LONDON, Tuesday, November 26th, 1872.
—Lately I have been reading for anything but the 1st time that pathetic thing, the Life of Cowper by Southey. It always interests and absorbs me strangely and I get such overflows of compassion for that sad soul as I can't describe. Even at this distance of 90 years, it is almost intolerable to think of all he endured, and yet one's faith is strengthened by it. For what but the Love of Christ which passeth knowledge could have upborne poor Cowper in his black darkness and misery, fulfilling in him to a degree never equalled the truth of those wonderful words, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him."