here; those who have their own honour, the honour of their ancestors and of their posterity to guard; and 60 who will justify, as they have always justified, that provision in the constitution by which justice is made an hereditary office. My lords, we have here a new nobility, who have risen 65 and exalted themselves by various merits, by great military services, which have extended the fame of this country from the rising to the setting sun; we have those who, by 70 various civil merits and various civil talents, have been exalted to a situation which they well deserve, and in which they will justify the favour of their sovereign and the good opinion 75 of their fellow-subjects, and make them rejoice to see those virtuous characters, that were the other day upon a level with them, now exalted above them in rank, but feeling with 80 them in sympathy what they felt in common with them before. We have persons exalted from the practice of the law, from the place in which they administered high, though sub85 ordinate justice, to a seat here, to enlighten with their knowledge, and to strengthen with their votes, those principles which have distinguished the courts in which they have presided. 90 My lords, you have here also the lights of our religion: you have the bishops of England. My lords, you have that true image of the primitive Church in its ancient form, in its 95 ancient ordinances, purified from the superstitions and the vices which a long succession of ages will bring upon the best institutions. You have the representatives of that religion 100 which says that their God is love, that the very vital spirit of their institution is charity; a religion which so much hates oppression, that, when the God whom we adore appeared 105 in human form, he did not appear in a form of greatness and majesty, but in sympathy with the lowest of the people, and thereby made it a firm and ruling principle, that their welfare was the object of all govern- 110 ment, since the person who was the Master of Nature chose to appear himself in a subordinate situation. These are the considerations which influence them, which animate them, 115 and will animate them, against all oppression; knowing that He, who is called first among them, and first among us all, both of the flock that is fed and of those who feed it, 120 made himself 'the servant of all'. My lords, these are the securities which we have in all the constituent parts of the body of this house. We know them, we reckon, we rest upon 125 them, and commit safely the interests of India and of humanity into your hands. Therefore, it is with confidence that, ordered by the Commons, I impeach Warren Hastings, Esquire, of high crimes and misde meanours. 130 I impeach him in the name of the Commons of Great Britain in 135 parliament assembled, whose parliamentary trust he has betrayed. I impeach him in the name of all the Commons (i. e. the people) of Great Britain, whose national 140 character he has dishonoured. I impeach him in the name of the people of India, whose laws, rights, and liberties he has subverted, whose properties he has destroyed, whose 145 country he has laid waste and desolate. I impeach him in the name and by virtue of those eternal laws of justice which he has violated. I impeach him in the name of 150 human nature itself, which he has cruelly outraged and oppressed, in both sexes, in every age, rank, situation, and condition of life. WILLIAM COWPER. WILLIAM COWPER (1731-1800), de scended from a gentle family, was born at his father's rectory at Great Berkhampstead in Hertfordshire. He studied law at the Middle Temple, London, and for several years held the sinecure appointment of Commissioner of Bankrupts (1759—1765). But he early showed a morbid state of mind, which, under the strain of an impending examination, developed into insanity of a religious colouring. Though restored from this attack by 18 months of judicious treatment in a private asylum, he had to give up all thoughts of a public career. His family, therefore, subscribed a small annual sum, which enabled him to live in quiet retirement and to devote himself exclusively to poetry. He first settled at Huntingdon (1765), where he made the acquaintance of a pious clergyman's wife, Mrs. Mary Unwin, who became a lifelong friend and companion to him. On the death of Mr. Unwin, he removed with her to the small country-town of Olney, in Buckinghamshire, where he remained from 1767-1786. There he came under the influence of the Rev. John Newton, a stern adherent of Evangelicalism, who induced him to write church hymns, which appeared in Newton's Olney Hymns (1779). An engagement to Mrs. Unwin was broken off by a fresh attack of insanity in 1773, from which he only slowly recovered. But it was followed by a period of good health and great literary activity, especially after he had found another congenial friend in the lively and bright Lady Austen, who, for some time, was their neighbour at Olney. Accordingly most of his poetry was written between 1780 and 1787. Unfortunately, in 1787, a relapse of his malady came on, from which he never fully recovered, so that during the remaining part of his life, which he spent with Mrs. Unwin at Weston (1786-1795) and East Dereham (1795-1800), he only composed a few occasional poems, and finished his translation of Homer (1791). Not till he was fifty years old, did Cowper publish his first volume of Poems (1782), which was mainly made up of eight lengthy moral satires, and therefore attracted little notice, though it included such dainty little pieces as the debate between The Lily and the Rose, the fable of The Nightingale and Glow-worm, and the fine ode on Boadicea. A second volume followed in 1785, which contained his greatest work, The Task, and his most popular one, the merry ballad of John Gilpin (previously printed anonymously in The Public Advertiser for November 1782). Both these poems were inspired by Lady Austen: for, to relieve his despondency, she had told him the story of the memorable ride of John Gilpin, and it was she, too, who suggested the sofa, with which The Task opens, as a subject to write upon, and, by setting him this task, gave origin to the title of the poem. The Task is a long didactic blank-verse poem in six books, which has no regular plan, but describes the author's walks in the country round Olney, and tells us what he saw and thought on his walks. It thus came to contain descriptions of nature and domestic happiness mixed up with satires on the follies of the time and disquisitions on social questions. The whole poem is slightly tinctured with methodistical asceticism, and pervaded by humanitarian and moral tendencies. As a poet of natural description Cowper is an intermediary of Thomson and Wordsworth, and is remarkable for his minute and genuine observation and his clear and faithful painting. All his poems are marked by a graceful ease and simplicity of expression, which also makes him one of the best English letter-writers. JOHN GILPIN. THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN, SHEWING HOW HE WENT FARTHER John Gilpin was a citizen Of credit and renown; A train-band captain eke was he [1782] John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, 8 84 88 92 96 100 104 108 112 116 120 But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat. So, 'Fair and softly!' John he cried, But John he cried in vain; That trot became a gallop soon In spite of curb and rein. So stooping down, as needs he must Who cannot sit upright, He grasp'd the mane with both his hands And eke with all his might. His horse, who never in that sort Had handled been before, What thing upon his back had got Did wonder more and more. Away went Gilpin, neck or nought; Away went hat and wig; He little dreamt when he set out And now as he went bowing down Down ran the wine into the road, Most piteous to be seen, Which made his horse's flanks to smoke As they had basted been. But still he seem'd to carry weight, With leathern girdle brac'd; For all might see the bottle-necks Still dangling at his waist. Thus all through merry Islington These gambols he did play, And 'till he came unto the wash Of Edmonton so gay. And there he threw the wash about The wind did blow, the cloak did fly At Edmonton his loving wife Like streamer long and gay, "Till, loop and button failing both, At last it flew away. From the balcony spied Her tender husband, wond'ring much To see how he did ride. 124 128 132 136 140 144 148 152 156 160 164 168 172 176 180 184 188 192 196 200 Whence strait he came with hat and wig, He held them up, and in his turn Thus show'd his ready wit, 'My head is twice as big as yours, They therefore needs must fit. 'But let me scrape the dirt away That hangs upon your face; And stop and eat, for well you may Be in a hungry case.' Said John 'It is my wedding-day, And all the world would stare, If wife should dine at Edmonton, And I should dine at Ware.' So turning to his horse, he said, 'I am in haste to dine; "Twas for your pleasure you came here, You shall go back for mine.' Went post-boy at his heels, Thus seeing Gilpin fly, They rais'd the hue and cry: 236 240 |