66 unblameable, which had been tried in bufinefs "of the highest confequence, and practifed in the "hazardous fecrets of courts and cabinets, and yet there can nothing difgraceful be produced "against it, but only the error of one paragraph, and fingle metaphor." About the year 1662, his two Books of Plants were publifhed, to which he added afterwards four more, and all thefe together, with his Latin poems, were printed in London, 1678; his Books on Plants was written during his refidence in England, in the time of the ufurpation, the better to distinguish his real intention, by the ftudy of phyfic, to which he applied. It appears by Wood's Fafti Oxon. that our poet was created Dr. of Phyfic at Oxford, December 2, 1657, by virtue of a mandamus from the then government. After the King's restoration, Mr. Cowley, being then paft the 40th year of his age, the greatest part of which had been spent in a various and tempeftuous condition, refolved to pafs the remainder of his life in a studious retirement: In a letter to one of his friends, he' talks of making a voyage to America, not from a view of accumulating wealth, but there to chufe a habitation, and fhut himfelf up from the busy world for ever. This fcheme was wildly romantic, and difcovered fome degree of vanity in the author; for Mr. Cowley needed but retire a few iniles out of town, and ceafe from appearing abroad, and he might have been fufficiently fecured against the intrufion of company, nor was he of fo much confequence as to be forced from his retirement; but this vifionary scheme could not be carr.ed into execution, by means of Mr. Cowley's' want of money, for he had never been much on the road of gain. Upon the fettlement of the peace of the nation, he obtained a competent eftate, by the favour of his principal patrons, the duke of Buck-1 ingham, and the earl of St. Albans. Thus fur nished for a retreat, he spent the last feven or eight years of his life in his beloved obfcurity, and poffeffed (fays Sprat) that folitude, which from his very childhood he fo paffionately defired. This great poet, and worthy man, died at a house called the Porch-houfe, towards the Weft end of the town of Chertsey in Surry, July 28, 1667, in the 49th year of his age. His folitude, from the very beginning, had never agreed fo well with the conftitution of his body, as his mind: out of hafte, to abandon the tumult of the city, he had not prepared a healthful fituation in the country, as he might have done, had he been more deliberate in his choice of this, he foon began to find the inconvenience at Barn-elms, where he was afflicted with a dangerous and lingring fever. Shortly after his removal to Chertfey, he fell into another confuming difeafe having languifhed under this for fome months, he feemed to be pretty well cured of its ill fymptoms, but in the heat of the fummer, by ftaying too long amongst his labourers in the meadows, he was taken with a violent defluxion, and ftoppage in his breaft and throat; this he neglected, as an ordinary cold, and refused to fend for his ufual phyficians, 'till it was paft all remedy, and fo in the end, after a fortnight's fickness, it proved mortal to him. He was buried in Westminster Abbey, the 34 of Auguft following, near the afhes of Chaucer and Spenfer. King Charles II, was pleased to bestow upon him the best character, when, upon the news of his death, his Majesty declared, that Mr. Cowley had not left a better man behind him in England. A monument was erected to his memory in May 1675, by George, duke of Buckingham, with a Latin infcription, written by Dr. Sprat, afterwards lord bishop of Rochester. Befides Mr. Cowley's works already mentioned, we have, by the fame hand, A Propofition for the ad- : vancement of Experimental Philofophy: A Difcourfe," by way of Vifion, concerning the Government of Oliver Cromwel, and several Difcourfes, by way of Effays, in Profe and Verfe. Mr. Cowley had defigned a Difcourfe on Stile, and a Review of the Principles of the Primitive Chriftian Church, but was prevented by death. In Mr. Dryden's Mifcellany Poems, we find a poem on the Civil War, faid to be written by our author, but not extant in any edition of his works: Dr. Sprat mentions, as very excellent in their kind, Mr. Cowley's Letters to his private friends, none of which were published. As a poet, Mr. Cowley has had tribute paid him from the greatest names in all knowledge, Dryden, Addifon, Sir John Denham, and Pope. He is blamed for a redundance of wit, and roughnefs of verfification, but is allowed to have poffeffed a fine understanding, great reading, and a variety of genius. Let us fee how Mr. Addison characterizes him in his Account of the great English Poets. Great Cowley then (a mighty genius) wrote, Thy fault is only wit in its excefs, But wit like thine, in any fhape will please. In his public capacity, he preferved an inviolable honour and loyalty, and exerted great activity, with difcernment in private life, he was eafy of accels, gentle, polite, and modeft; none but his intimate friends ever difcovered, by his difcourfe, that he was a great poet; he was generous in his difpofition, temperate in his life, devout and pious in his religion, a warm friend, and a focial companion. Such is the character of the great Mr. Cowley, who deferves the highest gratitude from pofterity, as well for his public as private conduct. He never proftituted his mufe to the purpofes of lewdnefs and folly, and it is with pleafure we can except him from the general, and too just, charge brought against the poets, That they have abilities to do the greatest service, and by misdirecting them, too frequently fawn the harlot face of loofe indulgence, and by dreffing up pleasure in an elegant attire, procure votaries to her altar, who pay too dear for gazing at the shewy phantom by lofs of their virtue. It is no compliment to the tafte of the prefent age, that the works of Mr. Cowley are falling into difefteem; they certainly contain more wit, and good fenfe, than the works of many other poets, whom it is now fashionable to read; that kind of poetry, which is known by the name of Light, he fucceeds beyond any of his cotemporaries, or fucceffors; no love verfes, in our lan guage, have fo much true wit, and expreffive tendernefs, as Cowley's Miftrefs, which is indeed perfect in its kind. What Mr. Addison observes, is certainly true,He more had pleafed us, had he pleafed us lefs. He had a foul too full, an imagination too fertile to be reftrained, and becaufe he has more wit than any other poet, an ordinary reader is fomehow difpofed to think he had lefs. In the particular of wit, none but Shakespear ever exceeded Cowley, and he was certainly as cultivated a scholar, as a great natural genius. In that kind of poetry which is grave, and demands extenfive thinking, no poet has a right to be compared D 4 with with Cowley: Pope and Dryden, who are as remarkable for a force of thinking, as elegance of poetry, are yet inferior to him; there are more ideas in one of Cowley's pindaric odes, than in any piece of equal length by thofe two great genius's St. Cæcilia's ode excepted) and his pindaric odes being now neglected, can proceed from no o:her cause, than that they demand too much attention for a common reader, and contain fentiments fo fublimely noble, as not to be comprehended by a vulgar mind; but to thofe who think, and are accuftomed to contemplation, they appear great and ravishing. In order to illuftrate this, we fhall quote fpecimens in both kinds of poetry; the first taken from his Miftrefs called Beauty, the other is a Hymn to Light, both of which, are fo excellent in their kind, that whoever reads them without rapture, may be well affured, that he has no poetry in his foul, and is infenfible to the flow of numbers, and the charms of sense. BEAUTY. I. Beauty, thou wild fantastic ape, Who doft in ev'ry country change thy fhape! Here black, there brown, here tawny, and there white; Thou flatt'rer which compli'ft with every fight! Thou Babel which confound'ft the eye With unintelligible variety! Who haft no certain what nor where, But vary'ft ftill, and doft thy felf declare Inconftant, as thy fhe-profeffors are. II. Beauty, love's fcene and masquerade, So gay by well-plac'd lights, and distance made; Falfe |