And view with tears the' expected harvest lost, With him, perhaps with her, (for men have known A soul, an image of himself, and therefore true. "You say you felt my verses," Cowper says in reply to Mr. Unwin's remarks upon them. "I assure you that in this you followed my example, for I felt them first. A man's lordship is nothing to me any further than in connexion with qualities that entitle him to my respect. If he thinks himself privi leged by it, and treats me with neglect, I am his humble servant, and shall never be at a loss to render him an equivalent. I am, however, most angry with the manager. He has published a book since he received mine, and has not vouchsafed to send it me; a requital which good manners, not to say the remembrance of former friendship, ought to have suggested. I will not however belie my knowledge of mankind so much as to seem surprised at treatment which I had abundant reason to expect. To these men with whom I was once intimate, and for many years, I am no longer necessary, no longer convenient, or in any respect an object. They think of me as of the man in the moon; and whether I have a lantern, a dog, and a faggot, or whether I have neither of those desirable accommodations, is to them a matter of perfect indifference. Upon that point we are agreed, our indifference is mutual: and were I to publish again, which is not impossible, I should give them a proof of it25." As a giver of good counsel, Cowper said he wished to please all; but as an author he flattered himself that he was perfectly indifferent to the judgement of all, except the few who were really judicious. He had pleased those persons whom he was most desirous of pleasing; Mrs. Unwin, who saw the poems in their progress; Mr. Newton, by whom they were criticised on the way to the press; and Mr. Unwin, with whom he corresponded as with a friend and brother. Nothing, since the publication of the volume, he said, had given him so much pleasure as his favourable opinion. "The circumstance, however, in your letter, which pleased me most, was, that you wrote in high spirits, and though you said much, suppressed more, lest you should hurt my delicacy. My delicacy is obliged to you; but you observe it is not so squeamish but that after it has feasted upon praise expressed, it can find a comfortable dessert in the contemplation of praise implied. I now feel as if I should be glad to begin another volume; but from the will to the power is a step too wide for me to take at present; and the season of the year brings with it so many avocations into the garden, where I am my own factotum, that I have little or no leisure for the quill26." An unfavourable account of his book, in the Critical Review, somewhat dejected him, though he considered that those reviewers could not read, 25 Nov. 24, 1783. 22 March 18, 1782. without prejudice, a volume replete with opinions and doctrines contrary to their own. But without prejudice on the score of opinions, and without individual ill will, or the envious disposition which not unfrequently produces the same effect, a dull critic or a pert one is generally ready enough to condemn what he wants heart to feel, or understanding to appreciate. This reviewal of Cowper's first volume, is one of those defunct criticisms which deserve to be disinterred and gibbeted for the sake of example. "These poems are written, as we learn from the title-page, by Mr. Cowper, of the Inner Temple, who seems to be a man of a sober and religious turn of mind, with a benevolent heart, and a serious wish to inculcate the precepts of morality; he is not, however, possessed of any superior abilities, or power of genius, requisite to so arduous an undertaking; his verses are in general weak and languid, and have neither novelty, spirit, or animation to recommend them; that mediocrity, so severely condemned by Horace, Non Dii non homines, &c. pervades the whole; and whilst the author avoids every thing that is ridiculous or contemptible, he, at the same time, never rises to any thing that we can commend or admire. He says what is incontrovertible, and what has already been said over and over, with much gravity, but says nothing new, sprightly, or entertaining; travelling on a plain, level, flat road, with great composure, almost through the whole long and tedious volume, which is little better than a dull sermon, in very indifferent verse, on Truth, the Progress of Error, Charity, and some other grave subjects. If this author had followed the advice given by Caraccioli, and which he has chosen for one of the mottoes prefixed to these poems, he would have clothed his indisputable truths in some becoming disguise, and rendered his work much more agreeable. In its present shape we cannot compliment him on its shape or beauty; for, as this bard himself sweetly sings, The clear harangue, and cold as it is clear, 27 Critical Review, April, 1782. The reviewer then quotes fifty lines from Hope, and observes upon them, "All this is very true; but there needs no ghost, nor author, nor poet to tell us what we knew before, unless he could tell it us in a new and better manner." Some of his expressions are noticed as being "coarse, vulgar, and unpoetical;" he is said not "He that misses his end," says Dr. Johnson," will never be as much pleased as he that attains it, even when he can impute no part of his failure to himself." Cowper, however, was more than compensated for this transient mortification, when one of his friends, who had sent the book to Dr. Franklin (then in France), transmitted to him the letter which he had received in return 28. "The relish," said Franklin, "for reading of poetry had long since left me; but there is something here so new in the manner, so easy and yet so correct in the language, so clear in the expression, yet concise, and so just in the sentiment, that I have read the whole with great pleasure, and some of the pieces more than once.' We may now," said Cowper, "treat the critics as the Archbishop of Toledo treated Gil Blas, when he found fault with one of his sermons. His grace gave him a kick, and said, 'Begone for a jackanapes! and furnish yourself with a better taste, if you know where to find it.'" In that vein of natural pleasantry which characterises his letters, and especially those to Mr. Unwin, he says to that friend, "Before I had published, I said to myself—you and I, Mr. Cowper, will not concern ourselves much about what the critics may say of our book! But having once sent my wits for a venture, I soon became anxious about the issue, and found that I could not be satisfied with a warm place in my own good graces, unless my friends were pleased with me as much as I pleased myself. Meeting with their approbation, I began to feel the workings of ambition. It is well, said I, that my friends are pleased, but friends are sometimes partial, and mine, I have reason to think, are not altogether free from bias. Methinks I should like to hear a stranger or two speak well of me. I was presently gratified by the approbation of the London Magazine, and the Gentleman's, particularly by that of the former, and by the plaudit of Dr. Franklin. By the way, magazines are publications we have but little respect for, till we ourselves are chronicled in them, and then they assume an importance in our esteem which before we could not allow to have succeeded in his "attempt to be lively, facetious, and satirical, any more than in the serious and pathetic ;" and the sapient critic concludes by saying, that," after dragging through Mr. Cowper's long moral lectures, his lighter pieces, such as the Lily and the Rose, and the Nightingale and the Glow-worm, afford some relief, as best adapted to his genius." 28 May 27. them. But the Monthly Review, the most formidable of all my judges, is still behind. What will that critical Rhadamanthus say, when my shivering genius shall appear before him? Still he keeps me in hot water, and I must wait another month for his award. Alas! when I wish for a favourable sentence from that quarter (to confess a weakness that I should not confess to all), I feel myself not a little influenced by a tender regard to my reputation here, even among my neighbours at Olney. Here are watchmakers, who themselves are wits, and who at present, perhaps, think me one. Here is a carpenter and a baker, and not to mention others, here is your idol Mr. Teedon, whose smile is fame. All these read the Monthly Review, and all these will set me down for a dunce if those terrible critics should show them the example. But, Oh! whereever else I am accounted dull, dear Mr. Griffiths, let me pass for a genius at Olney 29 !” Johnson wished Mr. Unwin to review his friend's book in this journal which, by its undisputed authority, was to mark him for honour or dishonour at Olney; and not at Olney alone, but among all that class of readers who received their opinions upon current literature, once a month, ready made. Cowper seconded the solicitation. "Doubt not," said he, "your abilities for the task which Johnson would recommend to you. The reviewers are such fiery Socinians, that they have less charity for a man of my avowed principles, than a Portugueze for a Jew. They may possibly find here and there somewhat to commend, but will undoubtedly reprobate the doctrines, pronounce me a methodist, and, by so doing, probably check the sale of the volume, if not suppress it. Wherein consists your difficulty? Your private judgement once made public, and the world made acquainted with what you think and what you feel while you read me by the fireside, the business is done; I am reviewed, and my book forwarded in its progress by a judicious recommendation. In return, write a book, and I will be your reviewer; thus we may hold up each other in public admiration, and turn our friendship to good account. But, seriously, I think you perfectly qualified for the undertaking ; and if you have no other objection to it than what arises from self-distrust, am persuaded you need only make the experiment to confirm yourself." 30 April 1, 1782. 29 June 12. |