CONTENTS of No. XI. ART. I. Poems, by William Cowper, of the Inner Temple, Esq. Vol. III, containing his posthumous Poetry, and a sketch of his Life, by his kinsman, John Johnson, 231 the French, by W. J. Walter... VII. On Pericles and the Arts in Greece, previously to, and during the time he flourished VIII. Lectures on Scripture Parables, by William Bengo 'Collyer, D.D. F.A.S. and a vice-president of the Philosophical Society of London.......... 262 IX. Speech of Mr. Phillips, delivered in the court of Common Pleas, Dublin, in the case of Guthrie v. Speeches of the Right Hon. John Philpot Curran. The Descent of Liberty, a Mask; by Leigh Hunt. 287 Paris Revisited in 1815 by way of Brussels, includ- XIII. A Discourse delivered in the Roman Catholic Chapel of St. Chad, Birmingham. By the R. XIV. Considerations on the propriety of making a re- muneration to Witnesses in civil actions, &c. By XV. A Course of Lectures on Dramatic Art and Li- THE Augustan Review. No. XI. FOR MARCH, 1816. ART. I.-Poems by WILLIAM CowPER, Esq. of the Inner Temple. In Three Volumes, 12mo. Vol. III. containing his Posthumous Poetry, and a Sketch of his Life. By his kinsman JOHN JOHNSON, LL.D. Rector of Yaxham with Welborne, in Norfolk. pp. 320. Rivingtons; Law and Whittaker, &c. 1815. THE public are greatly indebted to the editor of this volume for this elegant addition to the works of Cowper. Many of the poems here collected have, as is candidly acknowledged in the preface, been already published in the Biography of Mr. Hayley; but that work is far too voluminous and costly to be within the reach of the middling and inferior classes of society, among whom Cowper's most charming scenes are laid, and whose sympathies and domestic joys he has been so peculiarly successful in depicting. Many little effusions worthy to accompany his longer pieces are also now for the first time given to the world. And to all those who are not possessed of Mr. Hayley's Memoir, the Sketch prefixed to these poems will be welcome, as an unaffected and faithful delineation of the character and life of one of the most gifted and amiable of his species. The merits of Cowper as a poet, are rather deeply felt than loudly proclaimed. His fame, like his own pure and humble spirit, has courted seclusion, and there chiefly it has flourished. There is a good deal in his writings that excites the sneer of the critical, the hatred of the worldly, and the jest of the profane. His warmest admirers confess that his versification is careless, his minuteness tedious, and his illustrations often childish and fanciful. But the genuine lovers of poetry can never forget that it was he who revived the sweetness and NO. XI. Aug, Rev. VOL. II. natural purity of our older writers, and who struck the lyre of those mighty bards of English fame with a humble but not unskilful hand. True it is, that he possessed neither of the two highest qualities of those powerful spirits; he could neither wield the stormier passions with their wild and supernatural force, nor, like them, throw the rich luxuriance of enchantment over the scenery which he described. He could neither clothe heroic characters in flesh and blood, and at once raise them to the height of imagination and bring them down to the level of ordinary feeling, nor create new worlds for a delighted fancy to expatiate in. He breathed however the simplest wood-notes of the elder bards in all their primitive sweetness. We had too long lavished admiration on the stately and classical productions of the continent; and on the less striking imitations of acknowledged models which our own country afforded; to the neglect of the old and venerable stock of our native genius, which was still ready to put forth new blossoms. It was reserved for Cowper to restore us to our proper taste, and to lead us to those pure and secluded fountains of inspiration, the paths to which we had almost forgotten. He presented us once more with nature in her simple and unborrowed charms. He conduct d us from the neatly-trimmed walks and majestic alcoves, amid which we had long been contented to wander, and set us down among fields and village hedge-rows, placing around us the varieties of hill and dale of which in more regular poems we only caught a distant glimpse. We seem to breathe the freshest air in every line of his descriptions, which though they want the richness of Thomson, and the tender enchantment of Collins, are exquisite because they are faithful to nature. And if his landscapes are refreshing to the eye, his portraits of lowly virtue, and his groups of humble affection, come home as directly to the heart. The poor cottager who "just knows and only knows her bible true," is an instance of those beautiful delineations of which his works afford numerous examples. Never was infidelity so successfully unmasked, or so effectually humbled, as in the comparison between that sainted mother and Voltaire-one the least enlightened, the other the brightest in intellect-one the humblest in self-esteem, the other the proudest-one the happiest in prospect, the other the most wretched. Mr. Wordsworth alone in his "Old Cumberland Beggar," one of those poems which make us at once regret and pardon his follies, has equalled if not surpassed it in his account of one poor woman who, "though pinch'd herself with her wants," when the venerable pensioner makes his weekly call, "takes one unsparing handful "from her scrip," and "returning with invigorated heart, sits by her fire and builds her hope in heaven.” The enemies of Cowper have charged him with egotism. For our own parts we must confess those passages please us most to which this censure is intended to apply. There is no subject so delightful as that which consists in a description of the minute feelings and common habits of extraordinary genius. We are anxious to obtain the most accurate accounts of those whom we venerate and admire: we seize with avidity on the most tedious biographies. Even Boswell is eagerly listened to when Johnson is the theme: and, in general, we regard every relic and vestige they have left behind as sacred. Authors charm us most when they speak most of that which concerns ourselves. What would the world have given had Shakspeare, along with the infinite variety of character which he has left us, bequeathed to us also a more solid memorial of what he was in common life, and made us acquainted with his ordinary habits, and those infirmities and defects which alone seem to have made him human? Should we have complained that his egotism was disgusting? By the way, we may observe that the sonnets of this unrivalled bard are not only full of indications of his surpassing genius, but contain many hints towards the history of his life, and the detail of his personal qualities. And we repeat that if the works of Cowper are more full of touches which display the man, while they exhibit the poet; they are on that account the more welcome. Their principal feature indeed is sadness; but the melancholy is pleasing rather than oppressive, and has in its plaintiveness a charm that takes away its sting.' Unlike the pompous distress of Young, which accuses heaven in lofty and sonorous heroics; it speaks in simple tones of heart-felt sorrow. Its force is broken too by a thousand natural fantasies. He smiles through his tears, and dallies with affliction as if he were in love with it. And then his intervals of comfort are so welcome to us-the snugness of his fire-side so charmingly relieves the darker parts of his story, as to give a peculiar zest and spirit to domestic enjoyment. These indeed constituted the chief pleasure which amidst his distress he was capable of enjoying; and therefore it is no wonder that he felt them more and described them better than those have done whose habitual course they form, and who are accustomed to look abroad for joyous emotions. The humour of Cowper is also singularly pleasing. His drolIery has no tinge of coarseness, nor his satire of spleen. He is amiable in the midst of his jests, and kindly even in his re |