DEAR JOE,

XXXV.-To JOSEPH HILL, Esq.

Sept. 25, 1770.

I have not done conversing with terrestrial objects, though I should be happy were I able to hold more continual converse with a Friend above the skies. He has my heart, but he allows a corner in it for all who show me kindness, and therefore one for you. The storm of sixty-three made a wreck of the friendships I had contracted in the course of many years, yours excepted, which has survived the tempest.

I thank you for your repeated invitation. Singular thanks are due to you for so singular an instance of your regard. I could not leave Olney, unless in a case of absolute necessity, without much inconvenience to myself and others.

W. C.

In his sequestered life, he seems to have been much consoled and entertained by the society of his pious friend Mr. Newton, in whose religious pursuits he appears to have taken an active part, by the composition of sixty-eight hymns. Mr. Newton wished and expected him to have contributed a much larger number, as he has declared in the Preface to that collection of Hymns which contains those devotional effusions of Cowper, distinguished by the initial letter of his name. The volume, composed for the inhabitants of Olney, was the joint production of the divine and the poet, and intended, as the former expressly says in his Preface, "As a monument to perpetuate the remembrance of an intimate and endeared friendship. With this pleasing view," continues Mr. Newton, " I entered upon my part, which would have been smaller than it is, and the book would have appeared much sooner, and in a very different form, if the wise, though mysterious providence of God had not seen fit to cross my wishes. We had not proceeded far upon our proposed plan before my dear friend was prevented, by a long and affecting indisposition, from affording me any further assistance." The severe illness of the poet, to which these expressions relate, began in 1773, and extended, with brief intervals of brighter health, beyond the date of the Preface (from which they are quoted), February 15, 1779.

These social labours of the poet with an exemplary man of God, for the purpose of promoting simple piety among the lower classes of the people, must have been delightful in a high degree to the benevolent heart of Cowper; and I am persuaded he alludes to his own feelings on this subject in the following passage from his Poem on Conversation:

True bliss, if man may reach it, is composed

Of hearts in union mutually disclosed:

And farewell else all hope of pure delight!

Those hearts should be reclaim'd, renew'd, upright;

Bad men, profaning friendship's hallow'd name,
Form, in its stead, a covenant of shame:

But souls that carry on a blest exchange
Of joys they meet with in their heavenly range,
And with a fearless confidence make known
The sorrows Sympathy esteems its own,
Daily derive increasing light and force

From such communion; in their pleasant course,
Feel less the journey's roughness and its length;
Meet their opposers with united strength;
And one in heart, in interest, and design,

Gird up each other to the race divine.

Such fellowship in literary labour, for the noblest of purposes, must be delightful indeed if attended with success; and at all events it is entitled to respect; yet it may be doubtful if the intense zeal with which Cowper embarked in this fascinating pursuit, had not a dangerous tendency to undermine his very delicate health.

Such an apprehension naturally arises from a recollection of what medical writers of great ability have said on the awful subject of mental derangement. Whenever the slightest tendency to that misfortune appears, it seems expedient to guard a tender spirit from the attractions of Piety herself. So fearfully and wonderfully are we made, that man in all conditions ought perhaps to pray that he never may be led to think of his Creator and of his Redeemer, either too lightly or too intensely; since human misery is often seen to arise equally from an utter neglect of all spiritual concerns, and from a wild extravagance of devotion.

But if the charitable and religious zeal of the poet led him into any excesses of devotion, injurious to the extreme delicacy of his nervous system, he is only the more entitled to admiration and to pity. Indeed his genius, his virtues, and his misfortunes, were calculated to excite those tender and temperate passions in their purest state, and to the highest degree. It may be questioned, if any mortal could be more sincerely beloved and revered than Cowper was by those who were best acquainted with his private hours.

The season was now arrived when the firm friendship of Mrs. Unwin was put to the severest of trials, and when her conduct was such as to deserve those rare rewards of grateful attention and tenderness which, when she herself became the victim of age and infirmity, she received from that exemplary being who considered himself indebted to her friendly vigilance for his life, and who never forgot an obligation when his mind was itself.

In 1773, he sunk into such severe paroxysms of religious despondency, that he required an attendant of the most gentle, vigilant, and inflexible spirit. Such an attendant he found in that faithful guardian whom he had professed to love as a mother, and who watched over him during this long fit of depressive malady, extended through several years, with that perfect mixture of tenderness and fortitude, which constitutes the inestimable influence of maternal protection. I wish to pass rapidly over this calamitous period, and

shall only observe, that nothing could surpass the sufferings of the patient, or excel the care of the nurse. For that meritorious care she received from Heaven the most delightful of rewards, in seeing the pure and powerful mind, to whose restoration she had contributed so much, not only gradually restored to the common enjoyments of life, but successively endowed with new and marvellous funds of diversified talents, and courageous application.

The spirit of Cowper emerged by slow degrees from its very deep dejection; and before his mind was sufficiently recovered to employ itself on literary composition, it sought and found much salutary amusement in educating a little group of tame hares. On his expressing a wish to divert himself by rearing a single leveret, the good-nature of his neighbours supplied him with three. The variety of their dispositions became a source of great entertainment to his compassionate and contemplative spirit. One of the trio he has celebrated in The Task,' and a very animated minute account of this singular family, humanized, and described most admirably by himself, in prose, appeared first in the Gentleman's Magazine, and has been recently inserted in the second volume of his Poems.

His three tame hares, Mrs. Unwin, and Mr. Newton, were, for a considerable time, the only companions of Cowper; but as Mr. Newton was removed to a distance from his afflicted friend, by preferment in London, to which he was presented by that liberal encourager of active piety Mr. Thornton; the friendly divine, before he left Olney, in 1780, humanely triumphed over the strong reluctance of Cowper to see a stranger, and kindly introduced him to the regard and good offices of the Rev. Mr. Bull of Newport-Pagnell, who, from that time considering it as a duty to visit the invalid once a fortnight, acquired, by degrees, his cordial and confidential esteem.

The affectionate temper of Cowper inclined him particularly to exert his talents at the request of his friends; even in seasons when such exertion could hardly have been made without a painful degree of self-command.

At the suggestion of Mr. Newton, we have seen him writing a series of Hymns; at the request of Mr. Bull, he translated several spiritual Songs from the mystical poetry of Madame de la Mothe Guyon, the tender and fanciful enthusiast of France, whose talents and misfortunes drew upon her a long series of persecution from many acrimonious bigots, and secured to her the friendship of the mild and indulgent Fenelon.

We shall perceive, as we advance, that the greater works of Cowper were also written at the express desire of persons whom he particularly regarded; and it may be remarked, to the honour of friendship, that he considered its influence as the happiest inspiration; or, to use his own expressive words,

The poet's lyre, to fix his fame,

Should be the poet's heart;
Affection lights a brighter flame
Than ever blazed by art.

The poetry of Cowper is in itself an admirable illustration of this maxim; and perhaps the maxim may point to the prime source of that uncommon force and facility with which this most feeling poet commands the affection of his readers.

In delineating the life of an author, it seems the duty of biography to indicate the degree of influence which the warmth of his heart produced on the fertility of his mind. But those mingled flames of friendship and poetry, which were to burst forth with the most powerful effect in the compositions of Cowper, were not yet kindled. His depressive malady had suspended the exercise of his genius for several years, and precluded him from renewing his correspondence with the relation whom he so cordially regarded in Hertfordshire; except by brief letters on pecuniary concerns.

The first of the letters very kindly imparted to me by Mr. Unwin (after the first publication of this life), is a proof that the long-suffering recluse at Olney had regained, in a great measure, the use of his admirable faculties in the summer of 1778. In beginning to blend the letters to the Rev. William Unwin with the former series of Cowper's correspondence, I cannot refrain from observing, that the affectionate esteem and unbounded confidence with which he most deservedly honoured his young and amiable correspondent, give a peculiar charm to these letters, displaying, without a shadow of reserve, the whole heart and mind of the poet.

XXXVI. TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

DEAR UNWIN,

June 18, 1778.

I feel myself much obliged to you for your kind intimation, and have given the subject of it all my best attention, both before I received your letter and since. The result is, that I am persuaded it will be better not to write. I know the man and his disposition well, he is very liberal in his way of thinking, generous and discerning. He is well aware of the tricks that are played upon such occasions; and, after fifteen years' interruption of all intercourse between us, would translate my letter into this language-pray remember the poor. This would disgust him, because he would think our former intimacy disgraced by such an oblique application. He has not forgotten me, and if he had, there are those about him who cannot come into his presence without reminding him of me, and he is also perfectly acquainted with my circumstances. would perhaps give him pleasure to surprise me with a benefit; and if he means me such a favour, I should disappoint him by asking it. I repeat my thanks for your suggestion; you see a part of my reasons for thus conducting myself; if we were together, I could give Yours, affectionately,

you more.

W. C.

It

The conduct of Cowper towards his early and eminent friend Thurlow, to whom the last letter alludes, was in all seasons of his life a singular mixture of delicate reserve and fervent affection-yet painful moments sometimes occurred, when the tender recluse imagined that the busy and illustrious man of the world, who neglected to thank him for the first volume of his Poems, had utterly lost all regard for him.

This was far from being the case-It is true indeed, that a great pressure of business, and some degree of constitutional indolence, conspired to make Thurlow not so attentive to the associate of his youth as the friends of each had wished him to be; but the great lawyer ever retained for Cowper a most cordial esteem, and a very high opinion of his literary talents; in proof of this assertion I shall introduce, in a subsequent part of this work, a few letters from the Chancellor to the Poet.

XXXVII.-TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

May 26, 1779.

I

I am obliged to you for the Poets, and though I little thought that I was translating so much money out of your pocket into the bookseller's, when I turned Prior's poem into Latin, yet I must needs say, that, if you think it worth while to purchase the English Classics at all, you cannot possess yourself of them upon better terms. have looked into some of the volumes, but, not having yet finished the Register, have merely looked into them. A few things I have met with, which, if they had been burned the moment they were written, it would have been better for the author, and at least as well for his readers. There is not much of this, but a little too much. I think it a pity the editor admitted any; the English Muse would have lost no credit by the omission of such trash. Some of them, again, seem to me to have but a very disputable right to a place among the Classics; and I am quite at a loss, when I see them in such company, to conjecture what is Dr. Johnson's idea or definition of classical merit. But if he inserts the poems of some who can hardly be said to deserve such an honour, the purchaser may comfort himself with the hope that he will exclude none that do. W. C.

XXXVIII.-TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

Sept. 21, 1779.

Amico mio, be pleased to buy me a glazier's diamond pencil. I have glazed the two frames designed to receive my pine plants. But I cannot mend the kitchen windows till, by the help of that implement, I can reduce the glass to its proper dimensions. If I were a plumber I should be a complete glazier, and possibly the happy time may come when I shall be seen trudging away to the neighbouring towns with a shelf of glass hanging at my back. If