and his talents. In many cases, they have undoubtedly richly merited this censure; but there are some honorable exceptions, and amongst this class Cowper is pre-eminently distinguished. Of this wicked and foolish practice he had the utmost abhorrence; and in some instances it may be doubted whether he did not carry his aversion to flattery, almost to an opposite extreme; withholding praise where he knew it was due. The following lines occur almost at the commencement of his Table Talk. After painting the portrait of that most virtuous monarch, George the Third, in language as just as it is beautiful, he abruptly exclaims "Guard what you say; the patriotic tribe Will sneer, and charge you with a bribe-a bribe! In the character of Cowper there was not the slightest particle of ostentation; on no occasion did he assume any airs of consequence; he never aimed, or wished to be what he was not. Everything in the shape of affectation was the -object of his disgust. He loved simplicity without rudeness, and detested that squeamish mimicry of fine feeling which not unfrequently, either under the assumed garb of superior sanctity, or of ardent friendship, conceals the most pitiable imbecility and ignorance. It must be acknowledged that Cowper sometimes dipped his pen in gall. Some expressions the most bitterly sarcastic are to be found in his poems. Of his first volume it was said, by one of his friends, "There are many passages delicate, many sublime, many beautiful, many tender, many sweet, and many acrimonious." Cowper's satire, however, though keen and powerful as a whip of scorpions, was employed only to expose and punish the openly profligate, and the hypocritical professors of religion. Everything in the shape of deception he ever held in perfect detestation. The castigation of vice, of ignorance, or of dissimulation, was his object, when he became a satirist. If he held up philosophy to ridicule, it was that glare of false philosophy, which, instead of being beneficial to men, only led them from the plain and beaten track of truth, into paths of error and misery. He never wantonly, for the sake only of his own gratification, inflicted his satiric lash on a single individual. He became a satirist, not to give vent to a waspish, revengeful, and mali cious disposition, (to feelings of this kind he was an entire stranger, (but for the same purpose as the holy prophets of old were satirists, to expose, in mercy to mankind, the hideous deformity of those vices, which have ever been the fruitful parents of misery to mankind. The exquisite sensibility of Cowper, and the real goodness of his disposition, with his entire abhorrence of cruelty, whether practised by man towards his own species, or towards any part of the Creator's works, are evinced by the following striking lines "I would not enter on my list of friends, Though graced with polished manners and fine sense, Who needlessly sets foot upon a worm. ;"; Whitelti An inadvertent step may crush the snailaladun But he that has humanity easu-public path; forewarned, By Hudding ills, that ask a prudent hand T check them. But, alas! none sooner shoots, By which Heaven moves in pardoning guilty man; From creatures that exist but for our sake, Of what he deems no mean or trivial trust!" Liberty has always been the soul-inspiring theme of poets. On no subject has the muse sung in sweeter strains, or towered to more sublime heights. Cowper has given ample proofs that his muse felt all the fire of this ennobling theme. In his Table Talk, some beautiful lines will be found on this interesting subject, so dear to the heart of every Englishman; but in his most masterly production, the Task, he thus sings and his talents. In many cases, they have und merited this censure; but there are some he tions, and amongst this class Cowper is pre-e guished. Of this wicked and foolish practice most abhorrence; and in some instances it whether he did not carry his aversion to fla an opposite extreme; withholding praise wh was due. The following lines occur almost at ment of his Table Talk. After painting the most virtuous monarch, George the Third, just as it is beautiful, he abruptly exclaims "Guard what you say; the patriotic tribe was the The liberty of Cowper was not, however, that straint which, under the sacred name of liberty, would asunder all those bands that hold society together, and intr duce confusion infinitely more to be dreaded than the mos absolute despotism. It was not the wild and unrestrained liberty of the ferocious mob; it was the liberty that is compatible with wholesome restraint, and with the due administration of law. It was the liberty not of disorder but of discipline, as will be seen by the following beautiful lines— "Let Discipline employ her wholesome arts; of his disposto, vitt 3 LAMINA whether practised by a twentie en gaa wards any part of the UAB following striking "I would not enter in =" & Though graces nd hung her drooping head- iousness should bear the blame!" the charms of subjects like these to thers of a different character which he nd ever regarded as more important. cessor, Milton, he had made the sacred t study; not so much because he adhagery of the holy penmen (alive as he ues in this respect,) as because he felt the divine truth upon his heart; which, notwithne severe pressure of his malady, would sometimes That cravis at cnim an interval of pleasure. It was undoubtedly on my of these happy occasions that he penned the following ines, so strikingly descriptive of the refined pleasure with which the Christian can view the works of Nature Yet wanting sea An inadverte But he had Will tread ande, a Te, therefore, To love Is soon By h "He looks abroad into the varied field Of Nature; and though poor, perhaps, compared His are the mountains, and the valleys his, Although Cowper, towards the close of his life, before he received his Majesty's pension, owing to the heavy expenses occasioned by his own and Mrs. Unwin's illness, was scarcely able to keep his expenditure within the limits of his income, yet he was never once heard to complain, nor even to indulge the slightest disposition to be otherwise than contented in the station where Providence had placed him. Writing to his intimate friend, Mr. Hill, on one occasion, whom he appears to have made his treasurer, he remarks:-"Your tidings respecting the slender pittance yet to come, are, as you observe, of a melancholy cast. Not being gifted, however, by nature with the means of acquiring much, it is well that she has given me a disposition to be contented with little., I have now been so many years habituated to small matters, that I should probably find myself incommoded by greater, and, may I but be enabled to shift, as I have been hitherto, unsatisfied wishes will not trouble me much." He said On another occasion, to the same individual he writes:"I suppose you are sometimes troubled on my account, but you need not. I have no doubt that it will be seen, when my days are closed, that I served a Master who would not suffer me to want anything that was good for me. to Jacob, I will surely do thee good; and this he said not for his sake only, but for ours also, if we trust in him. This thought relieves me from the greatest part of the distress I should else suffer in my present circumstances, and enables me to sit down peacefully upon the wreck of my fortune." The same sentiment is still more forcibly expressed in the following lines: 66 Fair is the lot that's cast for me; For whom the Lord vouchsafes to plead." Perhaps no individual ever felt more fully the power of religion in his heart, or embodied it more completely in his life, than Cowper. The apprehensions, for his ultimate safety, by which he was so continually harassed, depressive as was their influence on his mind, never relaxed, in any degree, that severe watchfulness which religion had taught him to exercise over his thoughts and conduct. On the contrary, |