of those I was acquainted with when you were here. Their name is Unwin-the most agreeable people imaginable; quite sociable, and as free from the ceremonious civility of country gentle-folks as any I ever met with. They treat me more like a near relation than a stranger, and their house is always open to me. The old gentleman carries me to Cambridge in his chaise. He is a man of learning and good sense, and as simple as Parson Adams. His wife has a very uncommon understanding, has read much, to excellent purpose, and is more polite than a duchThe son, who belongs to Cambridge, is a most amiable young man, and the daughter quite of a piece with the rest of the family. They see but little company, which suits me exactly; go when I will, I find a house full of peace and cordiality in all its parts, and am sure to hear no scandal, but such discourse instead of it as we are all ess. I find it impossible to proceed any longer in my present course without danger of bankruptcy. I have therefore entered into an agreement with the Rev. Mr. Unwin to lodge and board with him. The family are the most agreeable in the world. They live in a special good house, and in a very genteel way. They are all exactly what I would wish them to be, and I know I shall be as happy with them as I can be on this side of the sun. I did not dream of this matter till about five days ago: but now the whole is settled. I shall transfer myself thither as soon as I have satisfied all demands upon me here. Yours ever, TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.* W. C. Nov. 8, 1765. Dear 'Sephus,-Notwithstanding it is so better for. You remember Rousseau's de- agreeable a thing to read law lectures to the scription of an English morning;* such are students of Lyons' Inn, especially to the the mornings I spend with these good peo-reader himself, I must beg leave to waive it. ple, and the evenings differ from them in nothing, except that they are still more snug and quieter. Now I know them, I wonder that I liked Huntingdon so well before I knew them, and am apt to think I should find every place disagreeable that had not an Unwin belonging to it. This incident convinces me of the truth of an observation I have often made, that when we circumscribe our estimate of all that is clever within the limits of our own acquaintance (which I at least have been always apt to do) we are guilty of a very uncharitable censure upon the rest of the world, and of a narrowness of thinking disgraceful to ourselves. Wapping and Redriff may contain some of the most amiable persons living, and such as one would go to Wapping and Redriff to make acquaintance with. You remember Gray's stanza, Full many a gem of purest ray serene, W. C. Danby Pickering must be the happy man; and I heartily wish him joy of his deputyship. As to the treat, I think if it goes be fore the lecture, it will be apt to blunt the apprehension of the students; and, if it comes after, it may erase from their memowish therefore, that, for their benefit and be ries impressions so newly made. I could hoof, this circumstance were omitted. But, if it be absolutely necessary, I hope Mr. Salt, or whoever takes the conduct of it, will see that it be managed with the frugality and temperance becoming so learned a body. I shall be obliged to you if you will present my respects to Mr. Treasurer Salt, and exhad the trouble of sending me two letters press my concern at the same time that he upon this occasion. The first of them never came to hand. I shall be obliged to you if you will tell me whether my exchequer is full or empty, and whether the revenue of last year is yet come in, that I may proportion my payments to the exigencies of my affairs. My dear 'Sephus, give my love to your family, and believe me much obliged to you for your invitation. At present I am in such an unsettled condition, that I can think of nothing but laying the foundation of my future abode at Unwin's. My being admitted Dear Joe,-I wrote to you about ten days there is the effect of the great good nature ago, TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.† Soliciting a quick return of gold, Nov. 5, 1765. To purchase certain horse that likes me well. Either my letter or your answer to it, I fear, and friendly turn of that family, who, I have great reason to believe, are as desirous to do me service as they could be after a much Let your next, if it longer acquaintance. has miscarried. The former, I hope; becomes a week hence, be directed to me there. cause a miscarriage of the latter might be The greatest part of the law-books are attended with bad consequences. * Private correspondence. †The office of readership to this society had been of fered to Cowper, but was declined by him. Huntingdon, March 6, 1766. My dear Cousin, -I have for some time past imputed your silence to the cause which you yourself assign for it, viz., to my change of situation; and was even sagacious enough to account for the frequency of your letters to me while I lived alone, from your attention to me in a state of such solitude as seemed to take it an act of particular charity to write to me. I bless God for it, I was happy even then; solitude has nothing gloomy in it if the soul points upwards. St. Paul tells his Hebrew converts, "Ye are come (already come) to Mount Sion-to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly of the first-born, which are written in heaven, and to Jesus, the mediator of the new covenant." When this is the case, as surely it was with them, or the Spirit of Truth had never spoken it, there is an end of the melancholy and dulness of life at once. You will not suspect me, my dear cousin, of a design to understand this passage literally. But this however it certainly means, that a lively faith is able to anticipate, in some measure, the joys of that heavenly society which the soul shall actually possess hereafter. Since I have changed my situation, I have found still greater cause of thanksgiving to the Father of all Mercies. The family with whom I live are Christians, and it has pleased the Almighty to bring me. to the knowledge of them, that I may want no means of improvement in that temper and conduct which he is pleased to require in all his servants. My dear cousin, one half of the Christian world would call this madness, fanaticism, and folly but are not these things warranted by the word of God, not only in the passages I have cited, but in many others? If we have no communion with God here, surely we can expect none hereafter. A faith that does not place our conversation in heaven; that does not warm the heart and purify it too; that does not, in short, govern our thought, word, and deed, is no faith, nor will it obtain for us any spiritual blessing here or hereafter. Let us see therefore, my dear cousin, that we do not deceive ourselves in a matter of such infinite moment. The world will be ever telling us that we are good enough, and the world will vilify us behind our backs. But it is not the world which tries the heart, that is the prerogative of God alone. My dear cousin, I have often prayed for you behind your back, and now I pray for you to your face. There are many who would not forgive me this wrong, but I have known you so long and so well that I am not afraid of telling you how sincerely I wish for your growth in every Christian grace, in everything that may promote and secure your everlasting welfare. I am obliged to Mrs. Cowper for the book, which, you perceive, arrived safe. I am willing to consider it as an intimation on her part, that she would wish me to write to her, and shall do it accordingly. My circumstances are rather particular, such as call upon my friends, those, I mean, who are truly such, to take some little notice of me, and will naturally make those who are not such in sincerity, rather shy of doing it. To this I impute the silence of many with regard to me, who, before the affliction that befel me, were ready enough to converse with me. W. C. Yours ever, TO MRS. COWPER.* Huntingdon, March 11, 1766. My dear Cousin,—I am much obliged to you for Pearsall's Meditations, especially as it furnishes me with an occasion 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 so. The inference I am apt to draw from their silence is, that they wish me to be silent too. I have great reason, my dear cousin, to be thankful to the gracious Providence that conducted me to this place. The lady, in whose house I live, is so excellent a person, and regards me with a friendship so truly Christian, that I could almost fancy my own mother restored to life again, to compensate to me for all the friends I have lost, and all my connections broken. She has a son 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 considerable, and as to his virtues, I need only say that he is a Christian. It ought to be a matter of daily thanksgiving to me that I am admitted into the society of such persons, and I pray God to make me and keep me worthy of them. Your brother Martin has been very kind to me, having written to me twice in a style which, though it was once 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 said and thought of him and his labors. Hereafter I shall consider him as a *The wife of Major Cowper, and sister of the Rev. Martin Madan, minister of Lock Chapel. burning and a shining light, and as one of those 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 with myself. For the continuance of this blessing I | 'trust to Him who gives it, and they who trust in Him shall never be confounded. Yours affectionately, W. C. break me and bind me up, thus did he wound me and his hands made me whole. My dear Cousin, I make no apology for entertaining you with the history of my conversion, because I know you to be a Christian in the sterling import of the appellation. This is however but a very summary account of the matter, neither would a letter contain the astonishing particulars of it. If we ever meet again in this world, I will relate them to you by word of mouth; if not, they will serve for the subject of a conference in the next, where I doubt not I shall remember and record them with a gratitude better suited to the subject. Yours, my dear Cousin, affectionately, TO MRS. COWPER. W. C. TO MRS. COWPER. Huntingdon, April 4, 1766. My dear Cousin,-I agree with you that letters are not essential 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 sensible effects Huntingdon, April 17, 1766.. is so like indifference, that the appearance My dear Cousin,-As in matters unattainmay easily deceive even an acute discerner. able by reason and unrevealed in the ScripI retract however all that I said in my last ture, it is impossible to argue at all; so, in upon this subject, having reason to suspect matters concerning which reason can only that it proceeded from a principle which I give a probable guess, and the Scripture has would discourage in myself upon all occa- made no explicit discovery, it is, though not sions, even a pride that felt itself hurt upon impossible to argue at all, yet impossible to a mere, suspicion of neglect. I have so much argue to any certain conclusion. This seems cause for humility, and so much need of it to me to be the very case with the point in too, and every little sneaking resentment is question reason is able to form many such an enemy to it, that I hope I shall never plausible conjectures concerning the possi give quarter to anything that appears in the bility of our knowing each other in a future shape of sullenness or self-consequence here- state, and the Scripture has, here and there, after. Alas! if my best Friend, who laid favored us with an expression that looks at down his life for me, were to remember all least like a slight intimation of it; but bethe instances in which I have neglected him, cause a conjecture can never amount to a and to plead them against me in judgment, proof, and a slight intimation cannot be conwhere should I hide my guilty head in the strued into a positive assertion, therefore, I day of recompense? I will pray therefore think, we can never come to any absolute for blessings upon my friends, though they conclusion upon the subject. We may, incease to be so, and upon my enemies, though deed, reason about the plausibility of our they continue such. The deceitfulness of conjectures, and we may discuss, with great the natural heart is inconceivable; I know industry and shrewdness of argument, those well that I passed upon my friends for a per-passages in the Scripture which seem to fason at least religiously inclined, if not actually religious, and, what is more wonderful, I thought myself a Christian, when I had no faith in Christ, when I saw no beauty in him that I should desire him; in short, when I had neither faith, nor love, nor any Christian grace whatever, but a thousand seeds of rebellion instead, evermore springing up in enmity against him. But blessed be God, even the God who is become my salvation, the hail of affliction and rebuke for sin has swept away the refuge of lies. It pleased the Almighty, in great mercy, to set all my misdeeds before me. At length, the storm being past, a quiet and peaceful serenity of soul succeeded, such as ever attends the gift of living faith in the all-sufficient atonement, and the sweet sense of mercy and pardon purchased by the blood of Christ. Thus did he vor the opinion; but still, no certain means having been afforded us, no certain end can be attained; and, after all that can be said, it will still be doubtful whether we shall know each other or not. As to arguments founded upon human reason only, it would be easy to muster up a much greater number on the affirmative side of the question than it would be worth my while to write or yours to read. Let us see, therefore, what the Scripture says, or seems to say, towards the proof of it; and of this kind of argument also I shall insert but a few of those, which seem to me to be the fairest and clearest for the purpose. For, after all, a disputant on either side of this question, is in danger of that censure of our blessed Lord's, “Ye do err, not knowing the Scripture, nor the power of God." LIFE OF COWPER. As to parables, I know it has been said in the dispute concerning the intermediate state that they are not argumentative; but, this having been controverted by very wise and good men, and the parable of Dives and Lazarus having been used by such to prove an intermediate state, I see not why it may not be as fairly used for the proof of any other matter which it seems fairly to imply. In this parable we see that Dives is represented as knowing Lazarus, and Abraham as knowing them both, and the discourse between them is entirely concerning their respective characters and circumstances upon earth. Here, therefore, our Saviour seems to countenance the notion of a mutual knowledge and recollection; and, if a soul that has perished shall know the soul that is saved, surely the heirs of salvation shall know and recol lect each other. In the first epistle to the Thessalonians, the second chapter, and nineteenth verse, Saint Paul says, "What is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For ye are our glory and our joy.” As to the hope which the apostle had formed concerning them, he himself refers the accomplishment of it to the coming of Christ, meaning that then he should receive the recompence of his labors in their behalf; his joy and glory he refers likewise to the same period, both which would result from the sight of such numbers redeemed by the blessing of God upon his ministration, when he should present them before the great Judge, and say, in the words of a greater than himself, "Lo! I and the children whom thou hast given me." This seems to imply that the apostle should know the converts, and the converts the apostle, at least at the day of judgment, and, if then, why not afterwards? him; but you have whetted my curiosity to Yours, W. C. TO MRS. COWPER. Huntingdon, April 18, 1766. My dear Cousin,-Having gone as far as I thought needful to justify the opinion of our meeting and knowing each other hereafter, I find upon reflection that I have done but half my business, and that one of the questions you proposed remains entirely unconsidered, viz.," Whether the things of our present state will not be of too low and mean a nature to engage our thoughts or make a part of our communications in heaven." The common and ordinary occurrences of life, no doubt, and even the ties of kindred and of all temporal interests, will be entirely discarded from amongst that happy society, and, possibly, even the remembrance of them done away. But it does not therefore follow that our spiritual concerns, even in this life, will be forgotten, neither do I think, that they can ever appear trifling to us, in any the most distant period of eternity. God, as you say, in reference to the Scripture, will be all in all. But does not that expression mean that, being admitted to so near an approach to our heavenly Father and Redeemer, our whole nature, the soul, and all its faculties, will be employed in praising and adoring him? Doubtless, however, this will be the case, See also the fourth chapter of that epistle, and if so, will it not furnish out a glorious verses 13, 14, 16, which I have not room to theme of thanksgiving to recollect "the rock transcribe. Here the apostle comforts them whence we were hewn, and the hole of the under their affliction for their deceased breth-pit whence we were digged?"-to recollect ren, exhorting them "not to sorrow as without hope:" and what is the hope, by which he teaches them to support their spirits? Even this, "That them which sleep in Jesus shall God bring with him." In other words, and by a fair paraphrase surely, telling them they are only taken from them for a season, and that they should receive them at their resurrection. If you can take off the force of these texts, my dear cousin, you will go a great way towards shaking my opinion: if not, I think they must go a great way towards shaking yours. The reason why I did not send you my opinion of Pearsall was, because I had not then read him; I have read him since, and like him much, especially the latter part of the time, when our faith, which, under the be able to form a just one of the danger we have escaped; when we know how weak and frail we are, surely we shall be more able to render due praise and honor to his strength who fought for us; when we know completely the hatefulness of sin in the sight of God, and how deeply we were tainted by it, we shall know how to value the blood by which we were cleansed as we ought. The twentyfour elders, in the fifth of the Revelations, give glory to God for their redemption out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation. This surely implies a retrospect to their respective conditions upon earth, and that each remembered out of what particular kindred and nation he had been redeemed, and, if so, then surely the minutest circumstance of their redemption did not escape their memory. They who triumph over the Beast, in the fifteenth chapter, sing the song of Moses, the servant of God; and what was that song? A sublime record of Israel's deliverance and the destruction of her enemies in the Red Sea, typical, no doubt, of the song which the redeemed in Sion shall sing to celebrate their own salvation and the defeat of their spiritual enemies. This again implies a recollection of the dangers they had before encountered, and the supplies of strength and ardor they had, in every emergency, received from the great Deliverer out of all. These quotations do not, indeed, prove that their warfare upon earth includes a part of their converse with each other; but they prove that it is a theme not unworthy to be heard, even before the throne of God, and therefore it cannot be unfit for reciprocal communication. But you doubt whether there is any communication between the blessed at all, neither do I recollect any Scripture that proves it, or that bears any relation to the subject. But reason seems to require it so peremptorily, that a society without social intercourse seems to be a solecism and a contradiction in terms; and the inhabitants of those regions are called, you know, in Scripture, an innumerable company, and an assembly, which seems to convey the idea of society as clearly as the word itself. Human testimony weighs but little in matters of this sort, but let it have all the weight it can. I know no greater names in divinity than Watts and Doddridge: they were both of this opinion, and I send you the words of the latter. "Our companions in glory may probably assist us by their wise and good observations, when we come to make the providence of God here upon earth, under the guidance and direction of our Lord Jesus Christ, the subject of our mutual converse." Thus, my dear cousin, I have spread out my reasons before you for an opinion, which, Huntingdon, Sept. 3, 1766. My dear Cousin, It is reckoned, you know, a great achievement to silence an opponent in disputation, and your silence was of so long a continuance, that I might well begin to please myself with the apprehension of having accomplished so arduous a matter. To be serious, however, I am not sorry that what I have said concerning our knowledge of each other in a future state has a little inclined you to the affirmative. For though the redeemed of the Lord shall be sure of being as happy in that state as infinite power employed by infinite goodness can make them, and therefore it may seem immaterial whether we shall, or shall not, recollect each other hereafter; yet our present happiness at least is a little interested in the question. A parent, a friend, a wife, must needs, I think, feel a little heart-ache at the thought of an eternal separation from the objects of her regard: and not to know them when she meets them in another life, or never to meet them at all, amounts, though not altogether, yet nearly to the same thing. Remember them, I think she needs must. To hear that they are happy, will indeed be no small addition to her own felicity; but to see them so will surely be a greater. Thus, at least, it appears to our present human apprehension; consequently, therefore, to think that, when we leave them, we lose them forever; that we must remain eternally ignorant whether they that were flesh of our flesh, and bone of our bone, partake with us of celestial glory, or are disinherited of their heavenly portion, must shed a dismal gloom over all our present connections. For my own part, this life is such a momentary thing, and all its interests have so shrunk in my estimation, since, by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, I became attentive to the things of another; that, like a worm in the bud of all my friendships and affections, this very thought would eat out the heart of them all had I a thousand; and were their date to terminate with this life, I think I should have no inclination to cultivate and improve such a fugitive business. Yet friendship is necessary to our happiness here, and, built upon Christian principles, upon which only it can stand, is a |