The biographical publications of the last year are of more than usual value: Mr. layley has brought forward a third volume of the letters of Cowper, which, upon e whole, will not be found inferior to the preceding ones. Lord Teignmouth has ected a durable monument to the memory of his illustrious friend, sir William nes; and, after making every necessary allowance for the partiality of friendship, must be confessed by every unbiassed reader, that the bright assemblage of abiies and virtues in this excellent person, fully qualifies him to rank among those orthies, whom future generations of Britons will remember with pride and respect. x volumes of correspondence, between Richardson, our great novelist, and his ends, have been edited by Mrs. Earbauld; and the work is enriched by a preli nary essay, containing a very acute and most elegant critique on the merits and fects of the three great productions of this celebrated writer. Lord Grenville has nferred a favour on the public, by communicating to it some letters of the great Chatham to his nephew, lord Camelford, which shew the noble writer in the ld majesty of private life, as an affectionate kinsman, and a genuine christian. 55 Seward has published a very interesting account of the life of Dr. Darwin till removal from Litchfield. Enough, and more than enough, has appeared from › quarters, of the political and private life of John Wilkes, a man detestable for moral profligacy, but whose political firmness will be long remembered with titude by every friend to the liberty and laws of England. A new and enlarged tion of the life of that ardent and intrepid and guileless, but rash and impru it man, Gilbert Wakefield, has been published since his death by his two intite friends, Mr. Rutt, and Mr. Wainewright. Dr. Priestley, whom the Unitais revere as the restorer of primitive christianity, and whose name his country I always inscribe among her greatest philosophers, has found a biographer equal indeed to the mighty task of appreciating his various talents) in Mr. ry. Mr. Irvine has published a very meritorious sketch of the lives of the Scotpoets; and an anonymous author has communicated some curious and enter ing theatrical anecdotes in a life of Macklin.

. 1. The Life and Posthumous Writings of William Couper, Esq. By WILLIAM HAYLEY, Esq. Vol. III. 4to. pp. 416.

HE favourable reception which the
ic gave to the two former volumes
is work was a sufficient encourage
t for the editor to employ his indus-
in collecting materials for a third;
we doubt not that he will be thought
ally to have consulted the reputation
is deceased friend,, and the interests
iterature, in his publication of the
ent volume. It consists entirely of
tional letters of Cowper, exclusively
me desultory remarks on the letters
minent persons, prefixed by the edi-
and the fragment of a poem, with
h the volume concludes.

Mr. Hayley's Remarks on EpistoCompositions, we have not much y beyond the epithet which he him

self gives them, that they are desultory.
Their chief scope seems to be, the refu-
tation of the common opinion, that letter-
writing in England has not attained to the
degree of perfection which it has done in
France and other countries. He has main-
tained his point rather by reference to a
few instances than by a general estimate;
and there is nothing in the comparison so
prominent as his digression to the quar-
rel between lady Wortley Mont
Pope, and his apologetical discussion of
the epistolary merits of the latter writer.
The subsequent sketch of the published
letters of eminent persons in different
ages and countries is amusing though
too superficial to afford much instruc-
tion. On reverting to the letters of his

friend, he repeats his former eulogies upon them, which, we believe, their intrinsic merits have fully justified in the opinion of the public; were it not so, his vindication, in the words of Pliny, of excess in praising a friend, would scarcely excuse his want of judgment or sincerity as an editor, however amiable such a defect might appear.

The letters of Cowper now published, in number 163, are, with very few ex. ceptions, in correspondence with the Rev. John Newton, and the Rev. Wil. liam Unwin. The cast of these two sets of letters is considerably different. The first have the air of being written to a kind of father-confessor, a revered friend, who had obtained an ascendency over him at a time when his mind was weakened by the effects of past derangement, and for whose religious and moral character he felt a sincere esteem; but whom, when he returned to the literary ideas and occupations which his genius and education prompted, he discerned not to be qualified for the guide of his taste and the confidant of his studies. The second are marked with all the ten

der and playful freedom, and the perfect reciprocation of sentiment, which were called forth by a younger friend, (he was the son of the lady with whom Cowper passed so much of his life,) who, to an entire conformity with him of serious principles, added all the elegant furniture of mind arising from early and li

beral culture. The letters to Mr. Newton are, however, by no means void of pleasantry, nor, indeed, of literary observation; and, on the other hand, those

to Mr. Unwin contain much solid and grave matter; but the general tenor of both corresponds with the ideas above suggested. In particular, these remarks

upon books and authors which will most interest the reader, are almost all communicated to Mr. Unwin.

One solitary letter appears written to a great man; one, to whom the public were once willing to grant that title exclusively of mere station. Presuming upon the familiar intimacy of early life, the modest Cowper ventured to send it as introductory to the present of his first volume of poems. We shall copy it.

"My lord, "I make no apology for what I account a duty; I should offend against the cordiality of our former friendship, should I send a volume into the world, and forget how much

I am bound to pay my particular respects th
your lordship upon that occasion. When
we parted, you little thought of hearing from
me again; and I as little, that I should live
to write to you, still less, that I should wait
on you in the capacity-of an author.
send, there is one, for which I must entreat
"Among the pieces I have the honour to
your pardon. I mean that of which your
lordship is the subject. The best exeus I
can make is, that it flowed almost spoat-
neously from the affectionate remembrance of

a connection that did me so much honour.

"As to the rest, their merits, if they have

any, and their defects, which are probably them escape your notice. But where there is much discernment, there is generally much candour; and I commit myself into your lordship's hands with the less anxiety, being well acquainted with yours.

more than I am aware of, will neither of

"If my first visit, after so long an interval, should prove neither a troublesome, nor a dull one, but especially if not altogether an unprofitable one, omne tuli punctum.

"I have the honour to be, though with very different impressions of some subjects, yet with the same sentiments of affection and esteem as ever, your lordship's faithful, and most obedient, humble servant."

We

shall not inquire whether pride, inde This letter produced no answer. lence, or insensibility, were the cause of this neglect: if the former, we cannot be sorry that his lordship has lived to see the name of Cooper placed at a height in the scale of fame which leaves that of Thurlow far beneath it. To posterity the difference will be still more sensi

ble.

Did we think it our business to point out every letter in this collection which

is conspicuous either for good sense, taste, or humour or to enter into con troversial discussions, wherever we see should be apt to give this article a dis reason to differ from the author, we proportionate length. But, as we don't not that it will be read through by every one who has perused the preceding vo lumes, and as we wish not to obtrude shall content ourselves with adding ano our own sentiments unnecessarily, we ther specimen or two of the entertai ment to be expected from the book. ment to be expected from the book.

lic and private education are well Cowper's sentiments concerning pub known from his masterly poem of "Tirocinium." It may be interesting, however, to see how he reasons upon this important subject in plain prose. The following is a second letter on education written to his friend Unwin, who had a

a of the age which rendered a deter- me it appears so. nation of this point requisite.

་

My dear friend,

"Now for the sequel. You have antici-
ed one of my arguments in favour of a
e education, therefore, I need say but
e about it. The foily of supposing that
mother-tongue, in some respects the most
cell of all tongues, may be acquired with-
teacher, is predominant in all the pub
schools that I have ever heard of. To
unce it well, to speak and to write it
ta fluency and elegance, are no easy at-
Pents; not one in fifty of those who pass
agh Westminster and Eton, arrive at
markable proficiency in these accom-
eats; and they that do, are more in-
td to their own study, and application
ut, than to any instruction received there.
general, there is nothing so pedantic as
ayle of a school-boy, if he aims at any
all, and if he does not, he is of
ne inelegant, and perhaps ungrammati-
A defect, no doubt, in great measure,
ng to a want of cultivation, for the same
that is often commended for his Latin,
cently would deserve to be whipped for
English, if the fault were not more his
ster's than his own. I know not where
evil is so likely to be prevented as
hame. Supposing always, nevertheless,
hich is the case in your instance) that the
parents, and their acquaintances, are
ons of elegance and taste themselves.
to converse with those who converse
propriety, and to be directed to such au-
, as have refined and improved the lan-
ge by their productions, are advantages
ch he cannot elsewhere enjoy in an equal
gee. And though it requires some time
regulate the taste, and form the judgment,
these effects must be gradually wrought
upon the best understanding, yet I sup-
se, much less time will be necessary for
purpose, than could at first be imagined,
use the opportunities of improvement
contional.

"A public education is often recommend
as the most effectual remedy for that bash-
and awkward restraint, so epidemical
Bong the youth of our country. But I ve-
ly believe, that, instead of being a cure, it
niten the cause of it. For seven or eight
ars of his life, the boy has hardly seen or
aversed with a man, or a woman, except
maids at his boarding-house. A gentle-
or lady are consequently such novelties
him, that he is perfectly at a loss to know
hat sort of behaviour he should preserve be-
are them. He plays with his buttons, or
strings of his hat, he blows his nose,
and hangs down his head, is conscious of
own deficiency to a degree that makes
quite unhappy, and trembles lest any
nice should speak to him, because that would
quite overwhelm him. Is not all this miser-
able shyness the effect of his education? To

If he saw good company

every day, he would never be terrified at the sight of it, and a room full of ladies and gentlemen, would alarm him no more than the chairs they sit on. Such is the effect of

custom.

“I need add nothing further on this subject, because I believe little John is as likely to be exempted from this weakness as most young gentlemen we shall meet with. He scems to have his father's spirit in this respect, in whom I could never discern the least trace of bash ulness, though I have often heard him complain of it. Under your management, and the influence of your example. I think he can hardly fail to escape it. If he does, he escapes that which has made many a man uncomfortable for life; and ruined not a few by forcing then into mean and dishonourable company; where only they could be free and cheerful.

Connections formed at school, are said to be lasting, and often beneficial. There are two or three stories of this kind upon record, which would not be so constantly cited as they are, whenever this subject happens to be mentioned, if the chronicle that preserves their remembrance, had many besides to boast of. For my own part, I found such friendships, though warm enough in their commencement, surprisingly liable to extinction: and of seven or eight, whom I had selected for intimates, out of about three hundred, in ten years' time not one was left me. The truth is, that there may be, and often is, an attachment of one boy to another, that looks very like a friendship, and while they are in circumstances that enable them mutually to oblige, and to assist each other, promises well, and bids fair to be lasting. Bat they are no sooner separated from each other, by entering into the world at large, than other connections, and new employments, in which they no longer share together, efface the reinembrance of what passed in earlier days, and they become strangers to each other for ever. Add to this, that the man frequently differs so much from the boy, his principles, manners, temper, and conduct, undergo so great an alteration, that we no longer recognize in him our old play fellow, but find him utterly unworthy, and unfit for the place he once held in our affections.

"To close this article, as I did the last, by applying myself immediately to the present concern-little John is happily placed above all occasion for dependance on such precarious hopes, and need not be sent to school in quest of some great man in eutbryo, who may possibly make his fortuna”

We shall only remark upon this statement, that if, in fact, modern schoolboys are found to be little affected with the awkward bashfulness here complained of, it is probably owing to the cus

tom (whether, upon the whole, right or wrong, we shall not determine) of bringing them, when at home, earlier and more freely into mixed company. With respect to the perishable nature of boyish friendships, Cowper had too much reason, from his experience, to dwell upon that topic.

Cowper's talent of drawing a literary character, is pleasingly exemplified in his memorial of that truly elegant modern Latinist, Vincent Bourne.

"I love the memory of Vinny Bourne. think him a better Latin poet than Tibullus, Propertins, Ausonius, or any of the writers in his way, except Ovid, and not at all infe. rior to him. I love him too with a love of partiality, because he was usher of the fifth form at Westminster, when I passed through it. He was so good-natured, and so indolent, that I lost more than I got by him; for he made me as idle as himself. He was such a sloven, as if he had trusted to his genius as a cloak for every thing that could disgust you in his person; and indeed in his writings, he has almost made amends for all. His humour is entirely original-He can speak of a magpie or a cat, in terms so exquisitely appropriated to the character he draws, that one would suppose him animated by the spirit of the creature he describes. And with all his drollery, there is a mixture of rational, and even religions reflection, at times, and always an air of pleasantry, goodnature, and humanity, that makes him, in my mind, one of the most amiable writers in the world. It is not common to meet with an author, who can make you smile, and yet at nobody's expence, who is always entertaining, and yet always harmless, and who, though always elegant and classical, to a degree not always found in the classies themselves, charms more by the simplicity and playfulness of his ideas, than by the neatness and purity of his verse; yet such was the poet Vinny. I remember seeing the duke of Richmond set fire to his greasy Iocks, and box his ears to put it out again."

We could with pleasure copy some of his remarks upon Johnson's Lives of the Pacts, particularly his defence of Prior against the censure of that austere critic; but there is no danger that they will be overlooked by the literary reader. His observation on a critique of Blair's upon a line in the Georgics (letter 105) appears to us dictated by true feeling as well as classical taste; in both of which that author, in the passage referred to, shews a remarkable deficiency. The humour of his comic exemplification of the theory of language adopted by Blair

and Beattie irresistibly compels us to copy it.

"I take it for granted, (he says, in a letter to Mr. Unwin) that these good men agreed upon the subject) in their account of are philosophically correct (for they are both the origin of language; and if the scripture had left us in the dark upon that article, I should very readily adopt their hypothesis, for want of better information. I should suppose for instance, that man made his first effort in speech, in the way of an intege tion, and that al or oh being uttered with wonderful gesticulation, and variety of att tude, must have left his powers of expression quite exhausted: that in a course of time he would invent names for many things, but first for the objects of his daily wants. An apple would consequently be called an apple, and perhaps not many years would elapse be fore the appellation would receive the sarc tion of general use. In this case, and upen this supposition, seeing one in the hand of another man, he would exclaim with a most moving pathos, • Oh_apple!—well and good. Oh apple! is a very affecting speech, but in the mean time it profits him nothing The man that holds it, cats it, and he goes away with Chapple! in his mouth, and with nothing better. Reflecting on his disap pointment, and that perhaps it arose from his not being more explicit, he contrives a term to denote his idea of transfer or grati tous communication, and the next occasion that offers of a similar kind, performs his part accordingly. His speech now stands theOh give apple! The apple-holder perceives himself called upon to part with his from, and, having satisfied his own hunger, is perhaps not unwilling to do so. But unfortunately there is still room for a mistake, and a third person bring present, he gives the apple 10 him. Again disappointed, and again perceiving that his language has not all the cision that is requisite, the oratur retir's le his study, and there, after much deep tataking, conceives that the insertion of a pronoun, whose office shall be to signify is 1 he not only wants the apple to be given, bat given to himself, will emedy all defects; in uses i the next opportunity," and sacerda 10 a wonder, obtains the apple, and by his su cess, such credit to his invention, that pros nouns continue to be in great repute eve after."

Cowper's ideas of religion, though, unfortunately for himself, tinctured with gloom, were, upon the whole, rational and liberal; and he shows in several pa sages, that he was not a man to be duped with false pretences to sanctity, but, in his judgment of characters, applied the test of practical virtue and piety, rather than that of zeal for particular opinions

LETTERS OF GESSNER.

ha member of the national church, id distinguish what was really useher institutions, from what was s; and the following remarks Mr. Paley's sermon preached at secration of bishop Law, contain sound sense and serious truth.

law it down for a rule, that when ngenuity is necessary to gain an argutit, that argument is unsound at So is his, and so are all the petty by which he seeks to enforce it. He t, that the appointment of various or the church, is attended with this good ence, that each class of people is supah a clergy of their own level and dea, with whom they may live and asterms of equality. But in order this good purpose, there ought to be three parsons in every parish, one for ry, one for the traders and mechanics, for the lowest of the vulgar. Neieasy to find many parishes where at large have any society with their at all. This therefore is fanciful, ere invention. In the next place he gives a dignity to the ministry itself; elergy share in the respect paid to periors. Much good may such parin do them! They themselves know tle it amounts to. The dignity a derives from the lawn-sleeves, and ap of his diocesan, will never endannumility. pe says trulymakes the man, and want of it the

how;

rest is all but leather or prunella.'

Rich and splendid situations church have been justly regarded as held out to invite persons of good and ingenuous attainments.' Agreed. e prize held out in the scripture is ry different kind; and our ecclesihits are too often snapped by the les, and persons of no attainments at bey are indeed incentives to avarice bition, but not to those acquirements, wn only the ministerial function can red, zeal for the salvation of men, ty, and self-denial. Mr. Paley and I fore cannot agree."

he twelve letters to lady Hesketh, en in the early part of the poet's will be welcome to readers of correding religious sentiments, and afford

475

some interesting matter of the biogra-
They commence a little
phical kind.
before his appointment to the office in
the house of lords, which he found him-
self unable to take up; and proceed to
his residence at Huntingdon, after reco.
very from his derangement, of which
melancholy affliction he speaks with great
calmness and pious resignation.

The unfinished poem with which the volume concludes is entitled "Yardley Oak." It was fortunately discovered by Hayley in a heap of the writer's old papers. Though a fragment, it was corrected with great care, and it is extraor dinary that none of Cowper's intimate friends had the least knowledge of its existence. It appears to have been written in 1791. This piece has all the characteristics of "the Task;" the same strong, familiar, yet poetical diction, the same minuteness and novelty of description, intermixed with the same elevated strain of moral reflection. The versification is remarkably Miltonic; free, richly varied, and often strikingly melodious. We less regret its remaining in the state of a fragment, as that part of it which relates to the obvious subject, the description of a superannuated oak, once king of the forest, may be regarded as complete; and what we lose was planned on so wide a scale, that it manifestly did not admit of being formed into a single whole; at least, we are not tantalized with a foresight of what it might have been. Conceiving the oak as having been the mute witness of the lapse of ages, he speaks, as it were, in its stead, and reverts to the condition of the father of mankind, while yet a solitary being. What could have limited his discourse, when he commences with that period in which, according to his picturesque ima

course

Eventful should supply her with a theme?"

We will not rob this choice morsel of any more of its beauties, but leave it entire to the reader's appetite.

T. II. The Letters of Gessner and his Family; from the German. Crown 8vo.

Pp. 248.

THIS is an interesting corresponce between Gessner and his son Conwho left his paternal roof at Zurich, rder to study painting at Dresden.

Here he remained two years; he then paid a visit to his parents, and afterwards set out for Rome, from which place the correspondence is renewed.