NORTH SHORE BREEZE. 
ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
It is not little singular that the lives of 
the two poets, Thomson and Cowper, 
who did more than any others to break 
up the artificality in literature with which 
the century opened, and to introduce the 
naturalness with which it closed, should 
have almost exactly covered the century; 
Thomson having been born Sept. 11, 
1700, and Cowper breathing his last, 
April 5, 1800. . ‘ 
The name of Cowper stands for one 
of the gentlest, saddest spirits in English 
literature. His life was one of little out- 
ward incident; born in 1731, losing his 
mother, a woman of remarkable strength 
and sweetness of character, at a tender 
age, thrown into the hurly-burly of our 
English public school with a nature little 
fitting him for its rough and tyrannical 
treatment, called to the bar in 1754, al- 
most his whole after life was shaded by 
the gloom of physical and mental disease. 
But he was a diligent worker in the in- 
tervals of lucidity and comparative health, 
was of a most lovable nature, witty and 
genial, a master of poetic, moral and re- 
ligious sentiment, aman who lived and 
died with the affection and honor of _ all 
who knew him. Cowper is now little 
read, but his memory is one of the most. 
fragrant in all the long list of English 
writers in prose and verse. 
Cowper’s longer poems, which first 
brought him into notice and on which 
his fame chiefly rests, as the Task, Hope, 
Charity, the Progress of Error, were 
written partly out of his own experience, 
are full of serious purposes, are largely 
didactic and often prosaic, as their titles 
suggest, containing, however, many 
really poetic passages, for he had the gift 
of melody in high degree. Some of the 
occasional and shorter pieces, numbered 
by scores, are probably more pleasing to 
the general reader, of which may be 
mentioned Lines on my Mother’s pic- 
ture, Boadicea, the Loss of the Royal 
George, Alexander Selkirk, My Mary, 
and others. Besides some gleams of 
humor in some of his other verses, he 
composed one poem, sparkling with mir- 
riment, the Diverting History of John 
Gilpin, which is probably best known of 
all his works, and by which he would 
continue to be remembered if all his oth- 
er works perished. 
’Cowper’s hymns, sixty-eight in num- 
ber, in which he passed on the torch 
from Charles Wesley, the sweet singer 
of Methodism, form with many by his 
friend John Newton, the once well 
known Olney collection. Few of them 
are now familiar, but those few have 
permanently enriched the church’s 
hymnody. We could ill spare them 
from our treasury of sacred song. 
Among the great excellences of Cow- 
BY D. F. LAMSON. 
per’s poetry, besides its deeply religious 
and ethical spirit, are its naturalness, its 
love of the country, and its humanity. 
With Wordsworth, who came upon the 
stage about as Cowper was leaving it, he 
founded a new school; henceforth the 
pedantry of the age of Pope passed into 
a decline, a new life was breathed into 
English letters that has never since 
ceased to elevate and charm. Brown- 
ing speaks of the “* deathless singing,’’ 
which in The Task “‘opened a new 
era in English literature.’’ 
It is by his poems that Cowper is most 
widely known, and it is these which first 
brought him into notice; but his letters 
are in some respects the best monument 
to his genius. He is, as Southey termed 
him, ‘‘the best letter-writer in the Eng- 
lish language.’’ The following is not 
too high an appreciation: ‘“‘His letters 
are the simple statement of whatever he 
has in his mind; written in pure and 
beautiful English; full of the informa- 
tion and taste of a well-read man; over- 
flowing now with humor, now with deep 
religious feeling. The graceful 
affectionateness, the shrewd estimate of 
men and things, the genuine love of fun 
and appreciation of it in others, all con- 
tributed to make his correspondence de- 
lightful.’” He had the qualities which 
go to the making of our ideal letter-writ- 
er, lightness of touch, ease of expression, 
humor which is never forced, and ami- 
ability which is never exaggerated and 
never wanting. ‘This estimate of Cow- 
per’s works has been made after a care- 
ful reading of his letters which cover 
over thirty-six years and a reperusal of 
his principal poems. 
Through the generosity of his friends, 
Cowper never suffered want; but his in- 
come from his pen was never large, 
though respectable for those times when 
even poets like Gray and Goldsmith re- 
ceived but a mere pittance for their work. 
Literature was not the road to wealth; in 
the beginning of the next century, Edin- 
burg reviewers were contentto ‘cultivate 
literature on a little oatmeal.’’ 
Cowper was. most happy in his friend- 
ships; the Unwins made him for many 
years a genial and sheltered home; Hay- 
ley the poet, John Newton, Joseph Hill, 
and many more, cheered his lonely life; 
Lady Austin who had wit, gayety and 
elegant tastes, and his cousin Lady Hes- 
keth, did much to brighten his frequent 
moods of depression. Cowper was pec- 
uliarly susceptible to the charms of culti- 
vated and virtuous womanhood; an early 
disappointment that no doubt preyed up- 
on a sensitive nature made the delicate 
ministry of these excellent and gifted 
women more valued and necessary. 
Afflicted with a constitutional melan- 
= ee ee 
choly, sometimes passing into paroxysms 
of madness, Cowper’s whole life was 
strung to aminor key; amiable and guile- 
less, with refined tastes and sincerely and 
deeply religious, his mind was like 
sweet bells jangled and out of tune;’’ 
it affords one of the saddest examples of 
the truth that “‘ hearts tuned to finest 
issues vibrate deepest notes of woe.’’ 
His malady, held in check and alleviated 
from time to time by employment, 
change of scene and the assiduous atten- 
tions of friends, made him more its prey, 
and he sank at last into a state of almost 
complete despair, his mind ‘sounding 
along its dim and perilous way.’’ If 
there was norift in the earthly side of 
the storm-cloud, it is a comfort to be told 
that after death there came into his worn 
and wasted features “‘a look of holy sur- 
prise,’ as if the beatific vision had 
dawned upon his astonished gaze. 
[his article ends the series on Eng- 
lish Literature in the Eighteenth Cen- 
tury, Cowper dying almost at its close. 
An article, now in preparation, may fol- 
low, giving in briefest outline the out- 
standing characteristics of the leading 
English writers of the Nineteenth Cen- 
tury whose works are in most instances 
too recent or too familiar to call for ex- 
tended notice. | 
QUATRAINS. 
By JosepH A. Torrey. 
All nature testifies 
That suffering is meet; 
The rose without a thorn 
Were incomplete. 
All doing finds its meed, 
Doing whate’er it can; 
Doing but makes the deed, 
Unselfish doing makes the man. 
All duties on compulsion done 
Are drudgeries and trials. 
All perfect satisfactions 
Are transfigured self-denials. 
Art thou a guest? Methinks ’twere best 
To praise the viands and partake with zest, 
So, to enjoy the gifts that God has given, 
Is worthy praise, acceptable to Heaven. 
As for my cares I have so very few, 
My neighbor’s lot I envy not. . Would you? 
One may have wealth and fame yet live unblest; 
Man’s life consisteth not in things possest. 
FAULKNER 
SECRET SERVICE BUREAU 
LICENSED and BONDED 
83 Tremont St., BOSTON 
Seventh floor, Tremont Temple 
For 16 years has made investigations in 
U.S. and Canada. Highest reference from 
business and professional men. 
W. S. FAULKNER, Mgr. Night and Day ’Phones 
