"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 altho' 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 very friends, who called on him, for the purpose of attending him to the House of Lords, acquiesced in the cruel necessity of his relinquishing the prospect of a station so severely formidable to a frame of such singular sensibility.

The conflict between the wishes of just affectionate ambition, and the terrors of diffidence, so entirely overwhelmed his health and faculties, that after two learned and benevolent Divines (Mr. John Cowper his brother, and the celebrated Mr. Martin Madan, his first cousin) had vainly endeavoured to establish a lasting tranquillity in his mind, by friendly and religious conver

sation, it was found necessary to remove him to St. Alban's, where he resided a considerable time, under the care of that eminent physician, Dr. Cotton, a scholar, and a poet, who added to many accomplishments a peculiar sweetness of manners, in very advanced life, when I had the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with him.

The misfortune of mental derangement is a topic of such aweful delicacy, that I consider it as the duty of a Biographer, rather to sink, in tender silence, than to proclaim, with circumstantial, and offensive temerity, the minute particulars of a calamity, to which all human beings are exposed, and perhaps in proportion, as they have received from nature those delightful, but dangerous gifts, a heart of exquisite tenderness, and a mind of creative energy.

This is a sight for pity to peruse,

'Till she resembles, faintly, what she views;
'Till sympathy contract a kindred pain,
Pierc'd with the woes, that she laments in vain.

This, of all maladies, that man infest,

Claims most compassion, and receives the least,

But, with a soul, that ever felt the sting
Of sorrow, sorrow is a sacred thing.

'Tis not, as heads that never ach, suppose,
Forg'ry of fancy, and a dream of woes.

Man is a harp, whose chords elude the sight,
Each yielding harmony, dispos'd aright;

The screws revers'd (a task, which if He please
God, in a moment executes with ease;)
Ten thousand, thousand strings at once go loose;
Lost, till He tune them, all their pow'r and use,

No wounds like those, a wounded spirit feels;
No cure for such, till God, who makes them, heals.
And thou, sad sufferer, under nameless ill,
That yields not to the touch of human skill,
Improve the kind occasion, understand

A Father's frown, and kiss the chast'ning Hand!

It is in this aweful, and instructive light, that Cowper himself teaches us to consider the calamity, of which I am now speaking; and of which he, like his illustrious brother of Parnassus, the younger Tasso, was occasionally a most affecting example. Heaven appears to have given a striking lesson to mankind, to guard both virtue, and genius, against pride of heart, and pride of intellect, by thus suspending the affections, and the talents, of two most tender, and sublime Poets, who, in the purity of their lives, and in the splendor of their intellectual powers, will be ever deservedly reckoned among the pre-eminent of the earth.

From December 1763, to the following July, the pure mind

of Cowper appears to have laboured under the severest sufferings of morbid depression: but the medical skill of Dr. Cotton, and the chearful, benignant manners of that accomplished physician, gradually succeeded, with the blessing of Heaven, in removing the undescribable load of religious despondency, which had clouded the admirable faculties of this innocent, and upright man. His ideas of religion were changed, from the gloom of terror and despair, to the lustre of comfort and delight.

This juster and happier view of Evangelical truth is said to have arisen in his mind, while he was reading the 3d Chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans. Devout contemplation became more and more dear to his reviving spirit: resolving to relinquish all thoughts of a laborious profession, and all intercourse with the busy world, he acquiesced in a plan of settling at Huntingdon, by the advice of his brother, who, as a Minister of the Gospel, and a Fellow of Bennet College, in Cambridge, resided in that University ; a situation so near to the place chosen for Cowper's retirement, that it afforded to these affectionate brothers opportunities of easy and frequent intercourse. I regret that all the letters, which passed between them, have perished, and the more so as they sometimes corresponded in verse. John Cowper was also a Poet. He had engaged to execute a translation of Voltaire's Henriade, and in the course of the work requested and obtained the assistance of William, who translated, as he informed me himself, two entire

Cantos

Cantos of the Poem. A specimen of this fraternal production, which appeared in a Magazine of the year 1759, will be found in the Appendix to these volumes.

In June 1765, the reviving Invalid removed to a private lodging in the Town of Huntingdon, but Providence soon introduced him into a family, which afforded him one of the most singular, and valuable friends, that ever watched an afflicted mortal in seasons of overwhelming adversity; that friend, to whom the Poet exclaims, in the commencement of the Task,

And witness, dear companion of my walks,
Whose arm, this twentieth winter, I perceive
Fast lock'd in mine, with pleasure, such as love,
Confirm'd by long experience of thy worth,
And well-tried virtues, could alone inspire;
Witness a joy, that thou hast doubled long!
Thou know'st my praise of nature most sincere ;
And that my raptures are not conjured up

To serve occasions of poetic pomp,

But genuine, and art partner of them all.

These verses would be alone sufficient to make every poetical Reader take a lively interest in the lady, they describe, but these are far from being the only tribute, which the gratitude of Cowper has paid to the endearing virtues of his female companion. More poetical memorials of her merit will be found in these Volumes,

and