again." It may be so-I can subscribe to the former part of his assertion from my own experience, having never found an amusement, among the many I have been obliged to have recourse to, that so well answered the purpose for which I used it. The quieting and composing effect of it was such, and so totally absorbed have I sometimes been in my rhyming occupation, that neither the past nor the future (those themes which to me are so fruitful in regret at other times,) had any longer a share in my contemplation. For this reason, I wish, and have often wished, since the fit left me, that it would seize me again; but hitherto I have wished it in vain. I see no want of subjects, but I feel a total disability to discuss them. Whether it is thus with other writers or not, I am ignorant, but I should suppose my case in this respect a little peculiar. The voluminous writers, at least, whose vein of fancy seems always to have been rich in proportion to their occasions, cannot have been so unlike, and so unequal to themselves. There is this difference between my poetship and the generality of them, they have been ignorant how much they have stood indebted to an Almighty power, for the exercise of those talents they have supposed their own. Whereas I know, and know most perfectly, and am perhaps to be taught it to the last, that my power to think, whatever it be, and consequently my power to compose, is, as much as my outward form, afforded to me by the same hand that makes me, in any respect, to differ from a brute. This lesson, if not constantly inculcated, might perhaps be forgotten, or at least too slightly remembered.

W. C.

"Caraccioli* appears to me to have been a wise man, and I believe he was a good man, in a religious sense. But his wisdom and his goodness both savour more of the Philosopher than the Christian. In the latter of these characters, he seems defective principally in this-that instead of sending his reader to God, as an inexhaustible source of happiness to

which The Letters of Ganganelli, Clement XIV, are the most esteemed, and, for a length of time, were received as the genuine production of that pontiff.

* These cursory remarks of Cowper appear highly worthy of prescrvation. They were written on separate scraps of paper, without any title, and find perhaps their most suitable place as a sequel to the letter in which he quoted the writer, whose character he has here sketched at full length, and with a masterly hand.

his intelligent creatures, and exhorting him to cultivate communion with his Maker, he directs him to his own heart, and to the contemplation of his own faculties and powers, as a never failing spring of comfort and content. He speaks even of the natural man as made in the image of God, and supposes a resemblance of God to consist in a sort of independent selfsufficing, and self-complacent felicity, which can hardly be enjoyed, without the forfeiture of all humility, and a flat denial of some of the most important truths in Scripture.

"As a Philosopher, he refines to an excess, and his arguments. instead of convincing others, if pushed as far as they would go, would convict him of absurdity himself. When, for instance, he would depreciate earthly riches by telling us, that gold and diamonds are only matter modified in a particular way, and thence concludes them not more valuable in themselves than the dust under our feet, his consequence is false, and his cause is hurt by the assertion. It is that very modification that gives them both a beauty and a value—a value and a beauty recognized in Scripture, and by the universal consent of all well informed and civilized nations. It is in vain to tell mankind, that gold and dirt are equal, so long as their experience convinces them of the contrary. It is necessary, therefore, to distinguish between the thing itself and the abuse of it. Wealth is in fact a blessing, when honestly acquired, and conscientiously employed: and when otherwise, the man is to be blamed, and not his treasure. How does the Scripture combat the vice of covetousness? not by asserting, that gold is only earth exhibiting itself to us under a particular modification, and therefore not worth seeking; but by telling us, that covetousness is idolatry, that the love of money is the root of all evil, that it has occasioned in some even the shipwreck of their faith, and is always, in whomsoever it obtains, an abomination.

"A man might have said to Caraccioli, Give me your purse full of ducats, and I will give you my old wig; they are both composed of the same matter, under different modifications. What could the philosopher have replied? he must have made the exchange, or have denied his own principles.* "Again, when, speaking of sumptuous edifices, he calls a palace an assemblage of sticks and stones, which a puff of

* This also is "erring in extremes." The philosopher might have said, without denying his principles, "True, but at present I need the one, and not the other modification: therefore do you retain your old wig-I shall my ducats."

wind may demolish, or a spark of fire consume; and thinks he has reduced a magnificent building and a cottage to the same level, when he has told us, that the latter viewed through an optic glass, may be made to appear as large as the former, and that the former seen through the same glass inverted, may be reduced to the pitiful dimensions of the latter,—has he indeed carried his point? is he not rather imposing on the judgment of his readers, just as the glass would impose upon their senses? How is it possible to deduce a substantial argument in this case, from an acknowledged deception of the sight? The objects continue what they were the palace is still a palace, and the cottage is not at all ennobled in reality though we contemplate them ever so long through an illusive medium. There is, in fact, a real difference between them, and such a one as the Scripture itself takes very emphatical notice of, assuring us, that, in the last day, much shall be required of him to whom much was given; that every man shall be then considered as a steward, and render a strict account of the things with which he was intrusted. This consideration, indeed, may make the dwellers in palaces tremble, who, living for the most part in the continued abuse of their talents, squandering, and wasting, and spending upon themselves their Master's treasure, will have reason enough to envy the cottager, whose accounts will be more easily settled. But to tell mankind that a palace and a hovel are the same thing, is to affront their senses, to contradict their knowledge, and to disgust their understandings.

"Herein seems to consist one of the principal differences between philosophy and Scripture, or the wisdom of man and the wisdom of God. The former endeavours, indeed, to convince the judgment, but it frequently is obliged to have recourse to unlawful means, such as misrepresentation, and the play of fancy. The latter addresses itself to the judgment likewise, but it carries its point by awakening the conscience, by enlightening the understanding, and by appealing to our own experience. As philosophy, therefore, cannot make a Christian, so a Christian ought to take care that he be not too much a philosopher. It is mere folly, instead of wisdom, to forego those arguments, and to shut our eyes upon those motives, which truth itself has pointed out to us, and which alone are adequate to the purpose; and to busy ourselves in making vain experiments on the strength of others, of our own invention. In fact, the world which, however it has dared to controvert the authenticity of Scripture, has never

been able to impeach the wisdom of its precepts or the reasonableness of its exhortations, has sagacity enough to see through the fallacy of such reasonings, and will rather laugh at the sage, who declares war against matter of fact, than become proselytes to his opinion.”

94. TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

PREFACE TO HIS POEMS DIGNITY OF AUTHORSHIP

February 24, 1782.

MY DEAR FRIEND,- If I should receive a letter from you to-morrow, you must still remember that I am not in your debt, having paid you by anticipation. Knowing that you take an interest in my publication, and that you have waited for it with some impatience, I write to inform you that, if it is possible for a printer to be punctual, I shall come forth on the first of March. I have ordered two copies to Stock; one for Mr John Unwin. It is possible, after all, that my book may come forth without a preface. Mr Newton has written (he could indeed write no other) a very sensible as well as a very friendly one; and it is printed. But the bookseller, who knows him well, and esteems him highly, is anxious to have it cancelled, and, with my consent first obtained, has offered to negociate that matter with the author. He judges, that, though it would serve to recommend the volume to the religious, it would disgust the profane, and that there is in reality no need of a preface at all.* I have found Johnson a very judicious man on other occasions, and am therefore willing that he should determine for me upon this.

There are but few persons to whom I present my book. The Lord Chancellor is one. I enclose in a packet I send by this post to Johnson a letter to his Lordship which will accompany the volume; and to you I enclose a copy of it, because I know you will have a friendly curiosity to see it. An author is an important character. Whatever his merits may be, the mere circumstance of authorship warrants his approach to persons whom otherwise perhaps he could hardly address without being deemed impertinent. He can do me no good. If I should happen to do him a little, I shall be a greater man than he. I have ordered a copy likewise to Mr S.

* The bookseller was perfectly right. Newton's preface is, in all respects, an injudicious composition, as an introduction to Cowper's Poems.

I hope John continues to be pleased, and to give pleasure. If he loves instruction, he has a tutor who can give him plentifully of what he loves; and with his natural abilities his progress must be such as you would wish. - Yours,

W. C.

ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING, AND ACCOMPANYING A COPY OF THE FIRST VOLUME OF THE AUTHOR'S POEMS.

OLNEY, BUCKS, February 25, 1782.

MY LORD, I make no apology for what I account a duty. I should offend against the cordiality of our former friendship should I send a volume into the world, and forget how much I am bound to pay my particular respects to your Lordship upon that occasion. When we parted, you little thought of hearing from me again; and I as little that I should live to write to you, still less, that I should wait on you in the capacity of an author.

Among the pieces I have the honour to send, there is one for which I must intreat your pardon. I mean that of which your lordship is the subject. The best excuse I can make. is, that it flowed almost spontaneously from the affectionate remembrance of a connection that did me so much honour.*

As to the rest, their merits, if they have any, and their defects, which are probably more than I am aware of, will neither of them escape your notice. But where there is much discernment, there is generally much candour; and I commit myself into your lordship's hands with the less anxiety, being well acquainted with yours.

If my first visit, after so long an interval, should prove neither a troublesome nor a dull one, but especially, if not altogether an unprofitable one, omne tuli punctum.

I have the honour to be, though with very different impressions of some subjects, yet with the same sentiments of affection and esteem as ever, your Lordship's faithful, and most obedient, humble servant, W. C.