not reciprocally dependent on each other, and which embrace an endless variety of distinct topicks; continued, I suppose, from time to time, as the author felt himself inclined to write, and as his ideas happened to flow upon him. There is not, therefore, any discoverable relation between the several books; nor does the title of the The Sofa, The Time-Piece, and The Garden, give us any reason to expect a close connexion, between the different subjects, or parts of the poem. Virtue and religion, the pursuit of happiness, and the prospects of nature, with an endless diversity of minor points, form in general the themes of his discourse. And a critick, prone to severity of judgment, and tenacious of exact reason, might justly remark, that the titles are arbitary, and the subjects capricious, that the harmony of classification is violated by abrupt digression, and the order of nature departed from, by the excursive range of a boundless fancy. But the critick familiar with the genius of Cowper, welcomes the sight of symptoms that denote excellence, by favouring a full display of bis powers, and being congenial to the desultory habits of his mind, and the native rusticity of his imagination.

In a work like that of the Task, whose uniformity of excellence is generally acknowledged, the merit and splendour of one book, seldom surpasses, or falls short of another, in any essential degree. I shall, therefore, restrict my remarks to the Sofa, without committing the injustice of a partial judgment, on the beauties of Cowper; for this book is universally allowed to possess charms always equal, if not superiour to the rest. But the variation of perfection and defect, is so trivial throughout them all, that a criticism on one, may without violence be extended to the others, without impairing the reputation of the poet.

The character of the Task is of a mixed nature, being partly serious, and partly ludicrous; a species of composition not I beJieve often attempted, but in exact conformity to the variable mind of the susceptible poet; at one moment basking in the beams of hilarity, and at another absorbed in sober reflection, or depressed to morbid melancholy. To judge of its perfection, therefore, we must divide its separate beauties into their appropriate classes.

It might in vain be conjectured, what thoughts or reflections, a subject like that of the Sofa could possibly start in the mind; and if this could in any manner be conceived, it might still be rea

sonably doubted, whether they were worthy of recording, for the eye of the world. But Cowper, by judiciously pitching upon a burlesque strain, overcomes every seeming obstacle; and while he amuses the fancy, by the mock majesty of his style, he destroys the vulgar association, and prevents us from affixing contempt, to so familiar an object of domestick furniture. To make it a subject for merriment, was the only way to render it agreeable. Thus he begins with the old Homerick proem of stately march:

"I SING the SOFA. I who lately sang
Truth, Hope, and Charity,--" &c.

Here we have the utmost disparity imaginable between the style and the subject; the opening of an heroick poem to celebrate The Sofa! Nor does he descend from this lofty strain as he proceeds; but affords us all the delight of humorous travestie. Thus the ridiculous majesty of the following lines is very remarkable:

"Time was, when clothing sumptuous or for use,
Save their own painted skins, our sires had none.
As yet black breeches were not; satin smooth;
Or velvet soft, or plush with shaggy pile:-
Those barbarous ages past, succeeded next
The birth day of invention; weak at first,
Dull in design, and clumsy to perform.
Joint-stools were then created; on three legs
Upborne they stood. Three legs upholding firm
A massy slab in fashion square or round."

Having traced, in this laughable pomp of diction and solemnity of style, the various stages of improvement in artificial seats, till pernicious refinement creeps upon us, he continues:

"Thus first necessity nvented stools,
Convenience next suggested elbow chairs,
And luxury th' accomplish'd SOFA last."

But after a few more observations upon the soothing repose which it affords to the gouty limb, and that the fatigues of youth do not require such means to repair his wasted spirits, he relinquishes the Sofa as a theme; and with it, parts with his former

strain of humorous burlesque. The author here begins his rambles through

"Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote;"

And assuming a serious air, he indulges his usual habits of digression, by expatiating on the salubrious effects of rural sights and rural sounds, that

"Exhilarate the spirit, and restore

The tone of languid nature."

The burlesque part of the Task cannot be refused the praise that success always merits, and which in this instance it extorts from the most reluctant mind. In every line we recognise with pleasure, the superiour humour of the author of John Gilpin. So vast is the disparity between the subject, and the manner in which it is treated, that gravity, surrounded with all her ensigns of sullenness, feels, and gives way to an irresistible tendency to merriment. The contrariety of the diction to the meanness of the ideas, is exact, and ridiculous in the extreme; and the reader feels all the pleasure, which unexpected humour, and a strange combination of opposite thoughts, produces in the mind. Thus the following passage from Paradise Lost, in Eve's reply to Adam, is inimitably parodied. I shall cite both, for the purpose of showing more distinctly, the humorous contrast of Cowper's picture. Milton says:

"With thee conversing I forget all time;

All seasons, and their change, all please alike.
Sweet is the breath of Morn, her rising sweet,
With charm of earliest birds: pleasant the sun,
When first on this delightful land he spreads
His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower,
Glistering with dew;-
-&c.

But neither breath of Morn, when she ascends
With charm of earliest birds; nor rising sun
On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower,
Glistering with dew; nor fragrance after showers;
Nor grateful Evening mild: nor silent Night,
With this her solemn bird, nor walk by moon,
Or glittering star-light, without thee is sweet."

Thus Cowper of the Sofa:

"The nurse sleeps sweetly, hir'd to watch the sick,
Whom snoring she disturbs. As sweetly he

Who quits the coach-box at the midnight hour
To sleep within the carriage more secure,
His legs depending at the open door.
Sweet sleep enjoys the curate in his desk,
The tedious rector drawling o'er his head;
And sweet the clerk below. But neither sleep
Of lazy nurse, who snores the sick man dead,
Nor his who quits the box at midnight hour
To slumber in the carriage more secure,
Nor sleep enjoy'd by curate in his desk,

Nor yet the dozings of the clerk, are sweet,
Compar'd with the repose the SOFA yields."

I know not, whether it is to the injury or excellence of the Task, that this description of entertaining travestie is principally confined to the First Book. Perhaps considering the want of novelty, which attends it, it is to the advantage of the work, that Cowper has been sparing of burlesque; and devoting the remainder of his poem, to serious narrative, elegant description, and instruction. The remarks of Dr. Johnson on this subject, in his Criticism on Philips' "Splendid Shilling," are appropriate and conclusive. Much of this species of writing certainly palls upon the mind; and by being long continued, till it becomes familiar, it gradually loses that zest of pleasure, which it originally imparted.

"The Splendid Shilling,' says Dr. Johnson, has the uncommon merit of an original design, unless it may be thought precluded by the ancient Centos. To degrade the sounding words and stately construction of Milton by an application to the lowest and most trivial things, gratifies the mind with a momentary triumph over that grandeur which hitherto held its captives in admiration; the words and things are presented with a new appearance, and novelty is always grateful where it gives no pain."

"But the merit of such performances begins and ends with the first author. He that should again adapt Milton's phrase to the gross incidents of common life, and even adapt it with more art, which would not be difficult, must yet expect but a small part of the praise which Philips has obtained; he can only hope to be considered as the repeater of a jest."

Whether this severity of criticism can justly be applied to Cowper in its full extent, may however be doubted. It must be ad

mitted, that he cannot claim the praise of originality, or yield all the delight of novelty. But he possesses the highest merit, which the repeater of a joke can have; of knowing when to quit a subject, before made familiar, ere it became irksome, and of being able to give it a freshness of colouring, and novelty of position, previously unknown, and not attempted by the inventor. Cowper produced a distinct, individual poem, every way original; Philips gave birth to a new species of poetry, of which he set an example, which others were bound to follow, only in the general outlines. If Cowper's work so far varies, as to have no trace of imitation to the original, and the perusal of his work impresses us with admiration, and inspires us with pleasure, he is entitled to the praise of those powers, that beget innocent amusement, and rational hilarity. Such is in truth the effect of his work, and such is his increase of merit and reputation. Yet with all my esteem for his genius, and delight of his humour, I could not wish to have an additional line of burlesque inserted in the Task.

In the serious and narrative parts of this poem, we are conducted through a variety of scenes, often described with much vigour of thought, exuberance of fancy, and floridness of diction; that always display the power of the poet, and amuse the imagination of the reader. It is fraught with a train of pleasing reflections, upon the economy of nature, and the variety of life; and he often recurs to the bewitching picture, presented in fragrant fields, and pastoral bliss; which none but poets can so vividly fancy:

"The spleen is seldom felt where Flora reigns;
The lowering eye, the petulence, the frown,-&c.
These Flora banishes, and gives the fair

Sweet smiles, and bloom less transient than her own."

Thus he occasionally mingles the beauties of nature, with mo ral, political, and religious reflections, all tending to enforce important precepts of virtue, and estimable lessons of wisdom. Yet it must be observed of the Task, and observed with pain and reluctance, that its similitude to his poems in rhyme, sentiment, argument, and reflections, takes away much of its beauty. They are poems to the same tune, on a different instrument; that is, the only essential distinction between them is, that one is composed in blank verse, and the other in rhyme.

(To be continued.)

S.