We have deviated from our direct object, - to commend the uses of the Common School Journal, in order to combat what we esteem to be a false notion; but we trust that our opinions upon this subject are in accord with those of which the Journal is the proper organ. The great respect we have for the intelligence and moral power, employed upon that periodical, has induced this notice of it, and the cause to which it is devoted. To know what to teach, and to show what to teach, and how to teach it, is a noble vocation. To cast out of any popular practice or system all inappropriate instruction, to apply reason and religion, in place of blind custom, to the work of education, to form the rising race to just sentiments and good actions, to rescue them from low desires, vulgar habits, and the apathy of ignorance, is a truly elevated purpose. We believe that such a purpose is not romantic, but entirely attainable; that it grows out of the capabilities of man's moral nature, and our existing necessities as members of society, and that he who announces this purpose, and calls upon all other minds of kindred nature to aid it, confers a favor upon the whole community; a favor which they can best requite by encouraging and assisting his enterprise.

E. R,

ART. III.The Life of William Cowper: by ROBERT SOUTHEY, Esq., LL. D. Poet Laureate, &c. 2 vols. 1839. Boston: Otis, Broaders, & Co.

We are glad to see an American reprint of this new Life of Cowper, which has been prefixed to a new edition of the poet's writings, by the distinguished editor and biographer, Dr. Southey. That sectarian jealousy, which has always been alive and active, whenever the name of Cowper has been brought before the public, since his death, has manifested itself, on the occasion of this new and improved edition of the poet's writings; and it is owing to this jealousy, as we are informed in the preface to the English edition, that this edition cannot be called complete. The volume published some fourteen or fifteen years since, under the title of "Cowper's Private Correspon

dence," was secured by copy-right; and as soon as an offer was made to purchase the right, the old jealousy was roused, and a separate edition of Cowper's works, with a biography prefixed, was hurried before the public, under the name of Mr. Grimshaw, who is lauded as "the only living man who could do justice to the Life of Cowper."

In consequence of the circumstance just mentioned, the edition of Southey must be said to be not complete. Still, he informs us in his preface, that he has wrought "the whole of the information" contained in the "Private Correspondence," so called, into the biography, as he felt himself justified in doing, so that "the purchasers of the present edition will in this respect lose nothing." We have not examined the rival edition, by Grimshaw, and of course cannot speak with accuracy concerning its merits or demerits, neither will the American public, any more than ourselves, be likely to be much interested in the rivalship of two London publishing houses. When, however, Mr. Grimshaw says, that it was his purpose to revise Hayley's life of the poet, purifying it from the errors that detract from its acknowledged value, and adapting it to the demands and expectations of the religious public," we are quite satisfied to remain in ignorance of his work. We do not affect these attempts to adapt works to a particular mode of thought and feeling prevailing in any portion of the community. We have had already too many of similar attempts to adapt Cowper's life to the wants of religious sectaries. There has been as much contention in the religious world among different sects, each of which was anxious to possess itself of Cowper's name and influence, to give vogue to their peculiar sentiments, as there was among the Grecian and Trojan heroes, over the dead body of Patroclus. We should be glad if this vain din might cease. And we welcome, for this reason, the production of an author, who has no sectarian bigotry to gratify by the accomplishment of his task, who is careful not to obtrude his own private religious convictions upon the reader; who takes up the character of his subject in its broad view and relations, who is thoroughly competent to investigate the poet's literary character and claims, and who has liberality of mind enough to consider Cowper as a man having religion, rather than as a religious sectary. How far Dr. Southey has succeeded in his attempt, can now be settled each one for himself. If his biography is not everything we could desire, it at least marks an im

portant advance upon his predecessors. Many things, which Hayley omitted in a spirit of delicate friendship, or because they were unknown to him, are now made public. The insanity of the gifted poet, which was too painful a theme to be entirely laid open by friendship, and the facts of which, religious enthusiasm only distorted, is taken up and discussed in a calm, philosophical spirit and manner; and mysterious and in some of its aspects confessedly inexplicable as that insanity is, it has been at least rescued from some of the darkness superinduced by religious bigotry. Owing to the circumstance, already remarked upon, of the inability of the publishers to purchase the private correspondence, the biography has a character of Mosaic work, as the author, in his preface, himself observes. It is not, as it could not be, characterized by the glow and fervor with which a personal friend, like Hayley, would set forth the incidents of a life in which he had been deeply and tenderly interested. It is the correct production of a scholar, who, although he does not neglect to refresh the memory of his readers with his claims as the Laureate, and upon the strength of this, gives us a pretty long digression upon English poetry, from Chaucer to Churchill, yet is in general more mindful of his subject than of himself.

William Cowper was born in the year 1731. His father was chaplain to George the Second, and rector of Great Berkhamstead, and there in the rectory, the poet first saw the light. At the age of six years he lost his mother, who died young, and by whose youthful face, as copied in the portrait, sent him late in life by one of his relations, he was prompted to write one of the most beautiful of his minor poetical works, which is too well known to be here quoted. He was peculiarly sensitive, delicate, and diffident in his constitution, and seems to have very early begun to experience that unhappiness which followed him through life, and which enveloped his last years in an awful cloud.

"Wretch even then, life's journey just begun."

Upon the death of his mother he was sent to a boardingschool. There his modesty and delicacy exposed him to rude treatment from the older boys, and his experience there laid the foundation of that aversion to public education, which he continued to feel through life, and which he made the subject of one of his poems. He remained at this school two

years; and having passed the two next succeeding with an oculist on account of a weakness in the eyes, was then sent to Westminster, where he continued to reside from the age of ten till he was eighteen years old. After leaving school, and spending nine months at home, he was "sent to acquire the practice of the law with an attorney," and was articled with a Mr. Chapman, for three years. In 1752, at the age of twenty-one, he left the Solicitor's office, and took chambers in the Middle Temple, and on the 14th of July, 1754, was called to the bar. In his chambers in the Temple he resided nearly ten years, depending for present support upon his little patrimony, and relying for the future upon the hopes of patronage, which the influence of his family connexions justified him in entertaining. At this period of his life, he was the gay associate of many, who became distinguished afterwards in politics, or literature, or fashionable circles; and, although the severe and harsh sentence which he himself passed, in reviewing subsequently this portion of his life, is of course not to be taken literally, yet it is easy to conceive, that with his temperament, so diffident, shrinking, and nicely conscientious, his mode of life— lounging frequently in the drawing-rooms of ladies, "giggling and making giggle," and his studies, which were chiefly confined to the classics and the ornamental, rather than to the substantial parts of literature, should have seemed in hours of dejection, as no better than dissipation, aimless and useless. The absence from his views of all expectation from his profession is indicated in the sportive remark which he is reported to have made at that period, to Thurlow, afterwards Lord Chancellor. "Thurlow, I am nobody, and shall be always nobody, and you will be Chancellor. You shall provide for me when you are." He smiled and replied, "I surely will." This pledge, which Cowper extorted from his companion in sport, and which, by the way, was never redeemed, sufficiently betrays the sense of his unfitness to struggle with the world, which was doubtless already preying upon his tender spirit. He had, moreover, suffered a disappointment of the affections, which must have been a sore trial to a person so susceptible and warm-hearted. He had become much attached to his cousin Theodora, second daughter of Ashley Cowper, and sister of Harriet, who is so well known to the readers of Cowper, as the Lady Hesketh, with whom he corresponded for so many years. To a marriage connexion between them,

the father of the lady objected, and they separated, never seeing each other more, but each remaining single through a long life. It is hardly conceivable that this incident should have not made the deepest impression upon such a mind as Cowper's, although Dr. Southey gives it as his opinion that it did not materially contribute to produce that melancholy from which he suffered. However this may have been, it appears that, what with diffidence disqualifying him for the common business of life, disappointment in his affections, and the danger of poverty or dependence, which was now imminent, by reason of the reduction of his little patrimony, a gloom began to settle and deepen over his mind, the consequences of which were dreadfully apparent in his after life. An occasion offered in the year 1763, which proved too much for his morbid diffidence and reserve of character, and which at last brought on the only crisis it could result in insanity. The prospect he had of destitution led him to express the hope to a friend, that one of his kinsmen would confer on him a certain office, which belonged to him to bestow in case of an expected vacancy. The vacancy soon occurred, and the patronage in question was offered; and then it was that Cowper's constitutional diffidence and horror of a public exhibition of himself became apparent. He was required to prepare himself, against a certain day, for examination as to his fitness for the office. This was out of the question. He struggled for a time, now ashamed and angry with himself, that he should think of forfeiting such a chance for honorable independence, and now agonized with the idea of a "public exhibition," - until at last, as the result of this violent discord and contention in his nature, reason gave way, selfcontrol became impossible, insanity succeeded, and suicide was attempted.

In this state of mind he was conveyed to a private madhouse, at St. Alban's, kept by a Dr. Cotton. This was in 1763. After the recovery of his reason, Cowper remained with Dr. Cotton a year; and then, being unwilling to incur any farther obligation to that excellent man, he obtained through bis brother, who was settled at Cambridge, lodgings at Huntingdon, not far from Cambridge, which he took possession of in June, of the year 1765. Here he became acquainted with the Unwin family, with whom he in November of the same year became domesticated, and whose name will forever live associated with his; Mrs. Unwin being the Mary of his poems, VOL. XXVII. 3D S. VOL. IX. NO. III.

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