I shall send you up the sixth and seventh books of the Iliad shortly, and shall address them to you. You will forward them to the General. I long to show you my workshop, and to see you sitting on the opposite side of my table. We shall be as close packed as two wax figures in an old-fashioned pic ture-frame. I am writing in it now. It is the place in which I fabricate all my verse in summer time. I rose an hour sooner than usual, this morning, that I might finish my sheet before breakfast, for I niust write this day to the General. The grass under my windows is all bespangled with dew-drops, and the birds are singing in the apple-trees, among the blossoms. Never poet had a more commodious oratory, in which to invoke his muse. I have made your heart ache too often, my poor dear cousin, about my tits of dejection. Something has happened that has led me to the subject, or I would have mentioned them more sparingly. Do not suppose, or suspect, that I treat you with reserve; there is nothing in which I am concerned that you shall not be made acquainted with; but the tale is too long for a letter. I will only add, for your present satisfaction, that the cause is not exterior, that it is not within the reach of human aid, and that yet I have a hope myself, and Mrs. Unwin a strong persuasion, of its removal. I am indeed even now, and have been for a considable time, sensible of a change for the better, and expect, with good reason, a comfortable lift from you. Guess, then, my beloved cousin, with what wishes I look forward to the time of your arrival, from whose coming I promise myself not only pleasure but peace of mind, at least an additional share of it. At present it is an uncertain and transient guest with me, but the joy with which I shall see and converse with you at Olney may perhaps make it an abiding one. W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. Olney, June 4 and 5, 1786, Ah! my cousin, you begin already to fear and quake. What a hero am I, compared with you! I have no fears of you, on the contrary, am as bold as a lion. I wish that your carriage were even now at the door. You should see with how much courage I would face you. But what cause have you for fear? Am I not your cousin, with whom you have wandered in the fields of Free. mantle and at Bevis's Mount?-who used to read to you, laugh with you, till our sides have ached at anything or nothing? And am I in these respects at all altered? You will not find me so, but just as ready to laugh and to wander as you ever knew me. A cloud, perhaps, may come over me now and then, for a few hours, but from clouds I was never exempted. And are not you the identical cousin with whom I have performed all these feats? the very Harriet whom I saw, for the first time, at De Grey's, in Norfolk-street? (It was on a Sunday, when you came with my uncle and aunt to drink tea there, and I had dined there, and was just going back to Westminster.) If these things are so, and I am sure that you cannot gainsay a syllable of them all, then this consequence follows, that I do not promise myself more pleasure from your company than I shall be sure to find. Then you are my cousin, in whom I always delighted, and in whom I doubt not that I shall delight, even to my latest hour. But this wicked coachmaker has sunk my spirits. What a miserable thing it is to depend, in any degree, for the accomplishment of a wish, and that wish so fervent, on the punctuality of a creature, who, I suppose, was never punctual in his life! Do tell him, my dear, in order to quicken him, that if he performs his promise, he shall make my coach, when I want one, and that if he performs it not, I will most assuredly employ some other man. The Throckmortons sent us a note to invite us to dinner: we went, and a very agreeable day we had. They made no fuss with us, which I was heartily glad to see, for where I give trouble I am sure that I cannot be wel come. Themselves, and their chaplain, and we, were all the party. After dinner we had much cheerful and pleasant talk, the particulars of which might not perhaps be so entertaining upon paper, therefore, all but one I will omit, and that I will mention only be cause it will of itself be sufficient to give you an insight into their opinion on a very important subject-their own religion. I happened to say that in all professions and trades mankind affected an air of mystery. Physicians, I observed, in particular, were objects of that remark, who persist in prescribing in | Latin, many times, no doubt, to the hazard of a patient's life through the ignorance of an apothecary. Mr. Throckmorton assented to what I said, and, turning to his chaplain, to my infinite surprise observed to him, "That is just as absurd as our praying in Latin.” I could have hugged him for his liberality and freedom from bigotry, but thought it rather more decent to let the matter pass without any visible notice. I therefore heard it with pleasure, and kept my pleasure to myself. The two ladies in the meantime were iéte-àtête in the drawing-room. Their conversation turned principally (as I afterwards learned *This Mr. De Grey has been already mentioned. He rose to the dignity of Lord Chief Justice of the Common Pleas, and was finally created Lord Walsingham. † Ashley Cowper and his wife, Lady Hesketh's father and mother. from Mrs. Unwin) on a most delightful topic, viz., thyself. In the first place, Mrs. Throckmorton admired my book, from which she quoted by heart more than I could repeat, though I so lately wrote it. In short, my dear, I cannot proceed to relate what she said of the book and the book's author, for that abominable modesty that I cannot even yet get rof. Let it suffice to say, that you, who disposed to love everybody who speaks kindly of your cousin, will certainly love Mrs. Throckmorton, when you shall be told what she said of him, and that you will be told is equally certain, because it depends on Mrs. Unwin. It is a very convenient thing to have a Mrs. Unwin, who will tell you many a good long story for me, that I am not able to tell for myself. I am however not at all in arrears to our neighbors in matter of admiration and esteem, but the more I know the more I like them, and have nearly an affection for them both. I am delighted that "The Task" has so large a share of the approbation of your sensible Suffolk friend. I received yesterday from the General another letter of T. S. An unknown auxiliary having started up in my behalf, I believe I shall leave the business of answering to him, having no leisure myself for controversy. He lies very open to a very effectual reply. My dearest cousin, adieu! I hope to write to you once more before we meet. But oh! this coach-maker! and oh! this holiday week! Yours, with impatient desire to see you, W. C. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. Olney, June 9, 1786. My dear Friend,-The little time that I can devote to any other purpose than that of poetry, is, as you may suppose, stolen. Homer is urgent. Much is done, but much remains undone, and no school-boy is more attentive to the performance of his daily task than I am. You will therefore excuse me, if, at present, I am both unfrequent and short. The paper tells me that the Chancellor has relapsed, and I am truly sorry to hear it. The first attack was dangerous, but a second must be more formidable still. It is not probable that I should ever hear from him again if he survive; yet of the much that I should have felt for him, had our connexion never been interrupted, I still feel much. Everybody will feel the loss of a man, whose abilities have made him of such general importance. I correspond again with Colman, and upon the most friendly footing, and find in his instance, and in some others, that an intimate intercourse, which has been only casually suspended, not forfeited on either side by outrage, is capable not only of revival but improvement. I had a letter some time since from your sister Fanny, that gave me great pleasure. Such notices from old friends are always pleasant, and of such pleasures I have received many lately. They refresh the remembrance of early days, and make me young again. The noble institution of the Nonsense Club* will be forgotten when we are gone who composed it, but I often think of your most heroic line, written at one of our meetings, and especially think of it when I am translating Homer, "To whom replied the Devil yard-long-tail'd." There never was anything more truly Grecian than that triple epithet, and, were it possible to introduce it into either Iliad or Odyssey, I should certainly steal it. I am now flushed with expectation of Lady Hesketh, who spends the summer with us. We hope to see her next week. We have found adinirable lodgings both for her and her suite, and a Quaker in this town, still more admirable than they, who, as if he loved her as much as I do, furnishes them for her with real elegance. W. C. The period so long and so fervently expected at length approached. Lady Hesketh arrived at Olney in the middle of June, 1786. These two relatives and friends met together, after a separation of twenty-three years, anxious to testify to each other that time, "that great innovator," had left inviolate the claims of a friendship, which absence could not impair, because it was founded on esteem, and strengthened by the most endearing recollections. It does not always happen, when the mind has indulged in the anticipation of promised joy, that the result corresponds with the expectation. But in the present case the cherished hope was amply realized, though its first emotions were trying to the sensitive frame of Cowper. He was truly delighted in welcoming his endeared relative; and, as his own house was inadequate for her reception, Lady Hesketh was comforta bly lodged in the vicarage of Olney; a situtien so near to his own residence, and so eligible from the private communication between their two houses, as to admit of all the facilities of frequent intercourse and union. The influence of this event proved beneficial to the health and spirits of Cowper. The highly cultivated mind of Lady Hesketh, the charm of her manners, and her en *The club designated by this humorous title, was com posed of Westminster men, and included among its members, Bonnell Thornton, Colman, Lloyd, Hill, Bensley, and Cowper. They were accustomed to meet together for the purpose of literary relaxation and amusement. islands, and the flashes as splendid. But when the thunder preaches, an horizon bounded by the ocean is the only sounding-board."* dearing qualities, called forth the development of kindred feelings in his own character. As she was furnished with a carriage and horses, he was gradually induced to avail himself of this opportunity of explor- The visit of Lady Hesketh to Olney led to ing the neighborhood, and of multiplying his a very favorable change in the residence of innocent enjoyments. His life had been so Cowper. He had now passed nineteen years retired at Olney, that he had not even ex- in a scene that was far from being adapted tended his excursions to the neighboring to his taste and feelings. The house which town of Newport-Pagnell in the course of he inhabited looked on a market-place, and many years; but the convenience of a car- once, in a season of illness, he was so appreriage led him, in August, to visit Mr. Bull, hensive of being incommoded by the bustle who resided there--the friend from whose as- of a fair, that he requested to lodge for a siduous attention he derived so much benefit single night under the roof of his friend Mr. in a season of mental depression. It was at Newton, where he was induced, by the more his suggestion, as we have already stated, comfortable situation of the vicarage, to rethat Cowper engaged in the translation of main fourteen months. His intimacy with Madame Guion's Poems. As it is some time this excellent and highly esteemed character since we have had occasion to refer to this was so great that Mr. Newton has described justly esteemed character, we think the fol- it in the following remarkable terms, in melowing short letter, addressed to him by Cow-moirs of the poet, which affection induced per, will exhibit an amusing portrait of his character and habits. "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, forever! 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." We also add the following beautiful description of a thunder-storm, in a letter to the same person, expressed with the feelings of a poet, that knew how to embody the sublime in language of corresponding grandeur. "I was always an admirer of thunderstorms, even before I knew whose voice I heard in them; but especially an admirer of thunder rolling over the great waters. 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 ethereal 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 him to begin, but which the troubles and infirmities of very advanced life obliged him to relinquish. "For nearly twelve years we were seldom separated for seven hours at a time, when we were awake, and at home: the first six I passed in daily admiring, and aiming to imitate him: during the second six, I walked pensively with him in the valley of the shadow of death." Mr. Newton also bears the following honorable testimony to the pious and benevolent habits of Cowper. "He loved the poor. He often visited them in their cottages, conversed with them in the most condescending manner, sympathized with them, counselled and comforted them in their distresses; and those who were seriously disposed were often cheered and animated by his prayers!" These are pleasing memorials, for we believe that the cottages of the poor will ever be found to be the best school for the improvement of the heart. After the removal of Mr. Newton to London, and the departure of Lady Austen, Olney had no particular attractions for Cowper; and Lady Hesketh was happy in promoting the project, which had occurred to him, of removing with Mrs. Unwin to the near and picturesque village of Weston-a scene highly favorable to his health and amusement. For, with a very comfortable * There are few countries where a thunder-storm presents so sublime and terrific a spectacle as in Switzer land. The writer remembers once witnessing a scene of this kind in the Castle of Chillon, on the banks of the Lake of Geneva. The whole atmosphere seemed to be overcharged with the electric fluid. A stillness, like that of death, prevailed, forming a striking contrast with lightning at length burst forth, in vivid coruscations, like a flame of fire, darting upon the agitated waters; while the rain descended in torrents. Peals of thunder fol lowed, rolling over the wide expanse of the lake, and reechoing along the whole range of the Alps to the left; and then taking a complete circuit, finally passed over to the Jura, on the opposite side, impressing the mind with indescribable awe and admiration. the tumult of the elements that shortly succeeded. The house, it afforded him a garden, and a field of considerable extent, which he delighted to cultivate and embellish. With these he had advantages still more desirable-easy, and constant access to the spacious and tranquil pleasure-grounds of his accomplished and benevolent landlord, Mr. Throckmorton, whose neighboring house supplied him with an intercourse peculiarly suited to his gentle and delicate spirit. TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.* Olney, June 22, 1786. My dear Friend,-I am not glad that I am obliged to apologize for an interval of three weeks that have elapsed since the receipt of yours; but, not having it in my power to write oftener than I do, I am glad that my reason is such a one as you admit. In truth, my time is very much occupied; and the more because I not only have a long and laborious work in hand, for such it would prove at any rate, but because I make it a point to bestow my utmost attention upon it, and to give it all the finishing that the most scrupulous accuracy can command. As soon as breakfast is over, I retire to my nutshell of a summer-house, which is my versemanufactory, and here I abide seldom less than three hours, and not often more. In the afternoon I return to it again; and all the daylight that follows, except what is devoted to a walk, is given to Homer. It is well for me that a course which is now become necessary is so much my choice. The regu larity of it indeed has been, in the course of this last week, a little interrupted by the arrival of my dear cousin, Lady Hesketh; but Cowper removed from Olney to Weston in November, 1786. The course of his life, in his new situation, (the scene so happily embellished by his Muse,) will be best described by the subsequent series of his letters to that amiable relative, to whom he considered himself chiefly indebted for this improvement in his domestic scenery and comforts. With these will be connected a selection of his letters to other friends, and particularly the letters addressed to one of his most intimate correspondents, Samuel Rose, Esq., who commenced his acquaintance in the beginning of the year 1787. Another endeared character will also be introduced to the notice of the reader, whose affectionate and unremitting attention to the poet, when he most needed these kind and ten-with the new week I shall, as they say, turn der oflices, will ever give him a just title to the gratitude and love of the admirers of Cowper: we allude to the late Rev. Dr. Johnson. We now resume the correspondence. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. Olney, June 19, 1786. My dear cousin's arrival has, as it could not fail to do, made us happier than we ever were at Olney. Her great kindness in giving us her company is a cordial that I shall feel the effect of not only while she is here, but while I live. over a new leaf, and put myself under the same rigorous discipline as before. Something, and not a little, is due to the feelings that the sight of the kindest relation that ever man was blessed with must needs give birth to, after so long a separation. But she, whose anxiety for my success is I believe even greater than my own, will take care that I shall not play truant and neglect my proper business. It was an observation of a sensi ble man, whom I knew well in ancient days, (I mean when I was very young,) that people are never in reality happy when they boast much of being so. I feel myself accordingly Onley will not be much longer the place well content to say, without any enlargeof our habitation. At a village two miles ment on the subject, that an inquirer after distant we have hired a house of Mr. Throck-happiness might travel far, and not find a morton, a much better than we occupy at present, and yet not more expensive. It is situated very near to our most agreeable landlord and his agreeable pleasure-grounds. In him, and in his wife, we shall find such companions, as will always make the time pass pleasantly while they are in the country, and his grounds will afford us good air and good walking-room in the winter; two advantages which we have not enjoyed at Olney, where I have no neighbor with whom I can converse, and where, seven months in the year, I have been imprisoned by dirty and impassable ways, till both my health and Mrs. Unwin's have suffered materially. Homer is ever importunate, and will not suffer me to spend half the time with my distant friends that I would gladly give them. W. C. happier trio than meet every day either in our parlor, or in the parlor at the vicarage. I will not say that mine is not occasionally somewhat dashed with the sable hue of those notions concerning myself and my situation, that have occupied or rather possessed me so long: but, on the other hand, I can also affirm that my cousin's affectionate behavior to us both, the sweetness of her temper, and the sprightliness of her conversation, relieve me in no small degree from the presence of them. Mrs. Unwin is greatly pleased with your Sermons; and has told me so repeatedly; and the pleasure that they have given her awaits me also in due time, as I am well and confidently assured: both because the subject of them is the greatest and the most in* Private correspondence. teresting that can fall under the pen of any writer, and because no writer can be better qualified to discuss it judiciously and feelingly than yourself. The third set with which you favored us we destined to Lady Hesketh; and, in so disposing of them, are inclined to believe that we shall not err far from the mark at which you yourself directed them. Our affectionate remembrances attend yourself and Mrs. Newton, to which you acquired an everlasting right while you dwelt under the roof where we dined yesterday. It is impossible that we should set our foot over the threshold of the vicarage without recollecting all your kindness. Yours, my dear Friend, W. C. TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. shocked. In your eyes it had the appearance of a prison, and you sighed at the thought that your mother lived in it. Your view of it was not only just, but prophetic. It had not only the aspect of a place built for the purposes of incarceration, but has actually served that purpose through a long, long pe riod, and we have been the prisoners. But a jail-delivery is at hand. The bolts and bars are to be loosed, and we shall escape. A very different mansion, both in point of ap pearance and accommodation, expects us, and the expense of living in it not greater than we are subjected to in this. It is situated at Weston, one of the prettiest villages in England, and belongs to Mr. Throckmorton. We all three dine with him to-day by invitation, and shall survey it in the afternoon, point out the necessary repairs, and finally adjust the treaty. I have my cousin's promise that Olney, July 3, 1786. she will never let another year pass without My dear William,-After a long silence I a visit to us, and the house is large enough begin again. A day given to my friends is a to take us and our suite, and her also, with day taken from Homer; but to such an in- as many of hers as she shall choose to bring. terruption now and then occurring I have no The change will, I hope, prove advantageous objection. Lady Hesketh is, as you observe, both to your mother and me in all respects. arrived, and has been with us near a fort- Here we have no neighborhood; there we night. She pleases everybody, and is pleased, shall have most agreeable neighbors in the in her turn, with everything she finds at Ol- Throckmortons. Here we have a bad air ney, is always cheerful and sweet-tempered, in winter, impregnated with the fishy-smeland knows no pleasure equal to that of com-ling fumes of the marsh miasma; there we municating pleasure to us and to all around her. This disposition in her is the more comfortable, because it is not the humor of the day, a sudden flash of benevolence and good spirits occasioned merely by a change of scene, but it is her natural turn, and has governed all her conduct ever since I knew her first. We are consequently happy in her society, and shall be happier still to have you partake with us in our joy. I am fond of the sound of bells, but was never more pleased with those of Olney than when they rang her into her new habitation. It is a compliment that our performers upon those instru- I have hardly left myself room for an an ments have never paid to any other person-swer to your queries concerning my friend age (Lord Dartmouth excepted) since we John and his studies. I should recommend knew the town. In short, she is, as she ever the Civil War of Cæsar, because he wrote it was, my pride and my joy, and I am delighted who ranks, I believe, as the best writer, as with everything that means to do her honor. well as soldier, of his day. There are books Her first appearance was too much for me; (I know not what they are, but you do, and my spirits, instead of being gently raised, as can easily find them) that will inform him I had inadvertently supposed they would be, clearly of both the civil and military manage broke down with me under the pressure of ment of the Romans, the several officers, I too much joy, and left me flat, or rather mel- mean, in both departments, and what was the ancholy, throughout the day, to a degree that peculiar province of each. The study of was mortifying to myself and alarming to some such book would, I should think, prove her. But I have made amends for this failure a good introduction to that of Livy, unless since, and in point of cheerfulness have far you have a Livy with notes to that effect. exceeded her expectations, for she knew that A want of intelligence in those points has sable had been my suit for many years. heretofore made the Roman history very dark and diflicult to me; therefore I thus advise. Yours ever, W. C. And now I shall communicate news that will give you pleasure. When you first contemplated the front of our abode, you were shall breathe in an atmosphere untainted. Here we are confined from September to March, and sometimes longer; there we shall be upon the very verge of pleasure-grounds in which we can always ramble, and shall not wade through almost impassable dirt to get at them. Both your mother's constitution and mine have suffered materially, by such close and long confinement, and it is high time, unless we intend to retreat into the grave, that we should seek out a more wholesome residence. So far is well, the rest is left to Heaven. |