hing verses, and innumerable references in his letters,
attest his appreciation of her. Mrs. Throckmorton and her husband, in
whose grounds he loved to walk, and in whose kindly and refined
society he spent so many delightful hours, furnished a healthy relief
from the gloom of his austere religion, in the atmosphere of their
genial catholicity; and were an invaluable comfort and benefit to
him. Lady Austen also, a sprightly and accomplished woman, of
intellectual tastes, quick sympathies, and charming manners, whose
appearance at Olney "added fresh plumes to the wings of time," was at
one period an inexpressible blessing to him. "Lady Austen's
conversation acted on Cowper's mind as the harp of David on the
troubled spirit of Saul." He christened her "Sister Ann," and wrote
cordial verses to her. Constant communications with her withdrew his
attention from depressing superstitions, and enlivened his spirits.
At her suggestion it was, and under her sustaining encouragement,
that he composed the immortal ballad of "John Gilpin," the "Dirge for
the Royal George," and his greatest work, "The Task." Love being
proscribed by his repeated subjection to insanity, friendship was the
resource in which he was thrice fortunate.

Far above all others in the number of his female friends, in
importance, must be ranked Mary Unwin, whose name is indissolubly
joined with his in the memories of all who are familiar with his
plaintive story. Mrs. Unwin, wife of a clergyman, religious after the
most scrupulous evangelical type, was first drawn to Cowper by a
sectarian interest. They were fated to be friends, as by the striking
of a die. "That woman," he soon wrote to Lady Hesketh, "is a blessing
to me; and I never see her without being the better for her company."
This is the secret of the charm of all true friendship--that it
soothes the heart, clarifies the mind, heightens the soul. One feels
so much the better for it. Almost penniless as he was, a shiftless
manager, assailed by terrible depression and even madness, the Unwins
took him under their roof, and gave him a home on the most generous
terms. From this time until her death, the friendship of Mary was a
necessity to Cowper, the greatest support and enjoyment the hapless
poet knew, combining with his native humor and gentleness to combat
his melancholy malady with frequent and long victories. In his fits
of insanity, she watched and waited on him day and night, defying
alike persona