Page:The poetical works of William Cowper (IA poeticalworksof00cowp).pdf/67

Rh he had never seen a mountain or a lake in his life, never listened to the roar of a torrent, nor slept at sea, nor visited a foreign country, and knew next to nothing of his own, it is not to be wondered at that he was wedded to his own haunts as closely as a snail to its shell, and not a trait of beauty escaped his notice. Ignorance of any other language is said to give a great reader unusual command of his own; and Cowper's case was like this. Grand scenery would have weakened his powers; he was not physically capable of enjoying it. Bodily and mental powers alike were best suited by the Buckinghamshire lanes and pastures. One may know what Olney scenery is like by "The Task" better than by a set of photographs. Nor is this minuteness the work of a mere close observer; he observes as an artist. The description of the flowers in "The Garden," lines 560-595, is very pretty and natural; but that in "The Winter Walk at Noon," lines 141-180, is far more than this. The author is not there describing what is before him, but his imagination sees the flowers as they will be in the coming summer, and the group of colours is as rich and warm as ever was painted by artist. Towards the end of the poem he aims at a higher flight than he has ever aimed at before, and foretells the final victory of the Kingdom of God (pp. 280-282). Herein he reaches, for the first and only time, sublimity.

One of the first results of the success of "The Task" was the renewal of intimacy between the Poet and his relations. He had said to Unwin at the time of publication, "I have had more comfort in the connexions that I have formed within the last twenty years, than in the more numerous ones that I had before. Memorandum, the latter are almost all Unwins or Unwinisms." Several causes had concurred to break off the intimacy between him and his relatives. Lady Hesketh had been repelled by the religious tone of his letters at Huntingdon, and although she retained an unwavering feeling of kindness towards him, she suffered the correspondence to drop when she left England with her husband in 1767. She was now a widow, Sir Thomas having died in 1782. Her father and General Cowper had continued their allowance to him with kindly feeling enough, but with pity, as for one who was useless in the world. He did not send any of them his first volume. But "The Task" and "John Gilpin" soon found its way to them, and Cowper was nearly wild with delight when, on coming down to breakfast one morning, he found a letter in the well-remembered hand of Lady Hesketh, franked by his uncle Ashley. It broke a silence of nineteen years. Her letter is not in existence; scarcely any addressed to Cowper are. In his answer he declares that she has made them all young again, and brought back their happy days as freshly as ever. But he rejoices in her letter most of all because it gives him an opportunity of telling her that neither years nor interrupted intercourse have abated his affection for her. He does not mention