William Cowper: A Bleak Life for God's Glory

While at Desiring God doing some research the other day, I came upon one of the series of biographies that John Piper wrote about the lives of Christians entitled The Swans Are Not Silent.  In Book Two, called The Hidden Smile of God, Piper compiles the stories of "The Fruit of Affliction in the Lives of John Bunyan, William Cowper, and David Brainerd."  I settled upon William Cowper's section, as it was the one I was interested in, and read.

I had heard his name before in relation to late 18th century Christians (such as his friendship with John Newton), but had not read of his life to any extent.  Born in 1731, Cowper lead a relatively quiet life in appearance, yet the internal life of his mind and soul seemed in constant torrent, unable to settle like waves in a storm.  His biography would challenge anyone who believes that Christ can save us from our afflictions and release us into a joy-filled life; his life could also be solid testimony to the Lord's firm grasp upon His chosen, even though that saint may flail and fail.  Cowper was afflicted with severe depression, one that never seemed to release him through his life.  He came to know Jesus in 1764 during a prolonged stay at an insane asylum, brought about by years of depression and suicidal tendencies.  God was drawing Him, and placed a Christian over his care, and placed a Bible in his path:

Having found a Bible on the bench in the garden, I opened upon the 11th of St. John, where Lazarus is raised from the dead; and saw so much benevolence, mercy, goodness, and sympathy with miserable men, in our Saviour’s conduct, that I almost shed tears upon the revelation; little thinking that it was an exact type of the mercy which Jesus was on the point of extending towards myself. I sighed, and said, “Oh, that I had not rejected so good a Redeemer, that I had not forfeited all his favours.” Thus was my heart softened, though not yet enlightened.

Immediately I received the strength to believe it, and the full beams of the Sun of Righteousness shone upon me. I saw the sufficiency of the atonement He had made, my pardon sealed in His blood, and all the fullness and completeness of His justification. In a moment I believed, and received the gospel. . . . Whatever my friend Madan had said to me, long before, revived in all its clearness, with demonstration of the spirit and with power. Unless the Almighty arm had been under me, I think I should have died with gratitude and joy. My eyes filled with tears, and my voice choked with transport; I could only look up to heaven in silent fear, overwhelmed with love and wonder (Thomas, William Cowper and the Eighteenth Century).

But things did not immediately turn well for him; there was no radical Scrooge-like change in temperament, nor could he attest that Jesus had "wiped away all his fears and sadness" like many testimonies we hear.  Cowper, for the remainder of his life, continued to battle with depression, hopelessness, darkness of soul, and suicidal attempts, until his death in 1800.  Piper puts it best by asking, "William Cowper’s melancholy is disturbing. We need to come to terms with it in the framework of God’s sovereign power and grace to save and sanctify His people. What are we to make of this man’s lifelong battle with depression, and indeed his apparent surrender to despair and hopelessness in his own life?"

It's a good question.  It's interesting to note, too, that many say of him that he was an excellent poet.  Samuel Taylor Coleridge said of Cowper that he was "the best modern poet," and Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote a poem about him entitled "Cowper's Grave."  His hymns, many of which he wrote with his friend John Newton, have lasted until today.  So what can be said about the lowness of Cowper's affliction and the influence of his art?  Why did God keep him so afflicted?  It seems that Cowper had a sense of what Paul would call "the thorn": the thing provided by God to one of His saints in order to keep him broken and weak, so that he may throw himself upon God as the source of life, and to find His grace sufficient.  Out of the crushing of Cowper's affliction came the sweet fragrance of his hymns and poetry.  One could certainly ask the question, Why couldn't his misery have been lifted just a bit, in a trade-off for a dozen hymns?  We don't know the answer.  Cowper himself wrote, "God’s ways are mysterious, and He giveth no account of His matters...  There is a mystery in my destruction, and in time it shall be explained."

In acknowledging those mysterious ways, Cowper wrote his most famous hymn, "God Moves in a Mysterious Way":

God moves in a mysterious way

His wonders to perform;

He plants his footsteps in the sea,

And rides upon the storm.

Deep in unfathomable mines

Of never-failing skill,

He treasures up his bright designs

And works his sovereign will.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,

The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break

In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,

But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour;

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower.

Blind unbelief is sure to err,

And scan his work in vain:

God is his own interpreter,

And He will make it plain.

It can be sorrowful for us to read of such a harsh life, yet it forces us to see that God's sovereign hand really is upon us all, keeping us and holding us and spurring us on for good works, whether each day is joyous to us, or whether each day is a daunting trial.  That God is still present in affliction is hopeful; that He is not only present, but very much using every affliction for His glory in our life is hopeful, too, but in a deeper, fuller, transcendent kind of way.  Can we keep this hope even though we may be consigned to the darkness of depression?  Can we see that in the darkness of depression something may be fragrant for His glory?  Can we trust Him to know what He's doing in the life of someone like William Cowper?  "Judge not the Lord by feeble sense,/But trust him for his grace;/Behind a frowning providence/He hides a smiling face."