of death. I had applied to him, requesting the sight of Letters that I knew he had been long in the habit of receiving from Cowper: my application, to my surprise and concern, found him sinking into a fatal illness; but he kindly intimated to a beloved Sister, a wish to comply with my request. To the fidelity of her affection towards a deserving Brother, I am indebted for the papers which I wished to see; and from which I have made such a selection, as I deem most consistent with the regard I owe to both the departed Poets. Their reciprocal esteem will reflect honour on both; and it is particularly pleasing to observe the candid and liberal spirit with which Cowper attended to the wishes, and encouraged the exertions of a young and modest writer, who was justly ambitious of his applause.

The date of his first Letter to the Author of the Village Curate, appears to claim an earlier place in this Work; but a variety of circumstances conspired so fix it here.

6IR,

LETTER I.

To the Revd. Mr. HURDIS.

Weston, March 6, 1791.

I have always entertained, and have occasionally

avowed, a great degree of respect for the abilities of the unknown

Author

author of the Village Curate, unknown at that time, but now wellknown, and not to me only, but to many. For before I was favoured with your obliging Letter, I knew your name, your place of abode, your profession, and that you had four Sisters; all which I learned neither from our Bookseller, nor from any of his connexions» you will perceive, therefore, that you are no longer an author incognito. The writer, indeed, of many passages, that have fallen from your pen, could not long continue so. Let genius, true genius, conceal itself where it may, we may say of it, as the young man in Terence of his beautiful mistress-" diu latere non potest."

I am obliged to you for your kind offers of service, and will not say that I shall not be troublesome to you hereafter; but at present I have no need to be so. I have within these two days given the very last stroke of my pen to my long Translation, and what will be my next career I know not. At any rate we shall not, I hope, hereafter be known to each other as Poets only: for your writings have made me ambitious of a nearer approach to you. Your door, however, will never be opened to me. My fate and fortune have combined with natural disposition, to draw a circle round me which I cannot pass; nor have I been more than thirteen miles from home these twenty years, and so far very seldom. younger man, and therefore, may not be quite so immoveable; in which case should you chuse at any time to move Weston-ward,

But you are a

you

you

will always find me happy to receive you; and in the mean time I remain with much respect,

Your most obedient servant, critic, and friend,

W. C.

P. S. I wish to know what you mean to do with Sir Thomas*, For though I expressed doubts about his theatrical possibilities, I think him a very respectable person, and with some improvement well worthy of being introduced to the public.

MY DEAR SIR,

LETTER II.

To the Revd. Mr. HURDIS.

Weston, June 13, 1791:

I ought to have thanked you for your agreeable and entertaining Letter much sooner; but I have many correspondents who will not be said, nay; and have been obliged of late to give my last attentions to Homer. The very last indeed, for yesterday I dispatched to Town, after revising them carefully, the proof sheets of subscribers' names; among which I took special notice of yours, and am much obliged to you for it. We have contrived, or rather my Bookseller and Printer have contrived (for they have never waited a moment for me) to publish as critically at the wrong time, as if my whole interest and success had de

pended

Sir Thomas More, a Tragedy.

pended on it. March, April, and May, said Johnson to me in a Letter that I received from him in February, are the best months for publication. Therefore now it is determined that Homer shall come out on the first of July; that is to say, exactly at the moment when, except a few Lawyers, not a creature will be left in Town who will ever care one farthing about him. To which of these two friends of mine I am indebted for this management, I know not. It does not please, but I would be a Philosopher as well as a Poet, and therefore make no complaint or grumble at all about it. You, I presume, have had dealings with them both-how did they manage for you? And if as they have for me, how did you behave under it? Some who love me, complain that I am too passive; and I should be glad of an opportunity to justify myself by your example. The fact is, should I thunder ever so loud, no efforts of that sort will avail me now; therefore like a good economist of my bolts, I choose to reserve them for more profitable occasions.

I am glad to find that your amusements have been so similar to mine; for in this instance too I seemed to have need of somebody to keep me in countenance, especially in my attention and attachment to animals. All the notice that we lords of the creation vouchsafe to bestow on the creatures, is generally to abuse them; it is well, therefore, that here and there a man should be found a little womanish, or perhaps a little childish in this matter, who will make some amends, by kissing and coaxing, and laying them in one's bosom. You remember the little ewe lamb, mentioned by

VOL. II.

C

the

the Prophet Nathan; the Prophet perhaps invented the tale for the sake of its application to David's conscience; but it is more probable, that God inspired him with it for that purpose. If he did, it amounts to a proof, that he does not over-look, but on the contrary, much notices such little partialities and kindnesses to his dumb creatures, as we, because we articulate, are pleased to call them.

Your Sisters are fitter to judge than I, whether assemblyrooms are the places, of all others, in which the ladies may be studied to most advantage. I am an old fellow, but I had once my dancing days, as you have now, yet I could never find that I learned half so much of a woman's real character by dancing with her, as by conversing with her at home, where I could observe her behaviour at the table, at the fire side, and in all the trying circumstances of domestic life. We are all good when we are pleased, but she is the good woman who wants not a fiddle to sweeten her. If I am wrong, the young ladies will set me right; in the mean time I will not teaze you with graver arguments on the subject, especially as I have a hope, that years, and the study of the Scripture, and His Spirit, whose word it is, will, in due time, bring you to my way of thinking. I am not one of those sages who require that young men should be, as old as themselves, before they have had time to be so..

With my love to your fair Sisters, I remain, dear Sir,