Keview of New Publications. Private Correspondence of WILLIAM COWPER, Esq. with several of his most intimate friends. Now first published from the originals in the possession of his kinsman, John Johnson, LL. D., Rector of Yaxham with Welborne in Norfolk. Philadelphia, 1824. pp. 385. 8vo. THE publication of the private correspondence and history of men who have attracted admiration by their genius or learning, is an acquisition, on many accounts. Until modern times, documents of this kind were not extensively circulated. We have looked on the great characters of former ages, and extolled, without knowing much concerning them. From the works to which they owe their celebrity, we conjecture indeed what the authors were; but their private and confidential epistles would have afforded certain and particular information. In these effusions, a man unconsciously exhibits his true character. He betrays the secrets of his heart. We see him at his fireside, and in the moments of relaxation: and it gratifies the curiosity of readers, to know not merely the writer, but the man. Familiar let ters are a species of autobiography which are not less authentic, and much more modest and graceful, than professed memoirs of one's self. The knowledge which his correspondent has respecting him, will keep him to the truth; and as he insensibly adapts his thoughts and manner, to the character of those to whom he writes, or to his own opinion of it, we read his cominunications with an interest extending both to him, and to them. Add to this, from these unbosoming details we learn the pantings and struggles of the mind after the particular excellence by which it be comes distinguished; and often we cau trace the successive steps by which that excellence was attained. And finally, the opinions of these men concerning their celebrated contemporaries, or others of former ages, expressed and drawn forth in the confidence of friendship, are valuable bints, showing, if not the relative standing of the great among themselves, at least their disposition towards one another. It is a want of something of this kind, as above intimated, which we feel in the information that has reached us concerning antiquity. In the individuals whose names have come down to us, we know little of the history of their hearts, and are seldom favoured, if we may so term it, with their domestic and every-day view of things. Except in the case of Cicero, Pliny, and a few others, we are mostly destitute of that moral or intellectual self-description and self-dissection, afforded by this familiar species of writing. Doubtless the paucity of works of fiction, in which domestic scenes, and the more hidden, but powerful passions are depicted, have also contributed to a dearth of information concerning the_private history of the ancients. The resources of modern times, not only in novels and autobiographies, but in letters, are much greater than antiquity can boast of; and although the Romans are said to have culti vated letter-writing in particular, with great success, yet not many specimens of their accomplishment in this art have been handed down for our inspection. Notwithstanding, however, the benefits attached to the publication of private letters, and especially of those that were never designed for the public eye, we apprehend that it is a procedure not wholly unat tended with danger. The effects produced are often similar to those which are perceived in that species of biography, which details the miscellaneous conversation of a man of learning. Boswell rendered no essential service, on the whole, to the memory of Johnson, by a work of this description, in which wisdom is too apt to be mingled with folly. If the narrative be faithful, justice can scarcely be done to the person concerned, or to our idea of him, formed from his writings for who can converse with the elegance, precision, or force, with which he can write? Who can present those tones, looks, and gestures, which impart to conversation half of its fascinations? Even so a man's familiar epistles, taken in connexion with the information they convey concerning himself, may do him less justice than his set compositions. The expectations created by the latter, would not be apt to be answered by the former. In this view of the publicity given to the familiar epistolary effusions of men of genius, however it may fare with our judgment, our imagination suffers loss. It is much cooled down by an intimate acquaintance with them-an acquaintance, such as their letters furnish. In fancy, we love to contemplate these spirits, as moving in a higher and purer region than other men-as having a nobler order of ideas, or a different method of acquiring and exhibiting them-as feeding on angel's food, on thoughts that voluntary move harmonious numbers." But when we have an opportunity of coming into the chambers of this gifted portion of our race, especially into the chambers of their hearts, and of learning the springs that move within the incipient form which their thoughts assume, the spell is, in a measure, broken. The demigod and the angel are reduced more nearly to the measure, and appear too plainly in the earthliness of common mea. There seems too great a similarity in the processes of thought, and invention, when we inspect them closely, between one man and another,to leave much room for that exclusive admiration, to which the illusions of fancy, in this case, give birth. Add to this; there is that in familiarity and nearness of view, which, in itself, diminishes effect. The picture, or the statue, which would strike one as a masterpiece of the art, at a distance, is not designed to be inspected nearly, and in all its minute touches. So inspected, beauties would turn into blemishes, and expressive delineations into unmeaning blurs. There is no man whose internal texture is so fine, or perfect, that an intimate acquaintance with him, will not bring out to view, some coarseness or defect. There is no disposition so lovely-no genius so transcendent, as not to suffer an abatement in our admiration, when we see its pos sessor, like other men, engaged in the turbulent, or trifling concerns of life. We know not any exception to this law of nature, in our sublunary world. Nothing here is perfect. The fairest objects have their deformities. The smoothest surface, when viewed in a microscope, presents to the eye its inequalities and roughnesses. Christian piety, we are assured, can be inspected closely and habitually, with less danger than any thing else, of having our respect degenerate into indifference. In itself, a holy mind must contemplate it, with unmingled satisfaction. But associated as it is on earth, with so corrupt a thing as the human heart, it shares the fate of every other estimable possession. Our admiration of any one individual, when he is intimately known, will necessarily be qualified. The interior of the pious mind being laid open to minute inspection, there is much in it which we can never view with complacency. Light there is, but it is mingled with shade. If it has wisdom, it has folly also. Those productions of a powerful intellect which seem so perfect, and the emanations only of purity, own yet a connection with a mind, which groans under its sinful corruptions. We have said more perhaps in illustration of this subject than was strictly necessary; and we have not said it from any regret that such a result, as has been described, takes place from an intimate acquaintance with illustrious minds. The good on the whole outweighs the evil. Our curiosity is gratified and our knowledge is increased, while only the wings of our imagination are clipped, or certain agreeable illusions are dissipated. From not knowing many particulars concerning them, we may fancy that Homer and Plato lived in some unearthly, abstracted manner-that they fed on some pure, etherial aliment unknown to our modern bards and sages. But for being obliged to believe that the masters of mind, in these days, subsist like other people, we find some compensation, in the numerous documents we possess, furnished chiefly by their own hands detailing their private history. It is needless to say that the operation of the cause of which we have spoken, is visible, even in Cowperthe name placed at the head of this article. It is a name exceedingly dear to us, and to every friend of talent and virtue, and we hail with heartfelt satisfaction, a portion of Cowper's private correspondence in addition to that which has already been before the public. But pure and splendid as his genius was, his letters show him in the imperfection and littleness of man. By this remark, we do not mean, that there is any cause for esteeming him less, on account of his letters, or what his letters disclose; (they constitute a portion of his deserved celebrity,) but they describe, and that faithfully, a frail and erring mortal. We see Cowper as he was, and not as our fancies, enchanted with the "more than mortal sweetness" of his strains in the Task, would depict him, in almost angelic perfection. They characterize him under a peculiarity of circumstances, which associate the little with the great, the ludicrous with the dignified. Absorbed, as we may be, in the displays of his tender and sublime genius, we can scarcely help calling to mind, in view of his private history, that Cowper for the sake of enjoying life, was necessitated to become by turns, a painter, a gardener, and a bird cage maker-and to pursue, in his maturer years, many of the sports aud pastimes of childhood. We cannot help calling to mind, also, as to his intellectual and moral habits, that he was characterized by an almost feminine softness, by a distressing diffidence, depression of spirits, and want of self-controlthat he was subject to unmanly terrors, and that he was scarcely exempt from superstitious weakness. Who would believe unless told of it, that a man of Cowper's sense was horribly afraid of the month of January. Yet if these things must be, we are gratified to know them. Every item of information relating to the feelings and conduct of such men, is highly valued: and though we can by no means adore him, we feel it to be a privilege, as well to weep over his weakness and sufferings. as to rejoice in the instances of his splendid success. Cowper has been the subject of much remark, both in the literary and in the religious world, and his works are evidently among the few, which are destined to immortality. As a poet, we may venture to assert, that he has seldom been equalled. There are strains of moral sublimity and powerful feeling in the Task, which none, except himself, or Milton, his only rival, in the religious poetic, could have produced. We know indeed that some flippant censures have been passed on Cowper's poetry; and it is possible, as some critics have remarked, that his ver ses, though full of thought are not so musical as to fasten on the memory, like those of several other poets; yet we doubt, leaving every one to judge what poetry best suits himself, whether a person of genuine poetic taste, unless swayed by some extraneous considerations, can fail to admire the author of the Task. As a man, however, we have not the least suspicion, but that Cowper interests every person who peruses his history. He was no common character. There was a peculiarity in the structure of his mind, and in his physical temperament, which astonishes every one. Such a capacity for relishing moral excellence, and the beauties of nature-such a tenderness and simplicity of feeling, approaching to an almost infantile sportiveness and innocence of purposesuch a dread of public notice, and yet such a desire to deserve it—such susceptibility of happiness, and still such an actual subjection to suffering, the world perhaps, never saw united in one subject. Rosseau, with his keen sensibility, and "perpetual bankerings after some unat tainable state of voluptuous virtue and happiness," may have been as singular a man, and as to natural constitution, singular somewhat in the same way; but the diversity in moral character, between him and Cowper is so great, that we feel it to be almost impious to compare them with each other. In Cowper's mind, there was a surprising mixture of solemnity and cheerfulness-of severity and tenderness; and what has been the lot of but very few, he was equally pathetic, and comic. It is impossible, we conceive, in perusing his unadorned account of himself, in his letters, for readers not to share largely in all his feelings his comforts and sorrows. Their attention becomes fixed-their sympathy is complete. We feel a regard for him, which rises into admiration, or is softened into pity, aceording as his mind is free to exert its powers, or is depressed by gloom. VOL. VI.-No. 12. 81 Cowper carries us along with him, thus making his letters a most per- are admirable in their kind, and not unworthy of comparison with the bard's. We speak of them merely as letters, and are not at all solicitous to commend them, except for the talent, and a sort of natural pleasantness of temper, which they exhibit in the author. We deeply regret that productions, written not only with remarkable ease and playfulness, but with a spirit, an elegance, a richness of incident not easily surpassed, should be tarnished with any portion of that profane levity, and infidel sneering, which has literally blackened his celebrated historical work. The letters of Cowper are the effusions of a mind enlightened, and of a heart sanctified by the Holy Spirit,though the one was naturally strong, and the other susceptible. Those of Gibbon are the offspring of talent, learning, and feeling of an high order indeed, but wanting the perfect finish, and the irresistible charm, which evangelical piety imparts to distinguished efforts of the jutellect. It is with the religion of Cowper, however, that we have the most concern. On this part of his character much also has been remarked. Not that there has been any essential diversity of opinion among pious men, concerning the religion of the poet. It is decisively of the evangelical cast. So far as the friends of truth are concerned in their observations on this subject, it is only in some of the details of his religious character that they are not agreed-points concerning which there has been a want of information. In regard to the opposers of vital godliness, we have to say that Cowper has been abundantly pointed out by them, as an instance of the unhappy effects supposed to proceed from that system of doctrines which he embraced, in inspiring the last degree of melancholy and depression. Never was an opinion more unfounded. But it is not our design to detain our readers here, in vindicating the poet, or rather christianity itself, against such an aspersion. We shall reserve a few thoughts on this topic, towards the conclusion of our remarks, since perhaps, the present publication has imparted additional light respecting the moral and constitutional peculiarities of the poet. While, however, good men have not been divided, concerning Cowper's christian character as a whole, they have discovered it, more in his poems, than in bis letters, and in the history given of him by Hayley It was the tenderness, by some so called, but we should rather say, the false delicacy-the religious indifference of this biographer, that induced him to suppress the most of those letters, in which serious topics are introduced. We are aware indeed, that the religion of the poet is tinged with a profound melancholy, and that the notice of it in his letters, is intended to apply chiefly to his own situation and prospects; but it is nevertheless religion, and religion, for the most part, of a deeply experimental stamp. His theological views are strictly orthodox, divested of their personal application, and wrong only when they are converted into arguments against himself, The publication of letters of this description, was therefore eminently due to the poet. If they are not necessary to assure the readers of his poetry, that he was a man of decided evangelical feelings, they are necessary at least to shew his consistency in some desirable particulars: They are necessary to illustrate more fully, that character of loveliness in which his poetry presents him, to serious readers. The correspondence and balance of every part of his character are thus restored and preserved. The letters, of which specimens are about to be presented to the reader, are addressed principally to the correspondents of Cowper, whose names are already so well known, in the former volumes. Though they were withheld by |