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The time of Cowper, in his new situation, seems to have been chiefly devoted to religious contemplation, to social prayer, and to active charity. To this first of Christian virtues, his heart was eminently inclined, and Providence very graciously enabled him to exercise and enjoy it to an extent far superior to what his own scanty fortune appeared to allow. He was very far from inheriting opulence on the death of his Father in 1756, and the singular cast of his own mind was such, that nature seemed to have rendered it impossible for him either to covet or to acquire riches. His perfect exemption from worldly passions is forcibly displayed in the two following Letters.

LETTER XV.

To JOSEPH HILL, Esqr.

DEAR JOE.

Olney, June 16, 1768.

I thank you for so full an answer to so

empty an epistle. If Olney furnished any thing for your amusement you should have it in return, but occurrences here are as scarce as cucumbers at Christmas.

I visited St. Albans about a fortnight since in person, and I visit it every day in thought. The recollection of what passed there, and the consequences that followed it, fill my mind continually, and make the circumstances of a poor transient half spent life, so insipid and unaffecting, that I have no heart to think or write much

about

about them.

Whether the nation are worshiping Mr. Wilkes, or any other idol, is of little moment to one who hopes and believes that he shall shortly stand in the presence of the great and blessed God. I thank him that he has given me such a deep impressed persuasion of this awful truth, as a thousand worlds would not purchase from me. It gives a relish to every blessing, and makes every trouble light. Affectionately yours,

W. C.

LETTER XV1.

To JOSEPH HILL, Esqr.

DEAR JOE.

1769.

Sir Thomas crosses the Alps, and Sir Cowper, for that is his title at Olney, prefers his home to any other spot of earth in the world. Horace, observing this difference of temper in different persons, cried out a good many years ago, in the true spirit of poetry, "How much one man differs from another!" This does not seem a very sublime exclamation in English, but I remember we were taught to admire it in the original.

My dear Friend I am obliged to you for your invitation: but being long accustomed to retirement, which I was always fond of, I am now more than ever unwilling to revisit those noisy and crowded scenes which I never loved, and which I now abhor. I remember you with all the friendship I ever professed, which is as

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much as I ever entertained for any man. But the strange and uncommon incidents of my life, have given an entire new turn to my whole character and conduct, and rendered me incapable of receiving pleasure from the same employments and amusements of which I could readily partake in former days.

I love you, and yours, I thank you for your continued remembrance of me, and shall not cease to be their and

your

Affectionate Friend and Servant,

W. COWPER.

His retirement was ennobled by many private acts of beneficence, and his exemplary virtue was such, that the opulent sometimes delighted to make him their almoner. In his sequestered life at Olney, he ministered abundantly to the wants of the poor, from a fund, with which he was supplied by that model of extensive and unostentatious philanthropy, the late John Thornton, Esqr. whose name he has immortalized in his Poem on Charity, still honouring his memory by an additional tribute to his virtues, in the following unpublished Poem, written immediately on his decease, in the year. 1790.

Poets attempt the noblest task they can,
Praising the Author of all Good in Man;
And next commemorating worthies lost,
The dead, in whom that good abounded most.

Thee

Thee therefore of commercial fame, but more
Fam'd for thy probity, from shore to shore,
Thee, Thornton, worthy in some page to shine,
As honest, and more eloquent than mine,

I mourn; or since thrice happy thou must be,
The world, no longer thy abode, not thee;
Thee to deplore, were grief mis-spent indeed;
It were to weep, that goodness has its meed,
That there is bliss prepared in yonder sky,
And glory for the virtuous—when they die.

What pleasure can the miser's fondled hoard,

thee means

Or spendthrift's prodigal excess afford,
Sweet, as the privilege of healing woe,
Suffer'd by virtue, combating below?
That privilege was thine; Heaven gave
To illumine with delight the saddest scenes,
Till thy appearance chas'd the gloom, forlorn
As mid-night, and despairing of a morn.
Thou had'st an industry in doing good,
Restless as his, who toils and sweats for food,
Av'rice in thee was the desire of wealth
By rust unperishable, or by stealth.
And if the genuine worth of gold depend
On application to its noblest end.

Thine had a value in the scales of Heaven,

Surpassing all, that mine or mint have given;
And tho' God made thee of a nature prone
To distribution boundless, of thy own,

And

And still, by motives of religious force,
Impell'd thee more to that heroic course;
Yet was thy liberality discreet,

Nice in its choice, and of a temp'rate heat;
And though in act unwearied, secret still,
As, in some solitude, the summer rill
Refreshes, where it winds, the faded green,
And chears the drooping flowers-unheard, unseen!

Such was thy Charity; no sudden start,
After long sleep of passion in the heart,
But steadfast principle, and in its kind
Of close alliance with th' eternal mind;
Trac'd easily to its true source above,

To Him, whose works bespeak his nature, love!
Thy bounties all were Christian, and I make

This record of thee for the Gospel's sake ;

That the incredulous themselves

may see

Its use and power, exemplified in Thee.

This simple and sublime eulogy was perfectly merited, and among the happiest actions of this truly liberal man, we may reckon his furnishing to a character so reserved, and so retired as Cowper, the means of his enjoying the gratification of active and costly beneficence: a gratification, in which the sequestered Poet had nobly indulged himself, before his acquaintance with Mr. Newton afforded him an opportunity of being concerned in distri

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