the leaves of the Parnaffian laurel, and when a reafonable man would as little expect to fucceed in verse, as to hear a black-bird whistle. This must be my apology to you for whatever want of fire and animation you may obferve in what you will fhortly have the perufal of. As to the public, if they like me not, there is no remedy. A friend will weigh and confider all difadvantages, and make as large allowances as an author can wifh, and larger perhaps than he has any right to expect; but not fo the world at large; whatever they do not like, they will not by any apology be perfuaded to forgive, and it would be in vain to tell them that I wrote my verfes in January, for they would immediately reply, "why did. not you write them in May?" A question that might. puzzle a wiser head than we Poets are generally blessed with. I was informed by Mrs. Unwin that she strongly folicited her friend to devote his thoughts to poetry, of confiderable extent, on his recovery from his very long fit of mental dejection, fuggesting to him, at the same time, the first subject of his fong, "The Progress of Error!" which the reader will recollect as the fecond poem in his first volume. The time when that volume was completed, and the motives of its excellent author for giving it to the world, are clearly displayed in the following very interesting letter to his fair poetical cousin. LETTER XXXI. To Mrs. COWPER. MY DEAR COUSIN,. October 19, 1781. YOUR fear left I should think you unworthy of my correfpondence on account of your delay to answer, may change fides now, and more properly 22701GA belongs to me. It is long fince I received your laft, and yet I believe I can fay truly that not a poft has gone by me fince the receipt of it, that has not reminded me of the debt I owe you for your obliging and unreferved communications both in profe and verfe, efpecially for the latter, bécaufe I confider them as marks of your peculiar confidence. The truth is, I have been fuch a verfe maker myfelf, and fo bufy in preparing a volume for the prefs, which I imagine will make its appearance in the courfe of the winter, that I hardly had leisure to liften to the calls of any other engagement. It is however finished, and gone to the printer's, and I have nothing now to do with it, but to correct the fheets as they are fent to me, and confign it over to the judgment of the public. It is a bold undertaking at this time of day, when fo many writers of the greatest abilities have gone before, who feem to have anticipated every val uable fubject, as well as all the graces of poetical embellifhment, to ftep forth into the world in the character of a bard, efpecially when it is confidered that luxury, idle nefs, and vice have debauched the public tafte, and that nothing hardly is welcome, but childish fiction, or what has at least a tendency to excite a laugh. I thought however that I had ftumbled upon fome fubjects that had never before been poetically treated, and upon fome others, to which I imagined it would not be difficult to give an air of novelty, by the manner of treating them. My fole drift is to be useful; a point which, however, I knew I should in vain aim at, unless I could be likewife entertaining. I have therefore fixed these two strings upon my bow, and by the help of both have done my best to fend my arrow to the mark. My readers will hardly have begun to laugh, before they will be called upon to correct that levity, and peruse me with a more fericus air. As to the effect, I leave it alone in his hands who can alone produce it; neither profe nor verfe can reform the manners of a diffolute age, much lefs can they infpire a fenfe of religious obligation, unlefs affifted and made efficacious by the power who fuperintends the truth he has vouchfafed to impart. You made my heart ache with a fympathetic forrow, when you defcribed the state of your mind on occafion of your late vifit into Hartfordshire. Had I been previously informed of your journey before you made it, I fhould have been able to have foretold all your feelings. with the most unerring certainty of prediction. You will never cease to feel upon that subject, but with your principles of refignation and acquiefcence in the divine will, you will always feel as becomes a Chriftian. We are forbidden to murmur, but we are not forbidden to regret; and whom we loved tenderly while living, we may ftill pursue with an affectionate remembrance, without having any occafion to charge ourselves with rebellion against the Sovereignty that appointed a separation. A day is coming, when I am confident you will fee and know, that mercy to both parties was the principal agent in a scene, the recollection of which is still painful. Those who read what the Poet has here faid of his intended publication, may perhaps think it strange, that it was introduced to the world with a preface not written by himself, but by his friend, Mr. Newton. The circumstance is fingular; but it arose from two amiable peculiarities in the character of Cowper, his extreme diffidence in regard to himself, and his kind eagerness to gratify the affectionate ambition of a friend, whom he tenderly esteemed! Mr. Newton has avowed the fervency of this ambition in a very ingenuous and manly manner, and they must have little candour indeed, who are. difpofed to cavil at his alacrity in préfenting himfelf to the public as the 'bofom friend of that incomparable Author, whom he had attended fo 'faithfully in fickness and in forrow!—I hope it is no fin to covet honour ́as the friend of Cowper, for, if it is, I fear I may fay but too truly in the words of Shakespeare, "I am the most offending foul alive." Happy however if I may be able fo to conduct, and finifh this biographical compilation, that thofe, who knew and loved him beft, may be the most willing to applaud me as his friend: a title, that my heart prefers to all other diftinction ! The immediate fuccefs of his first volume was very far from being equal to its extraordinary merit. For fome time it feemed to be neglected by the public, although the first poem in the collection contains fuch a powerful image of its Author, as might be thought fufficient not only to excite attention, but to fecure attachment; for Cowper had undefignedly executed a masterly portrait of himself, in defcribing the true poet Fallude to the following verfes in "Table Talk.” Nature, exerting an unwearied power, Forms, opens, and gives fcent to every flower ; And charms the woodland fcenes, and wilds unknown But feldom (as if fearful of expenfe) Fancy, that from the bow that spans the fky Skill'd in the characters that form mankind; The concluding lines may be confidered as an omen of that celebrity, which fuch a writer, in the process of time, could not fail to obtain. Yet powerful as the claims of Cowper were to inftant admiration and ap plause, it must be allowed (as an apology for the inatten tion of the public) that he hazarded some sentiments in his first volume, which were very likely to obftruct its immediate fuccefs in the world. I particularly allude to his bold eulogy on Whitfield, whom the dramatic fatire of Foote, in his Comedy of the Minor, had taught the nation to deride as a mifchievous fanatic. I allude alfo to a little acrimonious cenfure, in which he had indulged himself, against one of Whitfield's devout rivals, Mr. Charles Wefley, for allowing facred mufic to form a part of his occupation in a Sunday evening. Suchpraife, and fuch reproof, bestowed on popular enthusi afts, might easily induce many careless readers, unac-. quainted with the fingular mildnefs and purity of character, that really belonged to the new Poet, to reject his book, without giving it a fair perufal, as the production |