The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1864-12-31


Rev. DIR. Raiiles, an English clergyman and
traveller, who died aoout year ego left a diary
which has lately been published, with a memoir,
in London. His letters from the various places
Of his sojourn are among the best things in the
volume. A visit to the home Of Cowper is thus
described -
81 am quite full OF CoUper, and can think and
write Ot nothing else, having just re urned from
exploring scenes which his genius has immor-
talized. arrived here about 2 o'clock an took
up my quarters at the inn IN the market place
just opposite the house in which he lived for
nearly twenty years The house is one Of con.
siderable antiquity, built Of red brick and is now
most gloomy and dcplOrable in appearance,
being inhabited only in part and that by people
who are kept close prisoners, being fearful of
opening the doors lest the baiias should
enter ina very different state of things 70
that which it presented when the author OF
The Task was It's tenant, and Lady Austin was
his guest. Things being rs | have stated, find
II impossible 10 gain admittauce to the interior
OF the said mansion, so must content myself with
gazing on the outer walls, while Imagination pic
lures 10 herself the scenes once exhibited within.
And oh who that has any spark Of genius or of
piety, can look upon that building, ugly and dis
figured ana gloomy rs it is, without the deepest
emotion, when he reflects that beneath its roof a
poem was conceived and executed which will be
the pride and glory of our country, so long as
England has a name and place among the civil
lived and polished nations OF the earth
"Aiter dinner l set of, book in hand, for
Weston Underwood, a very small village, about
a mile aud a half from Oney. did not take
the carriage. road 10 it, but went, as the guide
recommended by the fields, visiting in the way
the eminenCe,' and other spots alluded 10 and
described in the pOems By this crcuUOus mode
i reached the hall, very old mansion, long the
residence of the GbrockmortOn family, the walks,
the strawberries, the gardens, the groves of
which are so amply delineated in the works of
Cowper. The last possessor, SIR George Throck-
moron, has recently died, and the present owner,
to whom the title does not descend, Is suffering
the house TO go 10 decay. Indeed, il is a miser-
able old place, very disadyantageously situated,
and not worth preserving As Cowper, however,
had spent many hours, aud perhaps some of the
few happy ones he was permitted TO enjoy within
the walls of that now tOrOrn and deserted man
sion, was determined, if possible to see the
interior, and my wish was gratitied, one of the
female servants showing me through the principal
apartments. But they had nothing about them,
only-and inat was enough to eudear them to
me-they had witnessed the social hours OF
Cowpei, and the genius Of the poet seemed to
Lin ger amid their silence and solitude.
Leaving the house, sought the gardener, who
introduced me to the garden and the wilderness.
He had been only eight years at Weston, and
knew nothing of Cowper personally. 1 found
him, however, civil and intelligent. Amongst
other things, he pointed out 10 me q shrub-the
hgnum YltG-whiCh the poet had planted with
his own hand more than thirty years ago. While
EaunteTing through the grounds the idea occurred
TO me that you would he gradfed, we'll as l,
with some plant from Weston 10 enrich, ard, as
IL were, to consecrate our humble shrubbey y at
Edge Hill. l communicated my desire IL the
gardener, which he Immediately proceeded TO
crafty, and, in pursuance of which, he has
packed up for me three China rose plants, which
i shall fend you by the coach, and which, as
soon as they arrive, you must cause to be put
into the ground"