and fhynefs of his nature, which difqualified him for fcenes of bufinefs and ambition, endeared him inexpreffi bly to thofe, who had opportunities to enjoy his fociety, and faculties to appreciate the uncommon excellence of his interesting character. Referved as he was, to an extraordinary and painful degree, his heart and mind were yet admirably fashioned by nature for all the refined intercourfe and confidential delights both of friendship and of love: but though apparently formed to poffefs, and to communicate an extraordinary portion of mortal felicity, the in-. cidents of his life were fuch, that, confpiring with the peculiarities of his nature, they rendered him, at different times, the most unhappy of mankind. The varie ty and depth of his fufferings, in early life, from extreme tenderness of heart, are very forcibly difplayed in the following verfes, which formed part of a letter to one of his female relations at the time they were compofed. The letter has perifhed; and the verses owe their prefervation to the affectionate memory of the la dy to whom they were addreffed. Doom'd, as I am, in folitude to walte The prefent moments, and regret the past; My friend torn from me, and my mistress loft :- * Sir William Ruffel, the favourite friend of the young Poet, Whofe heart the real claim of friendship knows, When he quitted the house of the folicitor, where he was placed to acquire the rudiments of litigation, he fettled himself in chambers of the Inner-Temple, as a reg ular student of law; but although he refided there to the age of thirty-three, he rambled (according to his own colloquial account of his early years) from the thorny road of his auftere patroness, jurisprudence, into the primrose paths of literature and poetry. Even here his native diffidence confined him to focial and fubordinate exertions :-He wrote and printed both profe and verfe, as the concealed affiftant of lefs diffident authors. During his refidence in the Temple, he cultivated the friendship of fome eminent literary characters, who had been his fchool-fellows at Westminster, particularly Col-A man, Bonnel, Thornton, and Lloyd. His regard to the two first induced him to contribute to their periodical publication, entitled the Connoiffeur, three excellent papers, which the reader will find in the Appendix to thefe volumes, and from which he will perceive, that Cowper had fuch talents for this pleasant and useful species of compofition, as might have rendered him a worthy affociate, in fuch labours, to Addison himself, whofe graceful powers have never been furpaffed in that prov ince of literature, which may ftill be confidered as peculiarly his own. The intimacy of Cowper and Lloyd may have given rife perhaps to fome early productions of our Poet, which it may now be hardly poffible to ascertain ;----the probability of this conjecture arifes from the neceffities of Lloyd, and the affectionate liberality of his friend. As the former was tempted by his narrow finances to engage in periodical works, it is highly probable that the pen of Cowper, ever ready to fecond the charitable wishes of his heart, might be devoted to the fervice of anindigent author, whom he appears to have loved with a very cordial affection. I find that affection agreeably displayed in a sportive poetical epiftle, which may claima place in this volume, not only as an early fpecimen of Cowper's poetry, but as exhibiting a sketch of his own mind at the age of twenty three. AN EPISTLE TO ROBERT LLOYD, ESQ. 1754 'Tis not that I defign to rob Thee of thy birth-right, gentle Bob, When God and you know, I have neither By letting poetry alone. 'Tis not with either of these views, That I prefume t' addrefs the mufe. Make cruel inroads in my brain, ; And daily threaten to drive thence The fierce banditti, which I mean, Are gloomy thoughts, led on by spleen. The debt, which justly became due Since twenty fheets of lead, God knows First, for a thought-fince all agree- Dame Gurton thus, and Hodge her fon, In every fhining straw fhe fees. * Pitch-kettled a favourite phrafe at the time when this epistle was written, expreffive of being puzzled, or what, in the Spectators' time, would have been called bamboozled. The Virtuofo thus, at noon Broiling beneath a July fun, O'er hedge and ditch, through gaps and mèws; To captivate the tempting prey, Flits out of fight, and mocks his pains. But as too much obfcures the fight, We have our fimiliès cut fhort, For matters of more grave import. That Matthew's numbers run with eafe, Matthew (fays Fame) with endless pains *That, while the language lives, fhall laft. Sure fo much labour, fo much toil, Bespeak at least a stubborn foil: Who both write well, and write full speed! |