opposite to the house of Mrs. Unwin, Cowper observed them from his window.-Although naturally shy, and now rendered more so by his very long illness, he was so struck with the appearance of the stranger, that on hearing she was sister to Mrs. Jones, he requested Mrs. Unwin to invite them to tea. So strong was his reluctance to admit the company of strangers, that af ter he had occasioned this invitation, he was for a long time unwilling to join the little party; but having forced himself at last to engage in conversation with Lady Austen, he was so reanimated by her uncommon colloquial talents, that he attended the Ladies on their return to Clifton, and from that time continued to cultivate the regard of his new acquaintance with such assiduous attention, that she soon received from him the familiar and endearing title of Sister Ann.

The great and happy influence which an incident, that seems at first sight so trivial, produced very rapidly on the imagination of Cowper, will best appear from the following Epistle, which, soon after Lady Austen's return to London for the winter, the Poet ad dressed to her, on the 17th of December, 1781.

Dear Anna-Between friend and friend,
Prose answers every common end; .
Serves, in a plain, and homely way,
T'express th' occurrence of the day;
Our health, the weather, and the news;
What walks we take, what books we choose;
And all the floating thoughts, we find

Upon the surface of the mind.

But when a Poet takes up the pen,

Far more alive than other men,

He feels a gentle tingling come
Down to his finger and his thumb,
Deriv'd from nature's noblest part,
The centre of a glowing heart!

And this is what the world, who knows
No flights above the pitch of prose,
His more sublime vagaries slighting,
Denominates an itch for writing.
No wonder I, who scribble rhyme,
To catch the triflers of the time,
And tell them truths divine and clear,
Which, couch'd in prose, they will not hear:
Who labour hard to allure, and draw

The loiterers I never saw,

Should feel that itching, and that tingling,
With all my purpose intermingling,

To your intrinsic merit true,

When call'd to address myself to you.

Mysterious are his ways, whose power
Brings forth that unexpected hour,
When minds that never met before,
Shall meet, unite, and part no more:
It is th' allotment of the skies,
The Hand of the Supremely Wise,
That guides and governs our affections,
And plans and orders our connections;
Directs us in our distant road,

And marks the bounds of our abode.
Thus we were settled when you found us,
Peasants and children all around us,
Not dreaming of so dear a friend,
Deep in the abyss of Silver-End.*

* An obscure part of Olney, adjoining to the residence of Cowper, which faced the market-place.

Thus Martha, even against her will,
Perch'd on the top of yonder hill;
And you, though you must needs prefer
The fairest scene of sweet Sancerre,*
Are come from distant Loire, to choose
A cottage on the Banks of Ouse.
This page of Providence quite new,
And now just opening to our view,
Employs our present thoughts and pains,
To guess, and spell, what it contains :
But day by day, and year by year,
Will make the dark ænigma clear;
And furnish us, perhaps, at last,
Like other scenes already past,
With proof, that we and our affairs
Are part of a Jehovah's cares:
For God unfolds, by slow degrees,
The purport of his deep decrees;
Sheds every hour a clearer light
In aid of our defective sight;
And spreads at length, before the soul,
A beautiful and perfect whole,
Which busy man's inventive brain
Toils to anticipate in vain.

Say, Anna, had you never known
The beauties of a Rose full blown,
Could you, though luminous your eye,
By looking on the bud, descry,
Or guess, with a prophetic power,
The future splendour of the flower?
Just so th' Omnipotent who turns
The system of a world's concerns,

*Lady Austen's residence in France.

From mere minutia can educe
Events of most important use,
And bid a dawning sky display
The blaze of a meridian day.

The works of man tend, one and all,
As needs they must, from great to small;
And vanity absorbs at length

The monuments of human strength.
But who can tell how vast the plan
Which this day's incident began?
Too small, perhaps, the slight occasion
For our dim-sighted observation;
It pass'd unnotic'd, as the bird
That cleaves the yielding air unheard,
And yet may prove, when understood,
An harbinger of endless good.

Not that I deem, or mean to call,
Friendship a blessing cheap or small;
But merely to remark, that ours,
Like some of nature's sweetest flowers,
Rose from the seed of tiny size,

That seem'd to promise no such prize :
A transient visit intervening,

And made almost without a meaning,
(Hardly the effect of inclination,
Much less of pleasing expectation!)
Produc'd a friendship, then begun,
That has cemented us in one;
And plac'd it in our power to prove,
By long fidelity and love,

That Solomon has wisely spoken:

"A three-fold cord is not soon broken."

In this interesting Poem the Author expresses a lively and devout presage of the superior productions that were to arise, in the process of time, from a friendship so unexpected, and so pleasing; but he does not seem to have been aware, in the slightest degree, of the evident dangers that must naturally attend an intimacy so very close, yet perfectly innocent, between a Poet and two Ladies, who, with very different mental powers, had each reason to flatter herself that she could agreeably promote the studies, and animate the fancy of this fas cinating Bard.

Genius of the most exquisite kind is sometimes, and perhaps generally, so modest and diffident, as to require continual solicitation and encouragement from the voice of sympathy and friendship, to lead it into permanent and successful exertion. Such was the genius of Cowper; and he therefore considered the cheerful and animating society of his new accom. plished friend, as a blessing conferred on him by the signal favour of Providence. She returned the following summer to the house of her sister, situated on the brow of a hill, the foot of which is washed by the River Ouse, as it flows between Clifton and Olney. Her benevolent ingenuity was exerted to guard the spirits of Cowper from sinking again into that hypochondriacal dejection to which, even in her company, he still sometimes discovered an alarming tendency. To promote his occupation and amusement, she furnished him with a small portable printing-press, and he gratefully sent her the following verses, printed by himself, and enclosed in a billet, that alludes to the occasion on which they were composed-a very unseasonable flood, that interrupted the communication between Clifton and Olney.