SIR JOHN DENHAM was born in Dublin, in 1615, his father being then Chief Baron of the Irish Exchequer. He left Ireland in his infancy-his father having been appointed to a similar office in England-and received his education in London until he entered a gentleman commoner at Trinity College, Oxford. Here and afterwards at Lincoln's Inn he was looked upon as "a dreaming young man given more to cards and dice than to study." Gaming was his besetting sin, and although to appease the wrath of his father, he wrote and printed an essay to prove its pernicious tendency, he did not relinquish the practice, but irretrievably injured his patrimony as soon as he had the means of resorting to it. But as "the strawberry grows underneath the nettle," the “dreaming young man" had "obscured his contemplation Under the veil of wildness." In 1641, he published "the Sophy," a Tragedy, which came so suddenly to prove his claim to genius of the highest order, that Waller is said to have remarked of the writer "that he had broken out like the Irish rebellion, three score thousand strong when no person suspected it: " "The courses of his youth promised it not." He was soon afterwards made Governor of Farnham Castle, for the king, but resigned his command and joined his Majesty at Oxford, where, in 1643, he published Cooper's Hill-the poem by which his fame has been mainly preserved. During the civil wars, he took a very active part-and was an uncompromising loyalist. Having been discovered in secret correspondence with Cowley, he saved his life by flight, joined Charles the Second in exile, and on the restoration - his patrimonial estates having been sequestrated by the Parliament-obtained the office of Surveyor of the King's Buildings, and was dignified with the order of the Bath. The latter days of his life were clouded by an unhappy marriage, which led to a temporary loss of reason. In Grammont's Memoirs, several particulars connected with these unfortunate events are related - and if the scandal-courtier is to be believed, they are but little to the credit of the Poet. He died in March, 1668; and was buried in Westminster Abbey. Denham is deservedly classed among the fathers of English Poetry. His Cooper's Hill is one of the earliest attempts to associate local description with historical and reflective matter-to combine reality with fancy-to clothe an ordinary object in the rich garb of imagination. It is to this poem he is indebted for his high rank as an original writer. It may almost be described by the two lines which he himself applies to the Thames: "Though deep yet clear; though gentle yet not dull, Cooper's Hill was dedicated to Charles the First. And the author relates, in his dedication, that when attending his Majesty, while his person was in the hands of the army, the king saw, by chance, some lines written by the Poet, and advised him to write no more, "alleging that when men are young, and have little else to do, they might vent the overflowings of their fancy that way; but when they were thought fit for more serious employments, if they still persisted in that course, it would look as if they minded not the way to any better!" Cooper's Hill obtained rapid and extensive popularity. It was first printed "on one sheet and a half in 4to.;" several other editions of it appeared during the life-time of the writer. Dryden speaking of it, says, "it is a poem which for majesty of the style, is, and ever will be, the exact standard of good writing." Denham's "strength" was also lauded by Pope; and he has maintained his popularity even to our own time. His attempt at a metrical version of the Psalms of David was a total failure. His Lines on the Death of Cowley, written but a short time before his own death, is one of the best of his productions. He published various translations; the most remarkable of which is, "Cato Major of Old Age." His Tragedy of "The Sophy" was originally acted at "the private house in Blackfriars," and was published in 1642. My eye descending from the Hill, surveys Hasting to pay his tribute to the sea, Though with those streams he no resemblance hold, K K Nor with a sudden and impetuous wave, The mower's hopes, or mock the ploughman's toil; So that to us no thing, no place, is strange, Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull; While he the bottom, not his face, had seen. But his proud head the airy mountain hides * * UPON THE GAME OF CHESS. A TABLET stood of that abstersive tree Where Æthiop's swarthy bird did build her nest, Drawn from the jaws of Afric's prudent beast. And styl'd by modern Lombards Pensive Chess. Her Amazons his Trojans taught this sport, ABRAHAM COWLEY, the posthumous son of a grocer in London, was born in 1618. His mother, by her exertions, procured for him a classical education at Westminster School. She lived to see him loved, honoured, and great, and—it is pleasant to addgrateful. Genius in Cowley was of early and rapid growth. At the age of fifteen, he published a volume entitled "Poetical Blossoms"-which he afterwards described as " commendable extravagancies" in a boy. He obtained a scholarship at Trinity College, Cambridge, in 1636, and there took his degree; but was ejected thence by the Parliament, and removed to Oxford. Shortly afterwards, he followed Queen Henrietta to Paris, as secretary to the Earl of St. Albans; and was employed at the court of the Exiles in the most confidential capacity. In 1656 he returned to England, and was immediately arrested as a suspected spy. He submitted quietly, however, to the dominion of the Protector; and thus exposed himself to the charge of disloyalty;-a charge which was refuted by the whole tenor of his life. At the restoration, his claims upon the ungrateful monarch were not acknowledged; on applying for the long-promised mastership of the Savoy, he was coolly told that "his pardon was his reward." "He lost the place," says Wood, "by certain persons, enemies of the muses." Certain friends of the muses, however, procured for him the lease of a farm at Chertsey, held under the queen, and the great object of his desires-solitude-was attained. Thus after having "lived in the presence of princes, and familiarly converst with greatness in all its degrees," he sought and found a more enviable condition, where "some few friends and books, a cheerful heart, and innocent conscience, were his constant companions." He died at Chertsey, on the 28th July, 1667, and was interred in Westminster Abbey; a throng of nobles followed him to his grave, and the king, who had deserted him, is reported to have said, that "Mr. Cowley had not left a better man behind him in England." The poetical works of Cowley consist, for the most part, of short pieces. His only production of any length is "Davideis, or, the Troubles of David." It is unfinished; and its defects are more numerous and prominent than its merits. "In it he may seem like one of the miracles he there adorns-a boy attempting Goliah." His "Book of Plants" is but an Essay in verse. The "Mistress" comprises a series of eighty-four poems-in every variety of style. Many of them are of exceeding beauty; yet, however elegant and refined, they leave the reader under the conviction that his love was but lip-service; to obtain for him-according to his own quaint expression" as a poet the freedom of his company." His "anacreontics" have far more HEART-and are equally perfect as compositions. Cowley was one of those fortunate bards who obtain fame and honour during life. His learning was deep, his reading extensive, his acquaintance with mankind large. "To him," says Denham, in his famous Elegy "To him no author was unknown, Yet what he wrote was all his own." His career was sullied by no vice; he was loyal without being servile, and at once modest, independent, and sincere. His character is thus eloquently drawn by his friend and biographer, Dr. Sprat:-"He governed his passions with great moderation: his virtues were never troublesome or uneasie to any; whatever he disliked in others, he only corrected it by the silent reproof of a better practice." The body of Cowley was removed by water, from Chertsey to Westminster, "accompanied," according to his biographers, "by a great number of persons of the most eminent quality." Pope, in allusion to it, says "What tears the river shed When the sad pomp along his banks was led !" Of this circumstance the Artist has availed himself as forming an interesting subject for his pencil. It is recorded, that Cowley became a poet in consequence of reading the Fairy Queen, which chance threw in his way, while yet a child In allusion to this circumstance, Dr. Johnson gave his remarkable definition of genius :-"A mind of large general powers, accidentally determined to some particular direction." |