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produce such a meditation, it might fairly be expect

ed, that he would

"In riper life, exempt from public haunt,

"Find tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

"Sermons in stones, and good in

every thing."

These few words of Shakespear have often appeared to me as an absolute portrait of Cowper, in those quiet and chearful days when he exercised, and enjoyed, his rare poetical powers in privacy, at the pleasant village of Weston. But before we contemplate the poetical recluse in that scene, it is the duty of his Biographer to relate some painful incidents, that led him, by extraordinary steps, to his favourite

retreat.

Though extreme diffidence, and a tendency to despond, seemed early to preclude Cowper from the expectation of climbing to the splendid summit of the profession he had chosen; yet, by the interest of his family, he had prospects of emolument in a line of life that appeared better suited to the modesty of his nature, and to his moderate ambition.

In his thirty-first year, he was nominated to the offices of Reading Clerk, and Clerk of the private Committees in the House of Lords. A situation the

more desirable, as such an establishment might enable him to marry early in life; a measure, to which he was doubly disposed by judgment and inclination. But the peculiarities of his wonderful mind rendered him unable to support the ordinary duties of his new office; for the idea of reading in public proved a source of torture to his tender, and apprehensive, spirit. An expedient was devised to promote his interest, without wounding his feelings. Resigning his situation of Reading Clerk, he was appointed Clerk of the Journals in the same House of Parliament. Of his occupation in consequence of this new appointment he speaks in the following Letter to a lady, who will become known and endeared to my readers in proportion to the interest they take in the writings of Cowper.

LETTER I.

To Lady HESKETH.

The Temple, August 9, 1763.

MY DEAR COUSIN,

Having promised to write to you, I make haste to be as good as my word. I have a pleasure in writing to you at any time, but especially at

the present, when my days are spent in reading the Journals, and my nights in dreaming of them. An employment not very agreeable to a head, that has long been habituated to the luxury of chusing its subject, and has been as little employed upon business, as if it had grown upon the shoulders of a much wealthier gentleman. But the Numscull pays for it now, and will not presently forget the discipline it has undergone lately. If I succeed in this doubtful piece of promotion, I shall have at least this satisfaction to reflect upon, that the volumes I write will be treasured up with the utmost care for ages, and will last as long as the English constitution. A duration

which ought to satisfy the vanity of any author, who has a spark of love for his country. Oh my good Cousin! if I was to open my heart to you, I could shew you strange sights; nothing I flatter myself that would shock you, but a great deal that would make you wonder. I am of a very singular temper, and very unlike all the men that I have ever conversed with. Certainly I am not an absolute fool; but I have more weaknesses than the greatest of all the fools I can recollect at present. In short, if I was as fit for the next world, as I am unfit for this, and God forbid I should

speak it in vanity, I would not change conditions with any saint in Christendom.

My destination is settled at last, and I have obtained a furlough. Margate is the word, and what do you think will ensue Cousin ? I know what you expect, but ever since I was born I have been good at disappointing the most natural expectations. Many years ago, Cousin, there was a possibility that I might prove a very different thing from what I am at present. My character is now fixt, and rivetted fast upon me, and between friends, is not a very splendid one, or likely to be guilty of much fascination. Adieu, my dear Cousin! dear Cousin! So much as I love you, I wonder how the Deuce it has happened I was never in love with you. Thank Heaven that I never was, for at this time I have had a pleasure in writing to you, which in that case I should have forfeited. Let me hear from you, or I shall reap but half the reward that is due to my noble indifference.

Yours ever, and evermore,

W. C.

It was hoped from the change of his station that

his personal appearance in Parliament might not be

required, but a parliamentary dispute made it necessary for him to appear at the Bar of the House of Lords, to entitle himself publicly to the office.

Speaking of this important incident in a sketch, which he once formed himself, of passages in his early life, he expresses, what he endured at the time, in these remarkable words: "They, whose spirits are "formed like mine, to whom a public exhibition of "themselves is mortal poison, may have some idea " of the horrors of my situation-others can have ". none."

His terrors on this occasion arose to such an astonishing height, that they utterly overwhelmed his reason for although he had endeavoured to prepare himself for his public duty, by attending closely at the office for several months, to examine the parliamentary journals, his application was rendered useless by that excess of diffidence, which made him conceive, that, whatever knowledge he might previously acquire, it would all forsake him at the bar of the house. This distressing apprehension encreased to such a degree, as the time for his appearance approached, that when the day, so anxiously dreaded, arrived, he was unable to make the experiment. The C

VOL. 1.

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