pretty close observer, and, though not always right, is often so.

.ately endured a terrible operation, is a strong proof that your sex surpasses ours in heroic fortitude. I call it by that name, In the affair of Milton I will have no hor because I verily believe, that in God's ac- rida bella if I can help it.* It is at least my count, there is more true heroism in suffer- present purpose to avoid them, if possible ing his will with meek submission than in For which reason, unless I should soon see doing our own, or that of our fellow-mortals occasion to alter my plan, I shall confine who may have a right to command us, with myself merely to the business of an annothe utmost valor that was ever exhibited in tator, which is my proper province, and shal a field of battle. Renown and glory are, in sift out of Warton's notes every tittle that general, the incitements to such exertions; relates to the private character, political or but no laurels are to be won by sitting pa- religious principles, of my author. These tiently under the knife of a surgeon. The are properly subjects for a biographer's handvirtue is, therefore, of a less suspicious char-ling, but by no means, as it seems to me, for acter; the principle of it more simple, and a commentator's. the practice more difficult;-considerations In answer to your question, if I have had that seem sufficiently to warrant my opinion, a correspondence with the Chancellor, I rethat the infallible Judge of human conduct ply-yes. We exchanged three or four letmay possibly behold with more complacency ters on the subject of Homer, or rather on a suffering than an active courage. the subject of my Preface. He was doubtful whether or not my preference of blank verse, as affording opportunity for a closer version, was well founded. On this subject he wished to be convinced; defended rhyme with much learning, and much shrewd rea soning; but at last allowed me the honor of the victory, expressing himself in these words:-"I am clearly convinced that Homer may be best rendered in blank verse, and you have succeeded in the passages that I have looked into."

I forget if I told you that I am engaged for a new edition of Milton's Poems. In fact, I have still other engagements, and so various, that I hardly know to which of them all to give my first attentions. I have only time, therefore, to condole with you on the double loss you have lately sustained, and to congratulate you on being female; because, as such, you will, I trust, acquit yourself well under so severe a trial.

I remain, my dear madam,
Most sincerely yours,

W. C.

10 THE REV. WALTER BAGOT.
Weston-Underwood, Feb. 14, 1792.

My dear Friend,-It is the only advantage
I believe, that they who love each other de-
rive from living at a distance, that the news
of such ills as may happen to either seldom
reaches the other till the cause of complaint
is over. Had I been your next neighbor, I
should have suffered with you during the
whole indisposition of your two children and
your own.
As it is, I have nothing to do
but to rejoice in your own recovery and
theirs, which I do sincerely, and wish only
to learn from yourself that it is complete.

I thank you for suggesting the omission of the line due to the helmet of Achilles. How the omission happened I know not, whether by my fault or the printer's; it is ecrtain, however, that I had translated it, and I have now given it its proper place.

I purpose to keep back a second edition ill I have had opportunity to avail myself of the remarks of both friends and strangers. The ordeal of criticism still awaits me in the reviews, and probably they will all in their turn mark many things that may be mended. By the Gentleman's Magazine I have already profited in several instances. My reviewer here, though favorable in the main, is a

TO THOMAS PARK, ESQ.
Weston-Underwood, Feb. 19, 1792.

Dear Sir,-Yesterday evening your parcel came safe to hand, containing the "Cursory Remarks," "Fletcher's Faithful Shepherdesse," and your kind letter, for all which I am much obliged to you.

Everything that relates to Milton must be welcome to an editor of him and I am so unconnected with the learned world, that, unless assistance seeks me, I am not very likely to find it. Fletcher's work was not in my possession; nor, indeed, was I possessed of any other, when I engaged in this under

* He alludes to the dispute between Boydell and Fuseli the painter.

taking, that could serve me much in the per-
formance of it. The various untoward inci-
dents of a very singular life have deprived
me of a valuable collection, partly inherited
from my father, partly from my bro her,
and partly made by myself; so that I have
at present fewer books than any man ought
to have who writes for the public, especially
who assumes the character of an editor. At
the present moment, however, I find myself
tolerably well provided for this occasion by
the kindness of a few friends, who have not
been backward to pick from their shelves but I have always allowed myself to trifle oc-
Trifling enough I readily confess they are:
everything that they thought might be use-casionally; and on this occasion had not, nor
ful to me. I am happy to be able to num- have at present, time to do more. By the
ber you among these friendly contributors.
way, should you think this amended copy
You will add a considerable obligation to worthy to displace the former, I must wait
those you have already conferred, if you will for some future opportunity to send you them
be so good as to furnish me with such no-
properly transcribed for the purpose.
tices of your own as you offer. Parallel
passages, or, at least, a striking similarity of
expression, is always worthy of remark; and
I shall reprint, I believe, all Mr. Warton's
notes of that kind, except such as are rather
trivial, and some, perhaps, that are a little
whimsical, and except that I shall diminish
the number of his referer ces, which are not
seldom redundant. Where a word only is
in question, and that, perhaps, not an uncom-
mon one in the days of Milton, his use of it
proves little or nothing; for it is possible
that authors writing on similar subjects may
use the same words by mere accident. Bor-
rowing seems to imply poverty, and of pov-
erty I can rather suspect any man than Mil-
ton. But I have as yet determined nothing
absolutely concerning the mode of my com-
mentary, having hitherto been altogether
busied in the translation of his Latin poems.nization, and the manner of conducting it, has
These I have finished, and shall immediately long been matter to us of pleasing speculation.
proceed to a version of the Italian. They, God has highly honored Mr. Thornton; and 1
being few, will not detain me long; and, doubt not that the subsequent history of the
when they are done, will leave me at full two settlements will strikingly evince the su-
liberty to deliberate on the main business, perior wisdom of his proceedings.‡
and to plan and methodise my operations.
Yours,

Your demand of more original composition from me will, if I live, and it please God to afford me health, in all probability be sooner or later gratified. In the mean time, you need not, and, if you turn the matter in you: need not, think me unworthily employed in thoughts a little, you will perceive that you preparing a new edition of Milton. His two principal poems are of a kind that call for an editor who believes the gospel and is well grounded in all evangelical doctrine. Such an editor they have never had yet, though only such a one can be qualified for the office.

We mourn for the mismanagement at Botany Bay, and foresee the issue. The Romans were, in their origin, banditti; and if they became in time masters of the world, it was not by drinking grog, and allowing themselves in all sorts of licentiousness. The African colo

W. C.

P.S. Lady Hesketh made the same objec tion to my verses as you; but, she being a lady-critic, I did not heed her. As they stand at present, however, they are hers; and I believe you will think them much improved.

I shall be always happy in, and account myself honored by, your communications, and hope that our correspondence thus begun will not terminate in limine primo.

I am, my dear sir, with much respect,
Your most obliged and humble servant,
W. C.

them down in a great hurry.* Perhaps I printed them wrong. If a full stop be made at the end of the second line, the appearance of inconsistency, perhaps, will vanish; but should you still think them liable to that objection, they may be altered thus:

In vain to live from age to age
We modern bards endeavor;

But write in Patty's book one page,†
You gain your point forever.

* Mrs. Martha More had requested Cowper to furnish a contribution to her collection of autographs. The result appears in the sequel of this letter.

In the present edition of the Poems the lines stand thus, on a farther suggestion of Lady Hesketh's

In vain to live from age to age,
While modern bards endeavor,
I write my name in Patty's page,
And gain my point for ever.
W. COWPER.

March 6, 1792.

This alludes to the new colony for liberated Africans, at Sierra Leone; in the origin of which Mr. Henry Thorn ton and Mr. Zachary Macauley were mainly instrumental For interesting accounts of this colony, see the "Mission ary Register of the Church Missionary Society." passim.

George, now Mr. Courtenay,* intends to re-person at my elbow, witnessing what I do side there: and, with him, as with his elder and I ask myself frequently-Would this brother, I have always been on terms the please him? If I think it would, it stands: most agreeable. if otherwise, I alter it. My work is thus fin

I am, my dear madam

Such is this variable scene: so variable that,ished, as it were, under the eye of some of had the reflections I sometimes make upon it the best judges, and has the better chance to a permanent influence, I should tremble at the win their approbation when they actually thought of a new connexion, and, to be out of see it. the reach of its mutability, lead almost the ife of a hermit. It is well with those who, ike you, have God for their companion. Death cannot deprive them of Him, and he changes not the place of his abode. Other changes, therefore, to them are all supportable; and what you say of your own experience is the strongest possible proof of it. Had you lived without God, you could not have endured the loss you mention. May He preserve me from a similar one; at least, till he shall be pleased to draw me to himself again? Then, if ever that day come, it will make me equal to any burden; but at present I can bear nothing well. W. C.

I am sincerely yours,

TO THOMAS PARK, ESQ.

Weston-Underwood, March 10, 1792. Dear Sir,-You will have more candor, as I hope and believe, than to impute my delay to answer your kind and friendly letter to inattention or want of a cordial respect for the writer of it. To suppose any such cause and me. The truth is, I am a very busy man, of my silence were injustice both to yourself and cannot gratify myself with writing to my friends so punctually as I wish.

You have not in the least fallen in my esteem on account of your employment,* as you seemed to apprehend that you might. It is an elegant one, and, when you speak modestly, as you do, of your proficiency in it, I am far from giving you entire credit for the whole assertion. I had indeed supposed you a person of independent fortune, who had nothing to do but to gratify himself; and whose mind, being happily addicted to literature, was at full leisure to enjoy its innocent amusement. But it seems I was mistaken, and your time is principally due to an art which has a right pretty much to engross your attention, and which gives rather the

I am extremely sorry that you have been so much indisposed, and especially that your indisposition has been attended with such ex-air of an intrigue to your intercourse and cessive pain. But may I be permitted to ob- familiarity with the muses than a lawful conserve, that your going to church on Christ- nexion. No matter: I am not prudish in this mas-day, immediately after such a sharp fit respect, but honor you the more for a passion, of rheumatism, was not according to the virtuous and laudable in itself; and which wisdom with which I believe you to be en- you indulge not, I dare say, without benefit dued, nor was it acting so charitably toward to yourself and your acquaintance. I, for yourself as I am persuaded you would have one, am likely to reap the fruit of your acted toward another. To another you amours, and ought therefore, to be one of would, I doubt not, have suggested that text the last to quarrel with them. "I will have mercy and not sacrifice," as implying a gracious dispensation, in circumstances like yours, from the practice of so severe and dangerous a service.

You are in danger, I perceive, of thinking of me more highly than you ought to think

Mrs. Unwin, I thank God, is better, but still wants much of complete restoration. We have reached a time of life when heavy blows, if not fatal, are at least long felt.

I have received many testimonies concerning my Homer, which do me much honor, and afford me great satisfaction; but none from which I derive, or have reason to derive, more than that of Mr. Martyn. It is of great use to me, when I write, to suppose some such

TO MRS. KING.†
Weston, March 8, 1792.

My dear Madam,-Having just finished all my Miltonic translations, and not yet begun my comments, I find an interval that cannot be better employed than in discharging arrears due to my correspondents, of whom begin first a letter to you, though your claim be of less ancient standing than those of all the rest.

I

Affectionately yours, W. C.

* Afterwards Sir George Throckmorton. + Private correspondence.

* Mezzotinto engraving. Mr. Park, in early youth, fluc tuated in the choice between the sister arts of poetry music, and painting, and composed the following fires to

record the result.

By fancy warm'd, I seiz'd the quill,
And poetry the strain inspir'd;

Music improv'd it by her skill,

Till I with both their charms was fir'd.

Won by the graces each display'd,
Their younger sister I forgot;
Though first to her my vows were paid,-
By fate or choice it matters not.
She, jealous of their rival powers,

And to repay the injury done,
Condemn'd me through life's future hours,
All to admire, but wed with none.

T. P.