thought it desirable that their society should be more frequent; and one of Mr Unwin's boarders having removed to the university, a vacancy was left in his establishment, which Mr Cowper requesting he might be allowed to fill, to the delight of both parties, he became an inmate of the family. Of the mode of life followed by these estimable persons, Mr Cowper furnishes us with an interesting account: "As to amusements-I mean what the world calls such-we have none. The place, indeed, swarms with them; and cards and dancing are the professed business of almost all the gentle inhabitants of Huntingdon. We refuse to take part in them, or to be accessaries to this way of murdering our time; and, by so doing, have acquired the name of Methodists. Having told you how we do not spend our time, I will next say how we do. We breakfast commonly between eight and nine; till eleven we read either the scripture, or the sermons of some faithful preacher of those holy mysteries; at eleven we attend divine service, which is performed here twice every day; and from twelve to three we separate, and amuse ourselves as we please. During that interval, I either read in my own apartment, or walk, or ride, or work in the garden. We seldom sit an hour after dinner; but, if the weather permits, adjourn to the garden, where, with Mrs Unwin and her 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" (his cousin's) "collection, and, by the help of Mrs Unwin's harpsichord, make up a tolerable concert; in which our hearts, I hope, are the best and most musical performers. I need not tell you, that such a life as this is consistent with the utmost cheerfulness: accordingly, we are all happy, and dwell together in unity as brethren. Mrs Unwin has almost a maternal affection for me, and I have something like a filial one for her; and her son and I are brothers.

After tea we sally forth to walk in good earnest. Mrs Unwin is a good walker; and we have generally travelled about four miles before we see home again. When the days are short, we make this excursion in the former part of the day, between church time and dinner. At night we read and converse as before, till supper; and commonly finish the evening either with hymns or a sermon; and last of all, the family are called to prayers.

"

A critic of deserved celebrity, for acuteness of intellect, justness of taste, and a richly-embellished style of writing-but whose superficial knowledge of religious subjects accounts for that random discharge of sarcasm and raillery, in which he frequently indulges towards those persons who are remarkable for piety,with characteristic flippancy, observes of Mr Cowper, in this stage of his history: "He talks a great deal of conversion, and of the grace which had at last been vouchsafed to him."" We think Mr Hayley might have spared some of the Methodistical raptures that are contained in these letters.' "The life of Cowper, at this time," (the happiest of all his life!) "was more like that of a penitentiary friar, than of a protestant layman.' And is this a specimen of that Christianity which has arrogated to itself the name rational? If it pass for rational Christianity, the same principle applied to the conduct of interests merely human would be sure of receiving the strongest condemnation. For example, if this critic had a son, whom he had destined for the bar, if instead of sending him to a university, and enlarging his mind with the acquirements of general knowledge and elegant literature, that in due time he might make his debut, in his profession, with credit to himself and pleasure to his father-he should confine his instructions to the mere rudiments of education, and should then hand him over to the crew of a man of war, for a few years, as a preparation for his coming forward to be an advocate-if he were to adopt this course, who would not brand him

with the name of idiot or madman? And yet, when a creature made for immortality, a mere passenger through this short-lived scene, devotes the greatest share of his attention and regard to that eternity to which, with so much rapidity, he is hasting, he must be pointed at with the finger of scorn, and pitied as under the influence of a silly credulity! And this, forsooth! is perfectly rational!-Or, view the case in another light. Cowper's mind was of a peculiar structure, as was evident from his very infancy. Always possessed of the most exquisite sensibility, tinged with a feeling of melancholy, this morbid affection was considerably aggravated, first at school, by the little tyrant of shoe-buckle memory, and then by the affair of the clerkship. Mental derangement succeeded. He had happily recovered from the latter disease; but retained his constitutional bias. His mind became the seat of religious affections. Granting his kind of religion to be a mere illusion, it must be conceded that he was convinced of its reality. In this state of mind what description of people ought he to select for his intimate friends and associates, as fittest for soothing his feelings, and promoting his happiness? Those persons, surely, whose feelings and habits and pursuits corresponded with his own. What a singular coincidence, in all these particulars, there was with himself and the Unwins, allow himself to bear evidence.

"I have added another family to the number" "their name is Unwin-the most agreeable people imaginable, quite sociable, and as free from the ceremonious civility of country gentlefolks as any I ever met with. They treat me more like a near relation than a stranger, and their house is always open to me. The old gentleman carries me to Cambridge in his chaise. He is a man of learning and good sense, and as simple as parson Adams. His wife has a very uncommon understanding, has read much to excellent purpose, and is more polite than a dutchess. The son is a most amiable young man, and the

daughter quite of a piece with the rest of the family. They see but little company, which suits me exactly. Go when I will, I find a house full of peace and cordiality in all its parts. You remember Rousseau's description of an English morning: such are the mornings I spend with these good people. Now 1 know them. I wonder I liked Huntingdon so well before I knew them; and am apt to think I should find every place disagreeable that has not an Unwin belonging to it." Assuredly, if there was any spot beneath the sky, any people, within the wide range of humanity, more adapted than others for Cowper's partialities and habits, this was the spot! these were the people!

In contrasting the pitiful attempt to ridicule the religious character of Cowper, made by the critic already referred to, with his exquisitely beautiful, and able, and fair estimate of his characteristic merits as a poet-one cannot help recollecting the severe but merited satire contained in a quotation from Virgil, and applied by the most illustrious pulpit orator of modern times the Rev. Robert Hall-to the Edinburgh Review," 'Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, cui lumen ademp

tum.

Such was the ardour of his religious feelings at this time, that he could, with difficulty, divert his mind from either meditating or conversing on divine subjects, or from his devotional exercises. Having himself become a partaker of the salvation of the gospel, he very naturally began to feel a desire of being a more efficient instrument of good to others, than was compatible with his station and character, as a private christian. A desire similar to this is often felt by converts recently after their conversion, such is the intensity of their zeal, that they think they should become missionaries, to convey the delightful tidings to others, the reception of which has wrought so marvellous a change on themselves. But presently this ardour cools down to the point of

christian discretion: they abandon these distant and uncertain views of doing good, for present, though less extensive, benefit to those within their own limited sphere. Cowper bad too much good sense to be carried out of his course by the influence of a silly vanity. Indeed, he hated display, and his constitutional timidity, he was perfectly sensible was únsurmountable. When writing on this subject to a friend, he very pleasantly remarks, that, "had I the zeal of Moses, I should want an Aaron to be my spokesman ;" and adds, "In the meantime, if it please the Almighty, I may be the means of turning many to the truth in a private way; and I hope that my endeavours in this way have not been entirely unsuccessful."

That delightful family scene of domestic happiness, which he has sketched so inimitably in a letter formerly quoted, was, not long after this, to be distressingly disturbed. In the summer of 1767, Mr Unwin, when riding to church on a Sabbath, unfortunately fell from his horse, and fractured his skull. He lived only till the Thursday following, when he died, in Cowper's presence, in full possession of the hope of the gospel. Though the whole family felt acutely the melancholy bereavement and particularly the widow-yet, disconsolate as she was, religion supported her so, that she was enabled, like the Psalmist, "to sing of mercy as well as of judgment. Her mind, however, recurred too frequently to scenes long hallowed by conjugal intercourse. It was, therefore, resolved that the family should remove to some other part of the country; and, after some inquiry and consideration, they left Huntingdon for Olney. In choosing this small town, they were, no doubt, influenced by the friendship they had formed with the excellent Mr Newton, then curate of that parish. Indeed, Mr Newton, when at Cambridge, having paid a visit to the Unwins, at the request of a brother clergyman, and finding them a truly devout family, pressed them to fix their resi