according to his will. I ask no pardon of you for the gravity and gloominess of these reflections, which, with others of a similar complexion, are sure to occur to me when I think of a scene of public diversion like that you have witnessed."

The following remarks, extracted from a letter to the same correspondent, while they serve to display the state of his mind respecting religion, exhibit at the same time, the high value which he set upon the leading truths of the gospel:-"When I wrote the poem on Truth, it was indispensably necessary that I should set forth that doctrine which I know to be true; and that I should pass, what I understood to be a just censure, upon opinions and persuasions that stand in direct opposition to it; because, though some errors may be innocent, and even religious errors are not always dangerous, yet in a case where the faith and hope of a Christian are concerned, they must necessarily be destructive; and because neglecting this, I should have betrayed my subject; either suppressing what in my judgement is of the last importance, or giving countenance by a timid silence, to the very evils it was my design to combat. That you may understand me better, I will subjoin; that I wrote that poem on purpose to inculcate the eleemosynary character of the gospel, as a dispensation of mercy, in the most absolute sense of the word, to the exclusion of all claims of merit on the part of the receiver; consequently to set the brand of invalidity upon the plea of works, and to discover, upon scriptural ground, the absurdity of that notion, which includes a solecism in the very terms of it, that man by repentance and good works, may deserve the mercy of his Maker. I call it a solecism, because mercy deserved ceases to be mercy, and must take the name of justice. This is the opinion which I said, in my last, the world would not acquiesce in, but except this,

I do not recollect that I have introduced a syllable into any of my pieces, that they can possibly object to; and even this I have endeavoured to deliver from doctrinal dryness, by as many pretty things, in the way of trinket and plaything, as I could muster upon the subject. So that if I have rubbed their gums, I have taken care to do it with a coral, and even that coral embellished by the ribbon to which it is attached, and recommended by the tinkling of all the bells I could contrive to annex to it."

The following beautiful lines convey sentiments so much in unison with this extract, that we cannot forbear to insert them at the close of this chapter:

"I am no preacher; let this hint suffice,

The cross once seen is death to every vice;
Else he that hung there suffered all his pain,
Bled, groaned, and agonized, and died in vain.
There, and there only, (though the deist rave,
And atheist, if earth bear so base a slave,)
There, and there only, is the power to save;
There no delusive hope invites despair,
No mockery meets you, no deception there,
The spells and charms that blinded you before,
All vanish there, and fascinate no more."

Progress of Error.

CHAPTER IX.

Commencement of Cowper's acquaintance with Lady Austin - Pleasure it afforded him Poetic epistle to her - Her removal to Olney— Beneficial influence of her conversational powers on Cowper's mind - Occasion of his writing John Gilpin-Lines composed at Lady Austin's request-Induced by her to commence writing The Task - Principal object he had in view in composing itSudden and final separation from Lady Austin- Occasional severity of his depressive malady - Hopes entertained by his friends of his ultimate recovery - His own opinion upon it- Pleasing proofs of the power of religion on his mind-Tenderness of his conscience - Serious reflections - Aversion to religious deception and pretended piety - Bigotry and intolerance, with their opposite vices, levity and indifference, deplored-Sympathy with the sufferings of the poor-Enviable condition of such of them as are pious, compared with the rich who disregard religion.

In the autumn of 1781, Cowper became acquainted with Lady Austin, whose brilliant wit and unrivalled conversational powers, were admirably adapted to afford relief to a mind like his. This lady was introduced to the retired poet by her sister, the wife of a clergyman, who resided at Clifton, a mile distant from Olney, and who occasionally called upon Mrs. Unwin. Lady Austin came to pass some time with her sister, in the summer of 1781, and Mrs. Unwin, at Cowper's request, invited the ladies to tea. So much, however, was he averse to the company of strangers, that after he had occasioned the invitation, it was with considerable reluctance he was persuaded to join the party; but having at length overcome his feelings, he entered

freely into conversation with Lady Austin, and derived so much benefit from her sprightly and animating discourse, that he from that time cultivated her acquaintance with the greatest attention.

The opinion Cowper formed of this accomplished and talented lady, may be ascertained by the following extracts from his letters:-" Lady Austin has paid us her first visit, and not content with shewing us that proof of her respect, made handsome apologies for her intrusion. She is a lively, agreeable woman; has seen much of the world, and accounts it a great simpleton, as it is. She laughs, and makes laugh, without seeming to labour at it. She has many features in her character which you must admire, but one in particular, on account of the rarity of it, will engage your attention and esteem. She has a degree of gratitude in her composition, so quick a sense of obligation, as is hardly to be found in any rank of life. Discover but a wish to please her, and she never forgets it; not only thanks you, but the tears will start into her eyes at the recollection of the smallest service. With these fine feelings she has the most harmless vivacity you can imagine: half an hour's conversation with her will convince you that she is one of the most intelligent, pious, and agreeable ladies you ever met with."

The following lines, part of a poetical epistle, addressed by Cowper to Lady Austin, will shew how much he was delighted with his new friend :

"Dear Anna,- between friend and friend

Prose answers every common end;

Serves, in a plain and homely way,

To express the occurrence of the day,

Our health, the weather, and the news,

What walks we take, what books we choose,

And all the floating thoughts we find

Upon the surface of the mind.

But when a poet takes the pen,

Far more alive than other men,
He feels a gentle tingling come
Down to his fingers and his thumb,
Deriv'd from nature's noblest part,
The centre of a glowing heart!

And this is what the world, who knows
No flights above the pitch of prose,
His more sublime vagaries slighting,
Denominates an itch for writing.
No wonder I, who scribble rhyme
To catch the triflers of the time,

And tell them truths divine and clear,

Which couched in prose they will not hear, Should feel that itching and that tingling With all my purpose intermingling,

To your intrinsic merit true,

When call'd to address myself to you.
Mysterious are His ways whose power
Brings forth that unexpected hour,
When minds that never met before
Shall meet, unite, and part no more:

It is the allotment of the skies,

The hand of the supremely wise,

That guides and governs our affections,
And plans and orders our connections,
Directs us in our distant road,

And marks the bounds of our abode.

This page of Providence quite new,

And now just opening to our view,
Employs our present thoughts and pains,
To guess and spell what it contains;
But day by day, and year by year,
Will make the dark enigma clear,
And furnish us, perhaps, at last,
Like other scenes already past,
With proof that we and our affairs
Are part of a Jehovah's cares:
For God unfolds by slow degrees
The purport of his deep decrees,