And it is certain that I might pass through a town in which I was once a sort of principal figure, unknowing and unknown. They are happy who have not taken up their rest in a world fluctuating as the sea, and passing away with the rapidity of a river. I wish from my heart, that you and Mr. King may long continue, as you have already long continued, exceptions from the general truth of this remark."

Lady Hesketh remained at Weston through the greater part of the winter of 1788-9, and contributed much to revive Cowper's drooping spirits, and to cheer and animate him in his important undertaking; which seemed to engage more of his time the nearer it approached to a finish. The close attention which he found it indispensably necessary to bestow upon it, compelled him almost entirely to relinquish his correspondence. And, as a letter from him was esteemed a treasure by all his friends, many of whom began to make complaints of being neglected, he was often compelled, in those he did write, to advert to these complaints. We find him thus excusing himself for his apparent neglect :-"The post brings me no letters that do not grumble at my silence. Had not you, therefore, taken me to task as roundly as others, I should, perhaps, have concluded that you were more indifferent to my epistles than the rest of my correspondents; of whom one says, 'I shall be glad when you have finished Homer; then possibly you will find a little leisure for an old friend.' Another says, 'I don't choose to be neglected, unless you equally neglect every one else.' Thus I hear of it with both ears, and shall, till I appear in the shape of two great quarto volumes, the composition of which I confess engrosses me to a degree that gives my friends, to whom I feel myself much obliged for their anxiety to hear from me, but too much reason to complain. Johnson told Mr. Martyn the truth, when he said I had nearly completed Homer, but your inference from that truth is not altogether so just as most of your conclusions are. Instead of finding myself the more at leisure, because my labor draws to a close, I find myself the more occupied. As when a horse approaches the goal, he does not, unless he be jaded, slacken his pace, but quickens it even so it fares with me. The end is in view; I seem almost to have reached the mark, and the nearness of it inspires me with fresh alacrity. But be it known to you, that I have still two books of the Odyssey before me, and when they are finished, shall have almost the whole eight-and-forty to revise. Judge then, my dear madam, if it is yet time for

me to play or to gratify myself with scribbling to those I love. No, it is necessary that waking I should be all absorpt in Homer, and that sleeping I should dream of nothing else."

Busily engaged, however, as Cowper was with his translation, he found time to compose several short, but beautiful poems, on various subjects, as they happened to occur to his mind. These were eagerly sought after by his correspondents, and were forwarded to them respectively, as opportunities offered, accompanied generally with the poet's acknowledgments of their comparative insignificance, at least in his own esteem. Several of these productions were written to oblige his friends, for whom Cowper always had the highest regard, and whom he felt pleased on all occasions to accommodate; others were written at the request of strangers, whom he was not unwilling, when it lay fairly in his way, to oblige. On one occasion, the parish clerk of Northampton applied to him for some verses, to be annexed to some bills of mortality, which he was accustomed to publish at Christmas. This singular incident, so illustrative of Cowper's real generosity, he relates in the following most interesting and sprightly manner:-"On Monday morning last, Sam brought me word that there was a man in the kitchen, who desired to speak with me. I ordered him in. A plain, decent, elderly-looking figure, made its appearance, and being desired to sit, spoke as follows: Sir, I am clerk of the parish of All Saints, in Northampton; brother of Mr. C. the upholsterer. It is customary for the person in my office to annex to a bill of mortality, which he publishes at Christmas, a copy of verses. You would do me a great favor, Sir, if you would furnish me with one.' To this I replied; Mr. C. you have several men of genius in your town, why have you not applied to some of them? There is a namesake of yours in particular, Mr. C. the statuary, who everybody knows is a first-rate maker of verses. He surely is the man, of all the world, for your purpose.' Alas! Sir,' replied he, 'I have heretofore borrowed help from him, but he is a gentleman of so much reading, that the people of the town cannot understand him.' I confess I felt all the force of the compliment implied in this speech, and was almost ready to answer, perhaps, my good friend, they may find me unintelligible for the same reason. But on asking him whether he had walked over to Weston on purpose to implore the assistance of my muse, and on his replying in the affirmative, I felt my mortified

Q

vanity a little consoled, and pitying the poor man's distress, which appeared to be considerable, promised to supply him. The wagon has accordingly gone this day to Northampton, loaded in part with my effusions in the mortuary style. A fig for poets who write epitaphs upon individuals; I have written one that serves two hundred persons."

On another occasion, Cowper thus writes to Mr. Hill, adverting to the numerous entreaties he sometimes received for the assistance of his muse. "My muse were a vixen, if she were not always ready to fly in obedience to your commands. But what can be done? I can write nothing in the few hours that remain to me of this day, that will be fit for your purpose: and, unless I could dispatch what I write by to-morrow's post, it would not reach you in time. I must add, too, that my friend the vicar of the next parish, engaged me the day before yesterday, to furnish him by next Sunday with a hymn to be sung on the occasion of his preaching to the chil dren of the Sunday-school; of which hymn I have not yet produced a syllable. I am somewhat in the case of Lawyer Dowling, in Tom Jones; and could I split myself into as many poets as there are muses, I could find employment for them all."

These numerous engagements, however, did not prevent the poet from recording his sentiments respecting any circumstance that occurred which he thought deserving notice. About this time the following melancholy event happened, which drew from him lines expressive of his entire abhorrence of cruelty, by whomsoever perpetrated, and whether practised upon man or upon the lower order of animals. John A- Esq., a young gentleman of large fortune, who was passionately fond of cock-fighting, came to his death in the following awful manner. He had a favorite cock, upon which he had won many large sums. The last bet he laid upon it he lost, which so enraged him, that he had the bird tied to a spit, and roasted alive, before a large fire. The screams of the suffering animal were so affecting, that some gentlemen who were present attempted to interfere, which so exasperated Mr. A- that he seized the poker, and with the most furious vehemence declared that he would kill the first man who interfered; but in the midst of his passionate assertions, awful to relate, he fell down dead upon the spot. Cowper was so deeply affected by the circumstance, that he composed a poetic obituary on the occasion, which was inserted in the Gentleman's Magazine for May, 1789, from which we extract the following lines:

"This man (for since the howling wild Disclaims him, man he must be styled) Wanted no good below:

Gentle he was, if gentle birth

Could make him such, and he had worth, If wealth can worth bestow.

Can such be cruel? such can be
Cruel as hell, and so was he;
A tyrant entertain'd

With barb'rous sports, whose fell delight
Was to encourage mortal fight,

"Twixt birds to battle trained.

One feathered champion he possessed,
His darling far beyond the rest,

Which never knew disgrace,
Nor e'er had fought, but he made flow
The life-blood of his fiercest foe-
The Cæsar of his race.

It chanced, at last, when, on a day,
He pushed him to the desperate fray,
His courage drooped, he fled;
The master stormed, the prize was lost,
And, instant, frantic at the cost,

He doom'd his favorite dead.

He seized him fast, and from the pit
Flew to the kitchen, snatch'd the spit,
And, Bring me cord, he cried;
The cord was brought, and at his word,
To that dire implement, the bird,
Alive, and struggling, tied.

The horrid sequel asks a veil,

And all the terrors of the tale

That can be, shall be sunk;

Led by the sufferer's screams aright,
His shock'd companions view the sight,
And him with pity, drunk.

All, suppliant, beg a milder fate,
For the old warrior at the grate :
He, deaf to pity's call,

Whirl'd round him, rapid as a wheel,
His culinary club of steel,

Death menacing on all.

But vengeance hung not far remote,
For while he stretched his clamorous throat,
And heaven and earth defied;

Big with a curse too closely pent,
That struggled vainly for a vent,
He totter'd, reel'd, and died.

'Tis not for us, with rash surmise,
To point the judgment of the skies;
But judgments plain as this,

That, sent for men's instruction, bring
A written label on their wing,

"Tis hard to read amiss."

It was Cowper's intention, after finishing his translation, to publish a third volume of original poems, which was to contain, in addition to a poem he intended to compose, similar to the Task, entitled "The Four Ages," all the minor unpublished productions of his pen. And it is deeply to be regretted that he was not permitted to carry this design into completion, as the interesting subject of the different stages of man's existence would have been admirably adapted for a complete development of his poetic talents.

The readiness of Cowper to listen to any alterations in his productions, suggested by his correspondents, ought not to go unrecorded. To the Rev. Walter Bagot he thus writes. "My verses on the Queen's visit to London, either have been printed, or soon will be in the world. The finishing to which you objected I have altered, and have substituted two new stanzas in the room of it. Two others also I have struck out, another friend having objected to them. I think I am a very tractable sort of a poet. Most of my fraternity would as soon shorten the noses of their children because they were said to be too long, as thus dock their compositions, in compliance with the opinions of others. I beg that when my life shall be written hereafter, my authorship's ductibility of temper may not be forgotten."