"TO THE REV. DR. PARR.
"Emanuel College, April 18, 1770.
"We have lost the best classic and most liberal thinker in our university, Cowper of Ben'et. He sat so long at his studies, that the posture gave rise to an abscess in his liver, and he fell a victim to learning. The goddess has so few votaries here, that she resolved to take the best offering we had, and she employed Apollonius Rhodius to strike the blow. I write the author again, Apollonius Rhodius. Cowper had laboured hard at an edition of him for several years, and applied so much to his favourite author, that it cost his life. I shall make a bold push for his papers. Yet, what omens I have! Melancthon did but think of a translation, and he died. Hoeltzlinus owns he wrote the latter part of the annotations, manu lassissimâ et corpore imbecillo, and died before he put the last hand to them. Cowper collates all the editions, makes a new translation, and follows his predecessors. One would think that by some unknown fate, or by some curse of his master, Callimachus, our poet was doomed to remain in obscurity. His enemies may say, that the dulness of his verses bears some resemblance to the torpedo, and benumbs or kills whatever touches it."—See Dr. Parr's Works, vol. vii. p. 75.
The following elegy was also composed in honour of his memory by one of his fellow collegians, which evinces the high sense entertained of his character and classical attainments.
ELEGY
ON THE DEATH OF THE REV. JOHN COWPER, OF CORPUS CHRISTI COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, BY A FELLOW COLLEGIAN.
Where art thou, Moschus, and where are we all?
Thou from high Helicon's muse-haunted hill
Advanc'd to Sion's mount celestial:
Encumber'd we with earth and sorrow still.
Before the throne thy golden lyre is strung,
Seraphic descant fills thy raptur'd mind:
On Camus' willows pale our harps are hung;
Our footsteps linger on his banks behind.
The chosen Lawgiver from Pisgah's hill,
His wond'ring eyes around in transport threw:
On earthly Canaan having gaz'd his fill,
To heavenly Canaan's glories quick withdrew.
So, nurst in sacred and in classic lore,
With varied science at its fountain fraught,
From human knowledge to th' exhaustless store
Of heaven he stole to taste the fuller draught.
What boots the beauty of the classic page,
And what philosophy's sublimer rule,
What all th' advances of maturing age,
If dies the wise man as departs the fool?
Master of Greece's thundering eloquence,
The force of Roman grace to him was known;
The well-turn'd period, join'd with manly sense:
Sage criticism mark'd him for her own.
Ah! what avails the power of harmony,
The poet's melody, the critic's skill!
The verse may live, yet must the maker die;
Such is stern Atropos's solemn will.
Sweet bard of Rhodes,[772] bright star of Egypt's court,
Whom Ptolemy's discerning bounty drew
To guard fair science in the learn'd resort,
Thy muse alone can pay the tribute due.
Thy muse, that paints Medea's frantic love,
And all the transports of the enamour'd maid,
Who dared each strongest obstacle remove,
Her reason and her art by love betray'd.
While hardy Jason ploughs old Ocean's plain,
First of the Greeks to tempt Barbarian seas,
With him we share the dangers of the main,
Nor dread the crash of the Symplegades.
Vain wish! thy deathless heroes should commend
Thy verse to fame, and bid it sweeter sound.
He who thy name's revival did intend,
In bloom of youth is buried under ground.[773]
So, nested on the rock, the parent dove
Sees down the cleft her callow offspring fall;
Full little may its chirping plaints behove;
She only hears, but cannot help its call.[774]
Like the fair swan of fame, the grateful muse
Assiduous tends on Lethe's barren bank,
To raise the name that envious time would lose,
Where many millions erst for ever sank.
While yet I wait, thou ever-honour'd shade,
Some better bard should the memorial rear,
The debt to friendship due by me be paid,
Weak in poetic fire, in friendship's zeal sincere.
We add the letter addressed by Cowper to his friend Mr. Unwin on this occasion.