Οι αρετης εφιέμενοι παντες ετι και νυν διατελέσι παντων μαλιστα ποθέντες εκείνον, ως ωφελιμωταλον οντα προς αξέτης επιμελειαν. XENOPHON. THE active and powerful mind of Cowper wanted no long interval of rest after finishing the work of five laborious years. On the contrary, he very soon began to feel, that regular hours of mental exertion were effentially requifite to his comfort and welfare. That extraordinary proficient in the knowledge of human nature, Lord Bacon, has inferted in his lift of articles conducive to health, (for his own use) one article, that may appear, at first sight, little fuited to fuch a purpose, "Heroic defires!" If we understand by this expression what he probably intended, a constant inclination and care to employ cur faculties fervently and steadily on some grand object of laudable purfuit, perVOL. II. B haps the whole Materia Medica could have furnished him with nothing so likely to promote the preservation of health; especially in a frame diftinguished by nerves of the most delicate and dangerous sensibility. Cowper was himself aware of this truth, and he was looking deliberately around him for fome new literary object of magnitude and importance, when his thoughts were directed to Milton, by an unexpected application from the literary merchant with whom he had correfponded, occafionally, for fome years: and with whom his acquaintance, though confined to letters of business, had ripened into a cordial esteem. The great Author of the Rambler (intimately acquainted with all the troubles that are too apt to attend the votaries of literature) has faid, "That a bookfeller is the only Mæcenas of the modern world." Without assenting to all the eulogy and all the fatire implied in this remarkable sentiment, we may take a pleasure in observing, that in the class of men so magnificently and sportively commended, there are several individuals, each of whom a writer of the most delicate manners and exalted mind, may justly esteem as a pleasing associate, and as a liberal friend. In this light Cowper regarded his bookseller, Mr. Johnfon, to whom he had literally given the two volumes of his Poems, with that modeft and generous fimplicity of spirit, which formed a striking part of his character. He entertained no presumptuous ideas of their pecuniary value; and when the just applause of the world had fufficiently proved it, he nobly declined the idea of refuming a gift, which the probity of his merchant would have allowed him to recall. He was, however, fo pleased by this, and by subsequent proofs of liberality in the conduct of Mr. Johnfon, that on being folicited by him to embark in the adventure of preparing a magnificent edition of Milton, he readily entered into the project; and began those admirable translations from the Latin and Italian poetry of Milton, which I have formerly mentioned in print, and to which I hope to render more justice, by a plan of devoting them to the purpose of raiting a Monument to their Author :A plan upon which I shall apply to the favour of the public in the close of these volumes. As it is to Milton that I am in a great meafure indebted for what I must ever regard as a fignal bleffing, the friendship of Cowper! the reader will pardon me for dwelling a little on the circumstances that produced it: circumstances which often lead me to repeat those sweet verses of my friend on the cafual origin of our most valuable attachments! Mysterious are his ways, whose power These charming verses strike with peculiar force on my heart, when I recollect, that it was an idle endeavour to make us enemies, which gave rise to our intimacy, and that I was providentially conducted to Weston at a feafon when my prefence there afforded peculiar comfort to my affectionate friend, under the pressure of a domeftic affliction, which threatened to overwhelm his very tender spirits. The entreaty of many perfons, whom I wished to oblige, had engaged me to write a Life of Milton, before I had the flightest suspicion that my work could interfere with the projects of any man; but I was foon furprized and concerned in hearing that I was reprefented in a newspaper, as an antagonist of Cowper. I immediately wrote to him on the subject, and our correfpondence foon endeared us to each other, in no common degree. The feries of his letters to me I value not only as memorials of a most dear and honourable friendship, but as exquifite examples of epistolary excellence. My pride might affuredly be gratified by inserting them all, as I have been requested to do, in this publication; but, I trust, I am influenced by a proper sense of duty towards my dear departed friend, in withholding them, at prefent, from the eye of the public. The truth is, I feel that the extreme sensibility of my affectionate correfpondent, led him, very frequently, to speak of me in such terms of tender partiality, that the world must not be expected to forgive him for fo overrating even the merit of a friend, till that friend is sharing with him the hallowed rest of grave. In the mean time my readers, I hope, will approve my confining myself to fuch a felection from them, as appears to me necessary for the completion of this narrative; which I seize every opportunity of embellishing with numerous letters to his other correfpondents. It is time to refume the feries of fuch letters; and in doing so I embrace, with a melancholy gratification, an opportunity of paying tender respect to the memory of a fcholar and a poet, who in 1791, folicited and obtained the regard of Cowper, and faw him for the first time at Eartham in the following year. - I speak of the late Profefsor of Poetry, the Reverend James Hurdis; a man whose death must be lamented as peculiarly unfeafonable, did not piety suggest to the perfons most deeply afflicted, by a loss so little expected, that it is irrational and irreligious to repine at those decrees of Heaven, which fummon to early beatitude the most deserving of its ferAs this exemplary divine was tenderly idolized vants. by several accomplished sisters, it may be hoped, that his collected works will be republished by some member of his family, with a memorial of the learned, elegant, and moral writer, adapted to the extent and variety of his merit. My intercourse with him was brief indeed, but terminated with expreffions of kindness, when every kind syllable derives an affecting power, from the approach of death. I had applied to him, requesting the fight 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 finking into a fatal illness; but he kindly intimated to a beloved fister, a wish to comply with my request. To the fidelity of her affection towards a deferving brother, I am indebted for the papers which I wished to fee; and from which I have made fuch a selection, as I deem most confiftent 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 applaufe. 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 confpired to fix it here. SIR, LETTER I. To the Rev. Mr. HURDIS. WESTON, March 6, 1791. I HAVE always entertained, and have occafionally avowed, a great degree of respect for the abilities of the unknown author of the Village Curate, unknown at that time, but now well-known, and not to me only, but to many. For before I was favoured with your B 2 |