But so it is-I am far, I know, very far, from being perfect in Christian love, or any other divine attainment, and am therefore unwilling to forego whatever may help me in my progress.

You are so kind as to enquire after my health, for which reason I must tell you, what otherwise would not be worth mentioning, that I have lately been just enough indisposed to convince me, that not only human life in general, but mine in particular, hangs by a slender thread. I am stout enough in appearance, yet a little illness demolishes me. I have had a severe shake, and the building is not so firm as it was. But I bless God for it, with all my heart. If the inner man be but strengthened, day by day, as I hope, under the renewing influences of the Holy Ghost, it will be, no matter how soon the outward is dissolved. He, who has, in a manner, raised me from the dead, in a literal sense, has given me the grace, I trust, to be ready at the shortest notice, to surrender up to him that life, which I have twice received from him. Whether I live or die, I desire

it

may be to His Glory, and it must be to my happiness. I thank God that I have those amongst my kindred, to whom I can write, without reserve, my sentiments upon this subject, as I do to you. A Let

ter upon any other subject is more insipid to me than ever my task was, when a school-boy, and I say not this in vain glory, God forbid! but to shew you what the Almighty, whose name I am unworthy to mention, has done for me, the chief of sinners. Once he was a terror to me, and his service, Oh what a weariness it was! Now I can say, I love him, and his holy name, and am never so happy as when I speak of his mercies to me.

I am very sorry for poor Charles's illness, and hope you will soon have cause to thank God for his complete recovery. We have an epidemical fever in this country likewise, which leaves behind it a continual sighing, almost to suffocation: not that I have seen any instance of it, for, blessed be God! our family have hitherto escaped it, but such was the account, I heard of it this morning.

I am obliged to you for the interest you take in my welfare, and for your enquiring, so particularly, after the manner, in which my time passes here. 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 murthering 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 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. After tea we sally forth to walk in good earnest. Mrs. Unwin isa 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. 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 very like a filial one for her, and her son and I are brothers. Blessed be the God of our salvation for such companions, and for such a life, above all for an heart to like it.

but

I have had many anxious thoughts about tak ing orders, and I believe every new convert is apt to think himself called upon for that purpose; it has pleased God, by means, which there is no need to particularize, to give me full satisfaction as to the propriety ofdeclining it; indeed, they who have

the least idea of what I have suffered, from the dread of public exhibitions, will readily excuse my never attempting them hereafter. In the mean time, if it please 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 unsuccessful. Had I the zeal of Moses, I should want, an Aaron to be my spokesman.

Yours ever, my dear Cousin,

MY DEAR COUSIN,

LETTER XXII.

W. C.

To Mrs. COWPER.

March 11, 1767.

To find those whom I love, clearly and strongly persuaded of evangelical truth, gives me a pleasure superior to any, this world can afford me. Judge then, whether 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