the handmaid to religion. When he gave to the world the productions of his unrivalled pen, they saw, indeed,

"a bard all fire,

Touched with a coal from heaven, assume the lyre,
And tell the world, still kindling as he sung,
With more than mortal music on his tongue,
That he who died below, and reigns above,
Inspires the song, and that his name was love."

Cowper's religious sentiments were undoubtedly Calvinistic, and though his views of divine truth were generally unexceptionable, they were sometimes rather strongly tinged with the peculiarities of that system. On no occasion, how ever, that comes within our recollection, do we find him speaking of the character of God in such terms as would lead any, who were sincerely desirous of approaching Him in the way of his own appointment, to doubt of gracious reception at his hands. His own case, indeed, must be excepted, as his melancholy depression ever led him to regard himself as a solitary instance of the rejection of God and of the reversal of his decree. It could seldom, if ever, be inferred from any

of his representations, that he thought the Divine Being, by the mere exercise of his sovereignty, continued any of his creatures, except, indeed, it were himself, in a state of suffering in the present life, or placed them beyond the means of escaping from misery, in the future. His views of the atonement and of the infinite extent of its efficacy, were such as led him, whenever he had occasion to advert to it, to represent it truly, as a solid ground of hope and comfort, to every converted sinner, whatever might have been his character. He felt an entire conviction that he whose infinite compassion had prompted him to make provision for the restoration of fallen man to his favour, intended it to be universally beneficial; and that the perverseness and obstinacy of men were the only reasons why it was not so. That he should have regarded his own case as an exception, and should, consequently, have passed the greater part of his life in the bitterness of despair, is a difficulty which we are persuaded will, in the present life, for ever remain unaccounted for. To assert, as some have done, on no other foundation than that of mere opinion, that had he not been religious he would never have been melancholy, is utterly at variance with all the leading facts of his history. To every well regulated mind it will be abundantly evident, that whatever reasons may be assigned for the affecting peculiarity of his case, the deep concern he felt for religion could never have been the cause. On the contrary, it will appear clearly to have been much more likely to become the best preventive, as, in fact, the events of his life prove it to have been, though, owing to some unaccountable organic conformation, much less completely than might have been hoped.

No person was ever more alive to the benefits of real friendship, or had ever formed more correct conceptions of its obligations and delights. His inimitable stanzas, on this most interesting subject, which are perhaps superior to anything that has ever been written upon it, prove incontestibly that he understood what were its indispensable prerequisites, and his whole conduct through life shows that he felt the full force of that friendship which he so admirably described. It is difficult to make extracts from a poem, every line of which is almost alike excellent, we cannot, however, deny ourselves the pleasure of presenting our readers with the following admirable lines:

"Who hopes a friend, should have a heart
Himself, well furnished for the part

And ready on occasion,

To show the virtue that he seeks;
For 'tis an union that bespeaks
A just reciprocation.

A man renowned for repartee
Will seldom scruple to make free

With friendship's finest feeling;
Will thrust a dagger at your breast,
And tell you 'twas a special jest,
By way of balm for healing.

Beware of tatlers! keep your ear
Close stopt against the tales they bear,
Fruits of their own invention !

The separation of chief friends
Is what their business most intends,
Their sport is
your dissension.

Religion should extinguish strife,
And make a calm of human life:
But even those who differ
Only on topics left at large,

How fiercely will they meet, and charge;
No combatants are stiffer.

Then judge, before you choose your man,
As circumspectly as you can;
And having made election,

See that no disrespect of yours,
Such as a friend but ill endures,
Enfeeble his affection.

As similarity of mind,

Or something not to be defined,
First rivets our attention;
So manners decent and polite,
The same we practised at first sight,
Must save it from declension.

The man who hails you Tom, or Jack,
And proves, by thumping on your back,
His sense of your great merit;

Is such a friend, that one had need
Be very much his friend indeed,
To pardon, or to bear it.

Some friends make this their prudent plan, Say little, and hear all you can;

Safe policy, but hateful!

So barren sands imbibe the shower,
But render neither fruit nor flower
Unpleasant and ungrateful.

They whisper trivial things, and small;
But to communicate at all

Things serious, deem improper.
Their feculence and froth they show,
But keep their best contents below,
Just like a simmering copper.

Pursue the theme, and you will find
A disciplin'd and furnish'd mind
To be at least expedient;
And, after summing all the rest,
Religion ruling in the breast,
A principal ingredient.

True friendship has, in short, a grace,
More than terrestrial in its face,

That proves it heav'n-descended:
Man's love of woman not so pure,
Nor when sincerest, so secure,
To last till life is ended."

Cowper was, through life, the warm, though not the blind admirer of the British constitution; and though he made no pretensions to the character of a politician, yet he took the liveliest interest in all that related to the honour and prosperity of his country. In one of his letters to Mr. Newton, he thus writes: "I learned when I was a boy, being the son of a staunch Whig, and a man that loved his country, to glow with that patriotic enthusiasm which is apt to break forth into poetry, or at least to prompt a person, if he has any inelination that way, to poetical endeavours. After I was grown up, and while I lived in the Temple, I produced several halfpenny ballads, two or three of which had the honour of being popular. But unhappily, the ardour I felt upon the occasion, disdaining to be confined within the bounds of fact, pushed me upon uniting the prophetical with the poetical character, and defeated its own purpose. I am glad it did. The less there is of this sort in my productions the better. The stage of national affairs is such a fluctuating scene, that an event which seems probable to-day becomes impossible to-morrow; and unless a man were indeed a prophet, he cannot, but with the greatest hazard of losing his labour, bestow his rhymes