GAMBOLD. So many wondrous gleams of light, Ere long, when Sovereign Wisdom wills, Thoughts, virtues, friendships, griefs, and joys. 375 WILLIAM COWPER. Of this most Christian of our poets-in his theology the most evangelical, in his standard of right and wrong the most scriptural, and in his tone and spirit, constitutional melancholy notwithstanding, the most benevolent and cheerfulthere is no need that we should say anything. No literary career has so often tempted the biographical pen, and, selfportrayed in his charming lays and no less charming letters, no figure is more familiar to the English mind than the bard of Olney. Evenings too dull for a severer task, or too exhausted for a brisker excitement, have often been beguiled by his inimitable epistles. Our classical exercitations are associated with his effort, so hard but so hearty, to transfer into curt but sturdy English the thoughts which wander at their will along the sunny tide of Homer's song; and our knowledge of human nature has been enlarged by his clear intuitions, and his clever but not ill-natured descriptions. Many a merry schoolboy has been made still merrier by "The Diverting History of John Gilpin," and many a mourner in Zion has been consoled whilst seeking with him "the calm retreat, the silent shade," and praying for "a closer walk with God." And if art can desire no better picture of a homely modern Eden, than the Alcove at Olney, and its gentle occupant feeding his hares, the calamities of genius record few sadder tales than the dark eclipse of that fine mind, and its long and dreary setting. COWPER was born at Berkhampstead, November 26, 1731, and died at East Dereham, April 25, 1800. It was about 1772 that Cowper wrote most of the hymns which, to the number of sixty-eight, afterwards appeared in the Olney Collection. The first volume of his poems was published in 1782, and its much more successful companion followed in 1785, silencing at once the captiousness of criticism, and securing for ever the fame of the author of "The Task." Southey has well described the period at which Cowper's star surmounted the horizon:-"The Task' appeared in the interval when young minds were prepared to receive it, and at a juncture when there was no poet of any great ability or distinguished name in the field. Gray and Akenside were dead. Mason was silent. Glover, brooding over his 'Atheniad,' was regarded as belonging to an age that was past. Churchill was forgotten. Emily and Bampfylde had been cut off in the blossom of their youth. Crabbe having, by the publication of his 'Library,' his 'Village,' and his Newspaper,' accomplished his heart's immediate desire, sought at that time for no further publicity; and Hayley ambled over the course without a competitor. . . "The Task was at once descriptive, moral, and satirical. The descriptive parts everywhere bore evidence of a thoughtful mind and a gentle spirit, as well as of an observant eye; and the moral sentiment which pervaded them gave a charm in which descriptive poetry is often found wanting. The best didactic poems, when compared with 'The Task,' are like formal gardens in comparison with woodland scenery. . . . . Its satire is altogether free from personality; it is the satire, not of a sour and discontented spirit, but of a benevolent though melancholy mind; and the melancholy was not of a kind to affect artificial gloom and midnight musings, but rather to seek and find relief in sunshine, in the beauties of nature, in books and leisure, in solitary or social walks, and in the comforts of a quiet fireside."* The Author Himself. I was a stricken deer, that left the herd He drew them forth, and heal'd, and bade me live. The Pardoned Sinner. As when a felon, whom his country's laws * Southey's "Life of Cowper," vol. ii. pp. 181-194. If then, just then, all thoughts of mercy lost, Rocks, groves, and streams must join him in his praise. The Patriot and the Martyr. Patriots have toil'd, and in their country's cause COWPER. To those who, posted at the shrine of Truth, The sweets of liberty and equal laws; And win it with more pain. Their blood is shed Our claim to feed upon immortal truth, To soar, and to anticipate the skies! Yet few remember them. They lived unknown And chased them up to heaven. Their ashes flew- No bard embalms and sanctifies his song: He is the freeman whom the truth makes free, Of nature, and, though poor perhaps, compared But who, with filial confidence inspired, And smiling say-"My Father made them all!” Are they not his by a peculiar right, And by an emphasis of interest his, Whose eye they fill with tears of holy joy, Whose heart with praise, and whose exalted mind With worthy thoughts of that unwearied love 379 |