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mandment, therefore, enjoins it; the prophets have because it is so. He means to do his duty, and by also enforced it; and in many instances, both doing it he earns his wages. The two rectories scriptural and modern, the breach of it has been being contiguous to each other, and following punished with providential and judicial severity easily under the care of one pastor, and both so that may make by-standers tremble): secondly, as near to Stock that you can visit them witha privilege, which you well know how to dilate out difficulty, as often as you please, I see no upon, better than I can tell you: thirdly, as a sign reasonable objection, nor does your mother. As of that covenant by which believers are entitled to to the wry-mouthed sneers and illiberal miscona rest that yet remaineth: fourthly, as the sine structions of the censorious, I know no better shield qua non of the christian character; and upon this to guard you against them, than what you are head I should guard against being misunderstood already furnished with a clear and unoffending to mean no more than two attendances upon pub-conscience,

lic worship, which is a form complied with by I am obliged to you for what you said upon the thousands who never kept a sabbath in their lives. subject of book-buying, and am very fond of availConsistence is necessary, to give substance and ing myself of another man's pocket, when I can solidity to the whole. To sanctify the day at do it creditably to myself, and without injury to church, and to trifle it away out of church, is pro- him. Amusements are necessary, in a retirement fanation, and vitiates all. After all, I could ask Mike mine, especially in such a sable state of mind my catechumen one short question-'Do you love the as I labour under. The necessity of amusement day, or do you not? If you love it, you will never makes me sometimes write verses-it made me a inquire how far you may safely deprive yourself carpenter, a bird-cage maker, a gardener and has of the enjoyment of it. If you do not love it, and lately taught me to draw, and to draw too with you find yourself obliged in conscience to acknowledge it, that is an alarming symptom, and ought to make you tremble. If you do not love it, then it is a weariness to you, and you wish it was over. The ideas of labour and rest are not more opposite to each other than the idea of a sabbath, and that dislike and disgust with which it fills the souls of thousands to be obliged to keep it. It is worse than bodily labour.' W. C.

such surprising proficiency in the art, considering my total ignorance of it two months ago, that when I show your mother my productions, she is all admiration and applause.

You need never fear the communication of what you entrust to us in confidence. You know your mother's delicacy in this point sufficiently; and as for me, I once wrote a Connoisseur upon the subject of secret keeping, and from that day to this I believe I have never divulged one.

We were much pleased with Mr. Newton's application to you for a charity sermon, and with what he said upon that subject in his last letter, that he was glad of an opportunity to give you that proof of his regard.'

Believe me yours, W. C

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. Olney, April 16, 1780. SINCE I wrote my last we have had a visit I did not feel myself vehemently

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. MY DEAR FRIEND, April 6, 1780. I NEVER was, any more than yourself, a friend to pluralities; they are generally found in the hands of the avaricious, whose insatiable hunger after preferment proves them unworthy of any at all. They attend much to the regular payment of their dues, but not at all to the spiritual interest of their parishioners. Having forgot their duty, or never known it, they differ in nothing from the laity, except their outward garb, and their exclusive right from to the desk and pulpit. But when pluralities seek disposed to receive him with that complaisance, the man, instead of being sought by him; and from which a stranger generally infers that he is when the man is honest, conscientious, and pious; welcome. By his manner, which was rather bold careful to employ a substitute in those respects than easy, I judged that there was no occasion for like himself; and, not contented with this, will see it, and that it was a trifle which, if he did not meet with his own eyes that the concerns of his parishes with, neither would he feel the want of. He has are decently and diligently administered; in that the air of a traveled man, but not of a traveled case, considering the present dearth of such cha- gentleman; is quite delivered from that reserve racters in the ministry, I think it an event advan- which is so common an ingredient in the English Lageous to the people, and much to be desired by all character, yet does not open himself gently and who regret the great and apparent want of sobriety gradually, as men of polite behaviour do, but bursts and earnestness among the clergy. A man who upon you all at once. He talks very loud, and does not seek a living merely as a pecuniary emol- when our poor little robins hear a great noise, they ument has no need, in my judgment, to refuse one are immediately seized with an ambition to surpass

it; the increase of their vociferation occasioned an fine estate, a large conservatory, a hot-house rich increase of his, and his in return acted as a stimu- as a West-Indian garden, things of consequence; lus upon theirs; neither side entertained a thought visit them with pleasure, and muse upon them of giving up the contest, which became continually with ten times more. I am pleased with a frame more interesting to our ears, during the whole of four lights, doubtful whether the few pines it visit. The birds however survived it, and so did contains will ever be worth a farthing; amuse mywe. They perhaps flatter themselves they gained self with a greenhouse which lord Bute's gardener a complete victory, but I believe Mr. -could could take upon his back, and walk away with; and when I have paid it the accustomed visit, and watered it, and given it air, I say to myself—' This is not mine, 'tis a plaything lent me for the present; I must leave it soon.' W. C.

have killed them both in another hour. W. C.

TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON. DEAR SIR, May 3, 1780. You indulge me in such a variety of subjects, and allow me such a latitude of excursion in this scribbling employment, that I have no excuse for MY DEAR FRIEND, Olney, May 6, 1780. silence. I am much obliged to you for swallowing I am much obliged to you for your speedy answer such boluses as I send you, for the sake of my to my queries. I know less of the law than a gilding, and verily believe that I am the only man country attorney, yet sometimes I think I have alalivè, from whom they would be welcome to a pa- most as much business. My former connexion late like yours. I wish I could make them more with the profession has got wind; and though I splendid than they are, more alluring to the eye, earnestly profess, and protest, and proclaim it at least, if not more pleasing to the taste; but my abroad that I know nothing of the matter, they leaf gold is tarnished, and has received such a tinge can not be persuaded to believe, that a head once from the vapours that are ever brooding over my endued with a legal periwig can ever be deficient mind, that I think it no small proof of your par- in those natural endowments it is supposed to tiality to me, that you will read my letters. I am cover. I have had the good fortune to be once or not fond of long-winded metaphors; I have always twice in the right, which, added to the cheapness observed, that they halt at the latter end of their of a gratuitous counsel, has advanced my credit to progress, and so do mine. I deal much in ink in- a degree I never expected to attain in the capacity deed, but not such ink as is employed by poets, of a lawyer. Indeed, if two of the wisest in the and writers of essays. Mine is a harmless fluid, science of jurisprudence may give opposite opinions and guilty of no deceptions, but such as may pre- on the same point, which does not unfrequently vail without the least injury to the person imposed happen, it seems to be a matter of indifference on. I draw mountains, valleys, woods, and streams, whether a man answers by rule or at a venture. and ducks, and dab-chicks. I admire them my- He that stumbles upon the right side of the quesself, and Mrs. Unwin admires them; and her tion is just as useful to his client as he that arpraise, and my praise put together, are fame enough rives at the same end by regular approaches, and for me. O! I could spend whole days and moon-is conducted to the mark he aims at by the greatest light nights in feeding upon a lovely prospect! authorities. My eyes drink the rivers as they flow. If every human being upon earth could think for one quarThese violent attacks of a distemper so often ter of an hour as I have done for many years, there fatal, are very alarming to all who esteem and remight perhaps be many miserable men among spect the chancellor as he deserves. A life of conthem, but not an unawakened one could be found, finement, and of anxious attention to important from the Arctic to the Antarctic circle. At pre-objects, where the habit is bilious to such a terrible sent, the difference between them and me is greatly degree, threatens to be but a short one: and I wish to their advantage. I delight in baubles, and he may not be made a text for men of reflection to know them to be so: for rested in, and viewed with- moralize upon, affording a conspicuous instance of out a reference to their auther, what is the earth, the transient and fading nature of all human acwhat are the planets, what is the sun itself but a complishments and attainments. bauble? Better for a man never to have seen them, on to see them with the eyes of a brute, stupid and unconscious of what he beholds, than not to be able to say, 'The Maker of all these wonders is my friend!' Their eyes have never been opened, to see that they are trifles; mine have been, and MY DEAR FRIEND, will be till they are closed for ever. They think a

Yours affectionately, W. C.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.
May 8, 1780.

My scribbling humour has of late been entirely

absorbed in the passion for landscape drawing. It I am now reading, and have read three volumes it is a most amusing art, and like every other art, requires much practice and attention.

Nil sine multo

Vita labore dedit mortalibus.

of Hume's History, one of which is engrossed entirely by that subject. There I see reason to alter my opinion, and the seeining resemblance has disappeared upon a more particular information Excellence is providentially placed beyond the Charles succeeded to a long train of arbitrary prinreach of indolence, that success may be the reward ces, whose subjects had tamely acquiesced in the of industry, and that idleness may be punished despotism of their masters, till their privileges were with obscurity and disgrace. So long as I am all forgot. He did but tread in their steps, and pleased with an employment, I am capable of un- exemplify the principles in which he had been wearied application, because my feelings are all brought up, when he oppressed his people. But of the intense kind. I never received a little plea- just at that time, unhappily for the monarch, the sure from any thing in my life; if I am delighted, subject began to see, and to see that he had a right it is in the extreme. The unhappy consequence to property and freedom. This marks a sufficient of this temperature is, that my attachment to any difference between the disputes of that day and occupation seldom outlives the novelty of it. That the present. But there was another main cause nerve of my imagination, that feels the touch of of that rebellion, which at this time does not opeany particular amusement, twangs under the rate at all. The king was devoted to the hierarenergy of the pressure with so much vehemence, chy; his subjects were puritans, and would not that it soon becomes sensible of weariness and fa- bear it. Every circumstance of ecclesiastical ortigue. Hence I draw an unfavourable prognostic, der and discipline was an abomination to them, and expect that I shall shortly be constrained to and in his esteem an indispensable duty. And look out for something else. Then perhaps I may though at last he was obliged to give up many. string the harp again, and be able to comply with things, he would not abolish episcopacy, and till your demand. that were done his concessions could have no conNow for the visit you propose to pay us, and ciliating effect. These two concurring causes propose not to pay us; the hope of which plays were indeed sufficient to set three kingdoms, in a upon your paper, like a jack-o-lantern upon the flame. But they subsist not now, nor any other, ceiling. This is no mean simile, for Virgil, (you I hope, notwithstanding the bustle made by the remember) uses it. 'Tis here, 'tis there, it vanishes, patriots, equal to the production of such terrible it returns, it dazzles you, a cloud interposes, and it events. Yours, my dear friend, W. C. is gone. However just the comparison, I hope you will contrive to spoil it, and that your final determination will be to come. As to the masons you expect, bring them with you-bring brick, bring mortar, bring every thing that would oppose itself to your journey-all shall be welcome. I MY DEAR COUSIN, May 10, 1780. have a greenhouse that is too small, come and en- I Do not write to comfort you: that office is not large it; build me a pinery; repair the garden- likely to be well performed by one who has no wall, that has great need of your assistance; do comfort for himself; nor to comply with an imany thing; you can not do too much; so far from pertinent ceremony, which in general might well thinking you and your train troublesome, we shall be spared upon such occasions: but because I would rejoice to see you, upon these or upon any other not seem indifferent to the concerns of those I terms you can propose. But to be serious-you have so much reason to esteem and love. If I did will do well to consider that a long summer is be- not sorrow for your brother's death, I should exfore you that the party will not have such ano-pect that nobody would for mine; when I knew ther opportunity to meet this great while; that him, he was much beloved, and I doubt not conyou may finish your masonry long enough before tinued to be so. To live and die together is the winter, though you should not begin this month, lot of a few happy families, who hardly know what but that you can not always find your brother and a separation means, and one sepulchre serves them sister Powley at Olney. These, and some other all; but the ashes of our kindred are dispersed inconsiderations, such as the desire we have to see deed. Whether the American gulf has swallowyou, and the pleasure we expect from seeing you ed up any other of my relations, I know not; it has all together, may, and I think, ought to overcome made many mourners. your scruples.

TO MRS. COWPER.

Believe me, my dear cousin, though after a long From, a general recollection of lord Clarendon's silence which perhaps nothing less than the preHistory of the Rebellion, I thought (and I remem-sent concern could have prevailed with me to inber I told you so) that there was a striking resem- terrupt, as much as ever,

blance between that period and the present. But

Your affectionate kinsman, W. C.

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

praise dearly, especially from the judicious, and those who have so much delicacy themselves as not MY DEAR FRIEND, May 10, 1780. to offend mine in giving it. But then, I found If authors could have lived to adjust and authen- this consequence attending, or likely to attend the ticate their own text, a commentator would have eulogium you bestowed-if my friend thought me been an useless creature. For instance-if Dr. witty before, he shall think me ten times more witBentley had found, or opined that he had found, ty hereafter-where I joked once, I will joke five the word tube, where it seemed to present itself to times, and for one sensible remark, I will send him you, and had judged the subject worthy of his cri- a dozen. Now this foolish vanity would have tical acumen, he would either have justified the spoiled me quite, and would have made me as discorrupt reading, or have substituted some inven- gusting a letter-writer as Pope, who seems to have tion of his own, in defence of which he would thought that unless a sentence was well turned, have exerted all his polemical abilities, and have and every period pointed with some conceit, it was quarreled with half the literati in Europe. Then not worth the carriage. Accordingly, he is to me, suppose the writer himself, as in the present case, except in very few instances, the most disagreeato interpose with a gentle whisper, thus If ble maker of epistles that ever I met with. I was you look again, doctor, you will perceive that what willing, therefore, to wait till the impression your appears to you to be tube, is neither more nor less commendation had made upon the foolish part of than the simple monosyllable ink, but I wrote it in me was worn off, that I might scribble away as great haste, and the want of sufficient precision usual, and write my uppermost thoughts, and those in the character has occasioned your mistake: you only.

case.

will be especially satisfied, when you see the sense You are better skilled in ecclesiastical law than elucidated by the explanation.'-But I question I am. Mrs. P. desires me to inform her, whether whether the doctor would quit his ground, or allow a parson can be obliged to take an apprentice. For any author to be a competent judge in his own some of her husband's opposers at D, threatThe world, however, would acquiesce im- en to clap one upon him. Now I think it would mediately, and vote the critic useless. be rather hard, if clergymen, who are not allowed James Andrews, who is my Michael Angelo, to exercise any handicraft whatever, should be pays me many compliments on my success in the subject to such an imposition. If Mr. P. was a art of drawing, but I have not yet the vanity to cordwainer, or a breeches-maker, all the week, and think myself qualified to furnish your apartment. a preacher only on Sundays, it would seem reaIf I should ever attain to the degree of self-opinion requisite to such an undertaking, I shall labour at it with pleasure. I can only say, though I hope not with the affected modesty of the above-mentioned Dr. Bentley, who said the same thing, Me quoque dicunt

Vatem pastores. Sed non Ego credulus illis. A crow, rook, or raven, has built a nest in one of the young elm-trees, at the side of Mrs. Aspray's orchard. In the violent storm that blew yesterday morning, I saw it agitated to a degree that seem ed to threaten its immediate destruction, and versified the following thoughts upon the occasion.* W. C.

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TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. MY DEAR FRIEND,

sonable enough, in that case, that he should take an apprentice if he chose it. But even then, in my poor judgment, he ought to be left to his option. If they mean by an apprentice, a pupil, whom they will oblige him to hew into a parson, and after chipping away the block that hides the minister within, to qualify him to stand erect in a pulpit-that indeed is another consideration-But still we live in a free country, and I can not bring myself even to suspect that an English divine can possibly be liable to such compulsion. Ask your uncle, however, for he is wiser in these things than either of us.

I thank you for your two inscriptions, and like the last the best; the thought is just and finebut the two last lines are sadly damaged by the monkish jingle of peperit and reperit. I have not yet translated them, nor do I promise to do it, June 8, 1780. though at some idle hour perhaps I may. In reIt is possible I might have indulged myself in turn, I send you a translation of a simile in the the pleasure of writing to you, without waiting for Paradise Lost. Not having that poem at hand, a letter from you, but for a reason which you will I can not refer you to the book and page, but you not easily guess. Your mother communicated to may hunt for it, if you think it worth your while. ine the satisfaction you expressed in my corres--It beginspondence, that you thought me entertaining and lever, and so forth: now you must know, I love

Cowper's Fable of the Raven concluded this letter.

'So when, from mountain tops, the dusky clouds
Ascending, &c."

For the translation of this smile, see Cowper's Prems

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If you spy any fault in my Latin, tell me, for I bring an odium on the profession they make, that am sometimes in doubt; but, as I told you when will not soon be forgotten. Neither is it possible you was here, I have not a Latin book in the for a quiet, inoffensive man, to discover, on a sudworld to consult, or correct a mistake by; and den, that his zeal has carried him into such comsome years have passed since I was a school-boy. pany, without being to the last degree shocked at his imprudence. Their religion was an honourAn English Versification of a Thought that popped into able mantle, like that of Elijah; but the majority my Head two Months since. wore cloaks of Guy Fawkes's time, and meant nothing so little as what they pretended.

Sweet stream!" &c. .

Now this is not so exclusively applicable to a maiden, as to be the sole property of your sister Shuttleworth. If you look at Mrs. Unwin, you will see that she has not lost her right to this just praise by marrying you.

Your mother sends her love to all and mine comes jogging along by the side of it.

Yours,

W..C.

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

DEAR SIR,
June 12, 1780.
We accept it as an effort of your friendship,
that you could prevail with yourself, in a time of
such terror and distress, to send us repeated ac-
counts of yours and Mrs. Newton's welfare; you
supposed, with reason enough, that we should be
apprehensive for your safety, situated as you were,
apparently, within the reach of so much danger.
We rejoice that you have escaped at all, and that,
except the anxiety which you must have felt, both
for yourselves and others, you have suffered no-
thing upon this dreadful occasion. A metropolis in
flames, and a nation in ruins, are subjects of con-
templation for such a mind as yours as will leave a
lasting impression behind them. It is well that
the design died in the execution, and will be bu-
ried, I hope never to rise again, in the ashes of
its own combustion. There is a melancholy plea-
sure in looking back upon such a scene, arising
from a comparison of possibilities with facts; the

W. C.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.
June 18, 1780.

REVEREND AND DEAR WILLIAM,

THE affairs of kingdoms, and the concerns of individuals, are variegated alike with the checkerwork of joy and sorrow. The news of a great acquisition in America has succeeded to terrible tumults in London; and the beams of prosperity are now playing upon the smoke of that conflagration which so lately terrified the whole land. These sudden changes, which are matter of every reasonably expected, serve to hold up the chin of man's observation, and may therefore always be despondency above water, and preserve mankind in general from the sin and misery of accounting existence a burden not to be endured- an evil we

should be sure to encounter, if we were not warranted to look for a bright reverse of our most afflictive experiences. The Spaniards were sick of the war at the very commencement of it; and I hope that, by this time, the French themselves begin to find themselves a little indisposed, if not desirous of peace, which that restless and meddling temper of theirs is incapable of desiring for

its own sake. But is it true, that this detestable plot was an egg laid in France, and hatched in London, under the influence of French corruption?-Nam te scire, deos quoniam propius conenormous bulk of the intended mischief with the abortive and partial accomplishment of it; much tingis, oportet. The offspring has the features was done, more indeed than could have been sup- of such a parent, and yet, without the clearest posed practicable in a well-regulated city, not un-proof of the fact, I would not willingly charge furnished with a military force for its protection. But surprise and astonishment seem at first to have struck every nerve of the police with a palsy; and to have disarmed government of all its

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upon a civilized nation what perhaps the most barbarous would abhor the thought of. I no sooner saw the surmise however in the paper, than I immediately began to write Latin verses upon the occasion. An odd effect,' you will say, 'of such a circumstance:'—but an effect, nevertheless, that whatever has, at any time, moved my passions, whether pleasantly or otherwise, has always had upon me: were I to express what I feel upon such occasions in prose, it would be verbose, inflated, and disgusting. I therefore have recourse verse, as a suitable vehicle for the most vehement expressions my thoughts suggest to me. What I have written, I did not write so much for the con fort of the English, as for the mortification of the

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