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By his mother's solicitation he was admmitted into Westminster-scho where he was soon distinguished. He was wont, says Sprat, to relate, “ TI “he had this defect in his memory at that time, that his teachers hever cou “bring it to retain the ordinary rules of grammar.” This is an instance of the natural desire of man to propagate a wonder. It surely very difficult to tell any thing as it was heard, when Sprat could n refrain from amplifying a commodious incident, though the book to which I prefixed his narrative contained its confutation. A memory admitting scri things, and rejecting others, an intellectual digestion that concocted the pulp learning, but refused the husks, had the appearance of instinctive elegance, of particular provision made by Nature for literary politeness. But in the author own honest relation, the marvel vanishes: he was, he says, such “an enern to all constraint, that his master never could pievalled on him to learn th “ rules without book.” He does not tell that he could not learn the rules but that, being able to perform his exercises without them, and being ar “enemy to constraint,” he spared himself the labour. Among the English Poets, Cowley, Milton, and Pope, might be said “ to “lisp in numbers;” and have given such early proofs, not only of powers of language, but of comprehension of things, as to more tardy minds seems scarcely credible. But of the learned puerilities of Cowley there is no doubt, since a volume of his poems was not only written but printed in his thirteenth year": containing, with other poetical compositions, “The tragical History “ of Pyramus and Thisbe,” written when he was ten years old; and Con“ stantia and Philetus,” written two years after. While he was yet at school he produced a comedy called “Love's Riddle,” though it was not publised till he had been some time at Cambridge. This comedy is of the pastoral kind, which requires no acquaintance with the living world, and therefore the time at which it was composed adds little to the wonders of Cowley's minority. In 1636, he was removed to Cambridget, where he continued his studies with great intenseness; for he is said to have written, while he was yet a young student, the greater part of his “Davideis;” a work of which the materials could not have been collected without the study of many years, but by a mind of the greatest vigour and activity. Two years after his settlement at Cambridge he published “Love's Riddle,” with a poetical dedication to Sir Kenelm Digby; of whose acquaintance all his contemporaries seem to have been ambitious; and “Naufragium Joculare,” a somedy written in Latin, but without due attention to the ancient models; for it 1S
• This volume was not published before 1633, when Cowley was fifteen years old. Dr. Johnson, as well as former Biographers, seems to have been misled by the portrait of Cowley
being by mi take marked with the age of thirteen years. E. + He was a candidate this year at Westm nster-school for election to Trinity College, but proved unsuccessful. N.
t C O W L E Y. 3 is not loose verse, but mere prose. It was printed, with a dedication in verse to Dr. Comber, master of the college; but having neither the facility of a popular nor the accuracy of a learned work, it seems to be now universally neglected. At the beginning of the civil war, as the Prince passed through Cambridge in his way to York, he was entertained with a representation of the “Guardian,” a comedy, which Cowley says was neither written nor acted, but roughdrawn by him, and repeated by the scholars. That this comedy was printed during his absence from his country, he appears to have considered as injurious to his reputation; though, during the suppression of the theatres, it was sometimes privately acted with sufficient approbation. In 1643, being now master of arts, he was, by the prevalence of the parsiament, ejected from Cambridge, and sheltered himself at St. John's College in Oxford; where, as is said by Wood, he published a satire, called “The Puritan “ and Papist,” which was only inserted in the last collection of his works”; and so distinguished himself by the warmth of his loyalty, and the elegance of his conversation, that he gained the kindness and confidence of those who attended the king, and amongst others of Lord Falkland, whose notice cast a lustre on all to whom it was extended. About the time when Oxford was surrendered to the parliament, he followed the Queen to Paris, where he became secretary to the Lord Jermyn, afterwards Earl of St. Albans, and was employed in such correspondence as the royal cause required, and particularly in cyphering and decyphering the letters that passed between the King and Queen; an employment of the highest confience and honour. So wide was his province of intelligence, that, for several years, it filled all his days and two or three nights in the week. In the year 1647, his “Mistress” was published; for he imagined, as he declared in his preface to a subsequent edition, that “poets are scarce thought “freemen of their company without paying some duties, or obliging them"selves to be true to Love.” This obligation to amorous ditties owes, I believe, its original to the fame of Petrarch, who, in an age rude and uncultivated, by his tuneful homage to his Laura, refined the manners of the lettered world, and filled Europe with love and poetry. But the basis of all excellence is truth: he that professes love ought to feel its power. Petrarch was a real lover, and Laura doubtless deserved his tenderness. Of Cowley, we are told by Barnest, who had means though of information, that whatever he may talk of his own inflammability, and the variety of characters by which his heart was divided, he in reality was in love but once, and then never had resolution to tell his passion. This consideration cannot but abate, in some measure, the reader's esteem for the work and the author. To love excellence, is natural; it is natural likewise for B 2 - the * In the first edition of this Life, Dr. Johnson wrote, “which was never inverted in any “collection of his works;” but he altered the expression when the Lives were collected inte volumes. The satire was added to Cowley's works by his desire. N. of Bantsii Anacreonteia. Dr. J. §
the lover to solicit reciprocal regard by an elaborate display of his own qualifications. The desire of pleasing has in different men produced actions of heroism, and effusions of wit; but it seems as reasonable to appear the champion as the poet of an “airy nothing,” and to quarrel as to write for what Cowley'might have learned from his master Pindar to call the “dream of a shadow.” It is surely not difficult, in the solitude of a college, or in the bustle of the world, to find useful studies and serious employment. No man needs to be so burthened with life as to squander it in voluntary dreams of fictitious occurrences. The man that sits down to suppose himself charged with treason or peculation, and heats his mind to an elaborate purgation of his character from crimes which he was never within the possibility of committing, differs only by the infrequency of his folly from him who praises beauty' which he never saw ; complains of jealousy which he never felt; supposes himself sometime; invited, and sometimes forsaken; fatigues his fancy, and ransacks his memory, for images which may exhibit the gaiety of hope, or the gloominess of despair, and dresses his imaginary Chloris or Phyllis sometimes in flowers fading as her beauty, and sometimes in gems lasting as her virtues. At Paris, as secretary to Lord Jermyn, he was engaged in transacting things of real importance, with real men and real women, and at that time did not much employ his thoughts upon phantoms of gallantry. Some of his letters to Mr. Benrict, afterwards Earl of Arlington, from April to December in 1650, are preserved in “Miscellanea Aulica,” a collection of papers published by Brown. These letters, being written like those of other men whos mind is more on things than words, contribute no otherwise to his reputation than as they shew him to have been above the affectation of unseasonable elegance, and to have known that the business of a statesman can be little forwarded by flowers of rhetorick. One passage, however, seems not unworthy of some notice. Speaking of the Scotch treaty then in agitation: “The Scotch treaty,” he says, “is the only thing row in which we are vitally “concerned; I am one of the last hopers, and yet cannot now abstain from be“lieving, that an agreement will be made: all people upon the place incline to “ that of union. The Scotch will moderate something of the rigour of their “ demands; the mutual necessity of an accord is visible, the King is persuaded “ of it. And to tell you the truth (which I take to be an argument above all “ the rest) Virgil has told the same thing to that purpose.” This expression from a secretary of the present time, would be considered as merely ludicrous, or at most as an ostentatious display of scholarship; but the manners of that time were so tinged with superstition, that I cannot but suspect Cowley of having consulted on this great occasion the Virgilian lots”, and to have given some credit to the answer of his oracle. Some
* Consulting the Virgilian Lots, Sortes Virgilianæ, is a method of Divination by the opening of Virgil, and applying to the circumstances of the perurer the first passage in either of the two pages that he accidentally fixes his eye on. It is said, that king Charles I. and Lord Falkland,
! someyears afterwards, “business,” says Sprat, “passed of course into other *" hands," and Cowley, being no longer useful at Paris, was in 1656 sent back into England, that, “under pretence of privacy and retirement, he might take
occasion “of giving notice of the posture of things in this nation.”
Soon after his return to London he was seized by some messengers of the usurping powers, who were sent out in quest of another man; and being
fakland, being in the Bodleian library, made this experiment of their future fortunes, and
met with passages equally ominous to each. That of the king was the following:
At bello audacis populi vexatus et armis,
- - - AEneid, book IV. line 615.
Non haec, O Palla, dederas promissa parenti, -
AEneid, book XI. line 52. '
O Pallas, thou hast faird thy plighted word,
Homan, in his Lexicon, gives a very satisfactory account of this practice of seeking fates in * *d says, that it was used by the Pagans, the Jewish Raboins, and even the early
"ins; the latter taking the New Testament for their oracle. H.
examined was put into confinement, from which he was not dismissed without the security of a thousand pounds given by Dr. Scarborough. This year he published his poems, with a preface, in which he seems to have inserted something, suppressed in subsequent editions, which was interpreted to denote some relaxation of his loyalty. In this preface he declares, “that his desire “had been for some days past, and did still very vehemently continue, to retire “ himself to some of the American plantations, and toforsake this world for ever.” From the obloquy which the appearance of submission to the usurpers brought upon him, his biographer has been very diligent to clear him, and indeed it does not seem to have lessened his reputation. His wish for retirement we can easily believe to be undissembled; a man harrassed in one kingdom, and persecuted in another, who, after a course of business that employed all his days and half his nights in cyphering and decyphering, comes to his own country and steps into a prison, will be willing enough to retire to some place of quiet, and of safety. Yet let neither our reverence for a genius, nor our pity for a sufferer, dispose us to forget that if his activity was virtue, his retreat was cowardice. He then took upon himself the character of Physician, still, according to Sprat, with intention “to dissemble the main design of his coming over,” and, as Mr. Wood relates, “ complying with the men then in power (which was “much taken notice of by the royal party), he obtained an order to be created “Doctor of Phosick, which being done to his mind, (whereby he gained the “ill-will of some of his friends), he went into France again, having made a “copy of verses on Oliver's death.” This is no favourable representation, yet even in this not much wrong can be discovered. How far he complied with the men in power, is to be enquired before he can be blamed. It is not said that he told them any secrets, or assisted them by intelligence, or any other act. If he only promised to be quiet, that they in whose hands he was might free him from confinement, he did what no law of society prohibits. - * The man whose miscarriage in a just cause has put him in the power of his enemy may, without any violation of his integrity, regain his liberty, or preserve his life, by a promise of neutrality: for the stipulation gives the enemy nothing which he had not before; the neutrality of a captive may be always secured by his imprisonment or death. He that is at the disposal of another, may not promise to aid him in any injurious act, because no power can compel active obedience. He may engage to do nothing, but not to do ill. There is reason to think that Cowley promised little. It does not appear that his compliance gained him confidence enough to be trusted without security, for the bond of his bail was never cancelled ; nor that it made him think himself secure, for at that dissolution of government which followed the . death of Oliver, he returned into France, where he resumed his former station, and staid till the Restoration,