Cowper's letter to Newton of the 3rd. "On Saturday night," he says, "at eleven o'clock, when I had not been in bed five minutes, I was alarmed by a cry of fire, announced by two or three shrill screams upon our staircase. Our servants, who were going to bed, saw it from their windows, and in appearance so near that they thought our house in danger. I immediately rose, and putting by the curtain saw sheets of fire rising above the ridge of Mr. Palmer's house, opposite to The deception was such that I had no doubt it had begun with him, but soon found that it was rather farther off. In fact, it was at three places in the outhouses belonging to George Griggs, Lucy and Abigail Tyrrel.

ours.

"Having broke out in three different parts, it is supposed to have been maliciously kindled. A tarbarrel and a quantity of tallow made a most tremendous blaze, and the buildings it had seized upon being all thatched, the appearance became every moment more formidable. Providentially the night was perfectly calm, so calm that candles without lanterns, of which there were multitudes in the street, burnt as steadily as in the house. By four in the morning it was so far reduced that all danger seemed to be over; but the confusion it had occasioned was almost infinite. Every man, who supposed his dwelling-house in jeopardy, emptied it as fast as he could, and conveyed his moveables to the house of some neighbour, supposed to be more secure. Ours, in the space of two hours, was so filled with all sorts of lumber that we had not even room for a chair by the fireside. George Griggs is the principal sufferer. He gave eighteen guineas, or nearly

that sum, to a woman, whom, in his hurry, he mistook for his wife; but the supposed wife walked off with the money, and he will probably never recover it. He has likewise lost forty pounds' worth of wool. London never exhibited a scene of greater depredation, drunkenness, and riot. Everything was stolen that could be got at, and every drop of liquor drunk that was not guarded. Only one thief has yet been detected; a woman of the name of J—, who was stopped by young Handscomb with an apron full of plunder.” On the 17th of the month we have the sequel to this occurrence, which is related in Cowper's most humorous vein : "Since our conflagration here we have sent two women and a boy to the justice for depredation: Sue Riviss, for stealing a piece of beef, which, in her excuse, she said she intended to take care of. This lady, whom you well remember, escaped for want of evidence; not that evidence was indeed wanting, but our men of Gotham judged it unnecessary to send it. With her went the woman whom I mentioned before, who, it seems, has made some sort of profession, but upon this occasion allowed herself a latitude of conduct rather inconsistent with it, having filled her apron with wearing apparel which she likewise intended. to take care of. She would have gone to the county gaol, had William Raban, the baker's son, who prosecuted, insisted upon it; but he good-naturedly, though, I think, weakly, interposed in her favour, and begged her off. The young gentleman who accompanied these fair ones is the junior son of Molly Boswell. He had stolen some iron-work, the property of Griggs, the butcher. Being convicted, he was ordered to be

whipped, which operation he underwent at the cart's tail, from the stone-house to the high arch and back again. He seemed to show great fortitude, but it was all an imposition upon the public. The beadle, who performed it, had filled his left hand with red ochre, through which after every stroke he drew the lash of his whip, leaving the appearance of a wound upon the skin, but in reality not hurting him at all. This being perceived by Mr. Constable Handscomb, who followed the beadle, he applied his cane, without any such management or precaution, to the shoulders of the too merciful executioner. The scene immediately became more interesting. The beadle could by no means be prevailed upon to strike hard, which provoked the constable to strike harder; and this double flogging continued, till a lass of Silver End, pitying the pitiful beadle thus suffering under the hands of the pitiless constable, joined the procession, and placing herself immediately behind the latter, seized him by his capillary club, and pulling him backwards by the same, slapped his face with a most Amazonian fury. This concatenation of events has taken up more of my paper than I intended it should, but I could not forbear to inform you how the beadle thrashed the thief, the constable the beadle, and the lady the constable, and how the thief was the only person concerned who suffered nothing."

97. Thurlow, Colman, and Bacon.

Among the persons to whom Cowper had presented copies of his first volume were Lord Thurlow and

Colman, his old intimates at the Temple. To Thurlow, in the letter that accompanied the volume, he had said:

"My Lord, I make no apology for what I account a duty. I should offend against the cordiality of our former friendship should I send a volume into the world, and forget how much I am bound to pay my particular respects to your lordship upon that occasion. When we parted, you little thought of hearing from me again, and I as little that I should live to write to you, still less that I should wait on you in the capacity of an author.

"Among the pieces I have the honour to send there is one for which I must intreat your pardon; I mean that of which your lordship is the subject. The best excuse I can make is, that it flowed almost spontaneously from the affectionate remembrance of a connection that did me so much honour."

Cowper looked for a reply to this letter with much anxiety. He said to Unwin (March 18, 1782): “Whether I shall receive any answer from his Chancellorship or not is at present in ambiguo, and will probably continue in the same state of ambiguity much longer. He is so busy a man, and at this time, if the papers may be credited, so particularly busy, that I am forced to mortify myself with the thought that both my book and my letter may be thrown into a corner as too insignificant for a statesman's notice, and never found till his executor finds them. This affair, however, is neither at my libitum nor his. I have sent him the truth, and the truth which I know he is ignorant of." A fortnight later, in reply to some favourable

opinions communicated to him by Unwin, he says: "Alas, we shall never receive such commendations from him on the woolsack! He has great abilities, but no religion. Mr. Hill told him some time since that I was going to publish; to which piece of information, so far as I can learn, he returned no answer, for Mr. Hill has not reported any to me. He had afterwards an opportunity to converse with him in private, but my poor authorship was not so much as mentioned; whence I learn two lessons: first, that, however important I may be in my own eyes, I am very insignificant in his; and secondly, that I am never likely to receive any acknowledgment of the favour I have conferred upon his lordship."

And so it proved. Thurlow did not even take the trouble to acknowledge the receipt of the book; and this was the sequence to the large promise he had made to provide for Cowper if he should attain the Chancellorship! To expect Thurlow to keep a promise made in a laughing mood and on the spur of the moment would have been foolish, but Cowper had a right to expect a few graceful words. Half a dozen strokes of Thurlow's pen would have filled him with joy, but these were denied him. To add to the mortification, Colman, too, was mute. At first Cowper made all the excuses for them possible. Both were busy men; but when month after month passed by, and still no answer came, his wounded spirit showed itself in indignant verse, and in the poem called "The Valediction" (November, 1783) he branded with the name of False Friend both Niger and Terentius, him of the woolsack, and him of the sock and buskin.