NOTE 2.-Page 175, line 22.

So sit two kings of Brentford on one throne.

The two chief magistrates of this ancient and once celebrated burgh, now little better than a mean suburb of London, were originally elected from the two principal crafts, millers and tanners, and still assume the titles of royalty, a distinction, it is said, conferred by one of the Saxon monarchs.

NOTE 3.- Page 176, line 5.

Compared with the repose the SOFA yields.

Here, properly speaking, closes the poem as it relates to the subject first proposed by Cowper's fair friend. Henceforward, likewise, the mock heroic versification and light tone of sentiment with which he commenced, evidently in imitation of Philips, give place to an original measure and sustained thought. In all the poet becomes himself, and is consequently at once more dignified, more impressive, and more useful, as he advances in his varying theme. Regarded in itself, the introduction is exceedingly happy as a composition; considered as a prelude to strains of such nobleness and compass, it is doubtless inadequate and unsatisfactory. We cannot, however, agree with those critics who have visited with severity of censure this inequality of the proem, and the future total omission of the subject in the body of the work. That these are great blemishes can be maintained only on a too limited view of Cowper's circumstances when he undertook the poem, or of the plan subsequently adopted. When he first intended a "trifle," it was introduced as one with great propriety. Afterwards, he assumed the subject as men take a seat, not to descant upon so common an invention as a Sofa, but to use it as an appliance; accordingly, like one who reposes in order to gather strength, he dwells on the proposed theme for an instant, then, giving fancy wing, strikes boldly into diversity of topic,—now in varied converse with his reader-now in heart-searching meditation with himself. From a subject which promised so little, he has thus legitimately elicited countless thoughts, delightful, solemn, sublime; admirably illustrating the precept of his favourite the "Sabine bard,"

Ex fumo dare lucem!

NOTE 4.-Page 177, last line.

Groves, heaths, and smoking villages remote.

In the following remarks on this beautiful passage by the author of the Pleasures of Hope, there wants only precision to render them as critically just as they are elegantly expressed :-" The flat country where Cowper resided certainly exhibited none of those wilder graces of nature which he had sufficient genius to have delineated; and yet there are, perhaps, few romantic descriptions of rocks, precipices, and torrents, which we should prefer to the calm English character and familiar repose of this landscape. It is in the finest manner of Cowper, and unites all his accustomed fidelity and distinctness, with a softness and delicacy which are not always to be found in his specimens of the picturesque. The whole scene is so defined, that one longs to see it transferred to painting." The whole, too, is from Nature. Cowper's usual walk, as appears in the arrangement of his subjects, extended westwards from the village of Olney, by a gradual ascent through the fields to the grounds of

Weston House. Pursuing this route, the visiter, after crossing three fields, attains the "eminence" whence the poet and his companion surveyed so often the prospect here described. In this position, due south, and almost beneath him, the spectator overlooks "Ouse slow winding," the "level plains," the "spacious meads," with their various garniture, till the distance "recedes into the clouds." This is all pleasing English landscape, though to an eye that is but a little conversant with Nature, it is tame, and the formal "cuts, 66 or dykes," thrown up as protection against the floods of winter, though covered with richest verdure, intersect the expanse too artificially. Every disagreeable feeling, however, vanishes when we think that our gaze now reposes upon scenes which filled the eye and the soul of Cowper with the tear of delight—with the grateful consciousness, that

His Father made them all.

and

Eastward the " square tower" marks Clifton Church, where Lady Austen first resided with her sister. In this direction, the horizon is skirted by Clifton wood, till due east rises "the tall spire" of Olney Church, where Newton once officiated; continuing this panoramic survey, towards the south-east is seen the village of Emberton, distant about three miles; and beyond, on the horizon, are Bowbrick Hill, crowned by its church, and Steventon, in Bedfordshire," the smoking villages remote." On the north, and close at hand, the prospect is intercepted by a hedge-row with trees. Between the west and south extend the scenes described in the subsequent portion of this book, which lie chiefly in the grounds of Weston. To visit these we must follow the poet. Descending into a hollow, we cross the weedy ditch," whence the labourer still continues to draw unwholesome water, and reascend, on the opposite side," the green hill top," to "the peasant's nest." This is merely a better sort of farm cottage, now covered with red tiles instead of "thatch," stripped of its verdant screen, and consequently denuded of all save its poetic charms. The descent from this leads directly into the pleasure grounds of Weston manor, first through a plantation of yews, pines, and firs, conducting to the "colonnade," a fine avenue of chestnuts, which terminates upon the "Rustic bridge," the vignette to the present volume. Rising again, as so graphically described, through "moss" and "wild thyme," the path leads to the Alcove, a view seat of six sides, three of which are open, and three enclosed. The present, however, is not Cowper's seat, which was taken down and rebuilt about twenty years ago, in consequence of a workman, the son of the first builder, having been killed on the spot by a fall, while painting the roof. From the 6 proud alcove," and its speculative height," the eye roves over a similar, but much more extensive prospect. Cowper, with proper tact, turns here from the objects as seen on the "eminence," to describe "a woodland scene, by which he has not only varied his delineations, but has left, in these two, contrasted pictures of open and close landscape not to be surpassed in the descriptive poetry of any nation. The remainder of the walk passes the sharp and steep declivity"" the little Naid" the avenue "where sportive light shoots through the boughs," -all of which still remain nearly as when Cowper drew from them these wonderful sketches-sketches which, viewed beside their originals, excite our admiration the more, that objects so ordinary can, by the spell of genius, be elevated into sources of deep and everlasting interest.

NOTE 5.-Page 187, line 16.

Kate is crazed!

Crazy Kate, as we learn from the poet's Private Correspondence, was a portrait from life. Like all the sketches which Cowper draws, there is, besides, so much of general nature-the true beau ideal, whether of poetry or painting-both in this, and in the various delineations of character in the Task, that every reader applies them to reminiscences of his own experience. Hence their popularity, on the first appearance of the work, was so great, that they were engraven, and sold very extensively. The poet's friends in the metropolis took care to supply him with these repetitions of his own thoughts as acceptable presents, and the accidental resemblances of these imaginary portraits to individuals in his neighbourhood, as we learn, was sometimes striking. The introduction of Cowper's figures is highly judicious. The reader must have remarked, that the manner of transition in the Task resembles the equability which nature observes in her changes. The poem bears thus a more exquisite analogy with the objects which it describes. The evenness of its tenor in this respect, reminds us of being carried along the smooth current of a stream that waters a country of placid sweetness. sometimes of romantic beauty—and more rarely of sublimity. The scene shifts before us so gradually-the motion is so uniform, that we glide onwards, sensible of proceeding only by observing, not a decided character of novelty, keeping fancy on the stretch, but by the continuous succession of objects almost, yet pleasingly, anticipated in their familiar beauty. Dell and glade, and slope" with nibbling sheep; " or level pastures, and cultivated fields, and busy haunts of industry-cities remote, and antique towers amid ancestral trees; or more modern life succeeds the dotted lawn-the trim villa, gleaming through its shrubs and greens-the rural church, with sound of evening bells; again the solitude of nature-the lonely common- the blue distance- the far off ocean filling, as with a line of light, the undulations of the almost unbroken horizon. But if a more rapid transition in the chain of thought, or a more awakening note of moral interest, be requisite, the landscape is peopled with human sympathies-the introduction sometimes of a solitary figure, sometimes of a group, brings us back to the feelings and the interests the joys and sorrows-to the temporal comforts and eternal salvation of our kind.

66

NOTE 6.-Page 189, line 11.

Thee, gentle savage!

Omai, to whom this beautiful apostrophe is addressed, was a native of the Friendly Islands. He acted as interpreter to Captain Cook, during his third voyage of circumnavigation, and accompanied him to England in 1775. The arrival, in the polished circles of the metropolis, of one rude from his native bowers," was an event that necessarily excited much attention. Omai became an object of interest to the wise, and of curiosity to the gay; yet, though a person of no consequence among his own people, he shewed so much intelligence, so just a deference to usages which he could not comprehend, united with so proper a reliance upon himself, that even Dr Johnson was charmed with his deportment. To have been praised by our greatest moralist, and painted by the first of British artists, were distinctions which hardly admitted of increase, had not Cowper made the future fortunes of their object the theme of

his meditations. Johnson's compliment has been pronounced just, because the essentials of good breeding, good sense, and right feeling, are the same in all conditions of mankind; Reynolds' picture of Omai, in his national dress and amid his island scenery, is a beautiful specimen of art; but the verses of Cowper are accused of being unfaithful to the principles of human nature. The representation appears to us, on the contrary, to be both individually and generally correct. Omai was restored to his country, in 1776, with all the appliances which could minister to his comfort, and under every pledge that could give security to their enjoyment; still, when he beheld his protectors about to depart, he entreated Cook with tears to be taken on board and carried back to England. Cowper could hardly know these particulars, yet he has rightly imagined Omai unhappy; first, as an outcast from civilized life, the blessings and refinements of which he had begun to taste; next, as a savage, but denied the conventional advantages which might have reconciled him again to the savage state.

BOOK II.

NOTE 1.-Page 195, line 19.

Alas for Sicily! rude fragments now

Lie scatter'd where the shapely column stood.

This description is elevated far above the ordinary even tenor of Cowper's numbers; nor is there in Milton a passage of loftier harmony, or embellished with nobler or more awful imagery. But local themes and passing occurrences impress the minds of contemporaries with an importance which no poetical record of the same transactions can embody to successors. The earthquake of 1783, which destroyed Messina and shook the whole island, accompanied also, as it was, with storms and fogs that extended over all Europe, though it deeply affected men's minds at the time, is not now remembered even in Sicily. Yet the ravages of the visitation seem still remarkably recent in many places of the interior. We recollect to have read the description in the text, while seated amid the ruins of a Christian church which had been built within the area and between the remaining pillars of a heathen temple. The former had been cast down, the latter, though two thousand years older, had resisted the shock. The whole presented an incongruous, consequently disagreeable, mass of ruin. Perishable materials, inelegant design, and unsubstantial workmanship, employed in the service of the living God, while strength, solidity, and beauty, had been given to idols. Alas! thought we, how sad, yet how apt an emblem would our author have found here of the human heart!

NOTE 2.-Page 198, line 26.

And learn, though late, the genuine cause of all.

Nothing has done more to shut out the beautiful poetry and the pure Christianity of Cowper's page from the hearts and the shelves of the learned, than the exacerbations against philosophy with which the Task is so unnecessarily and so injudiciously filled. Nor has the evil rested with those who could apply the remedy. Unlettered Christians are but too apt to entertain suspicion of human learning; a fatal prejudice is thus fostered in the minds of those readers whose attainments do

The

not enable them to appreciate the delightful and the valuable companionship existing between true faith and genuine philosophy. Faith is the consummation of philosophy, philosophy the handmaid of faith. object of both is the same,-truth: but God is truth. Philosophy leads to this highest, happiest, best of all Truth, as it lies within human reach in the works of the Creator; faith conducts immediately by the word, not merely to the contemplation, but the enjoyment, of Truth in its very essence. They are two streams of knowledge flowing from the same fountain of universal intelligence.

All truth is from the sempiternal source
Of light divine.

NOTE 3.-Page 213, line 21.

And stands an impudent and fearless mask,

"The life and adventures of Discipline, with the anarchy in public schools which has followed his demise, form a very lively allegorical picture. The metaphor of the quiver and arrows, with which the passage closes, is bold and original in application, though borrowed from a noble scriptural comparison. As arrows in the hand of a mighty man, so are the children of our youth.' -MONTGOMERY.

NOTE 4.- Page 213, last line.

And the land stunk, so numerous was the fry.

Cowper is by many praised as a satirist; we regard in general his attempts in this line as forming neither the most useful nor meritorious portion of his writings. He is too fierce in his severity against vice, and wants playfulness in exposing foibles. No man has successfully cultivated satire who has lived much in retirement. Not only must one know the world, in order to expose its errors, but he must have acquired the coolness and tact, the humanity even, which arise from experience of life and of the mixture of good with evil in human character, before he can hope effectually to reform. Of these requisites Cowper was so destitute, that he not unfrequently mistakes the proper objects of satire, and at others his indignation so far exceeds the offence, that, as in the case of unmerciful punishment, we take part with the offender. His repeated and often unmerited strictures upon the clergy and clerical establishments are particularly to be regretted; they have given to his writings an appearance of sectarian asperity foreign to their real spirit and to his own predilections.

BOOK III.

NOTE 1.- Page 215, line 15.

While the nitrous air,

Feeds a blue flame and makes a cheerful hearth.

The expression here, somewhat affectedly, seems to allude to the nearly contemporary researches of Priestley, who named oxygen gas, on its first discovery, nitrous air.