Not contented with this effort, nor thinking himself yet out of danger, he proceeded as fast as he could to a full gallop, rushed against the gate at the bottom of the lane, and opened it for himself, without perceiving that there was any gate there. Still he galloped, and with a velocity and momentum continually increasing, till he arrived in Olney. I had been in bed about ten minutes, when I heard the most uncommon and unaccountable noise that can be imagined. It was, in fact, occasioned by the clattering of tin pattypans and a Dutch-oven against the sides of the panniers. Much gingerbread was picked up in the street, and Mr. Lucy's windows were broken all to pieces. Had this been all, it would have been a comedy, but we learned the next morning, that the poor woman's collar-bone was broken, and she has hardly been able to resume her occupation since.

What is added on the other side, if I could have persuaded myself to write sooner, would have reached you sooner; 'tis about ten days old.

W. C. The next extracts from letters to his most intimate friend, to whom he was accustomed to lay open his whole soul, are of a more serious cast.

My dear Friend,-Were my letters composed of materials worthy of your acceptance, they should be longer. There is a subject upon which they who know themselves interested in it are never weary of writing. That subject is not within my reach; and there are few others that do not soon fatigue me. Upon these, however, I might possibly be more diffuse, could I forget that I am writing to you, to whom I think it just as improper and absurd to send a sheet full of trifles, as it would be to allow myself that liberty, were I writing to one of the four evangelists. But since you measure me with so much exactness, give me leave to requite you in your own way. Your manuscript, indeed, is close, and I do not reckon mine very lax. You make no margin, it is true; if you did, you would have need of their Lilliputian art, who can enclose the creed within the circle of a shilling; for, upon

* Vide Cowper's Poems, vol. i.

I have the

My dear Friend,-My device was intended to represent not my own heart, but the heart of a Christian, mourning and yet rejoicing, pierced with thorns, yet wreathed about with roses. thorn without the rose. My briar is a wintry one, the flowers are withered, but the thorn remains. My days are spent in vanity, and it is impossible for me to spend them otherwise. No man upon earth is more sensible of the unprofitableness of a life like mine, than I am, or groans more heavily under the burden; but this too is vanity, because it is in vain; my groans will not bring the remedy, because there is no remedy for me. The time when I seem to be most rationally employed, is when I am reading. My studies, however, are very much confined, and of little use, because I have no books but what I borrow, and nobody will lend me a memory. My own is almost worn out. I read the Biographia and the Review. If all the readers of the former had memories like mine, the compilers of that work would in vain have laboured to rescue the great names of past ages from oblivion, for what I read to-day, I forget to-morrow. A by-stander the book is always new;-but I beg the bymight say, This is rather an advantage. stander's pardon; I can recollect though I cannot remember, and with the book in my hand I recognise those passages which, without the book, I should never have thought of more. The Review pleases me most, because, if the contents escape me, I regret them less, being a very superci lious reader of most modern writers. Either I dislike the subject, or the manner of treating it; the style is affected, or the matter is disgusting.

I see

(though he was a learned man, and sometimes wrote like a wise one,) labouring under invincible prejudices against the truth and its professors; heterodox in his opinion upon some religious subjects, and reasoning most weakly in support of them. How has he toiled to prove that the perdition of the wicked is not eternal, that there may be repentance in hell, and that the devils may be saved at last: thus esta blishing, as far as in him lies, the belief of a purgatory, and approaching nearer to the church of Rome than ever any Methodist did, though papalizing is the crime with which he charges all of that denomination. When I think of him, I think too of

some who shall say hereafter, "Have we not prophesied in thy name, and in thy name done many wondrous works? Then shall he say unto them, Depart from me, for I never knew you." But perhaps he might be enlightened in his last moments, and saved in the very article of dissolution. It is much to be wished, and indeed hoped, that he was. Such a man reprobated in the great day, would be the most melancholy spectacle of all that shall stand at the left hand hereafter. But I do not think that many, or indeed any will be found there, who in their lives were sober, virtuous, and sincere, truly pious in the use of their little light, and though ignorant of God, in comparison of some others, yet sufficiently informed to know that He is to be feared, loved, and trusted. An operation is often performed within the curtains of a dying bed, in behalf of such men, that the nurse and the doctor (I mean the doctor and the nurse) have no suspicion of. The soul makes but one step out of darkness into light, and makes that step without a witness. My brother's case has made me very charitable in my opinion about the future state of such men.

We wait with anxiety to be informed what news you receive from Scotland. Present our love, if you please, to Miss Cunningham. I saw in the Gentleman's Magazine for last month, an account of a physician who has discovered a new method of treating consumptive cases, which has succeeded wonderfully in the trial. He finds the seat of the distemper in the stomach, and cures it principally by emetics. The old method of encountering the disorder has proved so unequal to the task, that I should be much inclined to any new practice that came well recommended. He is spoken of as a sensible and judicious man, but his name I have forgot. Yours, my dear Friend,

W. C.

From the great variety of interesting materials which lie before us, we hardly know what next to select. The following letter to the same inestimable correspondent, contains, however, so much that relates to the religious character of the writer, that it must not be omitted. It was written just before he was sinking into one of his seasons of gloom.

My dear Friend,-Within this hour arrived three sets of your new publication,

* Messiah.

for which we sincerely thank you. We have breakfasted since they came, and consequently, as you may suppose, have neither of us had yet an opportunity to make ourselves acquainted with the contents. I shall be happy (and when I say that, I mean to be understood in the fullest and most emphatical sense of the word) if my frame of mind shall be such as may permit me to study them. But Adam's approach to the tree of life, after he had sinned, was not more effectually prohibited by the flaming sword that turned every way, than mine to its great Antetype has been now almost these thirteen years, a short interval of three or four days, which passed about this time twelvemonth, alone excepted. For what reason it is that I am thus long excluded, if I am ever again to be admitted, is known to God only. I can say but this: that if he is still my Father, this paternal severity has, toward me, been such as that I have reason to account it unexampled. For though others have suffered desertion, yet few, I believe, for so long a time, and perhaps none a desertion accompanied with such experiences. But they have this belonging to them: that as they are not fit for recital, being made up merely of infernal ingredients, so neither are they susceptible of it; for I know no language in which they could be expressed. They are as truly things which it is not possible for man to utter, as those were which Paul heard and saw in the third heaven. If the ladder of Christian experience reaches, as I suppose it does, to the very presence of God, it has nevertheless its foot in the abyss. And if Paul stood, as no doubt he did, in that experience of his to which I have just alluded, on the topmost round of it, I have been standing, and still stand on the lowest, in this thirteenth year that has passed since I descended. In such a situation of mind, encompassed by the midnight of absolute despair, and a thousand times filled with unspeakable horror, I first commenced an author. Distress drove me to it; and the impossibility of subsisting without some employment, still recommends it. I am not, indeed, so perfectly hopeless as I was; but I am equally in need of an occupation, being often as much, and sometimes even more, worried than ever. I cannot amuse myself, as I once could, with carpenters' or with gardeners' tools, or with squirrels and guinea-pigs. At that time I was a child. But since it has pleased God, whatever else he withholds, to restore to me a man's mind, I have put away childish things. Thus far, therefore, it is plain that I have not chosen or prescribed to myself my own way, but have been providentially led to it: per

haps I might say, with equal propriety, compelled and scourged into it: for certainly, could I have made my choice, or were I permitted to make it even now, those hours which I spend in poetry I would spend with God. But it is evidently his will that I should spend them as I do, because every other way of employing them he himself continues to make impossible. If, in the course of such an occupation, or by inevitable consequence of it, either my former connexions are revived, or new ones occur, these things are as much a part of the dispensation as the leading points of it themselves; the effect, as much as the cause. If his purposes in thus directing me are gracious, he will take care to prove them such in the issue; and, in the mean time, will preserve me (for he is able to do that in one condition of life as in another) from all mistakes in conduct that might prove pernicious to myself, or give reasonable of fence to others. I can say it as truly as it was ever spoken,-Here I am: let him do with me as seemeth him good.

At present, however, I have no connexions, at which either you, I trust, or any who love me and wish me well, have occasion to conceive alarm. Much kindness indeed I have experienced at the hands of several, some of them near relations, others not related to me at all; but I do not know that there is among them a single person from whom I am likely to catch contamination. I can say of them all, with more truth than Jacob uttered when he called kid venison, "The Lord thy God brought them unto me." I could shew you among them two men, whose lives, though they have but little of what we call evangelical light, are ornaments to a Christian country; men who fear God more than some who even profess to love him. But I will not particularize farther on such a subject. Be they what they may, our situations are so distant, and we are likely to meet so seldom, that were they, as they are not, persons even of exceptionable manners, their manners would have little to do with me. We correspond, at present, only on the subject of what passed at Troy three thousand years ago; and they are matters that, if they can do no good, will at least hurt nobody. Your friendship for me, and the proof that I see of it in your friendly concern for my welfare on this occasion, demanded that I should be explicit. Assure your self that I love and honour you, as upon all accounts, so especially for the interest that you take, and have ever taken in my welfare, most sincerely. I wish you all happiness in your new abode, all possible success in your ministry, and much fruit of your newly-published labours; and

am, with Mrs. Unwin's love to yourself and Mrs. Newton, Most affectionately yours, My dear Friend,

W. C.

Our limits will not admit of much more quotation. We must however, in order to give a fair specimen of the volume, transcribe parts of one or two, of a different cast from the above. Our first is to his friend, Joseph Hill, Esq.

Nov. 11, 1782.

My Dear Friend-Your shocking scrawl, as you term it, was, however, a very welcome one. The character, indeed, has not quite the neatness and beauty of an engraving; but if it cost me some pains to decipher it, they were well rewarded by the minute information it conveyed. I am glad your health is such, that you have nothing more to complain of than may be expected on the down-hill side of life. If mine is better than yours, it is to be at tributed, I suppose, principally, to the constant enjoyment of country air and retirement; the most perfect regularity in matters of eating, drinking and sleeping; and a happy emancipation from every thing that wears the face of business. I lead the life I always wished for, and, the single circumstance of dependence ex cepted, (which, between ourselves, is very contrary to my predominant humour and disposition,) have no want left broad enough for another wish to stand upon.

You may not, perhaps, live to see your trees attain to the dignity of timber-I nevertheless, approve of your planting, and the disinterested spirit that prompts you to it. Few people plant, when they are young; a thousand other less profitable amusements divert their attention: and most people, when the date of youth is once expired, think it too late to begin. I can tell you, however, for your comfort and encouragement, that when a grove, which Major Cowper had planted, was of eighteen years' growth, it was no small ornament to his grounds, and afforded as complete a shade as could be desired. Were I as old as your mother, in whose longevity I rejoice, and the more, because I consider it as, in some sort, a pledge and assurance of yours, and should come to the possession of land worth planting, I would begin to-morrow, and even without previously insisting upon a bond from Providence that I should live five years longer.

We close with another letter to the same person, dated March 14, 1782.

My Dear Friend-As servant-maids, and such sort of folks, account a letter good for nothing, unless it begins with-This comes hoping you are well, as I am at this present: so I should be chargeable with a great omission, were I not to make frequent use of the following grateful exordium-Many thanks for a fine cod and oysters. Your bounty never arrived more seasonably. I had just been observing, that among other deplorable effects of the war, the scarcity of fish which it occasioned, was severely felt at Olney: but your plentiful supply immediately reconciled me, though not to the war, yet to my small share in the calamities it produces. I hope my bookseller has paid due at tention to the order I gave him to furnish you with my books. The composition of those pieces afforded me an agreeable amusement at intervals, for about a twelvemonth; and I should be glad to devote to the same occupation; at least, if my lucubrations should meet with a favourable acceptance. But I cannot write when I would; and whether I shall find readers, is a problem not yet decided. So the Muse and I are parted for the present. I sent Lord Thurlow a volume, and the following letter with it, which I communicate because you will undoubtedly have some curiosity to see it.*

the leisure hours of another twelvemonth

Since the foregoing article was prepared, we have received the

Eclectic Review for March.-We find in it very able review of this volume of Cowper's letters. It contains, in particular, the most satisfactory confutation we have ever seen of the groundless notion that the peculiarities of Cowper's religious creed were the cause, or the fuel, of that dreadful mental malady, under which this interesting man so long and so grievously suf fered. Nor is it sparing in the severity of its strictures on Hayley, for his contributing to throw an air of mystery over this whole subject, and thereby to mislead his readers; when the publication of some of the letters contained in this volume, and which were in Hayley's possession, would have gone far to clear up the whole. As we believe that our readers generally, will not soon

For the letter to Lord Thurlow, see Cowper's Letters, vol. i. page 192.

We have just perused a pamphlet of 35 pages under the foregoing title. Its design appears to be, to give a clear and concise view of the doctrines which are embraced by Unitarians, in comparison with what the Bible says of those doctrines. To do this in the most natural and unexceptionable way, short extracts are taken from the most distinguished Unitarian authors both in Europe and America, and these extracts accompanied with appropriate and pertinent passages of scripture, without remark or comment. Such a method seems to be peculiarly fitted to benefit the great mass of the community, who this subject, and who have too little are very imperfectly informed upon leisure or patience to make a thowill, we think, receive an extensive rough investigation. This tract

circulation. From the consideration of its value and probable usefulness at the present time, when "error is stalking abroad in our land," and from a desire to contribute to make it more extensively known, we insert this notice, and shall only add a single extract from the first and second pages of the pamphlet, as a specimen of the manner in which the writer treats

his subject.

SECTION I.

INSPIRATION AND AUTHORITY OF THE

SCRIPTURES.

European Unitarian Writers.

"The writers of the books of scripture were men, and therefore

fallible."-Priestley's Letters to a Philos. Unbeliev. Part. 2. Preface. "Like all other historians they were liable to mistakes with respect to things of small moment, because they did not give sufficient attention to them."Same work. Pref. "I think I have often shown that the apostle Paul often reasons inconclusively; and therefore that he wrote, as any other person of his turn of mind, and thinking, and in his situation would have written, without any particular inspiration," -Priestley's Hist. Corrup. Christianity, vol. 2. p. 370.

Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit which is of God; that we might know the things that are freely given to us of God. Which things also we speak, not in the words which man's wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth.-1 Cor. ii. 12, 13.

"The scriptures were written without any particular inspiration by men who wrote according to the best of their knowledge, and who from their circumstances could not be mistaken with respect to the greater facts of which they were proper witnesses; but (like other men subject to prejudice) might be

liable to adopt a hasty and ill grounded opinion concerning things which did not fall within the compass of their own knowledge." Priestley's Hist. Early Opinions, vol. iv. p. 4, 5.

All scripture is given by inspiration of God. 2 Tim. iii. 16.

"The scriptures contain a very faithful and credible account of the Christian doctrine which is the true word of God; BUT THEY ARE NOT THEMSELVES THE WORD OF GOD, nor do they ever assume that title: and it is highly improper to speak of them as such, as it leads inattentive readers to suppose they are written under a plenary inspiration, to which they make no pretensions.” -Belsham's Rev. of Wilberforce, &c. Letter I.

The word of God is quick and power. ful. Heb. iv. 12.

Not handling the word of God deceit. fully. 2 Cor. iv. 2.

When ye received the word of God which ye heard of us, ye received it not as the word of men, but as it is in truth the word of God.-1 Thess. ii. 13.

"The Evangelical histories contain gross and irreconcilable contradictions."--Evanson's Dissonance, p. 1.

Proposals are issued by A. Finley, Philadelphia, for publishing by subscription, at $1.50 in boards, or $2.00 bound, Grotius on the Truth of the Christian Reli. gion; with notes &c. by Mr. Le Clerc. Translated by John Clark, D.D. Dean of Sarum, from the fourteenth English edition. He will also shortly publish, Astronomical Recreations, or Sketches of the Relative Position and Mythological History of the Constellations-with numerous plates. A work of this kind will, we think, be very acceptable to our colleges and academies.

We are glad to find that Mr. William W. Woodward of this city is about to pub. lish a portable edition of Scott's Family Bible. It is to be printed in six small volumes, and at such a price as renders it accessible to those who may be unable to

purchase the octavo or quarto form of this valuable work. We cordially wish this enterprising publisher success in his useful undertaking.

The first number of a newspaper, printed in modern Greek, has just arrived in England. The types were sent from that country by the Greek committee.

Painted Carpets, bearing a strong resemblance to the richest Brussels carpets,

are now manufactured in Boston.

Wood Screws. It is with pleasure we mention, that the wood screw manufactory of Messrs. Phillips & Co. is now in complete operation at Phillipsburg in Centre county, Penn. and in all probability will be able to supply almost the whole United States with that useful article, with which we have hitherto been supplied from Eng