oning himself he saw now impracticable at home, from the interruption of his laundress. He hired a coach to carry him to a place fit for the execution of his dreadful purpose, but was providentially diverted from it, by noticing that people observed his motions. After this in attempting to take the oblivious draught, his agitation was so excessive that his hand could not raise the phial. Another attempt, made in his own room, proved again unsuccessful: for, in trying to lift up a small basin into which the laudanum had been emptied, he found his hands had become powerless, and refused to do their duty. Meantime, hear. ing his laundress' husband approaching, he concealed the basin and hasted to bed again. He now began to reflect on his late attempts at suicide, and, in a qualm of conscience, he emptied the basin, and threw it out at the window.-When he parted with the drug, however, he could not shake himself clear of his melancholy. On awaking early the following morning, he renewed the dreadful attempt in a manner somewhat different. Having succeeded in finding his penknife, he applied the point of it to his breast, and bringing the whole weight of his body upon it repeatedly, he thought he was sure of his aim; but he was again defeated in his object. The point of the knife had been broken. This took place at three o'clock. At seven o'clock in the same morning, conscious that the crisis of his fate was at hand, and resolute on destruction, he tried to strangle himself by means of his garter; and accordingly, having formed a noose, he introduced his neck into it, and having drawn it as tight as possible, fixed it by the buckle, and then suspended himself from an iron pin at the top of his bed. All would not do,the head of the bed broke down, and once more frustrated his purpose. His last stratagem seemed to him certain of effecting instant death. He formed a large loop in his garter, once more, and having by means of a chair, reached to the top of his chamberdoor, which he had previously opened, he fixed the

loop on a large angle of the door, pushed away the chair with his feet, and at last swung to his content. While suspended thus from the door, he persuaded himself that he heard a voice utter distinctly-"'tis over. He continued hanging till he became insensible, and to resume his own narrative," Having fallen to the ground on my face, in about half a minute I recovered my feet, and, reeling and staggering, tumbled into bed. The stagnation of blood under one eye, in a broad crimson spot, and a red circle round my neck, showed plainly that I had been on the brink of eternity-. The noise of his fall brought his laundress into the room, from appre

hension that he had fallen into a fit. He sent her off immediately for a confidential friend, to whom he made an ingenuous confession of all his attempts to get rid of life-this he communicated likewise to his beneficent relative, not long after; who, on being shown the ruptured garter, exclaimed, "My dear Mr Cowper, to be sure you cannot hold the situation at this rate.' On this, his friend asked for the deed of appointment to the dreadful office, and carrying it off with him, terminated the affair.

It might have been expected that cheerfulness would now dissipate the sable clouds that lowered over Mr Cowper's mind, banishing sleep from his eyes, and peace from his heart. But ah! no: his feelings had been deeply wounded-the disease might be alleviated; but, as will be seen in the sequel, it could not be cured. That general tendency to seriousness which he once and again experienced, though to a slight degree, when at Westminster, (where, however, it did bring him the length of falling on his knees,) now returned. The dreadful guilt he had incurred, by his late conduct, stared him in the face. His conscience spoke out, and thundered in his ear the alarms of Sinai. "The terrors of the Lord" did not, however, yet shut him up to the faith and hope of the gospel. Reflecting on the peculiarity of his own sin, he was in constant

dread, from the conviction of its heinousness, that the door of mercy was for ever barred against so atrocious an offender. While in this dejected state, he received a visit from his brother John, who had now become a clergyman. The latter endeavoured to soothe his agitated feelings by those religious considerations, usually addressed to persons subject to dejection of spirits. But his brother was himself, at this time, ignorant of the " Balm of Gilead, and the physician there ;" and all the arguments he could adduce, as well as all the promises he could address to the wounded conscience, produced no beneficial effect. His cousin the Rev. Martin Madan, a gentleman of deep piety, and experimental knowledge of genuine christianity, having arrived on a visit, at the same time, was the happy instrument of producing a considerable degree of tranquillity in Mr Cowper's mind. And this most desirable change he effected by means which the sceptic_ will probably honour with the epithet fanatical. He proved to his diseased friend, from the Bible, that all are guilty in the sight of God; and, of course, none of themselves, are entitled to a preference in the Divine regard. He then unfolded to him, the " great mystery of godliness"-the atonement and righteousness of the divine Redeemer; by which, on the one hand, the justice of God was satisfied; and on the other, provision was made for the sanctification of the sinner, in time, and his felicity secured in eternity. This was the remedy suited to his case. He eagerly embraced the promise; and hope once more dawned upon his mind.-Alas! his peace was but for a time. His perception of divine truth, though vivid, was short lived. One fatal error had insinuated itself into his conceptions of the mediatorial scheme of recovery, viz. a higher estimate of his own moral powers than is compatible with man's fallen condition. Supposing that all the objects of his heart (and they were of the purest kind) were within the reach of his own attainment; but finding himself

disappointed, and to which he had been repeatedly subjected, not sensible of the true cause, his mind was again shrouded in the darkness of despair. From what has already been stated of Cowper's constitution from his earliest years, and of the extreme dejection of mind he had repeatedly been subject to, before this time, the reader will not be surprised to learn that symptoms of insanity now determined the character of his disease. On mature deliberation, therefore, he was placed under the care of Dr Cotton, of St Albans, a gentleman not more distinguished for ability in the medical profession, than for the most amiable and christian demeanour. Under the highl judicious treatment he experienced from this excellent man, in little more than six months his disease had so far been subdued, that he entered into conversation with his truly christian physician, who scrupled not to give their conversation a religious turn:-nay, he admitted him to fellowship of a higher nature; allowing him regularly to form one of the party at his daily domestic worship. These exercises Mr Cowper seemed to enjoy. The unrestrained intercourse on spiritual matters he had with the Dr gradually tranquillized his feelingsand at length his despair was entirely removed, and confidence in God produced, by reading that admirable summary of the gospel, by the apostle," God hath set forth Christ Jesus to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are past, through the forbearance of God." He now (what a change!) "joyed in God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord, from whom we have received the atonement. His time was now devoted to the noblest objects, the attainment of the knowledge of God, and private and social devotion; and his heart, naturally tender, touched by the grace of Christ, flowed in grateful affection towards the " God of comfort."

In this pleasing state of mind he remained all the time of his stay in Dr Cotton's house, which was a

year after his recovery. He had been often visited by his brother, during his stay at St Albans; but now conceived his continuing longer there to be very inconvenient to his brother, and rather inconsistent with that economy which he did not lose sight of in the management of his pecuniary concerns. His wish was to be near his brother; and after some inquiry and consideration, Huntingdon was selected for his future residence; being only sixteen miles from Cambridge, where John was at this time living. Privacy and retirement were the objects he had in view in settling at the former place; but a person of Mr C.'s striking and interesting appearance, could not fail of attracting attention. His expressive and engaging countenance, his well proportioned figure, with his easy and elegant manners, affected so strongly the mind of a young gentleman, a student from Cambridge, (whose father, Mr Unwin, was a clergyman, and was at the head of a private classical seminary at Huntingdon,) that he accosted M Cowper, all at once, and by the frankness and ingenousness of his address, in spite of Mr C.'s shyness, was admitted first to acquaintance, and, gradually, into the most affectionate and confidential friendship. Mr Unwin introduced his newlyacquired friend to his father's family, and to a few of the inhabitants of the place. His steady and valuable friend, Mr Joseph Hill, who had most faithfully managed his money matters when at St Albans, now visited and corresponded with him. He likewise renewed his intercourse, by letter, with his cousin Lady Hesketh, and with his cousins Major Cowper and his lady. His letters to this lady are most admirable. Betwixt them there subsisted a community of feeling regarding the one thing needful, which called forth, at different times, from him, statements of divine truth, which, for mellowness and unction, have rarely been equalled by the most advanced christians. His predilection for the Un wins still increasing, the friends on both side