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a mob appeared before the window; a smart rap was heard at the door, the boys hallooed, and the maid announced Mr. G——. Puss* was unfortunately let out of her box, so that the candidate, with all his good friends at his heels, was refused admittance at the grand entry, and referred to the back-door, as the only possible way of approach.

Candidates are creatures not very susceptible of affronts, and would rather, I suppose, climb in at a window than be abso

what petulance in Pope! How painfully sensible of censure, and yet how restless in provocation! To what mean artifices could Addison stoop, in hopes of injuring the reputation of his friend! Savage, how sordidly vicious! and the more condemned for the pains that are taken to palliate his vices. Offensive as they appear through a veil, how would they disgust without one! What a sycophant to the public taste was Dryden; sinning against his feelings, lewd in his writings, though chaste in his conversation. Ilutely excluded. In a minute, the yard, the know not but one might search these eight volumes with a candle, as the prophet says, to find a man, and not find one, unless perhaps Arbuthnot were he. I shall begin Beattie this evening, and propose to myself much satisfaction in reading him. In him at least I shall find a man whose faculties have now and then a glimpse from heaven upon them; a man, not indeed in possession of much evangelical light, but faithful to what he has, and never neglecting an opportunity to use it! How much more respectable such a character than that of thousands who would call him blind, and yet have not the grace to practise half his virtues! He too is a poet and wrote the Minstrel. The specimens which I have seen of it pleased me much. If you have the whole, I should be glad to read it. I may perhaps, since you allow me the liberty, indulge myself here and there with a marginal annotation, but shall not use that allowance wantonly, so as to deface the volumes.

kitchen, and the parlor were filled. Mr. G- -, advancing toward me, shook me by the hand with a degree of cordiality that was extremely seducing. As soon as he and as many more as could find chairs were seated, he began to open the intent of his visit. I told him I had no vote, for which he readily gave me credit. I assured him I had no influence, which he was not equally inclined to believe, and the less, no doubt, because Mr. A, addressing himself to me at that moment, informed me that I had a great deal. Supposing that I could not be possessed of such a treasure without knowing it, I ventured to confirm my first assertion, by saying that if I had any, I was utterly at a loss to imagine where it could be, or wherein it consisted. Thus ended the conference. Mr. G-squeezed me by the hand again, kissed the ladies, and withdrew. He kissed likewise the maid in the kitchen, and seemed upon the whole a most loving, kissing, kindhearted gentleman. He is very young, genteel, and handsome. He has a pair of very good eyes in his head, which not being suflicient as it should seem for the many nice and difficult purposes of a senator, he has a third also, which he wore suspended by a My dear Friend, It being his majesty's ribbon from his button-hole. The boys halpleasure that I should yet have another op- looed, the dogs barked, Puss scampered, the portunity to write before he dissolves the hero, with his long train of obsequious folparliament, I avail myself of it with all pos-lowers, withdrew. We made ourselves very sible alacrity. I thank you for your last, which was not the less welcome for coming, like an extraordinary gazette, at a time when it was not expected.

Yours, my dear William,

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

W. C.

Olney, March 29, 1784.

As, when the sea is uncommonly agitated, the water finds its way into creeks and holes of rocks, which in its calmer state it never reaches, in like manner the effect of these turbulent times is felt even at Orchard-side, where in general we live as undisturbed by the political element as shrimps or cockles, that have been accidentally deposited in some hollow beyond the water-mark, by the usual dashing of the waves. We were sitting yesterday after dinner, the two ladies and myself, very composedly, and without the least apprehension of any such intrusion in our snug parlor, one lady knitting, the other netting, and the gentleman winding worsted, when, to our unspeakable surprise,

merry with the adventure, and in a short time settled into our former tranquillity, never probably to be thus interrupted more. I thought myself however happy in being able to affirm truly that I had not that influ ence for which he sued, and for which, had I been possessed of it, with my present views of the dispute between the Crown and the Commons, I must have refused him, for he is on the side of the former. It is comfortable to be of no consequence in a world, where one cannot exercise any without disobliging somebody.

The town however seems to be much at his service, and, if he be equally successful throughout the county, he will undoubtedly gain his election. Mr.

A

-, perhaps, was a little mortified, be

*His tame hare.

We have already stated that Mr. Pitt was frequently outvoted at this time in the House of Commons, but,

being supported by the king, did not choose to resign.

cause it was evident that I owed the honor of this visit to his misrepresentation of my importance. But had he thought proper to assure Mr. G-— that I had three heads, I should not I suppose have been bound to produce them.

Mr. S―, who you say was so much admired in your pulpit, would be equally admired in his own, at least by all capable judges, were he not so apt to be angry with his congregation. This hurts him, and, had he the understanding and eloquence of Paul himself, would still hurt him. He seldom, hardly ever, indeed, preaches a gentle, welltempered sermon, but I hear it highly commended: but warmth of temper, indulged to a degree that may be called scolding, defeats the end of preaching. It is a misapplication of his powers, which it also cripples, and teases away his hearers. But he is a good man, and may perhaps outgrow it.

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We have already alluded to this awful catastrophe, which occurred Feb. 5, 1783, though the shocks of earthquake continued to be felt sensibly, but less violently, tib May 23rd. The motions of the earth are described as having been various, either whirling like a vortex, horizontally, or by pulsations and beatings from the bottom upwards; the rains continual and violent, often accompanied with lightning and irregular and furious gusts of wind. The sum total of the mortality in Calabria and Sicily, by the earthquakes alone, as returned to the Secretary of State's office, in Naples, was 32,367; and, including other casualties, was estimated at 40,000.*

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

People that are but little acquainted with the terrors of divine wrath, are not much Olney, April 5, 1784. afraid of trifling with their Maker. But, for My dear William,-I thanked you in my my own part, I would sooner take Empedo-last for Johnson; I now thank you with more cle's leap, and fling myself into Mount Etna emphasis for Beattie, the most agreeable and than I would do it in the slightest instance, amiable writer I ever met with--the only auwere I in circumstances to make an election. thor I have seen whose critical and philoIn the scripture we find a broad and clear ex-sophical researches are diversified and embel hibition of mercy; it is displayed in every page. Wrath is, in comparison, but slightly touched upon, because it is not so much a discovery of wrath as of forgiveness. But, had the displeasure of God been the principal subject of the book, and had it circumstantially set forth that measure of it only which may be endured even in this life, the Christian world perhaps would have been less comfortable; but I believe presumptuous meddlers with the gospel would have been less frequently met with. The word is a flaming sword; and he that touches it with unhallowed fingers, thinking to make a tool of it, will find that he has burned them.

lished by a poetical imagination, that makes even the driest subject and the leanest a feast for an epicure in books. He is so much at his case, too, that his own character appears in every page, and, which is very rare, we see not only the writer but the man; and that man so gentle, so well-tempered, so happy in his religion, and so humane in his philosophy, that it is necessary to love him if one has any sense of what is lovely. If you have not his poem called the Minstrel, and cannot borrow it, I must beg you to buy it for me: for, though I cannot afford to deal largely in so expensive a commodity as books, I must afford to purchase at least the poetical works What havoc in Calabria! Every house is of Beattie. I have read six of Blair's Lecbuilt upon the sand, whose inhabitants have tures, and what do I say of Blair? That he no God or only a false one. Solid and fluid is a sensible man, master of his subject, and, are such in respect to each other; but with excepting here and there a Scotticism, a good reference to the divine power they are equal-writer, so far at least as perspicuity of expres ly fixed or equally unstable. The inhabitants of a rock shall sink, while a cock-boat shall save a man alive in the midst of the fathomless ocean. The Pope grants dispensations for folly and madness during the carnival. But it seems they are as offensive to him, whose vicegerent he pretends himself, at that season as at any other. Were I a Calabrian, I would not give my papa at Rome one farthing for his amplest indulgence, from this

sion and method contribute to make one. But, O the sterility of that man's faney! if indeed he has any such faculty belonging to him. Perhaps philosophers, or men designed for such, are sometimes born without one; or perhaps it withers for want of exercise. However that may be, Dr. Blair has such a brain as Shakspeare somewhere describes

*Sce Sir William Hamilton's account of this awful

event.

-"dry as the remainder biscuit after a voyage."*

I take it for granted, that these good men are philosophically correct (for they are both agreed upon the subject) in their account of the origin of language; and, if the Scripture had left us in the dark upon that article, I should very readily adopt their hypothesis for want of better information. I should suppose, for instance, that man made his first effort in speech, in the way of an interjection, and that ah! or oh! being uttered with wonderful gesticulation, and variety of attitude, must have left his powers of expression quite exhausted: that in a course of time he would invent many names for many things, but first for the objects of his daily wants. An apple would consequently be called an apple, and perhaps not many years would elapse before the appellation would receive the sanction of general use. In this case, and upon this supposition, seeing one in the hand of another man, he would exclaim, with a most moving pathos, "Oh apple !"-well and good-oh apple! is a very affecting speech, but in the meantime it profits him nothing. The man that holds it, eats it, and he goes away with Oh apple in his mouth, and with nothing better. Reflecting on his disappointment, and that perhaps it arose from his not being more explicit, he contrives a term to denote his idea of transfer or gratuitous communication, and, the next occasion that offers of a similar kind, performs his part accordingly. His speech now stands thus, "Oh give apple!" The apple-holder perceives himself called on to part with his fruit, and having satisfied his own hunger, is perhaps not unwilling to do so. But unfortunately there is still room for a mistake, and a third person being present he gives the apple to him. Again disappointed, and again perceiving that his language has not all the precision that is requisite, the orator retires to his study, and there, after much deep thinking, conceives that the insertion of a pronoun, whose office shall be to signify that he not only wants the apple to be given, but given to himself, will remedy all defects, he uses it the next opportunity, and succeeds to a wonder, obtains the apple, and by his success, such credit to his invention, that pronouns continue to be in great repute ever after. Now, as my two syllable-mongers, Beattie and Blair, both agree that language was originally inspired, and that the great variety of Languages we find upon earth at present took its rise from the confusion of tongues at

• This criticism on Blair's Lectures seems to be too #evere. There was a period when his Sermons were among the most admired productions of the day; sixty thousand copies, it was said, were sold. They formed the standard of divinity fifty years ago: but they are now justly considered to be decient, in not exhibiting the great and flamental truths of the Gospel, and to be merely entitled to the praise of being a beautiful system

of ethics.

Babel, I am not perfectly convinced that there is any just occasion to invent this very ingenious solution of a difficulty which Scripture has solved already. My opinion, however, is, if I may presume to have an opinion of my own, so different from theirs, who are so much wiser than myself, that, if a man had been his own teacher, and had acquired his words and his phrases only as necessity or convenience had prompted, his progress must have been considerably slower than it was, and in Homer's days the production of such a poem as the Iliad impossible. On the contrary, I doubt not Adam, on the very day of his creation, was able to express himself in terms both forcible and elegant, and that he was at no loss for sublime diction and logical combination, when he wanted to praise his Maker. Yours, my dear friend,

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

W. C.

Olney, April 15, 1784. My dear William,-I wish I had both burning words and bright thoughts. But I have at present neither. My head is not itself. Having had an unpleasant night and a melancholy day, and having already written a long letter, I do not find myself in point of spirits at all qualified either to burn or shine. The post sets out early on Tuesday. The morning is the only time of exercise with me. order therefore to keep it open for that purpose, and to comply with your desire of an immediate answer, I give you as much as I can spare of the present evening.

In

Since I despatched my last, Blair has crept a little farther into my favor. As his subjects improve, he improves with them; but upon the whole I account him a dry writer, useful no doubt as an instructor, but as little entertaining as, with so much knowledge, it is possible to be. His language is (except Swift's) the least figurative I remember to have seen, and the few figures found in it are not always happily employed. I take him to be a critic very little animated by what he reads, who rather reasons about the beauties of an author than really tastes them, and who finds that a passage is praiseworthy, not because it charms him, but because it is accommodated to the laws of criticism in that case made and provided. I have a little complied with your desire of marginal annotations, and should have dealt in them more largely had I read the books to myself; but, being reader to the ladies, I have not always time to settle my own opinion of a doubtful expression, much less to suggest an emendation. I have not censured a particular observation in the book, though, when I met with it, it displeased me. I this moment recollect it, and may as well therefore note

....

it here. He is commending, and deservedly, that most noble description of a thunderstorm in the first Georgie, which ends with Ingeminant austri et densissimus imber. Being in haste, I do not refer to the volume for his very words, but my memory will serve me with the matter. When poets describe, he says, they should always select such circumstances of the subject as are least obvious, and therefore most striking. He therefore admires the effects of the thunderbolt, splitting mountains, and filling a nation with astonishment, but quarrels with the closing member of the period, as containing particulars of a storm not worthy of Virgil's notice, because obvious to the notice of all. But here I differ from him; not being able to conceive that wind and rain can be improper in the description of a tempest, or how wind and rain could possibly be more poetically described. Virgil is indeed remarkable for finishing his periods well, and never comes to a stop but with the most consummate dignity of numbers and expression, and in the instance in question I think his skill in this respect is remarkably displayed. The line is perfectly majestic in its march. As to the wind, it is such only as the word ingeminant could describe and the words densissimus imber give one an idea of a shower indeed, but of such a shower as is not very common, and such a one as only Virgil could have done justice to by a single epithet. Far therefore from agreeing with the Doctor in his stricture, I do not think the Eneid contains a nobler line, or a description more magnificently fin

ished.

We are glad that Dr. C has singled you out upon this occasion. Your performance we doubt not will justify his choice: fear not, you have a heart that can feel upon charitable occasions, and therefore will not fail you upon this. The burning words will come fast enough when the sensibility is such as yours.

Yours, my dear friend,

W. C.

The ingenuity and humor of the following verses as well as their poetical merit, give them a just claim to admiration.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.*

Olney, April 25, 1784.

My dear William,-Thanks for the fish, with its companion, a lobster, which we mean

to eat to-morrow.

TO THE IMMORTAL MEMORY OF THE HALYBUTT ON

Lost in th' immensity of ocean's waste?
Roar as they might the overbearing winds
That rock'd the deep, thy cradle, thou wast safe.
And in thy minikin and embryo state,
Attach'd to the firm leaf of some salt weed,
The joints of many a stout and gallant bark,
Didst outlive tempests such as wrung and rack'd
And whelm'd them in the unexplored abyss.
Indebted to no magnet and no chart,
Nor under guidance of the polar fire,
Thou wast a voyager on many coasts,
Grazing at large in meadows submarine,
Where flat Batavia, just emerging, peeps
Above the brine-where Caledonia's rocks
Her wondrous causeway far into the main.
Beat back the surge-and where Hibernia shoots
Wherever thou hast fed, thou little thought'st,
And I not more, that I should feed on thee.
Peace, therefore, and good health, and much
good fish,

To him who sent thee! and success as oft
As it descends into the billowy gulf, [well!
Thy lot, thy brethren of the slimy fin
To the same drag that caught thee!-Fare thee
Would envy, could they know that thou wast
[doom'd
To feed a bard, and to be praised in verse.

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

Olney, April 26, 1784. We are glad that your book runs. It will not indeed satisfy those whom nothing could satisfy but your accession to their party; but the liberal will say you do well, and it is in the opinion of such men only that you can feel yourself interested.

I have lately been employed in reading Beattie and Blair's Lectures. The latter I have not yet finished. I find the former the most agreeable of the two, indeed the most entertaining writer upon dry subjects I ever met with. His imagination is highly poetical, his language easy and elegant, and his manner so familiar that we seem to be conversing with an old friend upon terms of the most sociable intercourse while we read him. Blair is on the contrary rather stiff, not that his style is pedantic, but his air is formal. He is a sensible man, and understands his subjects, but too conscious that he is addressing the public, and too solicitous about his success, to indulge himself for a moment in that play of fancy which makes the other so agreeable. In Blair we find a scholar, in Beattie both a scholar and an amiable man, indeed so amiable that I have wished for his acquaintance ever since I read his book. Having never in my life perused a page of Aristotle, I am glad to have had an opportunity of learning more than (I suppose) he

WHICH I DINED THIS DAY, MONDAY, APRIL 26, Would have taught me, from the writings of

1784.

Where hast thou floated, in what seas pursued Thy pastime? when wast thou an egg newspawn'd

* Private correspondence.

two modern critics. I felt myself too a little disposed to compliment my own acumen upon the occasion. For, though the art of writing and composing was never much my study, I did not find that they had any great news to

LIFE OF COWPER.

tell me. They have assisted me in putting my observations into some method, but have not suggested many of which I was not by some means or other previously apprized. In fact, critics did not originally beget authors, but authors made critics. Common sense dietated to writers the necessity of method, connexion, and thoughts congruous to the nature of their subject; genius prompted them with embellishments, and then came the critics. Observing the good effects of an attention to these items, they enacted laws for the observance of them in time to come, and, having drawn their rules for good writing from what was actually well written, boasted themselves the inventors of an art which yet the authors of the day had already exemplified. They are however useful in their way, giving us at one view a map of the boundaries which propriety sets to fancy, and serving as judges to whom the public may at once appeal, when pestered with the vagaries of those who have had the hardiness to transgress them.

The canditades for this county have set an example of economy which other candidates would do well to follow, having come to an agreement on both sides to defray the expenses of their voters, but to open no houses for the entertainment of the rabble; a reform however, which the rabble did not at all approve of, and testified their dislike of it by a riot. A stage was built, from which the orators had designed to harangue the electors. This became the first victim of their fury. Having very little curiosity to hear what gentlemen could say who would give them nothing better than words, they broke it in pieces, and threw the fragments upon the hustings. The sheriff, the members, the lawyers, the voters, were instantly put to flight. They rallied, but were again routed by a second assault like the former. They then proceeded to break the windows of the inn to which they had fled; and a fear prevailing that at night they would fire the town, a proposal was made by the freeholders to face about, and endeavor to secure them. At that instant a rioter, dressed in a merry Andrew's jacket, stepped forward and challenged the best man among them. Olney sent the hero to the field, who made him repent of his was he. Seizing presumption: Mr. Ahim by the throat, he shook him-he threw laim to the earth, he made the hollowness of his scull resound by the application of his fists, and dragged him into custody without the least damage to his person. Animated by this example, the other freeholders folLowed it, and in five minutes twenty-eight out of thirty ragamuffins were safely lodged in gaol. Adieu my dear friend.

We love you, and are yours,

W. & M.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.
Olney, May 3, 1784.
My dear Friend,-The subject of face-
painting may be considered (I think) in two
points of view. First, there is room for dis-
pute with respect to the consistency of the
practice with good morals; and, secondly,
whether it be on the whole convenient or not
may be a matter worthy of agitation. I set
out with all the formality of logical disquisi-
tion, but do not promise to observe the same
regularity any farther than it may comport
with my purpose of writing as fast as I can.

As to the immorality of the custom, were
Irin France, I should see none. On the con-
trary, it seems in that country to be a symp-
tom of modest consciousness and a tacit con-
fession of what all know to be true, that
This humble acknowl-
French faces have in fact neither red nor
white of their own.
edgment of a defect looks the more like a
Again, before we
virtue, being found among a people not re-
markable for humility.
can prove the practice to be immoral, we
must prove immorality in the design of those
who use it; either, that they intend a decep-
tion or to kindle unlawful desires in the be-
holders. But the French ladies, as far as
their purpose comes in question, must be ac-
quitted of both these charges. Nobody sup-
poses their color to be natural for a moment,
any more than if it were blue or green: and
this unambiguous judgment of the matter
is owing to two causes; first, to the universal
knowledge we have that French women are
naturally brown or yellow, with very few
exceptions, and, secondly, to the inartificial
manner in which they paint: for they do not,
as I am satisfactorily informed, even attempt
an imitation of nature, but besmear them-
selves hastily and at a venture, anxious only
to lay on enough. Where, therefore, there
is no wanton intention nor a wish to deceive,
I can discover no immorality. But in Eng-
land (I am afraid) our painted ladies are not
clearly entitled to the same apology. They
even imitate nature with such exactness that
the whole public is sometimes divided into
parties, who litigate with great warmth the
question, whether painted or not. This was
remarkably the case with a Miss B-
whom I well remember. Her roses and lilies
were never discovered to be spurious till she
attained an age that made the supposition of
their being natural impossible. This anxiety
to be not merely red and white, which is all
they aim at in France, but to be thought very
beautiful and much more beautiful than na-
ture has made them, is a symptom not very
favorable to the idea we would wish to en-
tertain of the chastity, purity, and modesty of
our countrywomen. That they are guilty of
a design to deceive is certain; otherwise, why
so much art? and if to deceive, wherefore

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