(July, 1804.) The Life and Posthumous Writings of WILLIAM COWPER, Esq. With an Introductory Letter to the Right Honourable Earl Cowper. By WILLIAM HAYLEY, Esq. Vol. III. 4to. pp. 416. Johnson, London: 1804. THIS is the continuation of a work of which | public; and having lived in a state of entire we recently submitted a very ample account seclusion from the world, there were no anecand a very full character to our readers: On dotes of his conversation, his habits or opinthat occasion, we took the liberty of observ-ions, in circulation among his admirers. The ing, that two quarto volumes seemed to be publication of his correspondence has in a almost as much as the biography of a seclud- great measure supplied this deficiency; and ed scholar was entitled to occupy; and, with we now know almost as much of Cowper as a little judicious compression, we are still of we do of those authors who have spent their opinion that the life and correspondence of days in the centre and glare of literary or Cowper might be advantageously included in fashionable notoriety. These letters, however, somewhat narrower limits. We are by no will continue to be read, long after the curi means disposed, however, to quarrel with this osity is gratified to which perhaps they owed third volume, which is more interesting, if their first celebrity: for the character with possible, than either of the two former, and which they make us acquuinted, will always will be read, we have no doubt, with general attract by its rarity, and engage by its eleadmiration and delight. gance. The feminine delicacy and purity of Though it still bears the title of the life of Cowper's manners and disposition, the roCowper, this volume contains no further par-mantic and unbroken retirement in which his ticulars of his history; but is entirely made up of a collection of his letters, introduced by a long, rambling dissertation on letter-writing in general, from the pen of his biographer. This prologue, we think, possesses no peculiar merit. The writer has no vigour, and very little vivacity; his mind seems to be cultivated, but not at all fertile; and, while he always keeps at a safe distance from extravagance or absurdity, he does not seem to be uniformly capable of distinguishing affect ation from elegance, or dulness from good judgment. This discourse upon letter-writing, in short, contains nothing that might not have been omitted with considerable advantage to the publication; and we are rather inclined to think, that those who are ambitious of being introduced to the presence of Cowper, will do well not to linger very long in the antichamber with Mr. Hayley. Of the letters themselves, we may safely assert, that we have rarely met with any similar collection, of superior interest or beauty. Though the incidents to which they relate be of no public magnitude or moment, and the remarks which they contain are not uniformly profound or original, yet there is something in the sweetness and facility of the diction, and more, perhaps, in the glimpses they afford of a pure and benevolent mind, that diffuses a charm over the whole collection, and communicates an interest that is not often commanded by performances of greater dignity and pretension. This interest was promoted and assisted, no doubt, in a considerable degree, by that curiosity which always seeks to penetrate into the privacy of celebrated men, and which had been almost entirely frustrated in the instance of Cowper, till the appearance of this publication. Though his writings had long been extremely popular, the author himself was scarcely known to the innocent life was passed, and the singular gentleness and modesty of his whole character, disarm him of those terrors that so often shed an atmosphere of repulsion around the persons of celebrated writers, and make us more indulgent to his weaknesses, and more delighted with his excellences, than if he had been the centre of a circle of wits, or the oracle of a literary confederacy. The interest of this picture is still further heightened by the recollection of that tremendous malady, to the visitations of which he was subject, and by the spectacle of that perpetual conflict which was maintained, through the greater part of his life, between the depression of those constitutional horrors, and the gaiety that resulted from a playful imagination, and a heart animated by the mildest affections. In the letters now before us, Cowper dis plays a great deal of all those peculiarities by which his character was adorned or distinguished; he is frequently the subject of his own observations, and often delineates the finer features of his understanding with all the industry and impartiality of a stranger. But the most interesting traits are those which are unintentionally discovered, and which the reader collects from expressions that were employed for very different purposes. Among the most obvious, perhaps, as well as the most important of these, is that extraordinary combination of shyness and ambition, to which we are probably indebted for the very existence of his poetry. Being disqualified, by the former, from vindicating his proper place in the ordinary scenes either of business or of society, he was excited, by the latter, to at tempt the only other avenue to reputation that appeared to be open, and to assert the real dignity of the talents with which he felt that he was gifted. If he could only have mus tered courage enough to read the journals of the House of Lords, or been able to get over the diffidence which fettered his utterance in general society, his genius would probably have evaporated in conversation, or been contented with the humbler glory of contributing to the Rolliad or the Connoisseur. As the present collection relates to no particular set of subjects or occurrences, but exhibits a view of the author's miscellaneous correspondence with the few intimate friends he had retained, it is impossible to give any abstract of its contents, or to observe any order in the extracts that may be made from it. We shall endeavour, however, to introduce as great a variety as possible. Though living altogether in retirement, Cowper appears to have retained a very nice perception of the proprieties of conduct and manners, and to have exercised a great deal of acuteness and sagacity upon the few subjects of practical importance which he had occasion to consider. The following sketch is by a fine and masterly hand; and proves how much a bashful recluse may excel a gentleman from the grand tour in delicacy of observation and just notions of politeness. men, would alarm him no more than the chairs they sit on. Such is the effect of custom."—p. 60. There is much acuteness in the following examination of Dr. Paley's argument in favour of the English hierarchy. "He says first, that the appointment of various orders in the church, is attended with this good consequence, that each class of people is supplied with a clergy of their own level and description, with whom they may live and associate on terms pose, there ought to be at least three parsons in of equality. But in order to effect this good purevery parish; one for the gentry, one for the traders and mechanics, and one for the lowest of the vulgar. Neither is it easy to find many parishes. where the laity at large have any society with their minister at all: this therefore is fanciful, and a mere invention. In the next place, he says it gives a dignity to the ministry itself; and the clergy share in the respect paid to their superiors. Much good may such participation do them! They themselves know how little it amounts to. The dignity a curate derives from the lawn sleeves and square cap of his diocesan, will never endanger his humility have been justly regarded as prizes, held out to inAgain-Rich and splendid situations in the church, vite persons of good hopes and ingenious attainments.' Agreed. But the prize held out in the Scripture, is of a very different kind; and our ecclesiastical baits are too often snapped by the worth did not feel myself vehemently disposed to receive less, and persons of no attainments at all. They him with that complaisance, from which a stranger not to those acquirements, by which only the minare indeed incentives to avarice and ambition, but generally infers that he is welcome. By his man-isterial function can be adorned, zeal for the salvaner, which was rather bold than easy, I judged that there was no occasion for it; and that it was a trifle which, if he did not meet with, neither would he feel the want of. He has the air of a travelled man, One of the most remarkable things in this but not of a travelled gentleman; is quite delivered volume, is the great profusion of witty and from that reserve, which is so common an ingre- humorous passages which it contains; though dient in the English character, yet does not open himself gently and gradually, as men of polite be- they are usually so short, and stand so much haviour do, but bursts upon you all at once. He connected with more indifferent matter, that talks very loud; and when our poor little robins it is not easy to give any tolerable notion of hear a great noise, they are immediately seized with them by an extract. His style of narrative is an ambition to surpass it-the increase of their vo- particularly gay and pleasing, though the inciferation occasioned an increase of his; and his, in cidents are generally too trifling to bear a return, acted as a stimulus upon theirs-neither side entertained a thought of giving up the contest, which separation from the whole tissue of the corbecame continually more interesting to our ears respondence. We venture on the following during the whole visit. The birds, however, sur- account of an election visit. vived it, and so did we. They perhaps flatter themselves they gained a complete victory, but I believe Mr. would have killed them both in another hour."-pp. 17, 18. "Since I wrote last, we had a visit from I Cowper's antipathy to public schools is well known to all the readers of his poetry. There are many excellent remarks on that subject in these letters. We can only find room for the following. tion of men, humility, and self-denial. Mr. Paley and I therefore cannot agree."—pp. 172, 173. water finds its way into creeks and holes of rocks, "As when the sea is uncommonly agitated, the which in its calmer state it never reaches, in like manner the effect of these turbulent times is felt even at Orchard-side, where in general we live as undisturbed by the political element, as shrimps or cockles that have been accidently deposited in some hollow beyond the water-mark, by the usual dashing of the waves. We were sitting yesterday after dinner, the two ladies and myself, very composedly, "A public education is often recommended as the and without the least apprehension of any such inmost effectual remedy for that bashful and awkward trusion, in our snug parlour, one lady knitting, the restraint, so epidemical among the youth of our other netting, and the gentleman winding worsted, country. But I verily believe, that, instead of being when, to our unspeakable surprise, a mob appeared a cure, it is often the cause of it. For seven or before the window, a smart rap was heard at the eight years of his life, the boy has hardly seen or door, the boys halloo'd, and the maid announced conversed with a man, or a woman, except the Mr. G. Puss* was unfortunately let out of her mails at his boarding house. A gentleman or a box, so that the candidate, with all his good friends lady, are consequently such novelties to him, that at his heels, was refused admittance at the grand he is perfectly at a loss to know what sort of beha-entry, and referred to the back door, as the only viour he should preserve before them. He plays possible way of approach. with his buttons, or the strings of his hat, he blows "Candidates are creatures not very susceptible his nose, and hangs down his head, is conscious of of affronts, and would rather, I suppose, climb in his own deficiency to a degree that makes him quite at the window than be absolutely excluded. In a unhappy, and trembles lest any one should speak to minute, the yard, the kitchen, and the parlour were him, because that would quite overwhelm him. Is filled. Mr. G-, advancing toward me, shook not all this miserable shyness the effect of his edu-me by the hand with a degree of cordiality that was cation? To me it appears to be so. If he saw good extremely seducing. As soon as he, and as many company every day, he would never be terrified at the sight of it, and a room full of ladies and gentle His tame hare. woman, a very old one, the first night that she as could find chairs were seated, he began to open the intent of his visit. I told him I had no vote, for which he readily gave me credit. I assured him I had no influence, which he was not equally inclined to believe, and the less no doubt because Mr. Gaddressing himself to me at that moment, informed me that I had a great deal. Supposing that I could not be possessed of such a treasure without knowing pected to abound in poetical imagery and The correspondence of a poet may be exit, I ventured to confirm my first assertion, by saying, that if I had any, I was utterly at a loss to sentiments. They do not form the most imagine where it could be, or wherein it consisted. prominent parts of this collection, but they Thus ended the conference. Mr. G-squeezed occur in sufficient profusion; and we have me by the hand again, kissed the ladies, and with-been agreeably surprised to find in these let drew. He kissed likewise the maid in the kitchen; ters the germs of many of the finest passages and seemed upon the whole a most loving, kissing, in the "Task." There is all the ardour of kind-hearted gentleman. He is very young, gen. teel, and handsome. He has a pair of very good poetry and devotion in the following passages. eyes in his head, which not being sufficient as it "Oh! I could spend whole days, and moon-light should seem for the many nice and difficult purposes nights, in feeding upon a lovely prospect! My eyes of a senator, he had a third also, which he wore drink the rivers as they flow. If every human be suspended by a riband from his button-hole. The ing upon earth could think for one quarter of an boys halloo'd, the dogs barked, puss scampered; hour, as I have done for many years, there might the hero, with his long train of obsequious followers, perhaps be many miserable men among them, but withdrew. We made ourselves very merry with not an unawakened one could be found, from the the adventure, and in a short time settled into our arctic to the antarctic circle. At present, the difformer tranquillity, never probably to be thus interference between them and me is greatly to their rupted more. I thought myself, however, happy advantage. I delight in baubles, and know them to in being able to affirm truly, that I had not that in- be so; for, rested in, and viewed without a referfluence for which he sued, and for which, had I ence to their Author, what is the earth, what are been possessed of it, with my present views of the the planets, what is the sun itself, but a bauble? dispute between the Crown and the Commons. I Better for a man never to have seen them, or to see must have refused him, for he is on the side of the them with the eyes of a brute, stupid and uncon former. It is comfortable to be of no consequence scious of what he beholds, than not to be able to in a world where one cannot exercise any without say, The Maker of all these wonders is my friend!' disobliging somebody."-pp. 242-244. Their eyes have never been opened, to see that Melancholy and dejected men often amuse they are trifles; mine have been, and will be, till themselves with pursuits that seem to indicate they are closed for ever. They think a fine estate, the greatest levity. Swift wrote all sorts of a large conservatory, a hot-house rich as a West Indian garden, things of consequence; visit them doggrel and absurdity while tormented with with pleasure, and muse upon them with ten times spleen, giddiness. and misanthropy. Cowper more. I am pleased with a frame of four lights, composed John Gilpin during a season of most doubtful whether the few pines it contains will ever deplorable depression, and probably indited be worth a farthing; amuse myself with a greenthe rhyming letter which appears in this col-house, which Lord Bute's gardener could take upon lection, in a moment equally gloomy. For the amusement of our readers, we annex the concluding paragraph, containing a simile, of which we think they must immediately feel the propriety. "I have heard before of a room, with a floor laid upon springs, and such like things, with so much art, in every part, that when you went in, you was forced to begin a minuet pace, with an air and a grace, swimming about, now in and now out, with a deal of state, in a figure of eight, without pipe or string, or any such thing; and now I have writ, in a rhyming fit, what will make you dance, and as you advance, will keep you still, though against your will, dancing away, alert and gay, till you come to an end of what I have penn'd; which that you may do, ere madam and you, are quite worn out, with jiggling about, I take my leave; and here you receive a bow profound, down to the ground, from your humble me-W. C."-p. 89. As a contrast to this ridiculous effusion, we add the following brief statement, which, notwithstanding its humble simplicity, appears o us to be an example of the true pathetic. "You never said a better thing in your life, than when you assured Mr. of the expedience of a gift of bedding to the poor of Olney. There is no one article of this world's comforts with which, as Falstaff says, they are so heinously unprovided. When a poor woman, whom we know well, carried home two pair of blankets, a pair for herself and husband, and a pair for her six children, as soon as the children saw them, they jumped out of their straw, caught them in their arms, kissed them, blessed them and danced for joy. Another old paid it the accustomed visit, and watered it, and his back, and walk away with; and when I have given it air, I say to myself This is not mine, 'tis a plaything lent me for the present, I must leave it soon."-pp. 19, 20. "We keep no bees; but if I lived in a hive, I should hardly hear more of their music. All the bees in the neighbourhood resort to a bed of mig nonette, opposite to the window, and pay me for the honey they get out of it, by a hum, which, though rather monotonous, is as agreeable to my ear, as the whistling of my linnets. All the sounds that nature utters are delightful, at least in this country. I should not perhaps find the roaring of lions in Africa, or of bears in Russia, very pleasing; but I know no beast in England whose voice I do not account musical, save and except always the braying of an ass. The notes of all our birds and fowls please me, without one exception. I should not indeed think of keeping a goose in a cage, that I might hang him up in the parlour, for the sake of his melody; but a goose upon a common, or in a farmı yard, is no bad performer. And as to insects, if the black beetle, and beetles indeed of all hues, will the rest; on the contrary, in whatever key they keep out of my way, I have no objection to any of sing, from the knat's fine treble to the bass of the humble bee. I admire them all. Seriously, however, it strikes me as a very observable instance of providential kindness to man, that such an exact accord has been contrived between his ear and the sounds with which, at least in a rural situation, it is almost every moment visited. All the world is sensible of the uncomfortable effect that certain sounds have upon the nerves, and consequently upon the spirits; and if a sinful world had been filled with such as would have curdled the blood, and have made the sense of hearing a perpetual in He thinks that he is skilfully searching the hearts of others, while he is only gratifying the malignity of his own; and charitably supposes his hearers destitute of all grace, that he may shine the more in his own eyes by comparison."-pp. 179, 180. convenience, I do not know that we should have | for Christ, when he is fighting for his own notions. had a right to complain.-There is somewhere in infinite space, a world that does not roll within the precincts of mercy; and as it is reasonable, and even scriptural, to suppose that there is music in heaven, in those dismal regions perhaps the reverse of it is found. Tones so dismal, as to make woe itself more insupportable, and to acuminate even despair. But my paper admonishes me in good time to draw the reins, and to check the descent of my fancy into deeps with which she is but too familiar. pp. 287-289. The following short sketches, though not marked with so much enthusiasm, are conceived with the same vigour and distinctness. "When we look back upon our forefathers, we seem to look back upon the people of another nation, almost upon creatures of another species. Their vast rambling mansions, spacious halls, and painted casements, their Gothic porches smothered with honeysuckles, their little gardens and high walls, their box-edgings, balls of holly, and yew. tree statues, are become so entirely unfashionable now, that we can hardly believe it possible that a people who resembled us so little in their taste, should resemble us in any thing else. But in every thing else, I suppose, they were our counterparts exactly; and time, that has sewed up the slashed sleeve, and reduced the large trunk-hose to a neat pair of silk stockings, has left human nature just where it found it. The inside of the man, at least, has undergone no change. His passions, appetites, and aims are just what they ever were. They wear perhaps a handsomer disguise than they did in days of yore; for philosophy and literature will have their effect upon the exterior; but in every other respect a modern is only an ancient in a different dress." p. 48. "I am much obliged to you for the voyages, which I received, and began to read last night. My imagination is so captivated upon these occasions, that I seem to partake with the navigators in all the dangers they encountered. I lose my anchor; my main-sail is rent into shreds; 1 kill a shark, and by signs converse with a Patagonian,-and all this without moving from the fire-side. The principal fruits of these circuits that have been made around the globe, seem likely to be the amusement of those that staid at home. Discoveries have been made, but such discoveries as will hardly satisfy the expense of such undertakings. We brought away an Indian, and, having debauched him, we sent him home again to communicate the infection to his country-fine sports to be sure, but such as will not defray the cost. Nations that live upon breadfruit, and have no mines to make them worthy of our acquaintance, will be but little visited for the future. So much the better for them; their poverty is indeed their mercy."-pp. 201, 202. ence. Cowper's religious impressions occupied too great a portion of his thoughts, and exercised too great an influence on his character, not to make a prominent figure in his correspondThey form the subject of many eloquent and glowing passages; and have sometimes suggested sentiments and expressions that cannot be perused without compassion and regret. The following passage, however, is liberal and important. No man was ever scolded out of his sins. The heart, corrupt as it is, and because it is so, grows angry if it be not treated with some management and good manners, and scolds again. A surly mas. tiff will bear perhaps to be stroked, though he will growl even under that operation; but if you touch him roughly, he will bite. There is no grace that the spirit of self can counterfeit with more success than a religious zeal. A man thinks he is fighting The following, too, is in a fine style of eloquence. "We have exchanged a zeal that was no better than madness, for an indifference equally pitiable and absurd. The holy sepulchre has lost its importance in the eyes of nations called Christian; not because the light of true wisdom had delivered them from a superstitious attachment to the spot, but because he that was buried in it is no longer regarded by them as the Saviour of the world. The exercise of reason, enlightened by philosophy, has cured them indeed of the misery of an abused understanding; but, together with the delusion,. they have lost the substance, and, for the sake of the lies that were grafted upon it, have quarrelled with the truth itself. Here, then, we see the ne plus ultra of human wisdom, at least in affairs of religion. It enlightens the mind with respect to non-essentials; but, with respect to that in which the essence of Christianity consists, leaves it perfectly in the dark. It can discover many errors, that in different ages have disgraced the faith; but it is only to make way for the admission of one more fatal than them all, which represents that faith itself as a delusion. Why those evils have been permitted, shall be known hereafter. One thing in the meantime is certain; that the folly and frenzy of the professed disciples of the gospel have been more dangerous to its interest than all the avowed hostilities of its adversaries."-pp. 200, 201. There are many passages that breathe the very spirit of Christian gentleness and sober judgment. But when he talks of his friend Mr. Newton's prophetic intimations (p. 35.), and maintains that a great proportion of the ladies and gentlemen who amuse themselves with dancing at Brighthelmstone, must necessarily be damned (p. 100.), we cannot feel the same respect for his understanding, and are repelled by the austerity of his faith. The most remarkable passage of this kind, however, is that in which he supposes the death of the celebrated Captain Cook to have been a judgment on him for having allowed himself to be worshipped at Owhyhee. Mr. Hayley assures us, in a note, that Cowper proceeded altogether on a misapprehension of the fact. The passage, however, is curious, and shows with what eagerness his powerful mind followed that train of superstition into which his devotion was sometimes so unfortunately betrayed. The reading of those volumes afforded me much amusement, and I hope some instruction. No observation, however, forced itself upon me with more violence than one, that I could not help making, on the death of Captain Cook. God is a jealous God; and at Owhyhee the poor man was content to be worshipped! From that moment, the remarkable interposition of Providence in his favour, was converted into an opposition that thwarted all his purposes. He left the scene of his deification, but was driven back to it by a most violent storm, in which he suffered more than m any that had preceded it. When he departed, he left his worshippers still infatuated with an idea of his godship, consequently well disposed to serve At his return, he found them sullen, dishim. trustful, and mysterious. A trifling theft was com mitted, which, by a blunder of his own in pursuing the thief after the property had been restored, was magnified to an affair of the last importance. One of their favourite chiefs was killed, too, by a blunder. Nothing, in short, but blunder and mistake attended him, till he fell breathless into the water and then all was smooth again! The world indeed will not take notice, or see that the dispensation bore evident marks of divine displeasure; but a mind, I think, in any degree spiritual, cannot overlook them."-pp. 293, 294. From these extracts, our readers will now be able to form a pretty accurate notion of the contents and composition of this volume. Its chief merit consists in the singular ease, elegance, and familiarity with which every thing is expressed, and in the simplicity and sincerity in which every thing appears to be conceived. Its chief fault, perhaps, is the too frequent recurrence of those apologies for dull letters, and complaints of the want of subjects, that seem occasionally to bring it down to the level of an ordinary correspondence, and to represent Cowper as one of those who make every letter its own subject, and correspond with their friends by talking about their correspondence. Besides the subjects, of which we have exhibited some specimens, it contains a good deal of occasional criticism, of which we do not think very highly. It is not easy, indeed, to say to what degree the judgments of those who live in the world are biassed by the opinions that prevail in it; but, in matters of this kind, the general prevalence of an opinion is almost the only test we can have of its truth; and the judgment of a secluded man is almost as justly convicted of error, when it runs counter to that opinion, as it is extolled for sagacity, when it happens to coincide with it. The critical remarks of Cowper furnish us with instances of both sorts; but perhaps with most of the former. His admiration of Mrs. Macanlay's History, and the rapture with which he speaks of the Henry and Emma of Prior, and the compositions of Churchill, will not, we should imagine, attract the sympathy of many readers, or suspend the sentence which time appears to be passing on those performances. As there is scarcely any thing of love in the poetry of Cowper, it is not very wonderful that there should be nothing of it in his correspondence. There is something very tender and amiable in his affection for his cousin Lady Hesketh; but we do not remember any passage where he approaches to the language of gallantry, or appears to have indulged in the sentiments that might have led to its employment. It is also somewhat remarkable, that during the whole course of his retirement, though a good deal embarrassed in his circumstances, and frequently very much distressed for want of employment, he never seems to have had an idea of betaking himself to a profession. The solution of this difficulty is probably to be found in the infirmity of his mental health: but there were ten or twelve years of his life, when he seems to have been fit for any exertion that did not require a public appearance, and to have suffered very much from the want of all occupation. This volume closes with a fragment of a poem by Cowper, which Mr. Hayley was fortunate enough to discover by accident among some loose papers which had been found in the poet's study. It consists of something less than two hundred lines, and is addressed to a very ancient and decayed oak in the vicinity of Weston. We do not think quite so highly of this production as the editor appears to do; at the same time that we confess it to be impressed with all the marks of Cowper's most vigorous hand: we do not know any of his compositions, indeed, that affords a more striking exemplification of most of the excellences and defects of his peculiar style, or might be more fairly quoted as a specimen of his manner. It is full of the conceptions of a vigorous and poetical fancy, expressed in nervous and familiar language; but it is rendered harsh by unnecessary inversions, and debased in several places by the use of antiquated and vulgar phrases. The following are about the best lines which it contains. "Thou wast a bauble once; a cup and ball, Which babes might play with; and the thievish jay Seeking her food, with ease might have purloin'd Thy rudiments should sleep the winter through." 'Time made thee what thou wast-King of the And time hath made thee what thou art-a cave (Unless verse rescue thee awhile) a thing "One man alone, the father of us all, Drew not his life from woman; never gaz'd, On the whole, though we complain a littie of the size and the price of the volumes now before us, we take our leave of them with reluctance; and lay down our pen with no little regret, to think that we shall review no more of this author's productions. |