they have admired in Pope, will account my trans- not his consolations from you. I know by expelation in those particulars defective. But I com- rience that they are neither few nor small; and fort myself with the thought, that in reality it is though I feel for you as I never felt for man before, no defect; on the contrary, that the want of all yet do I sincerely rejoice in this, that whereas such embellishments as do not belong to the ori- there is but one true comforter in the universe, ginal will be one of its principal merits with per- under afflictions such as yours, you both know him, sons indeed capable of relishing Homer. He is and know where to seek him. I thought you a the best poet that ever lived for many reasons, but man the most happily mated, that I had ever seen, for none more than for that majestic plainness that and had great pleasure in your felicity. Pardon distinguishes him from all others. As an accom- me, if now I feel a wish that, short as my acquaintplished person moves gracefully without thinking ance with her was, I had never seen her. I should of it, in like manner the dignity of Homer seems have mourned with you, but not as I do now. to cost him no labour. It was natural to him to Mrs. Unwin sympathizes with you also most sinsay great things, and to say them well, and little cerely, and you neither are, nor will be soon forornaments were beneath his notice. If Maty, my gotten in such prayers as we can make at Olney. dearest cousin, should return to you my copy with I will not detain you longer now, my poor afflicted any such strictures as may make it necessary for friend, than to commit, you to the tender mercy me to see it again, before it goes to Johnson, in of God, and to bid you a sorrowful adieu! that case you shall send it to me, otherwise to Johnson immediately; for he writes me word he wishes his friend to go to work upon it as soon as possible. When you come, my dear, we will hang all these critics together. For they have worried me without remorse or conscience. At Adieu! ever yours, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. Olney, March 6, 1786. least one of them has. I had actually murdered MY DEAREST COUSIN, more than a few of the best lines in the specimen, YOUR opinion has more weight with me than in compliance with, his requisitions, but plucked that of all the critics in the world; and to give you up my courage at last, and in that very last oppor- a proof of it, I make you a covenant, that I would tunity that I had, recovered them to life again by hardly have made to them all united. I do not restoring the original reading. At the same time indeed absolutely covenant, promise, and agree, I readily confess that the specimen is the better that I will discard all my elisions, but I hereby for all this discipline its author has undergone; bind myself to dismiss as many of them as, with-, but then it has been more indebted for its improve- out sacrificing energy to sound, I can. It is inment to that pointed accuracy of examination, to cumbent upon me in the mean time to say somewhich I was myself excited, than to any proposed thing in justification of the few that I shall retain, amendments from Mr. Critic; for as sure as you that I may not seem a poet mounted rather on a are my cousin, whom I long to see at Olney, so mule than on Pegasus. In the first place, The, surely would he have done me irritable mischief, is a barbarism. We are indebted for it to the if I would have given him leave. Celts, or the Goths, or to the Saxons, or perhaps My friend Bagot writes to me in a most friend- to them all. In the two best languages that ever ly strain, and calls loudly upon me for original were spoken, the Greek and the Latin, there is no poetry. When I shall have done with Homer, similar incumbrance of expression to be found. probably he will not call in vain. Having found Secondly, The perpetual use of it in our language the prime feather of a swan on the banks of the is to us miserable poets attended with two great smug and silver Trent, he keeps it for me. Adieu, dear cousin, W. C. I am sorry that the General has such indifferent health. He must not die. I can by no means spare a person so kind to me. inconveniences. Our verse consisting only of ten syllables, it not unfrequently happens that a fifth part of a line is to be engrossed, and necessarily too, (unless elision prevents it) by this abominable intruder; and, which is worse in my account, open vowels are continually the consequence-The element-The air, &c. Thirdly, the French, who are equally with the English chargeable with barbarism in this particular, dispose of their Le and their La without ceremony, and always take care that they shall be absorbed, both in verse and in ALAS! alas! my dear, dear friend, may God prose, in the vowel that immediately follows them. himself con.fort you! I will not be so absurd as to Fourthly, and I believe lastly, (and for your sake attempt it. By the close of your letter it should I wish it may prove so) the practice of cutting seem, that in this hour of great trial he withholds short a The is warranted by Milton, who of all TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. English poets that ever lived, had certainly the will of course pass into your hands before they finest ear. Dr. Warton indeed has dared to say are sent to Johnson. The quire that I sent is that he had a bad one; for which he deserves, as now in the hands of Johnson's friend. I intended far as critical demerit can deserve it, to lose his to have told you in my last, but forgot it, that Johnown. I thought I had done, but there is still a son behaves very handsomely in the affair of my fifthly behind, and it is this, that the custom of two volumes. He acts with a liberality not often abbreviating The belongs to the style in which, found in persons of his occupation, and to mention in my advertisement annexed to the specimen, I it, when occasion calls me to it, is a justice due to profess to write. The use of that style would have him. warranted me in the practice of much greater li- I am very much pleased with Mr. Stanley's letberty of this sort than I ever intended to take. In ter-several compliments were paid me, on the perfect consistence with that style I might say, subject of that first volume, by my own friends; I' th' tempest, I' th' door-way, &c., which however but I do not recollect that I ever knew the opinion I would not allow myself to do, because I was of a stranger about it before, whether favourable aware that it would be objected to, and with rea- or otherwise; I only heard by a side wind, that son. But it seems to me for the causes above said, it was very much read in Scotland, and more than that when I shorten The, before a vowel, or before here. wh, as in the line you mention, Farewell, my dearest cousin, whom we expect, of whom we talk continually, and whom we continually long for. W. C. "Than th' whole broad Hellespont in all its parts," my license is not equally exceptionable, because Your anxious wishes for my success delight me, W though he rank as a consonant in the word and you may rest assured, my dear, that I have all whole, is not allowed to announce himself to the the ambition on the subject that you can wish me ear; and H is an aspirate. But as I said at the to feel. I more than admire my author. I often beginning, so say I still, I am most willing to con- stand astonished at his beauties. I am for ever form myself to your very sensible observation, that amused with the translation of him, and I have it is necessary, if we would please, to consult the received a thousand encouragements. These are taste of our own day; neither would I have pelted all so many happy omens, that I hope shall be you, my dearest cousin, with any part of this vol- verified by the event. ley of good reasons, had I not designed them as an answer to those objections which you say you have heard from others. But I only mention them. Though satisfactory to myself, I waive them, and will allow to The his whole dimensions, whenso ever it can be done. Thou only critic of my verse that is to be found in all the earth, whom I love, what shall I say in answer to your own objection to that passage, "Softly he plac'd his hand On the old man's hand, and push'd it gently away?" TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN MY DEAR FRIEND, March 13, 1786. I SEEM to be about to write to you, but I foresee that it will not be a letter, but a scrap that I shall send you. I could tell you things that, knowing how much you interest yourself in my success, I am sure would please you, but every moment of my leisure is necessarily spent at Troy. I am revising my translation, and bestowing on it I can say neither more nor less than this, that more labour than at first. At the repeated soliciwhen our dear friend, the General, sent me his tation of General Cowper, who had doubtless irreopinion of the specimen, quoting those very few fragable reason on his side, I have put my book words from it, he added, “With this part I was into the hands of the most extraordinary critic particularly pleased; there is nothing in poetry that I have ever heard of. He is a Swiss; has more descriptive." Such were his very words. an accurate knowledge of English, and for his Taste, my dear, is various: there is nothing so knowledge of Homer has, I verily believe, no felvarious ; and even between the persons of the best low. Johnson recommended him to me. I am taste there are diversities of opinion on the same to send him the quires as fast as I finish them off, subject, for which it is not possible to account. So and the first is now in his hands. I have the commuch for these matters. fort to be able to tell you, that he is very much You advise me to consult the General, and to pleased with what he has seen. Johnson wrote confide in him. I follow your advice, and have to me lately on purpose to tell me so. Things done both. By the last post I asked his permis- having taken this turn, I fear that I must beg a sion to send him the books of my Homer, as fast release from my engagement to put the MS. into as I should finish them off. I shall be glad of his your hands. I am bound to print as soon as three remarks, and more glad than of any thing, to do hundred shall have subscribed, and consequently that which I hope may be agreeable to him. They have not an hour to spare.. People generally love to go where they are admired, yet lady Hesketh complains of not having seen you. Yours, W. C. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ.. April 5, 1786. village called Emberton, and command the whole length of a long bridge, described by a certain poet, together with a view of the road at a distance. Should you wish for books at Olney, you must bring them with you, or you will wish in vain, for I have none but the works of a certain poet, Cowper, of whom perhaps you have heard, and they are as yet but two volumes. They may multiply hereafter, but at present they are no more. I DID, as you suppose, bestow all possible consideration on the subject of an apology for my You are the first person for whom I have heard Homerican undertaking. I turned the matter Mrs. Unwin express such feelings as she does for about in my mind an hundred different ways, and you. She is not profuse in professions, nor forin every way in which it would present itself ward to enter into treaties of friendship with new found it an impracticable business. It is impossi- faces, but when her friendship is once engaged, it ble for me, with what delicacy soever I may man- may be confided in even unto death. She loves age it, to state the objections that lie against Pope's you already, and how much more will she love you translation, without incurring odium, and the im- before this time twelvemonth! I have indeed en-, putation of arrogance; foreseeing this danger, I deavoured to describe you to her, but perfectly as I choose to say nothing. have you by heart, I am sensible that my picture can not do you justice. I never saw one that did. P. S.-You may well wonder at my courage, Be you what you may, you are much beloved and who have undertaken a work of such enormous will be so at Olney, and Mrs. U. expects you with length. You would wonder more if you knew the pleasure that one feels at the return of a long that I translated the whole Iliad with no other absent, dear relation; that is to say, with a pleasure help than a Clavis. But I have since equipped such as mine. She sends you her warmest affecmyself better for this immense journey, and am tions. revising the work in company with a good com mentator. TO LADY HESKETH. MY DEAREST COUSIN, W. C. Olney, April 17, 1786. On Friday I received a letter from dear Anonymous, apprising me of a parcel that the coach would bring me on Saturday. Who is there in the world that has, or thinks he has reason to love me to the degree that he does? But it is no matter. He chooses to be unknown, and his choice is, and ever shall be so sacred to me, that if his name lay on the table before me reversed, I would IF you will not quote Solomon, my dearest cou- not turn the paper about that I might read it. sin, I will. He says, and as beautifully as truly- Much as it would gratify me to thank him, I would Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but when turn my eyes away from the forbidden discovery. the desire cometh, it is a tree of life!" I feel how I long to assure him that those same eyes, conmuch reason he had on his side when he made cerning which he expresses such kind apprehenthis observation, and am myself sick of your fort-sions, lest they should suffer by this laborious unnight's delay. dertaking, are as well as I could expect them to be, if I were never to touch either book or pen. The vicarage was built by Lord Dartmouth, Subject to weakness, and occasional slight inflamand was not finished till some time after we ar- mations, it is probable that they will always be; rived at Olney, consequently it is new. It is a but I can not remember the time when they ensmart stone building well sashed, by much too joyed any thing so like an exemption from those good for the living, but just what I would wish infirmities as at present. One would almost supfor you. It has, as you justly concluded from my pose that reading Homer were the best ophthalmic premises, a garden, but rather calculated for use in the world. I should be happy to remove his than ornament. It is square, and well walled, but solicitude on the subject, but it is a pleasure that has neither arbour, nor alcove, nor other shade, he will not let me enjoy. Well then, I will be except the shadow of the house. But we have content without it; and so content that, though 1 two gardens, which are yours. Between your believe you, my dear, to be in full possession of mansion and ours is interposed nothing but an all this mystery, you shall never know me, while orchard, into which a door opening out of our you live, either directly, or by hints of any sort, garden affords us the easiest communication imag- attempt to extort, or to steal the secret from you. inable, will save the round-about by the town, and I should think myself as justly punishable as the make both houses one. Your chamber-windows Bethshemites, for looking into the ark, which thev look over the river, and over the meadows, to a were not allowed to touch. I have not sent for Kerr, for Kerr can do no-that you are a Cowper (and the better it is for the thing but send me to Bath, and to Bath I can not Cowpers that such you are, and I give them joy go for a thousand reasons. The summer will set of you, with all my heart) you must not forget that me up again; I grow fat every day, and shall be I boast myself a Cowper too, and have my huas big as Gog or Magog, or both put together, be-mours, and fancies, and purposes, and determinafore you come. tions, as well as others of my name, and hold them I did actually live three years with Mr. Chap-as fast as they can. You indeed tell me how often man, a solicitor, that is to say, I slept three years I shall see you when you come. A pretty story in his house, but I lived, that is to say, I spent my truly. I am a he Cowper, my dear, and claim days in Southampton Row, as you very well re- the privileges that belong to my noble sex. But member. There was I, and the future Lord Chan- these matters shall be settled, as my cousin Agacellor, constantly employed from morning to night memnon used to say, at a more convenient time. in giggling and making giggle, instead of studying I shall rejoice to see the letter you promise me, the law. O fie, cousin! how could you do so? I for though I met with a morsel of praise last week, am pleased with Lord Thurlow's inquiries about I'do not know that the week current is likely to me. If he takes it into that inimitable head of produce me any, and having lately been pretty his, he may make a man of me yet. I could love much pampered with that diet, I expect to find him heartily if he would but deserve it at my myself rather hungry by the time when your next hands. That I did so once is certain. The Duch-letter shall arrive. It will therefore be very opess of who in the world set her a going? portune. The morsel above alluded to, came from But if all the duchesses in the world were spin--whom do you think? From , but she ning, like so many whirligigs, for my benefit, I desires that her authorship may be a secret. And would not stop them. It is a noble thing to be a in my answer I promised not to divulge it except poet, it makes all the world so lively. I might to you. It is a pretty copy of verses, neatly writhave preached more sermons than even Tillotson ten, and well turned, and when you come you did, and better, and the world would have been shall see them. I intend to keep all pretty things still fast asleep, but a volume of verse is a fiddle to myself till then, that they may serve me as a that puts the universe in motion. bait to lure you hither more effectually. The last letter that I had from I received so many years since, that it seems as if it had reached me a good while before I was born. Yours, my dear friend and cousin, W. C. The grass begins to grow, and the leaves to bud, and every thing is preparing to be beautiful against you come. Adieu, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. I was grieved at the heart that the General could not come, and that illness was in part the cause Olney, April 24, 1786. that hindered him. I have sent him, by his exYOUR letters are so much my comfort that I press desire, a new edition of the first book, and often tremble lest by any accident I should be dis- half the second. He would not suffer me to send appointed; and the more because you have been, it to you, my dear, lest you should post it away more than once, so engaged in company on the to Maty at once. He did not give that reason, writing day, that I have had a narrow escape. Let but, being shrewd, I found it. me give you a piece of good counsel, my cousin ; follow my laudable example, write when you can, take Time's forelock in one hand, and a pen in the other, and so make sure of your opportunity. It is well for me that you write faster than any body, and more in an hour tnan other people in two, else I know not what would become of me. When I read your letters I hear you talk, and I love talking letters dearly, especially from you. Well! the middle of June will not be always a but a few more weeks and then! thousand years off, and when it comes I shall hear you, and see you too, and shall not care a farthing then if you do not touch a pen in a month. By the way, you must either send me, or bring me some more paper, for before the moon shall have performed a few more revolutions I shall not have a scrap left, and tedious revolutions they are just now, that is certain." I give you leave to be as peremptory as you please, especially at a distance; but when you say You inquire of our walks, I perceive, as well as of our rides. They are beautiful. You inquire also concerning a cellar. You have two cellars. Oh! what years have passed since we took the same walks, and drank out of the same bottle! TO LADY HESKETH.. Olney, May 8, 1786. I DID not at all doubt that your tenderness for my feelings had inclined you to suppress in your letters to me the intelligence concerning Maty's critique, that yet reached me from another quarter. When I wrote to you I had not learned it from the General, but from my friend Bull, who only with a view to emolument. I wrote those stanzas knew it by hearsay. The next post brought me merely for my own amusement, and they slept in the news of it from the first-mentioned, and the a dark closet years after I composed them; not in critique itself enclosed. Together with it came the least designed for publication. But when also a squib discharged against me in the Public Johnson had printed off the longer pieces, of which Advertiser. The General's letter found me in one the first volume principally consists, he wrote me of my most melancholy moods, and my spirits did word that he wanted yet two thousand lines to not rise on the receipt of it. The letter indeed that swell it to a proper size. On that occasion it was he had cut, from the newspaper gave me little pain, that I collected every scrap of verse that I could both because it contained nothing formidable, find, and that among the rest. None of the smaller though written with malevolence enough, and be- poems had been introduced or had been published cause a nameless author can have no more weight at all with my name, but for this necessity. with his readers than the reason which he has on Just as I wrote the last word I was called down his side can give him. But Maty's animadversions to Dr. Kerr, who came to pay me a voluntary hurt me more. In part they appeared to me un-visit. Were I sick, his cheerful and friendly manjust, and in part ill-natured, and yet the man him- ner would almost restore me. Air and exercise self being an oracle in every body's account, I ap-are his theme; them he recommends as the best prehended that he had done me much mischief. physic for me, and in all weathers. Come thereWhy he says that the translation is far from ex- fore, my dear, and take a little of this good physic act, is best known to himself. For I know it to with me, for you will find it beneficial as well as be as exact as is compatible with poetry; and I; come and assist Mrs. Unwin in the re-establishprose translations of Homer are not wanted, the ment of your cousin's health, Air and exercise, world has one already. But I will not fill my let- and she and you together, will make me a perfect ter to you with hypercriticisms, I will only add an Sampson. You will have a good house over your extract from a letter of Colman's, that I received head, comfortable apartments, obliging neighbours, last Friday, and will then dismiss the subject. It good roads, a pleasant country, and in us your came accompanied by a copy of the specimen, constant companions, two who will love you, and which he himself had amended, and with so much do already love you dearly, and with all our hearts. taste and candour that it charmed me. He says If you are in any danger of trouble, it is from myas follows; self, if my fits of dejection seize me; and as often as "One copy I have returned with some remarks, they do, you will be grieved for me; but perhaps prompted by my zeal for your success, not, Heaven by your assistance I shall be able to resist them knows, by arrogance or impertinence. I know no better. If there is a creature under heaven, from other way at once so plain and so short, of deliver-whose co-operations with Mrs. Unwin I can reaing my thoughts on the specimen of your transla-sonably expect such a blessing, that creature is tion, which on the whole I admire exceedingly, yourself. I was not without such attacks when I thinking it breathes the spirit, and conveys the lived in London, though at that time they were manner of the original; though having here neither less oppressive, but in your company I was never Homer, nor Pope's Homer, I can not speak pre- unhappy a whole day in all my life. cisely of particular lines or expressions, or compare your blank verse with his rhyme, except by declaring, that I think blank verse infinitely more congenial to the magnificent simplicity of Homer's hexameters, than the confined couplets, and the jingle of rhyme.' Of how much importance is an author to himself! I return to that abominable specimen again, just to notice Maty's impatient censure of the repetition that you mention. I mean of the word hand. In the original there is not a repetition of it. But to repeat a word in that manner, and on such His amendments are chiefly bestowed on the an occasion, is by no means what he calls it, a lines encumbered with elisions, and I will just take modern invention. In Homer I could show him this opportunity to tell you, my dear, because I many such, and in Virgil they abound. Colman, know you to be as much interested in what I write who, in his judgment of classical matters, is inas myself, that some of the most offensive of those ferior to none, says, ' I know not why Maty objects elisions were occasioned by mere criticism. I was to this expression.' I could easily change it. But fairly hunted into them, by vexatious objections the case standing thus, I know not whether my made without end by-, and his friend, and proud stomach will condescend so low. I rather altered, and altered, till at last I did not care how feel disinclined to it. I altered. Many thanks for -'s verses, which One evening last week, Mrs. Unwin and I took deserve just the character, you give of them. They our walk to Weston, and as we were returning are neat and easy-but I would mumble her well, through the grove opposite to the house, the if I could get at her, for allowing herself to sup- Throckmortons presented themselves at the door. pose for a moment that I praised the Chancellor They are owners of a house at Weston, at present |