1595. Torquatus Tasso, the poet, died at Rome. He was born, in 1544, at
Sorrento in Naples, wrote verses at nine years of age, became a student
at law, and composed the “Rinaldo” at seventeen. Although his celebrated
epic “Jerusalem Delivered” is that whereon his poetical fame is chiefly
grounded, yet his “Aminta,” and other pieces are rich in fancy and
beautiful in style; he was also excellent in prose. The most remarkable
feature in his character was a hopeless passion for the princess
Eleanora, sister of the duke of Ferrara, that he conceived early in
life, and nourished till his death.
1800. William Cowper, the poet, died at Dereham, in Norfolk; he was born
November, 26, 1731, at Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire. When a child he
was shy and diffident. “His own forcible expression,” says Hayley,
“represented him at Westminster-school as not daring to raise his eye
above the shoe-buckle of the elder boys, who were too apt to tyrannize
over his gentle spirit.” Fear of personal publicity increased with his
years. At thirty-one it was necessary that he should appear at the bar
of the House of Lords, to entitle himself to the appointment of clerk of
the journals which had been obtained for him, he was incapable of the
effort, his terror overwhelmed his reason, and he was subjected to
confinement till his faculties recovered. Morbid glooms and horrors of
the imagination clouded his mind throughout life, and he more than once
attempted self-destruction. When not subjected to these dreadful
affections he was cheerful and amiable. Innocence of heart and extreme
modesty were the most remarkable features in his character. His poetry
is in the hands of every body; its popularity is the best praise of its
high merits. He was enabled by his fortune to indulge his love of
retirement, surrounded by a few friends whom he ardently loved. He
speaks of himself, in a letter to Mr. Park, so as to exemplify his usual
habits--“From the age of twenty to thirty-three I was occupied, or ought
to have been, in the study of the law; from thirty-three to sixty I have
spent my time in the country, where my reading has been only an apology
for idleness, and where, when I had not either a magazine or a review, I
was sometimes a carpenter, at others a birdcage maker, or a gardener, or
a drawer of landscapes. At fifty years of age I commenced an author:--it
is a whim that has served me longest and best, and will probably be my
last.” A little volume entitled the “Rural Walks of Cowper,” illustrates
his attachment to the country, by a series of fifteen views from
drawings made and engraved by Mr. James Storer; they exemplify scenery
in Cowper’s poems, with descriptive sketches; it is an agreeable
assistant to every one who desires to know something of the places
wherein the poet delighted to ramble or meditate. There is a natural
desire to become acquainted with the countenance of a man whose writings
we love or admire, and the spots that were associated with his feelings
and genius. Who can read Cowper’s letter to his friend Hill, descriptive
of his summer-house, without wishing to walk into it? “I write in a nook
that I call my boudoir; it is a summer-house not bigger than a sedan
chair; the door of it opens into the garden that is now crowded with
pinks, roses, and honeysuckles, and the window into my neighbour’s
orchard. It formerly served an apothecary as a smoking-room; at present,
however, it is dedicated to sublimer uses; here I write all that I write
in summer time, whether to my friends or to the public. It is secure
from all noise, and a refuge from all intrusion.” The present engraving
of it is taken by Mr. Storer’s permission from his design made on the
spot.
It was here, perhaps, that Cowper wrote his poem on a nightingale, that
sung with a thorn in her breast, an affecting allusion to the state of
his own feelings. There is another of his productions on the same “sweet
bird,” whom all poets wait on, which is subjoined by way of conclusion
to this brief notice of a bard honoured for his talents, and revered for
his love of virtue.