meet each other as alive from the dead; and for my own part, I can truly say, that I have not a friend in the other world, whose resurrection would give me greater pleasure."

A house at Weston, belonging to the Throckmortons, was at that time vacant, and these kind neighbours expressed an earnest wish that Mrs. Unwin and Cowper would take it for the sake of being near them. "If you, my cousin," said he, “ were not so well provided for as you are, and at our very elbow, I verily believe I should have mustered all my rhetoric to recommend it to you. You might have it for ever, without danger of ejectment, whereas your possession of the vicarage depends on the life of the vicar, who is eighty-six. The environs are most beautiful, and the village itself one of the prettiest I ever saw. Add to this, you would step immediately into Mr. Throckmorton's pleasure-ground, where you would not soil your slippers, even in winter 49" After looking at the house, he wrote to her, that it was such a one as in most respects would suit her well. "But Moses Brown, our vicar," said he, "who, as I told you, is in his eighty-sixth year, is not bound to die for that reason. He said himself, when he was here last summer, that he should live ten years longer; and for aught that appears so he may; in which case for the sake of its near neighbourhood to us, the vicarage has charms for me that no other place can rival. But this and a thousand things more shall be talked over when you come "Come then, my beloved cousin, for I am determined, that 'whatsoever king shall reign, you shall be vicar of Olney.'"

50 99

He proposed to meet her at Newport Pagnel, but assented to her opinion that there would be many inconveniences in such an arrangement. "Assure yourself," said he, "my dearest cousin, that both for your sake, since you make a point of it, and for my own, I will be as philosophically careful as possible, that these fine nerves of mine shall not be beyond measure agitated, when you arrive. In truth, there is much greater probability that they will be benefited, and greatly too. Joy of heart, from whatever occasion it may arise, is the best of all nervous medicines; and I should not wonder if such a turn given to my spirits should have even a lasting effect of the most advantageous kind upon them. You must not imagine, neither, that I am. on the whole, in any great degree subject to nervous 49 May 8, 1786. 50 May 25.

affections. Occasionally I am, and have been these many years, much liable to dejection; but at intervals, and sometimes for an interval of weeks, no creature would suspect it. For I have not that which commonly is a symptom of such a case belonging to me,-I mean extraordinary elevation in the absence of Mr. Bluedevil. When I am in the best health, my tide of animal sprightliness flows with great equality, so that I am never, at any time, exalted in proportion as I am sometimes depressed. My depression has a cause, and if that cause were to cease, I should be as cheerful thenceforth, and perhaps for ever, as any man need be. But, as I have often said, Mrs. Unwin shall be my expositor.

66

Adieu, my beloved cousin. God grant that our friendship, which, while we could see each other, never suffered a moment's interruption, and which so long a separation has not in the least abated, may glow in us to our last hour, and be renewed in a better world, there to be perpetuated for ever.

"For you must know, that I should not love you half so well, if I did not believe you would be my friend to eternity. There is not room enough for friendship to unfold itself in full bloom in such a nook of life as this. Therefore I am, and must, and will be, Yours, for ever,

"W. C. 5199 When this passage was written, it is evident that his mind was free from the dreadful notion which characterised his insanity. And at this time, even in his darker moods, he spoke of his own state hopefully. "I have made your heart ache too often," said he, "my poor dear cousin, with talking about my fits 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 considerable 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, 51 May 25.

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 52, "

upon

Lady Hesketh arrived about the middle of June. "I am fond of the sound of bells," says Cowper, "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 those instruments have never paid to any other personage, (Lord Dartmouth excepted,) since we knew the town. In short she is, as she ever was, my pride and my joy, and I am delighted at every thing that means to do her honour. Her first appearance was too much for me; my spirits, instead of being greatly raised, as I had inadvertently supposed they would be, broke down with me, under the pressure of too much joy, and left me flat or rather melancholy throughout the day, to a degree that was mortifying to myself, and alarming to her. But I have made amends for this failure since, and in point of cheerfulness have far exceeded her expectations, for she knew that sable had been my suit for many years

53 9

To Hill he said that his dear cousin's arrival had made them happier than they ever were before at Olney, and that her company was a cordial of which he should feel the effect, not only while she remained there, but as long as he lived. He wrote cheerfully also to Mr. Newton. "It was an observation," said he, "of a sensible 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 well content to say, without any enlargement on the subject, that an inquirer after happiness might travel far, and not find a happier trio than meet every day either in our parlour, or in the parlour of 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 behaviour 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.”

There were discomforts attending his situation in Olney which Cowper felt, though he seldom allowed himself to complain of them. Upon telling Mr. Newton one winter, that owing to the state of the weather, he and Mrs. Unwin had not escaped into the fields more than three times since the autumn, he said, "Man, a changeable creature in himself, seems to subsist best in a state of variety, as his proper element: a melancholy man, at least, is apt to grow sadly weary of the same walks and the same pales, and to find that the same scene will suggest the same thoughts perpetually 54" This is a melancholy passage; but a blacker melancholy possessed him when he described to the same friend his contentment in his situation, and the reason why he was contented. "I am not shut up in the Bastile," said he; "there are no moats about my castle, no locks upon my gates of which I have not the key; but an invisible uncontrollable agency—a local attachment,—an inclination more forcible than I ever felt even to the place of my birth, serves me for prison walls, and for bounds which I cannot pass. In former years I have known sorrow, and before I had ever tasted of spiritual trouble. The effect was an abhorrence of the scene in which I had suffered so much, and a weariness of those objects which I had so long looked at with an eye of despondency and dejection. But it is otherwise with me now. The same cause subsisting, and in a much more powerful degree, fails to produce its natural effect. The very stones in the garden-walls are my intimate acquaintance. I should miss almost the minutest object, and be disagreeably affected by its removal, and am persuaded, that were it possible I could leave this incommodious nook for a twelvemonth, I should return to it again with rapture, and be transported with the sight of objects, which to all the world beside would be at least indifferent; some of them, perhaps, such as the ragged thatch and the tottering walls of the neighbouring cottages, disgusting. But so it is; and it is so, because here is to be my abode, and because such is the appointment of Him that placed me in it. Iste terrarum mihi præter omnes Angulus ridet.

It is the place of all the world I love the most, not for any happiness it affords me, but because here I can be miserable

54 Feb. 2, 1782.

with most convenience to myself, and with the least disturbance to others."

During winter Cowper was fain, instead of healthier and more natural exercise, to use the dumb-bells, and a skippingrope. His own health nevertheless suffered, want of wholesome exercise having been the cause of his stomach complaints; and Mrs. Unwin, who had no such substitution, suffered more. Even in summer their situation was in this respect unfavourable. Writing to Lady Hesketh a little before her arrival, he says, "Our walks are, as I told you, beautiful, but it is a walk to get at them; and though, when you come, I shall take you into training, as the jockeys say, and doubt not that I shall make a nimble and good walker of you in a short time, you would find, as even I do in warm weather, that the preparatory steps are rather too many in number. Weston, which is our pleasantest retreat of all, is a mile off; and there is not in that whole mile to be found so much shade as would cover you. Mrs. Unwin and I have for many years walked thither every day in the year, when the weather would permit ; and to speak like a poet, the limes and the elms of Weston can witness for us both how often we have sighed and said, 'Oh that our garden door opened into this grove, or into this wilderness! for we are fatigued before we reach them, and when we have reached them, have not time to enjoy them.' Thus stands the case, my dear, and the unavoidable ergo5 stares you in the face-would I could do so just at this moment! We have three or four other walks, but except one, they all lie at such a distance as you would find heinously incommodious; but Weston, as I said before, is our favourite. Of that we are never weary; its superior beauties gained it our preference at the first, and for many years it has prevailed to win us away from all the others. There was indeed, some time since, in a neighbouring parish, called Lavendon, a field, one side of which formed a terrace, and the other was planted with poplars, at whose foot ran the Ouse, that I used to account a little Paradise. But the poplars have been felled; and the scene has suffered so much by the loss, that, though still in point of prospect beautiful, it has not charms sufficient to attract me now. A certain poet wrote a copy of verses on this melancholy occasion 56","

55 That she should bring her own horses as well as carriage to Olney. 55 May 1, 1786.