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conducted the extempore prayer-a terrible effort for so shy a man. exercise was also lost, for they had "sermon, or lecture, every evening which lasted till supper-time.' A great contrast to the peace and holy repose of the daily life whose details we gave on the last page.

This great religious excitement was followed by its inevitable reaction. Melancholy again seized on Cowper, as his desponding letters prove, and a real grief came to wound his affectionate heart in 1770, when he was called to attend the death-bed of his beloved brother John, who died at Cambridge.

In 1771, Cowper, at Mr. Newton's suggestion, began the Olney Hymns, but before the composition had advanced far he became a second time insane.

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"I was suddenly reduced," he remarked, writing in 1786, from my wonted rate of understanding to an almost childish imbecility. I did not lose my senses, but I lost the power to exercise them. I could return a rational answer even to a difficult question, but a question was necessary, or I never spoke at all. This state of mind was accompanied, as I suppose it to be in most instances of the kind, with misapprehension of things and persons, that made me a very intractable patient. I believed that everybody hated me, and that Mrs. Unwin hated me most of all; was convinced that all my food was poisoned, together with ten thousand megrims of the same stamp."

This affliction was the more terrible because he was at that time about to be married to Mrs. Unwin.* This fact, long doubted, is now well known. It was naturally to be expected that such a result would follow the closeness of their intimacy, and the similarity of their tastes and opinions. Cowper's madness took a most painful turn with regard to religion. The Calvinistic doctrine of the need of "assurance of salvation," was a peculiarly painful and dangerous one for his mind. His first illness had been one full of despair of his own salvation; the same terrible impression now overwhelmed him.

He believed that God required him to sacrifice his own life, and several times attempted suicide. He refused to pray, or to attend Divine service, nor would he visit the rectory, till one day having been induced to go there, he refused to leave it, and besought Newton with tears of anguish to let him remain. The generous curate consented, though the expense of the poor lunatic's living fell heavily on him; but Newtont was assisted in all his good works by one of the most liberal and benevolent

* Vide Mr. Bull's memorials of Cowper, in "John Newton."

The Rev. John Newton had been a sailor-a wild, dissipated one-and had been flogged for desertion. He had suffered horribly on a slave plantation in Sierra Leone, and was shipwrecked on his return. This event completely changed him. He styled it his "Great Deliverance," and from that time became an enthusiastic Calvinist; afterwards he commanded a slave-ship; then he became a tide-surveyor at Liverpool, where he became acquainted with Whitefield and Wesley, and in 1764 he entered the Church, being ordained to the curacy of Olney. The same year he became acquainted with Thornton, who continued his staunch, never-changing friend, perceiving how much good there was in him.

of men, Mr. Thornton, who had long allowed him 2001. a year to spend in Christian hospitality, and on his poor.

Newton treated his unhappy guest with great affection, and hailed with delight the first smile of the melancholy man.

Then he proposed that Cowper should return to his own home, and the patient eagerly consented.

During the whole period of his derangement Mrs. Unwin had manifested the most affectionate devotion to him. Her watchful care had preserved him from self-destruction, and day and night she had watched over him till he went to Newton's. Even then her tender care was continued for him, and on his return to her house she shared her smali income with him, and did all that was possible to cheer and sustain him. Gradually he grew bet er; occupied himself with gardening and carpentering, and amused himself with petting animals. He had, besides his three famous hares, five rabbits, two guinea-pigs, two dogs, a magpie, a jay, and other birds.

In September, 1779, Mr. Thornton presented Newton with the living of St. Mary Woolnoth, and the friends were separated; before Newton left he introduced Cowper to a Mr. Bull, an Independent preacher, who resided at Newport Pagnell, five miles from Olney

And now by degrees Cowper resumed his correspondence and began occasionally to write short poems. About this time his cousin, Mr. Madan, chaplain of the Lock Hospital, published a treatise called "Thelyphthora, or a Treatise on Marriage," remmending polygamy! and asserting that it was sanctioned by God Himself in the Holy Scriptures. Cowper and Newton were both greatly shocked by this development of Mr. Madan's views, and the former wrote, in answer to it, his little known, and very inferior poem, Antithelyphthora, which as his is inserted in this edition, but is quite unworthy of a place with his generally charming poems. It was published anonymously, 1781, and he never included it in his works himself.

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To Mrs. Unwin posterity is obliged for suggesting to him a worthier theme, and urging him to far superior endeavours. She suggested the Progress of Error," a moral satire, and Cowper at once began, and continued it enthusiastically. Then he wrote " Truth, Table Talk," and Expostulation," all these poems being completed in three months. He requested Newton to find him a publisher, and Newton carried the MSS. to John Johnson, his own publisher, who accepted them, and took all the risk; but he suggested that the book would require to be larger, and Cowper, at his request, wrote two more poems, "Hope," and "Charity." While the work was in the press he wrote "Conversation," and "Retirement." He requested Newton to write a preface, but the publisher refused to print it, as too serious in tone; it was, however, inserted in the fifth edition.

When the volume of poems had issued from the press, Cowper sent copies to his former old friends and schoolfellows, Lord Thurlow-now, as he had prophesied, Lord Chancellor-and Colman; but neither of them acknowledged the receipt of the gift, and some months after the poet,

very indignant at their unkind neglect, wrote the "Valediction." The book was not popular, and did not sell; it was destined to wait for its

successor.

A new acquaintance came to brighten Cowper's life, and inspire his Muse in 1781. While he was correcting the press of his first volume of poems, he observed from his window two ladies shopping at Olney in the heat of a summer afternoon. With one of them he was slightly acquainted; she was a Mrs. Jones, the wife of a clergyman residing at Clifton Reynes, about a mile from Olney; but the lady who was with her was so distinguished-looking, that she immediately attracted Cowper's notice. He heard that she was sister to Mrs. Jones, and the widow of a baronet, and he requested that Mrs. Unwin would ask them in to tea. The hospitality was gladly accepted-the ladies came, and though, afterwards, the poet was shy and reluctant to go into the room where they were, he was no sooner introduced to Lady Ansten, than he was captivated by her grace and wit, and from this period began an intimacy to which we owe "Johnny Gilpin" and the "Task."

One day, when Cowper was suffering from one of his fits of depression, his charming friend told him the story of "Johnny Gilpin," which actually kept him awake at night with convulsions of laughter, and which he the next morning turned into a ballad. It was sent to William Unwin, and printed soon after in the Public Advertiser. Three years afterwards Mr. Sharp saw it, and recommended it to Henderson, the actor, for "a reading." He perceived its capabilities-read it, and enchanted his audience, amongst whom was Mrs. Siddons.

Lady Austen then entreated Cowper to try his power at writing blank verse, and gave him for a subject the "Sofa" on which she was sitting. He accepted the suggestion, and began his great poem; but before it was finished his friendship with Lady Austen ended. Once before there had been coolness and estrangement, caused by some dissension between the ladies. Now the same cause led, it is believed, to this sad result for Cowper-for the friendship of this brilliant woman had been a source of mental health to him. That he sacrificed it to his gratitude to Mrs. Unwin for her former devotion we can have little doubt. We should have been glad if she had nobly forgotten self in this instance, and sought only the good of her friend. Hayley gives the following account of this circumstance:

"Cowper perceived the painful necessity of sacrificing a great portion of his present gratifications. He felt that he must relinquish that ancient friend, whom he regarded as a venerable parent; or the new associate, whom he idolised as a sister, of a heart and mind peculiarly congenial to his own. His gratitude for past services of unexampled magnitude and weight would not allow him to hesitate; with a resolution and delicacy, that do the highest honour to his feelings, he wrote a farewell letter to Lady Au ten, explaining and lamenting the circumstances that forced him to renounce the society of a friend, whose enchanting talents and kindness had proved so agreeably instrumental to the revival of his spirits, and to the exercise of his fancy.

"In those very interesting conferences with which I was honoured oy Lady Austen, I was irresistibly led to express an anxious desire for the sight of a letter written by Cowper in a situation that must have called forth all the finest powers of his eloquence as a monitor and a friend. The lady confirmed me in my opinion, that a more admirable letter could not be written; and had it existed at that time, I am persuaded, from her noble frankness and zeal for the honour of the departed poet, she would have given me a copy; but she ingenuously confessed that in a moment of natural mortification, she burnt this very tender, yet resolute letter. I mention the circumstance, because a literary correspondent, whom I have great reason to esteem, has recently expressed to me a wish (which may perhaps be general) that I could introduce into this compilation the letter in question. Had it been confided to my care, I am persuaded I should have thought it very proper for publication, as it displayed both the tenderness and the magnanimity of Cowper; nor could I have deemed it a want of delicacy towards the memory of Lady Austen to exhibit a proof that, animated by the warmest admiration of the great poet, whose fancy she could so successfully call forth, she was willing to devote her life and fortune to his service and protection. The sentiment is to be regarded as honourable to the lady; it is still more honourable to the poet, that with such feelings as rendered him perfectly sensible of all Lady Austen's fascinating powers, he could return her tenderness with innocent gallantry, and yet resolutely preclude himself from her society, when he could no longer enjoy it without appearing deficient in gratitude towards the compassionate and generous guardian of his sequestered life." Lady Austen afterwards married a Frenchman, M. de Tardieu.

About the time of Cowper's separation from Lady Austen he made the acquaintance of the Throckmortons, a family residing at Weston Underwood, a village about two miles from Olney.

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The " "Task was published by Johnson, who, in spite of the failure of the poet's first production, recognised and believed in his genius; but as it was again insufficient for a volume, the "Tirocinium,' John Gilpin," and an Epistle to his excellent friend Hill, were added. The new poems were published June, 1785, and the author was at once acknowledged as the first poet of the age. It was the already famous "John Gilpin" at first which attracted readers; then the excellence of the serious poems confirmed their admiration of the comic writer. The book rapidly passed intɔ a second edition, and next year the two volumes were published together. His success as a poet revived his relations with his family, who had been for some time estranged from him; and Cowper was in wild delight when at last he received a letter from Lady Hesketh-the first received for nineteen years! His friends-his old schoolfellows-all were won back by his genius; those who had shrunk from the (supposed) gloomy fanatic returned ardently to the Christian poet.

He rejoiced in this new sunshine of life, and frankly accepted their kindnesses and their renewed affection. He received at this period an anonymous letter, advising him not to overwork himself, and announcing the intention of sending him 501. a year.

There is no doubt it came from his faithful cousin Theodora. He probably knew it did, as he told his cousin Harriet (Lady Hesketh) that he would not seek to penetrate the secret. He thus speaks of his relatives' kindness in a letter to Unwin, dated July 10, 1786 :

"Within this twelvemonth my income has received an addition of a clear 100l. per annum. For a considerable part of it I am indebted to mp dear cousin (Lady Hesketh) now on the other side of the Orchard. At Florence she obtained me 201. a year from Lord Cowper; since he came home she has recommended me with such good effect to his notice that he has added twenty more; twenty she has added herself, and ten she has procured me from the William of my name whom you saw at Hertingfordbury. From my anonymous friend who insists on not being known or guessed at, and never shall by me, I have an annuity of 507. All these sums have accrued within this year, except the first, making together, as you perceive, an exact century of pounds annually poured into the replenished purse of your once poor poet of Olney."

He began now to find Olney dull, and urged by Lady Hesketh, left it and proceeded to a house at Weston-Underwood belonging to Mr. Throck morton. A fortnight after they had entered their new residence a terrible grief once more broke in on the returning happiness of the poet. Poor William Unwin died of typhus fever. He had been the dearest of Cowper's friends, and the mother's loss called also on his sympathy. But Mrs. Unwin bore sorrow calmly, and Cowper was in a short time restored to composure, and laboured at his task of translating Homer, which he had begun twelve months before.

Another short attack of insanity in which he again attempted selfdestruction occurred, but he recovered in about the space of eight months. After this illness he made a singular acknowledgment to Newton in one of his letters, that he had for thirteen years doubted Newton's identity, a fact which accounted for any apparent coolness to his former friend.

In January, 1790, a relative on his mother's side sought out the poet, and Cowper warmly welcomed his cousin John Johnson, to whom he was destined to owe the chief comfort of his last days. This young man, a Yambridge undergraduate, was the grandson of the Rev. Roger Donne, of Catfield, in Norfolk, Cowper's mother's brother.

On his return to his kindred in Norfolk, John Johnson was full of his love and admiration for Cowper; and on telling his aunt, Mrs. Bodham, chat she was still affectionately remembered by her old playfellow and cousin, she wrote to the poet and sent him the picture of his mother, which inspired the beautiful elegy so universally popular.

Cowper had just previously gained a new friend in Mr. Rose; he also began a correspondence with a Mrs. King, and renewed his old acquaintance with Lord Thurlow. His translation of Homer was published in 1791. Johnson gave him 1000l. for it, the copyright remaining with Cowper. His publisher next invited him to undertake an edition of Milton, to match Boydell's Shakespeare. He was to translate Milton's Latin and Italian poems, and add notes. Fuseli was to illustrate the work. But this task proved very painful and distasteful to him.