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THE NINTH VOLUME.
CO W L E Y.
The Life of Cowley, notwithstanding the penury of English biography, has been written by Dr. Sprat, an author whose pregnancy of imagination and elegance of language have deservedly let him high in the ranks of literature; but his zeał of friendThip, or ambition of eloquence, has produced a funeral oration rather than a history: he has given the character, not the life, of Cowley; for he writes with folittle detail, that scarcelyany thing is distinctly known, but all is shewn confused and enlarged through the mist of panegyrick.
ABRAHAM COWLEY was born in the year one thoufand six hundred and eighteen. His father was a grocer, whose condition Dr. Sprat conceais under the general appellation of a citizen ; and, what would probably not have been less carefully suppressed, the omission of his name in the register of St. Dunstan's parish gives reason to fufpect that his father was a sectary. Whoever he was, he died before the birth of his son, and consequently left him to the care of his mother ; whom Wood repreVOL. IX.
sents as struggling earnestly to procure him a literary education, and who, as she lived to the age of eighty, had her solicitude rewarded by seeing her son eminent, and, I hope, by seeing him fortunate, and partaking his prosperity. We know at least, from Sprat's account, that he always acknowledged her care, and justly paid the dues of filial gratitude.
In the window of his mother's apartment lay Spenser's Fairy Queen ; in which he very early took delight to read, till, by feeling the charms of verse, he became, as he relates, irrecoverably a poet. Such are the accidents which, sometimes remembered, and perhaps sometimes forgotten, produce that particular designation of mind, and propensity for some certain science or employment, which is commonly called Genius. The true Genius is a mind of large general powers, accidentally determined to some particular direction. Sir Joshua Reynolds, the great Painter of the present age, had the first fondness for his art excited by the perufal of Richardson's treatise.
By his mother's solicitation he was admitted into Westminster-school, where he was soon distinguished. He was wont, says Sprat, to relate, “ That he had “ this defect in his memory at that time, that his
teachers never could bring it to retain the ordinary “ rules of grammar.”
This is an instance of the natural desire of man to propagate a wonder. It is surely very difficult to tell any thing as it was heard, when Sprat could not refrain from amplifying a commodious incident, though the book to which he prefixed his narrative contained its confutation. A memory admitting
some things, and rejecting others, an intellectual digestion that concocted the pulp of learning, but refused the husks, had the appearance of an inftinctive elegance, of a particular provision made by Nature for literary politeness. But in the author's own honest relation, the marvel vanishes : he
was, he says, such“ an enemy to all constraint, that his .“ master never could prevail on him to learn the “ rules without book.” He does not tell that he could not learn the rules ; but that, being able to perform his exercises without them, and being an "enemy to constraint,” he spared himself the labour.
Among the English poets, Cowley, Milton, and -Pope, might be said “ to lisp in numbers;" and have given such early proofs, not only of powers of language, but of comprehension of things, as to - more tardy minds seem scarcely credible. But of the learned puerilities of Cowley there is no doubt, fince a volume of his poems was not only written, but printed in his thirteenth year * ; containing, with other poetical compositions, “ The tragical “ History of Pyramus and Thisbe," written when he was ten years old ; and “ Constantia and Philetus,". written two years after.
While he was yet at school he produced a comedy called “ Love's Riddle,” though it was not published till he had been some time at Cambridge. This comedy is of the pastoral kind, which requires no acquaintance with the living world, and therefore
* This volume was not published before 1633, when Cowley was fifteen years old. Dr. Johnson, as well as former Biographers, seems to have been milled by the portrait of Cowley being by mistake marked with the age of thirteen years. R.