Weekly standard. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1858-1865, 1865-02-01
S>flIIi- :I}}0tcklq 5tallaar1,
CoWPEH,s POEM ON THE Loss OF THE
ROYAL. {: gilGsGE.

lie, at LilG tllHt Wien liiaL Scttio" SNoi'i
by which his declining years were so bit
,ery oppressed, had taken hold upon him,
that the poem referred to in the heading
OF this story was written. The circum-
stances attending its composition present
one of the most curious and interesting OF
psychological phenomena that we have
ever heard of, or that can well be ilnagln-
cd,,namey. that mind-apparently I'M
conscious of one set of impressions, wheth-
or by an effort of will or otherwise-may
I've reused to intense action by another set
of impressions, totally distinct from them,
rs far as actual occurrence is concerned.
The dark season of Cowper's calamity
was at its height. The morning Of the day
ON which the incidents about t. be related
took place, was dreary, cold, and dull. A
chilling mist, which filled the air, was
succeeded by DRILLING rain, making all
nature both cherries and dismal. Deep
ly miserable, Cowper was hastily pacing
bis room backwards and forwards, in
state of extreme agitation and distress, the
darkness and gloolniness without augment
ING that deeper darkness and gloom within
him, by which his mind was SO heavily
weighed down. He was hnmming to
himself the air of llandePs March IN Scl-
pio, his steps keeping time to the music,
while his thoughts were no doubt busly
occupied in brooding over his own utter
wretchedness.
Suddenly his door flew open, and in
rushed lady, holding in her land an
open newspaper, in which she had Just
been reading the account OF The loss OF the
Royal George. Greatly excited at the
melancholy news, she exclaimed: " O Mr..
Ccwper! have You heard of the dreadful
accident which has happened? Tho Royal
George has gone down into the sea with
eight hundred men on board, and every
soul has perished!" Cowper, wrapped up
in his own reflections, paid no attention
either to Her or her story, but continued
to walk on backwards and forwards, hum
ing the air OF the March IN Scipio, and
keeping time to the music with his feet.
Who this lady was, we are not able to
state It is not likely that she was one of
those who were intimately acquainted
with the state of Cowper's mind at that
time, and who with such UNMARRIED tender
ness were particularly cautious never to
suffer any news to reach him which they
thought might excite him, or increase that
melancholy they so anxiously endeavored
to soothe and alleviate.
The catastrophe, as may we'll be imagin-
ed, appeared to her very fearful one, and
hence she wondered at his not being NOV
ed by it. Thinking that perhaps he had
not heard what she had told him, she re-
peated the account in fuller detail, dwell
ing with greater emphasis on the fact that
Kempenfelt and his whole crew of eight
hundred men had entirely persisted. Still
Cowper took not the least notice, only he
paced his room more rapidly, hummed his
air more loudly, and kept time to the
march with his feet more vigorously
Hence she concluded that he was deter
mined not to listen to her, and therefore
left the room. Nevertheless, though Cow
per had manifested no sign that the mel
ancholy news had produced any impress
sion on him, be was deeply affected. The
story had, as the sequel will show, reach
ed his mind, but it had not yet touched
his heart. Though he abounded to over
flowing with sympathy for the distress of
others, so much was he absorbed in his
own misery, that he was entirely carried
away for the time by it, His mind was
struggling for very existence; he himself
was in agony, just on the verge of des-
pair. At that instant the bell of the church
close by began to toll for a funeral. The
unexpected sound, and the solemnity of the
associations connected with it, wrought a
sudden change in him. Each stroke, as it
doomed forth, was to him like the thrust
OF a sword. The chord that united him
to his fellow-man was now reached, and
vibrated Ao the touch. His heart was
ready to burst; full to overlooking with
his own misery; full of the air from Han
deps March, which'he had been hummi1. @
to himself to relieve that misery; full OF
the dreadful loss which he had heard-for
now he knew every word of it, so through
ly had it become fixed on his mind: and,
lastly, full Of grief for the eight hundred
brave men, most Of them warriors, who
had thus suddenly persisted without mo-
ments warning, not on the stormy ocean,
not on foreign shore, not by horrors OF
war, but in harbor, at home, while their
snip was at anchor, and they all busily
employed at their ordinary work in time
OF peace. Housed to state of intense
excitement, he could restrain himself no
longer, but seized pen, rushed to the
replace, grasped the belI-rope, and held
1t ,hrmy, as if 10 stop the toIling without,
Which appeared to cause him such unit.
terab!e anguish; and in that state. with
the rope in one hand and the pen in the
other, he gave vent to his feelings in these
deeply solemn and exquisite lines:
"Toll for the brave
The brave that are no more!
All sunk beneath the wave
Fast by their native shore!
Eight hundred of the brave,
Whose course well was tried
Had made the vessel heel,
And laid her on her side
A land breeze shook the shrouds