But misery still delights to trace
Its 'semblance in another's case.

No voice divine the storm allay'd,
No light propitious shone;
When, snatch'd from all effectual aid,

We perish'd, each alone;

But I beneath a rougher sea,

And 'whelm'd in deeper gulfs than he.

In August he translated this poem into Latin verse. In October he went with Miss Perowne and Mr. Johnson to survey a larger house in Dereham, which he preferred to their present residence, and in which the family were settled in the following December.

Though his corporeal strength was now evidently declining, the urgent persuasion of his kinsman induced him to amuse his mind with frequent composition. Between August and December, he wrote all the translations from various Latin and Greek epigrams, which the reader will find in our eighth volume.

In his new residence, he amused himself with translating a few fables of Gay's into Latin verse. The fable which he used to recite when a child— "The Hare and many Friends"-became one of his latest amusements.

These Latin fables were all written in January 1800. Towards the end of that month, Hayley requested him to new-model a passage in his Homer, relating to the curious monument of ancient sculpture, so gracefully described by Homer, called the Cretan Dance. This being the last effort of

his pen, and the passage being interesting, as a representation of ancient manners, we here insert it.

To these the glorious artist added next
A varied dance, resembling that of old
In Crete's broad isle, by Dædalus, compos'd
For bright-hair'd Ariadne. There the youths
And youth-alluring maidens, hand in hand,
Danc'd jocund, ev'ry maiden neat attir'd
In finest linen, and the youths in vests
Well-woven, glossy as the glaze of oil.
These all wore garlands, and bright falchions those,
Of burnish'd gold, in silver trappings hung;—
They, with well-tutor❜d step, now, nimbly ran
The circle, swift, as when, before his wheel
Seated, the potter twirls it with both hands
For trial of its speed; now, crossing quick
They pass'd at once into each other's place
A circling crowd survey'd the lovely dance,
Delighted; two, the leading pair, their head
With graceful inclination bowing oft,

Pass'd swift between them, and began the song.

See Cowper's Version, Book xviii.

On the very day that this endearing mark of his kindness reached Hayley, a dropsical appearance in his legs induced Mr. Johnson to have recourse to fresh medical assistance. Cowper was with great difficulty persuaded to take the remedies prescribed, and to try the exercise of a post-chaise, an exercise which he could not bear beyond the twenty-second of February.

In March, when his decline became more and more visible, he was visited by Mr. Rose. He hardly expressed any pleasure on the arrival of a

friend whom he had so long and so tenderly regarded, yet he showed evident signs of regret at his departure, on the sixth of April.

Ad

The illness and impending death of his talented son precluded Hayley from sharing with Mr. Rose in these last marks of affectionate attention towards the man, whose genius and virtues they had once contemplated together, with mutual veneration and delight; whose approaching dissolution they felt, not only as an irreparable loss to themselves, but as a national misfortune. On the nineteenth of April, Dr. Johnson remarks, the weakness of this truly pitiable sufferer had so much increased, that his kinsman apprehended his death to be near. verting, therefore, to the affliction, as well of body as of mind, which his beloved inmate was then enduring, he ventured to speak of his approaching dissolution as the signal of his deliverance from both these miseries. After a pause of a few moments, which was less interrupted by the objections of his desponding relative than he had dared to hope, he proceeded to an observation more consolatory still; namely, that, in the world to which he was hastening, a merciful Redeemer had prepared unspeakable happiness for all his childrenand therefore for him. To the first part of this sentence, he had listened with composure, but the concluding words were no sooner uttered, than his passionately expressed entreaties, that his companion would desist from any further observations of a similar kind, clearly proved that, though it was on the eve of being invested with angelic

light, the darkness of delusion still veiled his spirit.*

On Sunday, the twentieth, he seemed a little revived.

On Monday he appeared dying, but recovered so much as to eat a slight dinner.

Tuesday and Wednesday he grew apparently weaker every hour.

On Thursday he sat up as usual in the evening.

In the course of the night, when exceedingly exhausted, Miss Perowne offered him some refreshment. He rejected it with these words, the very last that he was heard to utter, "What can it signify?"

Dr. Johnson closes the affecting account in the following words.

"At five in the morning of Friday 25th, a deadly change in his features was observed to take place. He remained in an insensible state

from that time till about five minutes before five in the afternoon, when he ceased to breathe. And in so mild and gentle a manner did his spirit take its flight, that though the writer of this Memoir, his medical attendant Mr. Woods, and three other persons, were standing at the foot and side of the bed, with their eyes fixed upon his dying countenance, the precise moment of his departure was unobserved by any."

From this mournful period, till the features of his deceased friend were closed from his view, the expression which the kinsman of Cowper observed

* Sketch of the Life of Cowper, by Dr. Johnson.

in them, and which he was affectionately delighted to suppose "an index of the last thoughts and enjoyments of his soul, in its gradual escape from the depths of despondence, was that of calmness and composure, mingled, as it were, with holy surprise."

He was buried in St. Edmund's Chapel, in the Church of East Dereham, on Saturday, May 2nd, attended by several of his relations.

He died intestate. His affectionate relative, Lady Hesketh, fulfilled the office of his administratrix, and raised a marble tablet to his memory, where his ashes repose, with the following inscription from the pen of Hayley.

Ye, who with warmth the public triumph feel
Of talents, dignified by sacred zeal,

Here, to devotion's bard devoutly just,

Pay your fond tribute due to Cowper's dust!
England, exulting in his spotless fame,

Ranks with her dearest sons his favourite name.
Sense, fancy, wit, suffice not all to raise
So clear a title to affection's praise;
His highest honours to the heart belong;
His virtues form'd the magic of his song.