to find art so perfect in contrivance yet so unobtrusive in effect.

The language and versification of the Task are happily adapted to the nature of the subjects. They are sustained, yet varied; simple and even familiar, but throughout sufficiently dignified; and on proper occasions sublime. In these respects, Cowper's manner was not less a novelty in the national literature than his general conceptions. From the period of the Restoration, no poet had exhibited a purity of style so genuine ; and few successors have approached his idiomatic turn-his lofty, almost stern, rejection of all innovations on the masculine tone of the language. If from his great work any passage be selected, it will be found to contain a larger proportion of Saxon primitives than any equal portion of verse since the days of Paradise Lost. It is this chiefly which renders the writings of Cowper so remarkable for the union of brevity with high poetical expression. These, the true originals. of the language, not only constitute its strength, but they represent also its sweetest associations, comprise its terms of tenderest import, and are most nobly descriptive of the characteristics of nature; they are besides less encumbered with the abstractions of science, or contaminated by peculiar applications, than Latin and French derivatives. By the exquisite selection of the words which he thus employs, Cowper has preserved the antique simplicity, and the sweet artlessness of an early dialect, amid the refinements of an advanced age. But it is not merely his choice that is admirable; his combinations have a certain delightful charm, more readily felt than explained, by which expressions, apparently the least striking, acquire an effect of the truest eloquence. In no subject of taste, however, do the extremes of beauty and defect, of dignity and vulgarity, more readily coincide than in poetical language. From not adverting to this, Cowper has overstepped the limits of his own excellent system. In his anxiety to express every sentiment simply, naturally, and in pure English words in common use, he has sometimes adopted vulgar, quaint, and obsolete expressions, altogether unworthy of his numbers. Occasionally some of his most beautiful passages are disfigured by a colloquial phrase; and in the very height of our admiration, in our deepest intensity of feeling, a single word often mars the full effect, and recals our sympathy by a painful revulsion of

sentiment.

Cowper possessed from nature an ear finely attuned to the melody of language. The blank verse of the Task is accordHe ingly harmonious, but it is not uniformly harmonious. entertained a not uncommon idea, that an occasional unmusical cadence, or negligent arrangement, in a passage was desirable, in order to break the monotony. The theory is a false one. Imperfection can never be desirable, least of all in poetry, whose variety ought to be the alternations of varied excellence. He conceived also that the greatness of his themes, in some instances, rejected the external ornaments of exquisitely attuned language, while in others, contempt of the objects of his satire has induced a disregard of expression. In the Task, however, there still remains a magnificent system of versification, embracing all that is closest, most vigorous, and descriptive in the strength, and much of what is most harmonious in the melody of the English tongue. In the structure of his verse, Cowper has followed no master he is an inventor here also. If he be less uniformly majestic than the Miltonic school, he has escaped the monotony of Thomson and the abruptness of Young. The pauses of his lines, if not disposed with much nice art-a quality foreign alike to the subjects and to his own genius-are yet sufficiently varied for the effects which he aimed at producing. Generally speaking, the reader will perceive that the rest falls upon the third foot, imparting lightness and familiarity of flow; and on the seventh, which gives dignity to the march of the verse.

All this, however, is but the dead letter; the living spirit of Cowper's poetry dwells in the inspiration of religion. To this it owes the charm by which it attracts the serious mind; and from this, like a source which, though unperceived in itself, is traced by its verdure, and its flowers, and its freshness, spring up also those beauties which delight the man of mere refinement and literary taste. Of all men of genius, Cowper perhaps united the largest share of the sentiment of personal holiness with his studies. His poetry was a religious exercise; thence, as perfume from a concealed bank of sweets, a purity breathes over his page, calming and refreshing the mind, while it delights the sense. Religion was to him the business of his poetical existence; and he, of all our writers, goes nearest to render it the great object for which his readers wish to live,

THE TASK.

BOOK I.

THE SOFA.

ARGUMENT OF THE FIRST BOOK.

Historical deduction of seats, from the stool to the sofa. - A Schoolboy's ramble. A walk in the country. The scene described. -Rural sounds as well as sights delightful. Another walk. - Mistake concerning the charms of solitude corrected. - Colonnades commended. Alcove, and the view from it. The wilderness. The grove. The thresher. The necessity and the benefits of exercise. - The works of nature superior to, and in some instances inimitable by, art. The wearisomeness of what is commonly called a life of pleasure. - Change of scene sometimes expedient. — A common described, and the character of crazy Kate introduced.Gipsies. The blessings of a civilized life. — The state most favourable to virtue.The South Sea islanders compassionated, but chiefly Omai. - His present state of mind supposed. - Civilized life friendly to virtue, but not great cities. Great cities, and London in particular, allowed their due praises, but censured.-Fete champetre. -The book concludes with a reflection on the fatal effects of dissipation and effeminacy upon our public

measures.

I SING the SOFA. I, who lately sang

Truth, Hope, and Charity, and touch'd with awe
The solemn chords, and with a trembling hand,
Escaped with pain from that adventurous flight,
Now seek repose upon an humbler theme;

The theme though humble, yet august and proud
Th' occasion for the fair commands the

song.

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:
The hardy chief upon the rugged rock
Wash'd by the sea, or on the gravelly bank
Thrown up by wintry torrents roaring loud,
Fearless of wrong, reposed his wearied strength.

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.
On such a stool immortal Alfred sat,

And sway'd the sceptre of his infant realms;
And such in ancient halls and mansions drear
May still be seen, but perforated sore,
And drill'd in holes, the solid oak is found,
By worms voracious eating through and through.
At length a generation more refined

Improved the simple plan; made three legs four,
Gave them a twisted form vermicular,

And o'er the seat, with plenteous wadding stuff'd,
Induced a splendid cover, green and blue,
Yellow and red, of tapestry richly wrought
And woven close, or needlework sublime.
There might ye see the piony spread wide,
The full-blown rose, the shepherd and his lass,
Lapdog and lambkin with black staring eyes,
And parrots with twin cherries in their beak.

Now came the cane from India, smooth and bright
With nature's varnish, sever'd into stripes,
That interlaced each other, these supplied
Oftexture firm a lattice work, that braced
The new machine, and it became a chair.
But restless was the chair; the back erect
Distress'd the weary loins, that felt no ease;
The slippery seat betray'd the sliding part,
That press'd it, and the feet hung dangling down,
Anxious in vain to find the distant floor.1
These for the rich; the rest, whom fate had placed
In modest mediocrity, content

With base materials, sat on well-tann'd hides.

Obdurate and unyielding, glassy smooth,
With here and there a tuft of crimson yarn,
Or scarlet crewel, in the cushion fix'd,

If cushion might be call'd, what harder seem'd

Than the firm oak, of which the frame was form❜d.

No want of timber then was felt or fear'd
In Albion's happy isle. The lumber stood
Pond'rous and fix'd by its own massy weight.
But elbows still were wanting; these, some say,
An alderman of Cripplegate contrived;
And some ascribe th' invention to a priest,
Burly, and big, and studious of his ease.
But rude at first, and not with easy slope
Receding wide, they press'd against the ribs,
And bruised the side; and, elevated high,
Taught the raised shoulders to invade the ears.
Long time elapsed or e'er our rugged sires
Complain'd, though incommodiously pent in,
And ill at ease behind. The ladies first
'Gan murmur, as became the softer sex.
Ingenious fancy, never better pleased
Than when employ'd t' accommodate the fair,
Heard the sweet moan with pity, and devised
The soft settee; one elbow at each end,
And in the midst an elbow, it received,
United yet divided, twain at once.

So sit two kings of Brentford on one throne;"
And so two citizens, who take the air,

Close pack'd, and smiling in a chaise and one.
But relaxation of the languid frame,
By soft recumbency of outstretch'd limbs,
Was bliss reserved for happier days. So slow
The growth of what is excellent; so hard
T'attain perfection in this nether world.
Thus first necessity invented stools,
Convenience next suggested elbow chairs,
And luxury the accomplish'd SOFA last.

The nurse sleeps sweetly, hired 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,