WILLIAM COWPER. WILLIAM COWPER was born November 15, 1731, in the ancient town of Berkhampstead, Herts, of which his father was rector; but the lover of his poetry will seek in vain for the haunts of his childhood. The parsonagehouse has been pulled down, his favourite walnut-tree removed, and the umbrageous elms converted into repairing materials*. His family is said to have been distinguished so early as the reign of Edward the Fourth; and among his more immediate ancestors he numbered a judge of the Common Pleas, and a lord chancellor of England; but his own boast was not that he derived his birth From loins enthroned, and rulers of the earth; he rejoiced rather in being The son of parents passed into the skies. His mother was a lineal descendant of the poet Donne, to whom Cowper was fond of recording his relationship. "What you say of your determined resolution," he wrote to Mr. Johnson, "to take up the cross, and despise the shame, gives us all real pleasure. In our pedigree is found one, at least, who did it before you." His early education was received in his native place, where The gard❜ner Robin, day by day, Drew him to school along the public way. * See an indignant remonstrance on this subject in the Gentleman's Magazine for August, 1834, p. 150. But his childish happiness was soon overcast by the loss of his mother, who died when he was six years old. How he bewailed her is known to every reader of his poetry: I heard the bell toll: on thy burial day, The Hayley says, "The little Cowper was sent to his first school in the year of his mother's death;" and the words of the poet himself are, "At six years old I was taken from the nursery, and from the immediate care of a most affectionate mother, and sent to a considerable town in Bedfordshire." It cannot be denied that he was abruptly removed from the scenes of his infant attachments. school was conducted by Dr. Pitman, whose care and humanity did not protect Cowper from the tyranny of one of his companions, "a lad about fifteen years of age," who singled him out "as a proper object upon whom he might let loose the cruelty of his temper;" and so vividly had the savage treatment of this boy impressed his figure on the young sufferer, that he says he was afraid to lift his eyes upon him higher than his knees, and that he knew him from his shoe-buckles better than any other part of his dress. The expulsion of this monster from the school was a poor reparation for the miseries he had inflicted. Cowper relates an anecdote connected with these persecutions, which demands particular attention, as exemplifying the peculiar tone of his religious feelings even in childhood:-" One day, as I was sitting alone on a bench in the school, melancholy, and almost ready to weep at the recollection of what I had already suffered, and expecting at the same time, my tormentor every moment, these words of the Psalmist came into my mind,-I will not be afraid of what man can do unto me. I applied this to my own case with a degree of trust and confidence in God that would have been no disgrace to a much more experienced Christian. Instantly I perceived in myself a briskness of spirit, and a cheerfulness which I had never before experienced, and took several paces up and down the room with joyful alacrity." After continuing at Market Street two years, the alarming appearance of specks on both his eyes induced his father to place him under the care of an eminent oculist, in whose house he resided two years. His name has not been ascertained, and the matter is not of sufficient importance to require any further investigation. It is enough to know that the period he passed with him" was to no good purpose." In the beginning of his eleventh year he was entered a scholar of Westminster School. Vincent Bourne, a most accomplished writer of Latin verses, was then an usher in that famous institution. His indolence, however, equalled his genius, and he was so inattentive to the exercises submitted to his correction, that, as Cowper pleasantly remarked, he seemed determined to be the last poet of the Westminster line. Of this eccentric scholar Cowper always spoke in terms of warm affection; and he has left an interesting character of him in a letter to the Rev. William Unwin:-"I love the memory of Vinny Bourne. I think him a better Latin poet than Tibullus, Propertius, Ausonius, or any of the writers in his way, except Ovid, and not at all inferior to him. I love him, too, with a love of partiality, because he was usher of the fifth form at Westminster when I passed through it. He was so good-natured and so indolent, that I lost more than I got by him; for he made me as idle as himself. He was such a sloven as if he had trusted to his genius as a cloak for everything that could disgust you in his person; and indeed in his writings he has made amends for all. His humour is entirely original; he can speak of a magpie, or a cat, in terms so exquisitely appropriated to the character he draws, that one would suppose him ani mated by the spirit of the creature he describes; and with all his drollery there is a mixture of rational, and even religious reflection, at times; and always an air of pleasantry, good nature, and humanity, that makes him, in my mind, one of the most amiable writers in the world. It is not common to meet with an author who can make you smile, and yet at nobody's expense; who is always entertaining, yet always harmless; and who, though always elegant, and classical to a degree not always found in the classics themselves, charms more by the simplicity and playfulness of his ideas, than by the neatness and purity of his verse. Yet such was poor Vinny." The head master was Dr. Nichols, whom Mr. Taylor* has pronounced an ingenious and learned man, but a negligent tutor, and "one that encouraged his pupils in habits of indolence not a little injurious to their future welfare." This censure must have been intended for Vincent Bourne. All we know of Dr. Nichols impresses us with a very high opinion of his wisdom and discretion. Cumberland, the dramatist, relates an anecdote of him pleasingly illustrative of his character:-" Dr. Nichols had the art of making his scholars gentlemen. An instance occurs to me of a certain boy, in the fifth, who was summoned before the seniors of the seventh, and convicted of an offence which in the high spirit of the * * * * school argued an abasement of principle and honour. Dr. Nichols having stated the case, demanded their opinion of the crime, and what punishment they conceived it to deserve. Their answer was unanimously, ' The severest that could be inflicted. I can inflict none more severe than you have given him,' said the master, and dismissed him without any other chastisement." Traits of similar kindness and penetration might be adduced. At Westminster he was happier than at Market Street. Famous for football and cricket, he could not fail of being popular. Among his contemporaries may be mentioned Colman, Thornton, and Lloyd. He was familiar with Churchill, the author of the Rosciad, of whose satirical powers he always expressed great admiration, and boarded in the same house with Richard Cumberland. With Thurlow, afterwards Lord Chancellor, both at Westminster and in the Temple, he maintained a close intimacy; and of Bagot, who subsequently became bishop of Norwich, he has spoken very favourably in his Review of Public Schools. To these the names of Lord Dartmouth and Warren Hastings + may be added. What, it has been asked, can be more striking than the desti * Even after his retirement to Olney, he preserved the friendship and acquaintance of Lord Dartmouth. "I wrote to Lord Dartmouth to apprise him of my intended present, and have received a most affectionate and obliging answer. "-Feb. 2, 1782. The present was his first volume. + For Hastings we know that he had "a particular regard," and the following verses were transmitted to a newspaper without his name, at a period when few voices were heard in defence of his school-fellow : Hastings! I knew thee young, and of a mind |