your Letter, in which the body and substance of a saving faith is so evidently set forth, could meet with a lukewarm reception at my hands, or be entertained with indifference! Would you know the true reason of my long silence? Conscious that my religious principles are generally excepted against, and that the conduct they produce wherever they are heartily maintained, is still more the object of disapprobation than those principles themselves, and remembering, that I had made both the one and the other known to you, without having any clear assurance that our faith in Jesus was of the same stamp and character, I could not help thinking it possible that you might disapprove both my sentiments and practice, that you might think the one unsupported by Scripture, and the other, whimsical, and unnecessarily strict and rigorous, and consequently would be rather pleased with the suspension of a correspondence, which a different way of thinking upon so momentous a subject as that we wrote upon, was likely to render tedious and irksome 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 sanctifying and saving 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 soul, and the soul of all my happiness; that Jesus is a present Saviour from the guilt of sin by his most precious Blood, and from the power of it by his Spirit; that corrupt and wretched in ourselves, in Him, and in Him only, we are complete; that being united to Jesus by a lively faith, we have a solid and eternal interest in his obedience and sufferings, to justify us before the face of our heavenly Father, and that all this inestimable treasure, the earnest of which is in Grace, and its consummation in Glory, is given, freely given to us of God; in short, that he hath opened the Kingdom of Heaven to all Believers. These are the Truths, which, by the Grace of God, shall ever be dearer to me than life itself; shall ever be placed next my heart as the Throne whereon the Saviour himself shall sit, to sway all its motions, and reduce that world of iniquity and rebellion to a state of filial and affectionate obedience to the will of the most Holy.

These, my dear Cousin, are the Truths to which by Nature we are enemies—they debase the Sinner, and exalt the Saviour to a degree which the pride of our hearts (till Almighty grace subdues 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 Christ. Yours faithfully,

WM. COWPER.

LETTER

LETTER XI.

To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-House, Hartford.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

March 14, 1767.

I just add a line by way of Postscript

to my last, to apprize you of the arrival of a very dear Friend of mine at the Park on Friday next, the Son of Mr. Unwin, whom I have desired 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 himself, which he is very able to do. He is ready possessed of an answer to every question you can possibly ask concerning me, and knows my whole Story from first to last. I give you this previous notice, because I know you are not fond of strange faces, and because I thought it would in some degree save him the pain of announcing himself.

If the Major

I am become a great Florist, and Shrub doctor. can make up a small packet of Seeds that will make a figure in a garden, where we have little else besides Jessamine and Honeysuckle; such a packet I mean as may be put in one's fob, I will promise to take great care of them, as I ought to value natives of the Park. They must not be such however as require great skill in the management, for at present I have no skill to spare.

I think Marshal one of the best writers, and the most spiritual expositor of Scripture, I ever read. I admire the strength of his argument, and the clearness of his reasonings upon those parts of our most holy Religion, which are generally least understood (even by real Christians) as master-pieces of the kind. His Section upon the union of the Soul with Christ, is an instance of what I mean, in which he has spoken of a most mysterious truth with admirable perspicuity, and with great good-sense, making it all the while subservient to his main purport of proving Holiness to be the fruit and effect of Faith.

I subjoin 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 expressed it as I ought to have done. I never met with a man who understood the plan of salvation better, or was more happy in explaining it.

LETTER XII.

To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-House, Hartford.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

Huntingdon, April 3, 1767.

You sent my friend Unwin home to us,

charmed with your

kind reception of him, and with every thing he

saw at the Park. Shall I once more give you a peep into my vile

and

and deceitful Heart? What motive do you think lay at the bottom of my conduct when I desired 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 visit to him, I discovered in that fruitful soil the very root of the matter. You know I am a Stranger here; all such 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 admitted an inmate here, was satisfied that I was not a mere Vagabond, and has since that time received more convincing proofs of my sponsibility, yet I could not resist the opportunity of furnishing him with ocular demonstration of it, by introducing him to one of my most splendid connexions; that when he hears me called that fellow Cowper, which has happened heretofore, he may be able, upon unquestionable evidence, to assert my Gentlemanhood, and relieve me from the weight of that opprobrious appellation. Oh Pride, Pride! it deceives with the subtlety of a Serpent, and seems 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 Christian calling to be able to bear with patience and good will. They who can guess at the heart of a stranger, and you especially, who are of a compassionate temper, will be more ready perhaps to excuse me in this instance, than I can be to ex

cuse