tionate obedience to the be the God of our falvation for hich by na xalt I have had many anxious thoughts about tak ders, and I believe every new convert is apt to think himself called upon for that purpose; but it has pleased God, by means which there is no need to particularize, to give me full fatisfaction as to the propriety of declining it indeed they who have the leaft idea of what I have fuffered from the dread of public exhibitions, will readily excuse my never attempting them hereafter. In the mean time, if it pleafe the Almighty, I may be an instrument of turning many to the truth in a private way, and hope that my endeavours in this way have not been entirely unfuccefsful. Had I the zeal of Mofes, I fhould want an Aaron to be my spokes-man. Yours ever, my dear coufin, WM. COWPER. LETTER X. To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-Houfe, Hartford. MY DEAR COUSIN, March 11, 1767. TO find those whom I love, clearly and strongly perfuaded of evangelical truth, gives me a pleasure fuperior to any, that this world can afford me. Judge then, whether your letter, in which the body and fubftance of a faving faith is fo evidently fet forth, could meet with a lukewarm reception at my hands, or be entertained with indifference! Would you know the true reason of my long filence? Confcious that my religious principles are generally excepted againft, and that the conduct they produce wherever they are heartily maintained, is ftill more the object of difapprobation than thofe principles themselves, and remembering, that I had made both the one and the other known to you, without having any ER. have none the place indee cards and dancing are faith in Jefus was of the fame the gentle inhacter, I could not help thinking it poffible take pa might disapprove both my fentiments and pracce, that you might think the one unfupported by Scripture, and the other, whimfical, and unneceffarily strict and rigorous, and confequently would be rather pleased with the fufpenfion of a correfpondence, which a different way of thinking upon fo momentous a fubject as that we wrote upon, was likely to render tedious and irkfome to you. I have told you the truth from my heart; forgive me these injurious suspicions, and, never imagine that I shall hear from you upon this delightful theme without a real joy, or without prayer to God to prosper you in the way of his truth, his fanctifying and faving truth. The book you mention lies now upon my table. Marshal is an old acquaintance of mine; I have both read him and heard him read with pleasure and edification. The doctrines he maintains are, under the influence of the Spirit of Christ, the very life of my foul, and the foul of all my happiness; that Jesus is a prefent Saviour from the guilt of fin by his most precious blood, and from the power of it by his fpirit; that corrupt and wretched in ourfelves, in Him, and in Him only, we are complete; that being united to Jefus by a lively faith, we have a folid and eternal intereft in his obedience and fufferings, to justify us before the face of our heavenly Father, and that all this ineftimable treafure, the earnest of which is in grace, and its confummation in glory, is given, freely given to us of God; in fhort, that he hath opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. These are the truths, which, by the grace of God, fhall ever be dearer to me than life itself; fhall ever be placed next my heart as the throne whereon the Saviour himself shall fit, to fway all its motions, and reduce that world of iniquity and rebel lion to a state of filial and affectionate obedience to the will of the moft Holy. Thefe, my dear coufin, are the truths to which by na、 ture we are enemies-they debafe the finner, and exalt the Saviour to a degree which the pride of our hearts (till almighty grace fubdues them) is determined never to allow. May the Almighty reveal his Son in our hearts continually more and more, and teach us to increase in love towards him continually, for having given us the unspeakable riches of Chrift. Yours faithfully, WM. COWPER LETTER XI. To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-Houfe, Hartford. MY DEAR COUSIN, March 14, 1767. I JUST add a line by way of Poftfcript to my last, to apprize you of the arrival of a very dear friend of mine at the Park on Friday next, the fon of Mr. Unwin, whom I have defired to call on you in his way from London to Huntingdon. If you knew him as well as I do, you would love him as much. But I leave the young man to speak for himfelf, which he is very able to do. He is ready poffeffed of an answer to every question you can poffibly afk concerning me, and knows my whole ftory from first to last. I give you this previous notice, because I know you are not fond of ftrange faces, and because I thought it would in fome degree fave him the pain of announcing himself. I am become a great Florist, and Shrub doctor. If the Major can make up a fmall packet of feeds that will make a figure in a garden, where we have little elfe befides jeffamine and honey-fuckle; fuch a packet I mean as may be put in one's fob, I will promife to take great care of them, as I ought to value natives of the Park. They must not be fuch however as require great skill in the management, for at prefent I have no fkill to fpare. I think Marshal one of the best writers, and the most fpiritual expofitor of Scripture, I ever read. I admire the strength of his argument, and the clearness of his reasonings upon thofe parts of our most holy religion, which are generally leaft understood (even by real Christians) as master-pieces of the kind. on the union of the foul with Chrift, is what I mean, in which he has spoken of a most mysterious truth with admirable perfpicuity, and with great good-fenfe, making it all the while fubfervient to his main purport of proving holiness to be the fruit and effect of faith. His fection upan instance of I fubjoin thus much upon that author, because though you desired my opinion of him, I remember that in my last, I rather left you to find it out by inference, than expreffed it as I ought to have done. I never met with a man who understood the plan of falvation better, or was more happy in explaining it. LETTER XII. To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-Houfe, Hartford. MY DEAR COUSIN, HUNTINGDON, April 3, 1767. YOU fent my friend Unwin home to us, charmed with your kind reception of him, and with every thing he faw at the Park. Shall I once more give you a peep into my vile and deceitful heart? What motive do you think lay at the bottom of my conduc when I defired him to call upon you? I did not suspect at first that pride and vain glory had any share in it, but quickly after I had recommended the vifit to him, I dif covered in that fruitful foil the very root of the matter. You know I am a stranger here; all fuch are suspected characters, unless they bring their credentials with them. To this moment, I believe, it is matter of speculation in the place, whence I came, and to whom I belong. Though my friend, you may suppose, before I was ad mitted an inmate here, was fatisfied that I was not a mere vagabond, and has fince that time received more convincing proofs of my fponfibility, yet I could not refift the opportunity of furnishing him with ocular demonstration of it, by introducing him to one of my most fplendid connexions; that when he hears me called that fellow Cowper, which has happened heretofore, he may be able, upon unquestionable evidence, to affert my gentlemanhood, and relieve me from the weight of that opprobrious appellation. Oh pride! pride! it deceives with the fubtlety of a ferpent, and feems to walk erect, though it crawls upon the earth. How will it twist and twine itself about, to get from under the cross, which it is the glory of our Chriftian calling to be able to bear with patience and good will. They who can guess at the heart of a stranger, and you efpecially, who are of a compaffionate temper, will be more ready perhaps to excufe me in this inftance, than I can be to excufe myself. But in good truth it was abominable pride of heart, indignation and vanity, and deferves no better name. How fhould fuch a creature be admitted into those pure and finless manfions, where nothing fhall enter that defileth, did not the blood of Chrift, applied by the hand of faith, take away the guilt of fin, and leave no spot or ftain behind it? Oh, what continual need have I of an Almighty, All-fufficient Saviour! I am glad you are acquainted fo particularly with all the circumstances of my ftory, for I know that your fecrecy and difcretion may be trusted with any thing. A thread of mercy ran |