morrow it goes to town, and will hang some months at Abbot's, when it will be sent to its due destination in Norfolk.

I hope, or rather wish, that at Eartham I may recover that habit of study which, inveterate as it once seemed, I now seem to have lost-lost to such a degree, that it is even painful to me to think of what it will cost me to acquire it again.

Adieu! my dear, dear Hayley; God give us a happy meeting. Mary sends her love-She is in pretty good plight this morning, having slept well, and for her part, has no fears at all about the journey.

Ever yours,

W. C.

The affectionate little prayer at the close of the last Letter prevailed, and Providence conducted these most interesting travellers very safely to my retreat. The delights that I enjoyed in promoting the health and chearfulness of guests so dear to me; in sharing the high gratification of Cowper's society, with my old sympathetic friend Romney; and in beholding that expressive resemblance of the poet, which forms a frontispiece to this work, grow under the pencil of the friendly artist agreeably inspired by the mental dignity of the subject, these delights are indeed treasured in my memory, among those prime blessings of mortal existence, which still call for our gratitude to Heaven, even when they are departed; for even then they still afford us that sweet secondary life, which we form to ourselves, from the pleasing contemplation of past hours very happily employed.

It is however unnecessary for me to dwell on the memorable period that Cowper passed under my roof, because a few of his Letters written to different friends, while he was with me, will sufficiently describe the beneficial effect which the beautiful sceof Sussex very visibly produced on his health

nery

and spirits. I fear not the imputatiou of vanity, for inserting the vivid praise of my friend on the spot I inhabited, for I now inhabit it no more, and if I ever had any such vanity, it must have perished with the darling child, for whom I wished to embellish and preserve the scene, that Cowper has so highly commended.

I

The tender partiality which this most feeling friend had conceived for me, rendered him not a little partial to whatever engaged his thoughts as mine. Many endearing marks of such partiallity occurred during his residence at Eartham; but the one which gratified me most, I cannot forbear to mention. mean the very sweet condescension with which he admitted to his friendship and confidence the child to whom I alluded, at that time a boy of eleven years, whose rare early talents, and rarer modesty, endeared him so much to Cowper, that he allowed and invited hiim to criticise his Homer. The good natured reader will forgive me, if he happen to find a brief specimen of such juvenile criticism, in their future correspondence.

Homer was not the immediate object of our attention, while Cowper resided at Eartham. The morning hours that we could bestow upon books,

were chiefly devoted to a complete revisal and correction of all the translations. which my friend had finished, from the Latin and Italian poetry of Milton: and we generally amused ourselves after dinner in forming together a rapid metrical version of Andreini's Adamo. But the constant care which the delicate health of Mrs. Unwin required, rendered it impossible for us te be very assiduous in study, and perhaps the best of all studies was, to promote and share that most singular and most exemplary tenderness of attention, with which Cowper incessantly laboured to counteract every infirmity bodily and mental, with which sickness and age has conspired to load this interesting guardian of his afflicted life.

I haue myself no language sufficiently strong, or sufficiently tender, to express my just admiration of that angelic, compassionate sensibility, with which Cowper watched over his aged invalide; but my reader will yet be enabled to form an adequate idea of that sensibility by a copy of his verses, to which it gave rise, when these infirmities grew still more striking on her return to Weston.

The air of the South infused a little portion of fresh strength into her shattered frame, and to give it all possible efficacy, the boy, whom I have

mentioned, and a young associate and fellow-student of his, employed themselves regularly twice a day, in drawing this venerable cripple, in a commodious garden-chair, round the airy hill of Eartham. To Cowper, and to me it was a very pleasing spectacle, to see the benevolent vivacity of blooming youth thus continually labouring for the ease, health, and amusement of disabled age. But of this interesting time I will speak no more, since I have a better record of it to present to my reader in the following Letters.

LETTER CLXXIX.

To the Revd. Mr. GREATHEED.

MY DEAR SIR,

Eartham, August 6, 1792.

Having first thanked

you for your affectionate and acceptable Letter, I will proceed, as well as I can, to answer your equally affectionate request. that I would send you early news of our arrival at Eartham. Here we are in the most elegant mansion that I have ever inhabited, and surrounded by the most delightful pleasure grounds that