is the damage. I have a thousand reasons to lament that the time approaches when we must lose her. She has made a winterly summer a most delightful one, but the winter itself we must spend without her.

W. C.

The Letters which I have just imparted to my reader, exhibit a picture so minute, and so admirable, of the life, the studies, and the affections of Cowper, during the period to which they relate, that they require no comment from his Biographer. They must render all who read them, intimately acquainted with the Writer, and the result of such intimacy must be, what it is at once my duty, and my delight to promote, an increase of public affection for his enchanting character, an effect, which all his posthumous compositions are excellently suited to extend and confirm.

It is now incumbent on me to relate the consequences of a visit, so fondly expected by the Poet, and happily productive of a change in his local situation.

It does not always happen, when the heart and fancy have indulged themselves, with such fervency, in a prospect of delight, from the renewed society of a long absent friend, it does not always happen, that the pleasure, on its arrival, proves exactly what it promised to be on its approach. But in the present case, to the

honour

honour of the two friends concerned, the delightful vision was followed by a reality of delight. Cowper was truly happy in re

ceiving, and settling his beloved, though long unseen, relation, as his neighbour; she was comfortably lodged in the Vicarage of Olney, a mansion so near to his residence, and so commodious from the private communication between their two houses, that the long separated, and most seasonably re-united friends, here enjoyed all the easy intercourse of a domestic union.

His

Cowper derived from this fortunate event not only the advantage of daily conversation with another cultivated mind, in affectionate unison with his own, but, as his new neighbour had brought her carriage and horses to Olney, he was gradually tempted to survey, in a wider range, the face of a country, that he loved, and to mix, a little more, with its most worthy inhabitants. life had been so retired at Olney, that he had not even extended his excursions to the neighbouring town of Newport-Pagnell, in the course of many years; but the convenience of a carriage induced him, in August, to visit Mr. Bull, who resided there—the friend, to whose assiduous attention he had felt himself much obliged in a season of mental depression. A few Letters of Cowper to this gentleman are so expressive of cordial esteem, and so agreeably illustrate the character of each, that I shall take this opportu-` nity of making a short selection from the private papers, of which the kindness of the person, to whom they are addressed, has

enabled

enabled me to avail myself. When Cowper published the first Volume of his Poems, Mr. Bull wrote to him on the occasion: The answer of the Poet, March 24, 1782, I rescrve for a future part of my Work. A subsequent Letter, dated October 27th, in the same year, opens with this lively paragraph:—

66

"Mon aimable and très cher Ami,

"It is not in the power of chaises, or "chariots, to carry you, where my affections will not follow you; “if I heard, that you were gone to finish your days in the Moon, "I should not love you the less; but should contemplate the place " of your abode, as often as it appeared in the Heavens, and say, Farewell, my Friend, for ever! Lost, but not forgotten! Live happy in thy lantern, and smoke the remainder of thy pipes in peace! Thou art rid of earth, at least of all its cares, and so far "can I rejoice in thy removal; and as to the cares that are to be "found in the Moon, I am resolved to suppose them lighter than "those below-heavier they can hardly be.”

66

66

The Letter closes with a sentence that ascertains the date of those translations from the Poetry of Madame Guion, which I have already mentioned, as executed at the request of Mr. Bull.— "Madame Guion is finished, but not quite transcribed." In a subsequent Letter he speaks of these, and of other Poems. I transcribe the passage, and a preceding paragraph, in which he

expatiates

"waters.

expatiates on thunder-storms with the feelings of a Poet, and with his usual felicity of expression." I was always an admirer of thunder-storms, even before I knew, whose voice I heard in them; but especially an admirer of thunder rolling over the great There is something singularly majestic in the sound of it "at sea, where the eye and the ear have uninterrupted opportunity "of observation, and the concavity above being made spacious, "reflects it with more advantage. I have consequently envied "you your situation, and the enjoyment of those refreshing breezes, "that belong to it. We have indeed been regaled with some of "these bursts of ætherial music.—The peals have been as loud by "the report of a gentleman, who lived many years in the West"Indies, as were ever heard in those islands, and the flashes as splendid; but when the thunder preaches, an horizon bounded by the ocean is the only sounding-board."

66

"I have had but little leisure, strange as it may seem, and that "little I devoted for a month after your departure, to Madame "Guion. I have made fair copies of all the pieces I have produced "on this last occasion, and will put them into your hands, when we meet. They are yours, to serve you as you please; you may "take and leave as you like, for my purpose is already served; they have amused me, and I have no further demand upon them: "The Lines upon Friendship however, which were not sufficiently "of a piece with the others, will not now be wanted. I have

66

56

VOL. 1.

E &

some

"some other little things, which I will communicate, when time

66

shall serve; but I cannot now transcribe them,"

What the Author here modestly calls, "The Lines on Friendship," I regard as one of the most admirable among his minor Poems. Mr. Bull, who has been induced to print the translations from Madame Guion, by an apprehension of their being surreptitiously and inaccurately published, has inserted these stanzas on Friendship, in the little volume that he has recently imparted to the public, from the press of Newport-Pagnell; but as the Poem is singularly beautiful, and seems to have been re-touched by its Author, with an attention proportioned to its merit, I shall introduce it here in a corrected state, and notice such variations as I find in the two copies before me.