mine had grown upon the fame fheep-fkin. Befides these, there are three or four fingle men, who fuit my temper to a hair. The town is one of the neatest in England, the country is fine, for feveral miles about it, and the roads, which are all turnpike, and strike out four or five different ways, are perfectly good all the year round. I mention this latter circumstance chiefly because my distance from Cambridge has made a horseman of me at laft, or at leaft is likely to do fo. My brother and I meet every week, by an alternate reciprocation of intercourfe, as Sam Johnson would express it; fometimes I get a lift in a neighbour's chaife, but generally ride. As to my own perfonal condition, I am much happier than the day is long, and fun-fhine and candle-light alike fee me perfectly contented. I get books in abundance, as much company as I choose, a deal of comfortable leifure, and enjoy better health, I think, than for many years paft. What is there wanting to make me happy? Nothing, if I can but be as thankful as I ought, and I trust that He who has bestowed fo many bleffings upon me, will give me gratitude to crown them all. I beg you will give my love to my dear coufin Maria, and to every body at the Park. If Mrs. Maitland is with you, as I suspect by a passage in Lady Hesketh's letter to me, pray remember me to her very affectionately. And believe me, My dear friend, ever yours, Wм. COWPER. DEAR JOE, LETTER III. To JOSEPH HILL, Efq. OCTOBER 25, 1765. I AM afraid the month of October has proved rather unfavourable to the belle affemblée at Southampton, high winds and continual rains being bitter enemies to that agreeable lounge, which you and I are equally fond of. I have very cordially betaken myfelf to my books and my fire-fide, and seldom leave them unless merely for exercife. I have added another family to the number of those I was acquainted with, when you were here. Their name is Unwin-the most agreeable people imaginable; quite fociable, 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 franger, and their houfe is always open to me. The old gentleman carries me to Cambridge in his chaife. He is a man of learning and good sense, and as fimple as Parfon Adams. His wife has a very uncommon understanding, has read much to excellent purpofe, and is more polite than a dutchefs. The fon, who belongs to Cambridge, is a moft amiable young man, and the daughter quite of a piece with the reft of the family. They fee but little company, which fuits me exactly; go when I will, I find a houfe full of peace and cordiality in all its parts, and am fure to hear no fcandal, but fuch difcourfe instead of it, as we are all the better for. You remember Rouffeau's defcription of an English morning; fuch are the mornings I fpend with thefe good people, and the evenings differ from them in nothing, except that they are still more fnug, and quieter Now I know them, I wonder that I liked Huntingdon fo well before I knew them, and am apt to think I fhould find every place difagreeable, that had not an Unwin belonging to it. This incident convinces me of the truth of an obfer. vation I have often made, that when we circumfcribe our estimate of all that is clever within the limits of our own acquaintance, (which I at leaft have been always apt to do) we are guilty of a very uncharitable cenfure upon the reft of the world, and of a narrowness of thinking difgraceful to ourselves. Wapping and Redriff may contain fome of the moft amiable perfons living, and fuch as one would go to Wapping and Redriff to make acquaintance with. You remember Mr. Gray's ftanza, Full many a gem of pureft ray ferene, Yours, dear Joe, WM. COWPER. LETTER IV. To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-Houfe, near Hartford. MY DEAR COUSIN, I AM much obliged to you for Pearshall's Meditations, especially as it furnishes me with an occafion of writing to you, which is all I have waited for. My friends must excuse me, if I write to none but those, who lay it fairly in my way to do fo. The inference I am apt to draw from their filence is, that they wish me to be filent too. I have great reafon, my dear coufin, to be thankful to the gracious Providence, that conducted me to this place. The lady, in whose house I live, is fo excellent a person, and regards me with a friendship so truly Chriftian, that I could almost fancy my own mother restored to life again, to compenfate to me for all the friends I have loft, and all my connexions broken. She has a fon at Cambridge in all respects worthy of such a mother, the most amiable young man I ever knew. His natural and acquired endowments are very confiderable, and as to his virtues, I need only fay, that he is a Chrif tian. It ought to be a matter of daily thanksgiving to me, that I am admitted into the fociety of fuch perfons, and I pray God to make me, and keep me, worthy of them. Your brother Martin has been very kind to me, having wrote to me twice in a style, which, though it once. was irksome to me, to say the least, I now know how to value. I pray God to forgive me the many light things I have both faid and thought of him and his labours. Hereafter I fhall confider him as a burning and a shining light, and as one of thofe who, having turned many to righteousness, shall shine hereafter as the stars forever and ever. So much for the state of my heart; as to my spirits I am cheerful and happy, and having peace with God, have peace within myfelf. For the continuance of this bleffing I trust to Him who gives it, and they who trust in Him fhall never be confounded. HUNTINGDON, At the Rev. Mr. Unwin's, March 11, 1766. Yours affectionately, WM. COWPER. LETTER V. To Mrs. COWPER, at the Park-Houfe, Hartford. April 4, 1766. MY DEAR COUSIN, I AGREE with you that letters are not effential to friendship, but they seem to be a natural fruit of it, when they are the only intercourse that can be had. And a friendship producing no fenfible effects is fo like indifference, that the appearance may easily. deceive even an acute difcerner. I retract however all that I faid in my laft upon this fubject, having reason to fufpect that it proceeded from a principle which I would difcourage in myfelf upon all occafions, even a pride that felt itfelf hurt upon a mere fufpicion of neglect. I have fo much caufe for humility, and fo much need of it too, and every little fneaking refentment is fuch an enemy to it, that I hope I fhall never give quarter to any thing that appears in the fhape of fullennefs or felf-confequence hereafter. Alas! if my best Friend, who laid down his life for me, were to remember all the inftances, in which I have neglected him, and to plead them againft me in judgment, where fhould I hide my guilty head in the day of recompenfe? I will pray therefore for bleffings upon my friends even though they ceafe to be fo, and upon my enemies though they continue fuch. The deceitfulnefs of the natural heart is inconceivable: I know well that I paffed upon my friends for a perfon at leaft religiously inclined, if not actually religious; and what is more wonderful, I thought myfelf a Christian, when I had no faith in Chrift, when I saw no beauty in him, that I fhould defire him, in fhort when I had neither faith nor love, nor any Christian grace whatever, but a thousand feeds of rebellion instead, ever more fpringing up in enmity against him. But bleffed be God, even the God who is become my falvation. The hail of affliction, and rebuke for fin has fwept away the refuge of lies. It pleased the Almighty in great mercy to fet all my mifdeeds before me. At length the storm being paft, a quiet and peaceful ferenity of foul fucceeded, fuch as ever attends the gift of lively faith in the all fufficient atonement, and the sweet fenfe of mercy and pardon purchased by the blood of Chrift. Thus did he break me, and bind me up, thus did he wound me, and his hands made me whole. My dear coufin, I make no apology for entertaining you with the hiftory of my converfion, because I know you to be a Christian in the |