Time made thee what thou wast, king of the woods;
And Time hath made thee what thou art—a cave
For owls to roost in! Once thy spreading boughs
O'erhung the champaign: and the numerous flocks,
That graz'd it, stood beneath that ample cope
Uncrowded, yet safe-sheltered from the storm.
No flock frequents thee now.
While thus through all the stages thou hast push'd
Of treeship—first a seedling, hid in grass;
Then twig; then sapling; and as cent'ry roll'd
Slow after century, a giant bulk
Of girth enormous, with moss-cushion'd root
Upheav'd above the soil, and sides imboss'd
With prominent wens globose—till, at the last,
The rottenness which time is charg'd to inflict
On other mighty ones found also thee.
Time was, when, settling on thy leaf, a fly
Could shake thee to the root—and time has been
When tempests could not.[782]
With these acknowledged claims to popular favour, it is pleasing to reflect on the singular moderation of Cowper amidst the snares of literary fame. His motives seem to have been pure and simple, and his main design to elevate the character of the age, and to glorify God. He was not insensible to the value of applause, when conferred by a liberal and powerful mind, but even in this instance it was a subdued and chastened feeling. A more pleasing evidence could not be adduced than when Hayley, in one of his visits to Weston, brought a recent newspaper containing a speech of Mr. Fox, in which that distinguished orator had quoted the following impressive verses on the Bastille, in the House of Commons.
Ye horrid tow'rs, the abode of broken hearts:
Ye dungeons, and ye cages of despair,
That monarchs have supplied from age to age
With music, such as suits their sov'reign ears,
The sighs and groans of miserable men!
There's not an English heart that would not leap,
To hear that ye were fall'n at last; to know,
That e'en our enemies, so oft employ'd
In forging chains for us, themselves were free.[783]
Mrs. Unwin discovered marks of vivid satisfaction, Cowper smiled, and was silent.[784]
We have mentioned how little Cowper was elated by praise. We shall now state how much he was depressed by unjust censure. His first volume of poems had been severely criticised by the Analytical Review. His feelings are recorded in the following (hitherto unpublished) letter to John Thornton, Esq.
Olney, May 21, 1782.
Dear Sir,—You have my sincere thanks for your obliging communication, both of my book to Dr. Franklin, and of his opinion of it to me. Some of the periodical critics, I understand have spoken of it with contempt enough; but, while gentlemen of taste and candour have more favourable thoughts of it, I see reason to be less concerned than I have been about their judgment, hastily framed perhaps, and certainly not without prejudice against the subjects of which it treats.
Your friendly intimation of the Doctor's sentiments reached me very seasonably, just when, in a fit of despondence, to which no man is naturally more inclined, I had begun to regret the publication of it, and had consequently resolved to write no more. For if a man has the fortune to please none but his friends and their connexions, he has reason enough to conclude that he is indebted for the measure of success he meets with, not to the real value of his book, but to the partiality of the few that approve it. But I now feel myself differently affected towards my favourite employment; for which sudden change in my sentiments I may thank you and your correspondent in France, his entire unacquaintedness with me, a man whom he never saw, nor will see, his character as a man of sense and condition, and his acknowledged merit as an ingenious and elegant writer, and especially his having arrived at an age when men are not to be pleased they know not why, are so many circumstances that give a value to his commendations, and make them the most flattering a poor poet could receive, quite out of conceit with himself, and quite out of heart with his occupations.
If you think it worth your while, when you write next to the Doctor, to inform him how much he has encouraged me by his approbation, and to add my respects to him, you will oblige me still further; for next to the pleasure it would afford me to hear that it has been useful to any, I cannot have a greater, so far as my volume is in question, than to hear that it has pleased the judicious.