This is a reproduction of a library book that was digitized by Google as part of an ongoing effort to preserve the information in books and make it universally accessible. https://books.google.com 3 3433 07492361 0 f 1 L- oviP THE LIFE, AND POSTHUMOUS WRITINGS, OF WILLIAM COWPER, Esqr. WITH AN INTRODUCTORY LETTER TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE EARL COWPER. By WILLIAM HAYLEY, Esqr. " Observatur oculis ille vir, quo neminem atas nostra graviorem, sanctieren, iubtiliorem denique tulit : quern ego quum ex admirations diligere capissem, quod cvc- rare contra solet, tnagis admiratus sum, postquam pcnitus inspcxi. Inspexi enim pcni. las: nihil a me ille secretum, nonjoculare, mm serium, non triste, non latum." Plinii Epist. Lib. 4, Ep 17. <\Of\Jk.'J!*M/>\ VOL. II. - - -- .ij\ ^xv-yoS^ eijtc&efler. PRINTED BY J. SEAGRAVE, FOR J. JOHNSON, ST. PAUl/s CHURCH-YARD, LONDON. 1806. THE LIFE OF C OWPER. PARt THE SECOND. Avtjj New asra opens in the history ot the poet, from an incident that gave fresh ardour and vivacity to his fertile imagination. In 1781, he became acquainted with a lady, highly accomplished her self, and singularly happy in animating and direct ing the fancy of her poetical friends. The world will perfectly agree with me in this eulogy, when I add, that to this lady we are primarily indebted for the poem of the Task, for the ballad of John Gilpin, and for the translation of Homer. But in my lively «ense of her merit, I am almost forgetting my imme- VOL. 2. A diaje duty, as the biographer of the poet, to intro duce her circumstantially to the acquaintance of my reader. A lady, whose name was Jones, was one of the few neighbours admitted in the residence of the re tired poet. She was the wife of a clergyman, who resided at the village of Clifton, within a mile of Olney. Her sister, the widow of Sir Robert Austen, Baronet, came to pass some time with her in the sum mer of 1781 ; and as the two ladies chanced to call at a shop in Olney, opposite to the house of Mrs. Unwin, Cowper observed them from his window. — Although naturally shy, and now rendered more so by his very long illness, he was so struck with the ap pearance of the stranger, that on hearing she was sis ter to Mrs. Jones, be requested Mrs. Unwin to invite them to tea. So strong was his reluctance to admit the company of strangers, that after he had occasioned this invitation, he was for a long time unwilling to join the little party ; but havisg forced himself at last to engage in conversation with Lady Austen, he was so reanimated by her colloquial talents, that he attended the ladies on their return to Clifton, and from that time continued to cultivate the regard of his new acquaintance with such assiduous attention, thatdearing she title soon of received sister Ann. from him the familiar and €h- The great and happy influence, which an inci dent, that seems at first sight so trivial, produced very rapidly on the imagination of Cowper, will best appear from the following epistle, which, soon after Lady Austen's return to London for the winter, the poet addressed to her, on the seventeenth of Decem ber, 1781. • Dear Anna — between friend and friend, Prose answers every common end ; Serves, in a plain and homely way, T express th' occurrence of the day ; Our health, the weathtr, and the news; What walks we tok«. what books we chusc ; And all the floating thoughts we find Upon the surface of the mind. But when a poet takes the pen, . ' Far more alive than other men ; He feels a gentle tingling come Down to his finger and his thumb, Deriv'd from nature's noblest part, 'fhe centre of a glowing heart! And this is what the world, who knows No flights above the pitch of prose, A 2 ' HisDenominates more sublime an itch vagaries for writing. slighting, No wonder I, who scribble rhyme, ToTheWithAndWhich,WhenWhoShouldTo yourcatch loiterers tell labourall call'd feelcouch'd intrinsicmythem the that hardpurpose totriflersI truths never address in itching merit to prose, of allure, intermingling,saw,divine the true,myself and they time, andand that willto clear,draw, you.tingling, not hear ; Mysterious are his ways- whose power Brings forth that unexpected hour, When minds, that uever met before, Shall meet, unite, and part no more • It is th' allotment of the skies, The hand of the Supremely Wise, That guides and governs our affections, And plans and orders our connexions ; Directs us in our distant road, And marks the bounds of our abode. Thus we weie settled when you found us, Peasants and children all around us, Not dreaming of so dear a friend, Deep in the abyss of Silver-End.* • An obtcure part of Olney, adjoining to the residence of Cowper, which faced the market-place. Thus Martha, ev'n against her will, Perch'd on the top of yonder hill ; And you, though you must needs prefer The fairer scenes of sweet Sancerre,* Are come from distant Loire, to chuse A coitage on the banks of Ouse. This page of Providence quite new, And now just opening to our view, Employs our present thoughts and pains To guess, and spell, what it contains: But day by day, aud year by year, Will make the dark a:nigma clear ; And furnish us perhaps at last, Like other scenes already past, With proof, that we, and our affairs, Are part of a Jehovah's cares: For God unfolds, by slow degrees, The purport of his deep decrees ; Sheds every hour a clearer light In aid of our defective sight ; And spreads, at length, before the soul, A beautiful and perfect whole, Which busy man's inventive brain Toils to anticipate in vain. Say, Anna, had you never known, The beauties of a rose full blown, * Lady Austen's residence ia Fiance Could you, tho' luminous your eye, By looking on the bud descry, Or guess, with a prophetic power, The future splendor of the flerwer ? Just so th' Omnipotent who turns The system of a world's concerns, From mere minutiae can educe Events of most important use ; And bid a dawning sky display The blaze of a meridian day. The works of man tend one and all, As needs they must, from great to small ; And vanity absorbs at length The monuments of human strength. But who can tell how vast the plan Which this day's incident began ? Too small perhaps the slight occasion For our dim sighted observation; It pass'd unnotie'd, as the bird That cleaves the yielding air unheard, And yet may prove, when understood, An harbinger of endless good. Not that I deem, or mean to call Friendship a blessing cheap, or small ; But merely to remark, that ours, Like some of nature's sweetest flowers, R-.se from a seed of tiny size, That seemed to promise no such prize ; A transient visit intervening, And made almost without a meaning, (HardlyMuch less the of effect pleasing of inclination, expectation !) ProducedThatAnd plac'dhas cemented a itfriendship, in our us power in then one to begun, ; "prove, By long fidelity and love, That Solomon has wisely spoken ; " A three-fold cord is not soon broken." In this interesting poem the author expresses a lively and devout presage of the superior productions, that were to arise in the process of time, from a friendship so unexpected, and so pleasing ; but he does not seem to have been aware, in the slightest degree, of the evident dangeis that must naturally attend an intimacy so very close, yet perfectly innocent, be tween a poet and two ladies, who, with very different mental powers, had each reason to flatter herself that she could agreeably promote the studies, and animate the fancy of this fascinating bard. Genius of the most exquisite kind is sometimes, and perhaps generally, so modest, and diffident, as to require continual solicitation and encouragement, from the voice of sympathy, and friendship, to lead 8 it into permanent and successful exertion. Such was the genius of Cowper ; and he therefore considered the chearful and animating society of his new accom plished friend, as a blessing conferred on him by the signal favour of providence. I have reserved the fol lowing Letters, although of an earlier date than some of their predecessors, because they speak of Lady Austen, and could not therefore appear to advantage till the course of my narrative had rendered the rea der acquainted with that interesting lady. In speak ing of Cowper's first volume, and the circumstances of it's publication, I had occasion to proceed beyond the period when his friendship with Lady Austen com menced. In my first date of that veiy important event I have discovered, and corrected, a little mis take which probably arose from a slight failure in the recollection of that lady> when she favoured me with the particulars of her intercourse with the poet, whom ^he so happily inspired. Their acquaintance was said (in the first edition of this book) to have arisen in September 1781, but the following Letters clearly prove that Cowper had been enlivened by the socie-* fy of this animating friend, at an earlier period, LETTER I. To the Revd. WILLIAM UNWIN. July 29, 1781. MY DEAR FRIEND, Having given the case you laid before me in your last all due consideration, I proceed to answer it, and in order to clear my way, shall, in the first place, set down my sense of those passages in scripture, which, on a hasty perusal, seem to clash with the opinion I am going to give — " If a man smite one cheek, turn the other" — " If he take thy cloak, let him take thy coat also." — That is, I sup pose, rather than on a vindictive principle, avail your self of that remedy the law allows you, in the way of retaliation, for that was the subject immediately under the discussion of the speaker.