W. C.
The letters of the poet to this amiable relative afford a pleasing insight into the recesses of his pious and sympathizing mind; and, if they have awakened the interest which they are so calculated to excite, the reader will feel concerned to find a chasm of ten years in this valuable correspondence; the more so as it was chiefly occasioned by a cause which it will soon be our painful office to detail in the course of the ensuing passages. In the autumn of the year in which he sustained the loss of his excellent brother, he wrote the following letter to Mr. Hill.
TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.[26]
Olney, Sept. 25, 1770.
Dear Joe,—I have not done conversing with terrestrial objects, though I should be happy were I able to hold more continual converse with a Friend above the skies. He has my heart, but he allows a corner in it for all who shew me kindness, and therefore one for you. The storm of sixty-three made a wreck of the friendships I had contracted in the course of many years, yours excepted, which has survived the tempest.
I thank you for your repeated invitation. Singular thanks are due to you for so singular an instance of your regard. I could not leave Olney, unless in a case of absolute necessity, without much inconvenience to myself and others.
W. C.