enced; nor is it surprising, that before his removal thence he should have lost them entirely. In his ninth year he was sent to Westminster School, then under the care of Dr. Nicholls; who, though an ingenious and learned man, was nevertheless a negligent tutor; and one that encouraged his pupils in habits of indolence, not a little injurious to their future welfare. Here he remained seven years, and had frequent reason to complain of the same unkind treatment from some of his schoolfellows, which he had experienced in the instance above alluded to. His timid, meek, and inoffensive spirit totally unfitted him for the hardships of a public school; and in all probability, the treatment he there received, produced in him an insuperable aversion to this method of instruction. We know but little of the actual progress he made while under the care of Dr. Nicholls; his subsequent eminence, however, as a scholar, proves that he must have been an attentive pupil, and must have made, at this period, a highly creditable proficiency in his studies. While at this school, he was roused a second time to serious consideration. Crossing a churchyard late one evening, he saw a glimmering light in rather a remote part of it, which so excited his curiosity as to induce him to approach it. Just as he arrived at the spot, a grave-digger, who was at work by the light of his lanthorn, threw up a skull-bone, which struck him on the leg. This little incident alarmed his conscience, and gave rise to many fearful reflections. The impression, however, was only temporary, and in a short time the event was entirely forgotten. On another occasion, not long afterwards, he again, at this early age, became the subject of religious impressions. It was the laudable practice of Dr. Nicholls to take great pains to prepare his pupils for confirmation. The Doctor acquitted himself of this duty like one who had a deep sense of its importance, and young Cowper was struck by his manner, and much affected by his exhortations. He now, for the first time in his life, attempted prayer in secret, but being little accustomed to that exercise of the heart, and having very childish notions of religion, he found it a difficult and painful task, and was even then alarmed at his own insensibility. These impressions, however, like those made upon his mind before, soon wore off, and he relapsed into a total forgetfulness of God, with the usual disadvantage of increased insensibility from having been softened to no purpose. This was evidently the case with him, for on being afterwards seized with the small-pox, though he was in the most imminent danger, yet neither in the course of the disease, nor during his recovery from it, had he any sentiments of contrition, or any thoughts of God or eternity. He, however, derived one advantage from it ;-it removed, to a great degree, if it did not entirely cure, the disease in his eyes; proving, as he afterwards observed in a letter to Mr. Hayley,' a better oculist than the lady who had had him under her care.' Such was the character of young Cowper, in his eighteenth year, when he left Westminster School, He had made a respectable proficiency in all his studies; but notwithstanding his previous serious impressions, he seems to have had scarcely any more knowledge of the nature of religion, or concern about it, than many other individuals have been known to feel at an early age, who have never afterwards given it the slightest attention. After spending six months at home, he was articled to a solicitor, with whom he was engaged to remain three years. In this gentleman's family, he neither saw nor heard any thing that could remind him of a single Christian duty: and here he might have lived utterly ignorant of the God that made him, had he not been providentially situated near his uncle's, in Southampton Row. At this favourite retreat he was permitted to spend all his leisure hours, which indeed was almost the whole of his time, as he was scarcely ever employed. With his uncle's family he passed nearly all his Sundays, and with some part of it he regularly attended public worship, but for which, probably, he would otherwise, owing to the force of evil example, have entirely neglected. The choice of a profession for a youth is ever of paramount importance; if injudiciously made, it not unfrequently lays the foundation for much future disappointment and sorrow. It would certainly have been difficult, and perhaps impossible, to have selected one more unsuitable to the mind of Cowper than that of the law. As Mr. Hayley justly observes, The law is a kind of soldiership, and, like the profession of arms, it may be said to require for the constitution of its heroes, 'A frame of adamant, a soul of fire.' 'The soul of Cowper had, indeed, its fire, but fire so refined and etherial, that it could not be expected to shine in the gross atmosphere of worldly contention.' Reserved to an unusual and extraordinary degree, he was ill-qualified to exhibit the activity unavoidably connected with this profession. Though he possessed peculiar powers of mind, and a richlycultivated understanding, yet were they combined with such extreme sensibility, as totally disqualified him for the bustle of the courts. An excessive tenderness, associated with a degree of shyness not easily to be accounted for, utterly unfitted him for a profession which would often have placed him before the public, and brought him into contact with individuals unembarrassed by such weaknesses. His extreme modesty, however, while it precluded the possibility of his being successful in this profession, endeared him inexpressibly to all who had the happiness to enjoy his society. Never was there a mind more admirably formed for communicating to others, in private life, the richest sources of enjoyment; and yet, such were the peculiarities of his nature, that often while he delighted and interested all around him, he was himself extremely unhappy. The following lines, composed by him about this time, are not less valuable for the developement they give of the state of his mind at this period, than they are remarkable for their exquisite tenderness and poetic beauty. Doomed as I am in solitude to waste The present moments, and regret the past; My friend torn from me, and my mistress lost; 1 Sir William Russell, Bart. CHAPTER II. Entrance at the Temple-Employment there-Depression of his mind-Religious impressions-Visit to Southampton-Sudden removal of sorrow-Death of his father-Appointment to the office of reading clerk to the House of Lords-Dread of appearing in public—— Consequent abandonment of the situation-Is proposed as Clerk of the Journals-Preparation for entering upon his office-Distressing sensations on the occasion -Is compelled to relinquish it-Serious attack of depression-Visit of his brother. AT the age of twenty-one, in 1752, Cowper left his late employer's house, and took possession of a set of chambers in the Inner Temple. Here he remained nearly twelve years; but such was his dislike to his professional studies, and so entirely did he confine himself. to literary pursuits, that it may be doubted whether, at the expiration of this lengthened period, he knew any more of the law than he did at its commencement. And as this may justly be considered the most valuable part of life, it must ever be regretted that he suffered it to pass away so unprofitably. During the whole of this important period he did scarcely any thing more than compose a few essays and poems, either to gratify or to assist some literary friend. Prompted by benevo |