I shound choose for your general motto:Carmina tum melius, cum venerit ipse, canemus. For Vol. I. Unum pro multis dabitur caput. For Vol. II. Aspice, venturo I etentur ut omnia sæclo. It seems to me that you cannot have bet ter than these. Yours, my dear friend, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. Olney, Feb. 19, 1786. My dearest Cousin,-Since so it must be, so it shall be. If you will not sleep under the roof of a friend, may you never sleep under the roof of an enemy! An enemy, however, you will not presently find. Mrs. Unwin bids me mention her affectionately, and tell you that she willingly gives up a part, for the sake of the rest-willingly, at least as far as willingly may consist with some reluctance: I feel my reluctance too. Our design was that you should have slept in the room that serves me for a study, and its having been occupied by you would have been an additional recommendation of it to me. But all reluctances are superseded by the thought of seeing you; and because we have nothing so much at heart as the wish to see you happy and comfortable, we are desirous therefore to accommodate you to your own mind, and not to ours. Mrs. Unwin has already secured for you an apartment, or rather two, just such as we could wish. The house in which you will find them is within thirty yards of our own, and opposite to it. The whole affair is thus commodiously adjusted; and now I have nothing to do but to wish for June; and June, my Cousin, was never so wished for since June was made. I shall have a thousand things to hear, and a thousand to say, and they will all rush into my mind together, till it will be so crowded with things impatient to be said, that for some time I shall say nothing. But no matter-sooner or later they will all come out; and since we shall have you the longer for not having you under our own roof (a circumstance that more than anything reconciles us to that measure), they will stand the better chance. After so long a separation,-a separation that of late seemed likely to last for life we shall meet each other as alive from the dead; and for my own part, I can truly say, that I have not a friend in the other world whose resurrection would give me greater pleasure. I am truly happy, my dear, in having pleased you with what you have seen of my Homer I wish that all English readers had your un sophisticated, or rather unadulterated taste, and could relish simplicity like you. But I am well aware that in this respect I am under a disadvantage, and that many, especially many ladies, missing many turns and pretti nesses of expression, that they have admired in Pope, will account my translation in those particulars defective. But I comfort myself with the thought, that in reality it is no defect; on the contrary, that the want of all such embellishments as do not belong to the original, will be one of its principal merits with persons indeed capable of relishing Homer. He is the best poet that ever lived for many reasons, but for none more than for that majestic plainness that distinguishes him from all others. As an accomplished person moves gracefully without thinking of it, in like manner the dignity of Homer seems to cost him no labor. It was natural to him to say great things, and to say them well and little ornaments were beneath his notice. If Maty, my dearest cousin, should return to you my copy, with any such strictures as may make it necessary for me to see it again, before it goes to Johnson, in 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; fo they have worried me without remorse or conscience. At least one of them has. I had actually murdered more than a few of the best lines in the specimen, in compliance with his requisitions, but plucked up my courage at last, and, in the very last oppor tunity that I had, recovered them to life again by restoring the original reading. At the same time I readily confess that the specimen is the better for all this discipline its author has undergone, but then it has been more indebted for its improvement to that pointed accuracy of examination to which I was myself excited, than to any proposed amendments from Mr. Critic; for, as sure as you are my cousin, whom I long to see at Olney, so surely would he have done me irreparable mischief, if I would have given him leave. My friend Bagot writes to me in a most friendly strain, and calls loudly upon me for original poetry. When I shall have done with Homer, probably he will not call in vain. Having found the prime feather of a swan on the banks of the smug and silver Trent he keeps it for me. Adieu, dear Cousin, W. C. I am sorry that the General has such indif ferent hea.th. He must not die. I can by no means spare a person so kind to me. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. The air, &c. Thirdly, the French, who are Alas! alas! my dear, dear friend, may God nimself comfort you! I will not be so absurd as to attempt it.* By the close of your letter, it should seem that in this hour of great trial he withholds not his consolations from you. I know, by experience, that they are neither few nor small; and though I feel for you as I never felt for man before, yet do I sincerely rejoice in this, that, whereas there is but one true comforter in the universe, under afflictions such as yours, you both know Him, and know where to seek Him. I thought you a man the most happily mated that I had ever seen, and had great pleasure in your felicity. Pardon me, if now I feel a wish that, short as my acquaintance with her was, I had never seen her. I should have mourned with you, but not as I do now. Mrs. Unwin sympathizes with you also most sincerely, and you neither are nor will be soon forgotten in such prayers as we can make at Olney. I will say that he had a bad one, for which he deserves, as far as critical demerit can deserve it, to lose his own. I thought I had done, but there is still a fifthly behind; and it is this, that the custom of abbreviating The, tisement annexed to the specimen, I profess belongs to the style in which, in my adver to write. The use of that style would have warranted me in the practice of much greater liberty of this sort than I ever intended to take. In perfect consistence with that style, I might say, I' th' tempest, I' th' doorway, &c., which, however, I would not allow my not detain you longer now, my poor afflict-self to do, because I was aware that it would ed friend, than to commit you to the tender mercy of God, and to bid you a sorrowful adieu! be objected to, and with reason. But it seems to me, for the causes above-said, that when I shorten The, before a vowel, or before wh, as in the line you mention, Adieu! Ever yours, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. "Than th' whole broad Hellespont in all its parts," Olney, March 6, 1786. my license is not equally exceptionable, beMy dearest Cousin,-Your opinion has cause W, though he rank as a consonant, in more weight with me than that of all the the word whole, is not allowed to announce critics in the world; and, to give you a proof himself to the ear; and H is an aspirate. But of it, I make you a concession that I would as I said in the beginning, so say I still, I am hardly have made to them all united. I do most willing to conform myself to your very not indeed absolutely covenant, promise, and sensible observation, that it is necessary, if agree, that I will discard all my elisions, but we would please, to consult the taste of ou I hereby bind myself to dismiss as many of own day; neither would I have pelted you, them as, without sacrificing energy to sound, my dearest cousin, with any part of this volI can. It is incumbent upon me in the mean- ley of good reasons, had I not designed time to say something in justification of the them as an answer to those objections, which few that I shall retain, that I may not seem you say you have heard from others. But I a poet mounted rather on a mule than on only mention them. Though satisfactory to Pegasus. In the first place, The is a barba-myself, I waive them, and will allow to The rism. We are indebted for it to the Celts, his whole dimensions, whensoever it can be or the Goths, or to the Saxons, or perhaps to done. them all. In the two best languages that ever were spoken, the Greek and the Latin, there is no similar incumbrance of expression to be found. Secondly, the perpetual use of it in our language is, to us miserable poets, attended with two great inconveSoftly he placed his hand niences. Our verse consisting only of ten On th' old man's hand, and pushed it gently syllables, it not unfrequenly happens that the fifth part of a line is to be engrossed, and necessarily too, unless elision prevents it, by this abominable intruder, and, which is worse on my account, open vowels are continually the consequence-The element* Mr. Bagot had recently sustained the loss of his wife. 66 away." 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? I can say neither more nor less than this, that when our dear friend, the General, sent me his opinion on the specimen, quoting those very words from it, he added-" With this part I was particularly pleased: there is nothing in poetry more descriptive." Such were his very words. Taste, my dear, is various; there is nothing so various; and even between persons of the best taste there are diversities of opinion on the same subject, for which it is not possible to account. So much for these matters. You advise me to consult the General and to confide in him. I follow your advice, and have done both. By the last post I asked his permission to send him the books of my Homer, as fast as I should finish them off. I shall be glad of his remarks, and more glad, than of anything, to do that which I hope may be agreeable to him. They will of course pass into your hands before they are sent to Johnson. The quire that I sent is now in the hands of Johnson's friend. I intended to have told you in my last, but forgot it, that Johnson behaves very handsomely in the affair of my two volumes. He acts with a liberality not often found in persons of his occupation, and to mention it when occasion calls me to it is a justice due to him. I am very much pleased with Mr. Stanley's letter-several compliments were paid me on the subject of that first volume by my own friends, but I do not recollect that I ever knew the opinion of a stranger about it before, whether favorable or otherwise; I only heard by a side wind that it was very much read in Scotland, and more than here. Farewell, my dearest cousin, whom we expect, of whom we talk continually, and whom we continually long for. W. C. P. S. Your anxious wishes for my success delight me, and you may rest assured, my dear, that I have all the ambition on the subiect that you can wish me to feel. I more than admire my author. I often stand astonished at his beauties: I am forever amused with the translation of him, and I have received a thousand encouragements. These are all so many happy omens that I hope shall be verified by the event. I TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. Olney, March 13, 1786. My dear Friend,-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. could tell you things, that, knowing how much you interest yourself in my success, 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 more labor than at first. At the repeated solicitation of General Cowper, who had doubtless irrefragable reason on his side, I have put my book into the hands of the most extraordinary critic that I have ever heard of. He is a Swiss; has an accurate knowledge of English, and, for his knowledge of Homer, has I verily believe no fellow Johnson recommended him to me. I am to send him the quires as fast as I finish them off, and the first is now in his hands. I have the comfort to be able to tell you that he is very much pleased with what he has seen⚫ Johnson wrote to me lately on purpose to tell me so. Things having taken this turn, I fear that I must beg a release from my engagement to put the MS. into your hands. I am bound to print as soon as three hundred shall have subscribed, and consequently 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 THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.* Olney, April 1, 1786. My dear Friend, I have made you wait long for an answer, and am now obliged to write in a hurry. But, lest my longer silence should alarm you, hurried as I am, still I write. I told you, if I mistake not, that the circle of my correspondence has lately been enlarged, and it seems still increasing; which, together with my poetical business, makes an hour a momentous affair. Pardon an unintentional pun. You need not fear for my health: it suffers nothing by my employment. SO. We who in general see no company are at present in expectation of a great deal, at least, if three different visits may be called are preparing for a journey southward. She Mr. and Mrs. Powley, in the first place, is far from well, but thinks herself well enough to travel, and feels an affectionate impatience for another sight of Olney.+ the season shall turn up bright and warm, In the next place, we expect, as soon as General Cowper and his son. I have not seen him these twenty years and upwards, but our intercourse, having been lately revived, is like. ly to become closer, warmer, and more inti mate than ever. Lady Hesketh also comes down in June, and if she can be accommodated with anything in the shape of a dwelling at Olney, talks of making it always, in part, her summer resiIdence. It has pleased God that I should, like Joseph, be put into a well, and, because there are no Midianites in the way to deliver me, therefore my friends are coming down into the well to see me. I wish you, we both wish you, all happiness in your new habitation: at least you will be sure to find the situation more commodious. I thank you for all your hints concerning my work, which shall be duly at *Private correspondence. Mrs. Unwin's daughter. tended to. You may assure all whom it may The friends of Cowper were not without alarm at his engaging in so lengthened and perilous an undertaking as a new version of the Iliad, when the popular translation of Pope seemed to render such an attempt superfluous. To one of his correspondents, who urged this objection, he makes the following reply. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. I did, as you suppose, bestow all possible P. S. You may well wonder at my courage, who have undertaken a work of such enormous length. You would wonder more if you knew that I translated the whole Iliad with no other help than a Clavis. But I have since equipped myself better for this immense journey, and am revising the work in company with a good commentator. and one especially, whose discriminating taste and judgment conferred authority on his decision, Dr. Cyril Jackson (formerly the wellknown Dean of Christ Church, Oxford), concur in this opinion. But notwithstanding this redundance of artificial ornament, and the "labored elegance of polished version," the translation of Pope will perhaps always retain its pre-eminence, and be considered what Johnson calls it, "the noblest version of poetry which the world has ever seen," and "its publication one of the greatest events in the annals of learning."* Of the merits of Cowper's translation, we shall have occasion hereafter to speak. But it is due to the cause of sound criticism, and to the merited claims of his laborious undertaking, to declare that he who would wish to know and understand Homer must seek for him in the expressive and unadorned version of Cowper. In the course of the following letters we shall discover many interesting particulars of the progress of this undertaking. Cowper was now looking forward with great anxiety, to the promised visit of Lady Hesketh. The followiug letter adverts to the preparations making at the vicarage at Olney for her reception; and to her delicate mode of administering to his personal comforts and enjoyments. TO LADY HESKETH. Olney, April 17, 1786. My dearest Cousin,-If you will not quote Solomon, my dearest cousin, I will. He says, and as beautifully as truly-"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick, but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life!" I feel how much reason he had on his side when he made this observation, and am myself sick of your fortnight's delay. The vicarage was built by Lord Dartmouth, and was not finished till some time after we arrived at Olney, consequently it is new. It is a smart stone building, well sashed, by much too good for the living, but just what I would The motives which induced Cowper to engage in a new version of the Iliad originated in the conviction, that, however Pope's translation might be embellished with harmonious numbers, and all the charm and grace of poetic diction, it failed in being a correct and faithful representation of that immortal production. Its character is supposed to be just-wish for you. It has, as you justly concluded ly designated by its title of "Pope's Homer." from my premises, a garden, but rather calcu It is not the Homer of the heroic ages; it does lated for use than ornament. It is square, and not express his majesty-his unadorned, yet well walled, but has neither arbor nor alcove sublime simplicity. It is Homer in modern nor other shade, except the shadow of the costume, decked in a court dress, and in the house. But we have two gardens, which are trappings of refined taste aud fashion. His yours. Between your mansion and ours is insententious brevity, which possesses the art terposed nothing but an orchard, into which a of conveying much compressed in a short door, opening out of our garden, affords us space, is also expanded and dilated, till it re- the easiest communication imaginable, will sembles a paraphrase, and an imitation, rather save the round about by the town, and make than a just and accurate version of its ex- both houses one. Your chamber windows pressive and speaking original. We believe this to be the general estimate of the merits of Pope's translation. Profound scholars, *See Johnson's Life of Pope. The original manu script copy of Pope's translation is deposited in the British Museum. look over the river, and over the meadows, to a village called Embert on, 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 wil! 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. You are the first person for whom I have heard Mrs. Unwin express such feelings as she does for you. She is not profuse in professions, nor forward to enter into treaties of friendship with new faces, but when her friendship is once engaged, it may be confided in, even unto death. She loves you already, and how much more will she love you before this time twelvemonth! I have indeed endeavored to describe you to her, but, perfectly as I have you by heart, I am sensible that my picture cannot do you justice. I never saw one that did. Be you what you may, you are much beloved, and will be so at Olney, and Mrs. U. expects you with the pleasure that one feels at the return of a long absent, dear relation; that is to say, with a pleasure such as mine. She sends you her warmest affections. I On Friday, I received a letter from dear Anonymous, apprizing 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 De 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 not turn the paper about, that I might read it. Much as it would gratify me to thank him, I would turn my eyes away from the forbidden discovery. I long to assure him that those same eyes, concerning which he expresses such kind apprehensions, lest they should suffer by this laborious undertaking, are as well as I could expect them to be, if I were never to touch either book or pen. Subject to weakness and occasional slight inflammations t is probable that they will always be, but I cannot remember the time when they enjoyed anything so like an exemption from those infirmities as at present. One would almost suppose that reading Homer were the best ophthalmic in the world. I should be happy to remove his solicitude on the subject, but 't is a pleasure that he will not let me enjoy. *Hark! 'tis the twanging horn o'er yonder bridge That with its wearisome but needful length Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright. The Task, Book IV. Lady Hesketh adopted this delicate mode of extending her kindness to the Poet. Well then, I will be content without it; and so content, that though I believe you, my dear, to be in full possession of all this mys tery, you shall never know me, while you live either directly or by hints of any sort, attempt to extort or to steal the secret from you: I should think myself as justly punishable as the Bethshemites, for looking into the ark, which they were not allowed to touch. I have not sent for Kerr,* for Kerr can do nothing but send me to Bath, and to Bath 1 cannot go for a thousand reasons. The summer will set me up again; I grow fat every day, and shall be as big as Gog or Magog, or both put together, before you come. I did actually live three years with Mr. Chapman, a solicitor, that is to say, I slept three years in his house, but I lived, that is to say, I spent my days in Southampton Row, as you very well remember. There was I, and the future Lord Chancellor, constantly employed from morning to night in giggling and making giggle, instead of studying the law. O fie, cousin! how could you do so? I am pleased with Lord Thurlow's inquiries about me. If he takes it into that inimitable head of his, he may make a man of me yet. could love him heartily, if he would deserve it at my hands. That I did so once is certain. The Duchess of -, who in the world set her agoing? But if all the duchesses in the world were spinning, like so many whirligigs, for my benefit, I would not stop them. It is a noble thing to be a poet, it makes all the world so lively. I might have preached more sermons than even Tillotson did, and better, and the world would have been still fast asleep, but a volume of verse is a fiddle that puts the universe in motion. Yours, My dear friend and cousin, W. C. TO LADY HESKETH. Olney, April 24, 1786. I often tremble lest by accident I should be Your letters are so much my comfort, that disappointed; and the more because you have been, more than once, so engaged in company on the writing dav, that I have had a narrow escape. Let me give you a piece of good counsel, my cousin: follow my laudforelock in one hand, and a pen in the other, able example, write when you can, take time's and so make sure of your opportunity. It is well for me that you write faster than anybody, and more in an hour than 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, es pecially from you. Well! the middle of June * Dr. Kerr, of Northampton. |