W. C. I would heartily second the bishop of Salisbury | Italian poems, and to give a correct text. I shall in recommending to you a close pursuit of your have years allowed me to do it in. Hebrew studies, were it not that I wish you to publish what I may understand. Do both, and I shall be satisfied. Your remarks, if I may but receive them soon enough to serve me in case of a new edition, will be extremely welcome.. W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Sept. 21, 1791. Or all the testimonies in favour of my Homer that I have received, none has given me so sincere a pleasure as that of Lord Bagot. It is an unmixed pleasure and without a drawback: because I know him to be perfectly, and in all reMY DEAREST JOHNNY, Weston, Aug. 9, 1791. spects, whether erudition, or a fine taste be in THE little that I have heard about Homer my-question, so well qualified to judge me, that I can self has been equally, or more flattering than Dr. neither expect nor wish a sentence more valuable TO JOHN JOHNSON, ESQ. -'s intelligence, so that I have good reason than his sou' αυτμη Ἐν στήθεσσι μενεί, και μοι φίλα γενα το φρουρείο to hope that I have not studied the old Grecian, and how to dress him, so long, and so intensely, to no purpose. At present I am idle, both on account of my eyes, and because I know not to what I hope by this time you have received your vo to attach myself in particular. Many different lumes, and are prepared to second the applauses plans and projects are recommended to me. Some of your brother-else, wo be to you! I wrote to call aloud for original verse, others for more trans-Johnson immediately on the receipt of your last, lation, and others for other things. Providence, I giving him a strict injunction to despatch them to hope, will direct me in my choice; for other guide you without delay. He had sold some time since I have none, nor wish for another. a hundred of the unsubscribed-for copies. God bless you, my dearest Johnny. W. C.* TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. I have not a history in the world except Baker's Chronicle, and that I borrowed three years ago from Mr. Throckmorton. Now the case is this; I am translating Milton's third Elegy-his Elegy on the death of the Bishop of Winchester. He MY DEAR FRIEND, The Lodge, Sept. 14, 1791. begins it with saying that while he was sitting WHOEVER reviews me will in fact have a labo-alone, dejected, and musing on many melancholy rious task of it, in the performance of which he themes; first, the idea of the plague presented itought to move leisurely, and to exercise much self to his mind, and of the havoc made by it critical discernment. In the mean time my cou- among the great.-Then he proceeds thus; rage is kept up by the arrival of such testimonies in my favour, as give me the greatest pleasure; coming from quarters the most respectable. I have reason therefore to hope that our periodical judges will not be very adverse to me, and that perhaps they may even favour me. If one man I can not learn from my only oracle, Baker, whe of taste and letters is pleased, another man so qualified can hardly be displeased; and if critics of a different description grumble, they will not however materially hurt me. Tum memini clarique ducis, fratrisque verendi Et memini Heroum, quos vidit ad æthera raptos. this famous leader and his reverend brother were. Neither does he at all ascertain for me the event alluded to in the second of these couplets. I am not yet possessed of Warton, who probably exYou, who know how necessary it is to me to be plains it, nor can be for a month to come. Conemployed, will be glad to hear that I have been sult him for me if you have him, or if you have called to a new literary engagement, and that I him not consult some other. Or you may find have not refused it. A Milton that is to rival, the intelligence perhaps in your own budget; no and if possible to exceed in splendour Boydell's matter how you come by it, only send it to me if Shakspeare, is in contemplation, and I am in the you can, and as soon as you can, for I hate to editor's office. Fuseli is the painter. My busi- leave unsolved difficulties behind me. In the ness will be to select notes from others, and to first year of Charles the First, Milton was sevenwrite original notes; to translate the Latin and teen years of age, and then wrote this Elegy. The period therefore to which I would refer • The translation alluded to in this letter was that of the you, is the two or three last years of James the Latin and Italian poetry of Milton, which Cowper was reFirst. quested by his bookseller to undertake. Ever yours, W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. MY DEAR FRIEND, Weston, Oct. 25, 1791. TO JOHN JOHNSON, ESQ. 1 MY DEAR JOHNNY, Weston, Oct. 31, 1791. YOUR unexpected and transient visit, like every YOUR kind and affectionate letter well deserves thing else that is past, has now the appearance of my thanks, and should have had them long ago, a dream; but it was a pleasant one, and I heartily had I not been obliged lately to give my attention wish that such dreams could recur more frequent to a mountain of unanswered letters, which I have ly. Your brother Chester repeated his visit yes- just now reduced to a molehill; yours lay at the terday, and I never saw him in better spirits. At bottom, and I have at last worked my way down such times he has, now and then, the very look to it. that he had when he was a boy; and when I see It gives me great pleasure that you have found it, I seem to be a boy myself, and entirely forget a house to your minds. May you all three be for a short moment the years that have intervened happier in it than the happiest that ever occupied since I was one. The look that I mean is one it before you! But my chief delight of all is to that you, I dare say, have observed.—Then we learn that you and Kitty are so completely cured are at Westminster again. He left with me that of your long and threatening maladies. I always poem of your brother Lord Bagot's, which was thought highly of Dr. Kerr, but his extraordinary mentioned when you were here. It was a treat success in your two instances has even inspired to me, and I read it to my cousin Lady Hesketh me with an affection for him. and to Mrs. Unwin, to whom it was a treat also. It has great sweetness of numbers, and much elegance of expression, and is just such a poem as I should be happy to have composed myself about a year ago, when I was loudly called upon by a certain nobleman, to celebrate the beauties of his villa. But I had two insurmountable difficulties to contend with. One was, that I had never seen his villa; and the other, that I had no eyes at that time for any thing but Homer. Should I at any time hereafter undertake the task, I shall now at least know how to go about it, which, till I had seen Lord Bagot's poem, I verily did not. I was particularly charmed with the parody of those beautiful lines of Milton. "The song was partial, but the harmony- There's a parenthesis for you! The parenthesis My eyes are much better than when I wrote last, though seldom perfectly well many days together. At this season of the year I catch perpetual colds, and shall continue to do so, till I have got the better of that tenderness of habit with which the summer never fails to affect me. I am glad that you have heard well of my work in your country. Sufficient proofs have reached me from various quarters, that I have not ploughed the field of Troy in vain. Were you here I would gratify you with an enumeration of particulars; but since you are not, it must content you to be told, that I have every reason to be satisfied. Mrs. Unwin, I think, in her letter to cousin Balls, made mention of my new engagement. I have just entered on it, and therefore can at present say little about it. It is a very creditable one in itself; and may 1 but acquit myself of it with sufficiency, it will do me honour. The commentator's part however is a new one to me, and one that I little thought to appear in. Remember your promise, that I shall see you in the spring. The Hall has been full of company ever since you went, and at present my Catharina is there singing and playing like an angel. W.C. TO JOSEPH HILL, ESQ. I would beat Warton if he were living, for supposing that Milton ever repented of his compliment to the memory of Bishop Andrews. I neither do, nor can, nor will believe it. Milton's mind could not be narrowed by any thing; and though he quarrelled with episcopacy in the church of England idea of it, I am persuaded that I HAVE waited and wished for your opinion with a good bishop, as well as any other good man, of the feelings that belong to the value I have for it, whatsoever rank or order, had always a share of and am very happy to find it so favourable. In his veneration. Yours, my dear friend, my table drawer I treasure up a bundle of suffrages, sent me by those of whose approbation I was Very affectionately, W. C. Nov. 14, 1791. most ambitious, and shall presently insert yours have done in one instance, even a little against the bias of my own opinion. among them. εγω δε κεν αυτος ελωμαι Έλθων συν πλεονεσσι I know not why we should quarrel with compound epithets; it is certain at least they are as agreeable to the genius of our language as to that of the Greek, which is sufficiently proved by their The sense I had given of these words is the sense being admitted into our common and colloquial in which an old scholiast has understood them, as dialect. Black-eyed, nut-brown, crook-shanked, appears in Clarke's note in loco. Clarke indeed hump-backed, are all compound epithets, and, to- prefers the other, but it does not appear plain to gether with a thousand other such, are used con- me that he does it with good reason against the tinually, even by those who profess a dislike to judgment of a very ancient commentator, and a such combinations in poetry. Why then do they Grecian. And I am the rather inclined to this treat with so much familiarity a thing that they persuasion, because Achilles himself seems to have say disgusts them? I doubt if they could give this apprehended that Agamemnon would not content question a reasonable answer; unless they should himself with Briseïs only, when he says, answer it by confessing themselves unreasonable. But I have other precious things on board, I have made a considerable progress in the transOf these take none away without my leave, &c. lation of Milton's Latin poems. I give them, as opportunity offers, all the variety of measure that It is certain that the words are ambiguous, and I can. Some I render in heroic rhyme, some in that the sense of them depends altogether on the stanzas, some in seven, and some in eight syllable punctuation. But I am always under the correcmeasure, and some in blank verse. They will, tion of so able a critic as your neighbour, and altogether, I hope, make an agreeable miscellany have altered, as I say, my version accordingly. for the English reader. They are certainly good in themselves, and can not fail to please, but by the fault of their translator. W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT, Weston-Underwood, Dec. 5, 1791. MY DEAR FRIEND, As to Milton, the die is cast. I am engaged, have bargained with Johnson, and can not recede. I should otherwise have been glad to do as you advise, to make the translation of his Latin and Italian, part of another volume; for, with such an addition, I have nearly as much verse in my budget as would be required for the purpose. This squabble, in the mean time, between Fuseli and Boydell, does not interest me at all; let it terminate as it may, I have only to perform my job, and leave the event to be decided by the combatants. Suave mari magno turbantibus æquora ventis Your last brought me two cordials; for what can better deserve that name than the cordial approbation of two such readers as your brother, the bishop, and your good friend and neighbour, the clergyman? The former I have ever esteemed and honoured with the justest cause, and am as ready to honour and esteem the latter as you can wish me to be, and as his virtues and talents de-yours, serve. Do I hate a parson? Heaven forbid! I love you all when you are good for any thing; and Why should you suppose that I did not admire as to the rest, I would mend them if I could, the poem you showed me? I did admire it, and and that is the worst of my intentions towards told you so, but you carried it off in your pocket, them. and so doing, left me to forget it, and without the means of inquiry. I heard above a month since, that this first edition of my work was at that time nearly sold. It I am thus nimble in answering, merely with a will no. therefore, I presume, be long before I must view to ensure myself the receipt of other rego to press again. This I mention merely from an marks in time for a new impression. earnest desire to avail myself of all other strictures, that either your good neighbour, Lord Bagot, the bishop, or yourself, πάντων εκπαγλοτατ' ανδρων, TO THE REV. MR. HURDIS. may happen to have made, and will be so good as I AM much obliged to you for wishing that to favour me with. Those of the good Evander were employed in some original work rather thar contained in your last have served me well, and I in translation. To tell you the truth, I am of have already, in the three different places referred your mind; and unless I could find another Hoto, accommodated the text to them. And this I mer, I shall promise (I believe) and vow, when I 1 have done with Milton, never to translate again. that the news of such ills as may happen to either But my veneration for our great countryman is seldom reaches the other, till the cause of comequal to what I feel for the Grecian; and conse-plaint is over. Had I been next neighbour I quently I am happy, and feel myself honourably should have suffered with you during the whole employed whatever I do for Milton. I am now indisposition of your two children and your own. translating his Epitaphium Damonis, a pastoral | As it is, I have nothing to do but to rejoice in in my judgment equal to any of Virgil's Bucolics, your own recovery and theirs, which I do sincerebut of which Dr. Johnson (so it pleased him) ly, and wish only to learn from yourself that it is speaks, as I remember, contemptuously. But he complete.. who never saw any beauty in a rural scene was I thank you for suggesting the omission of the not likely to have much taste for a pastoral. In line due to the helmet of Achilles. How the omispace quiescat! sion happened I know not, whether by my fault I was charmed with your friendly offer to be or the printer's; it is certain however that I had my advocate with the public; should I want one, translated it, and I have now given it its proper I know not where I could find a better. The re-place. viewer in the Gentleman's Magazine grows more I purpose to keep back a second edition, till I and more civil. Should he continue to sweeten at have had, an opportunity to avail myself of the rethis rate, as he proceeds, I know not what will be-marks both of friends and strangers. The ordeal come of all the little modesty I have left. I have of criticism still awaits me in the reviews, and availed myself of some of his strictures, for I wish to learn from every body. W. C. TO SAMUEL ROSE, ESQ. MY DEAR FRIEND, The Lodge, Dec. 21, 1791. It gives me, after having indulged a little hope that I might see you in the holidays, to be obliged to disappoint myself. The occasion too, is such as will ensure me your sympathy. probably they will all in their turn mark many things that may be mended. By the Gentleman's Magazine I have already profited in several instances. My reviewer there, though favourable in the main, is a pretty close observer, and though not always right, is often so. In the affair of Milton I will have no horrida bella, if I can help it. It is at least my present purpose to avoid them if possible. For which reason, unless I should soon see occasion to alter my plan, I shall confine myself merely to the busiOn Saturday last, while I was at my desk, near ness of an annotator, which is my proper province, the window, and Mrs. Unwin at the fire-side op- and shall sift out of Warton's notes every tittle posite to it, I heard her suddenly exclaim, "Oh! that relates to the private character, political or Mr. Cowper, don't let me fall!" I turned and saw religious principles of my author. These are proher actually falling together with her chair, and perly subjects for a biographer's handling, but by started to her side just in time to prevent her. She no means, as it seems to me, for a commentawas seized with a violent giddiness, which lasted, tor's. though with some abatement, the whole day, and In answer to your question if I have had a corwas attended too with some other very, very alarm- respondence with the Chancellor-I reply—yes. ing symptoms. At present however she is relieved We exchanged three or four letters on the subject from the vertigo, and seems in all respects better. of Homer, or rather on the subject of my Preface. She has been my faithful and affectionate nurse He was doubtful whether or not my preference for many years, and consequently has a claim on of blank verse, as affording opportunity for a closer all my attentions. She has them, and will have version, was well founded. On this subject he them as long as she wants them; which will pro-wished to be convinced; defended rhyme with bably be, at the best a considerable time to come. I much learning, and much shrewd reasoning, but feel the shock, as you may suppose, in every nerve. at last allowed me the honour of the victory, exGod grant that there may be no repetition of it. Another such a stroke upon her would, I think, overset me completely; but at present I hold up bravely. W. C. TO THE REV. WALTER BAGOT. MY DEAR FRIEND, It is the only advantage I believe that they who love each other derive from living at a distance, pressing himself in these words:-I am clearly convinced that Homer may be best rendered in blank verse, and you have succeeded in the passages that I have looked into. Thus it is when a wise man differs in opinion. Such a man will be candid; and conviction, not triumph, will be his object. Adieu! The hard name I gave you I take to myself, and am your ἐκπαγλότατος, W C. TO THE LORD THURLOW. MY LORD, TO THE LORD THURLOW. MY LORD, We are of one mind as to the agreeable effect of rhyme or euphony in the lighter kinds of poetry. A LETTER reached me yesterday from Henry Cowper, enclosing another from your Lordship to himself, of which a passage in my work formed the subject. It gave me the greatest pleasure; your stric-of an octave. But surely that word is only figuratures are perfectly just, and here follows the speech tively applied to modern poetry: euphony seems of Achilles accommodated to them * to be the highest term it will bear. I have fancied I did not expect to find your Lordship on the also, that euphony is an impression derived a good side of rhvme, remembering well with how much deal from habit, rather than suggested by nature: therefore in some degree accidental, and conseenergy and interest I have heard you repeat pas- quently conventional. Else why can't we bear a sages from the Paradise Lost, which you could drama with rhyme; or the French one without not have recited as you did, unless you had been it? Suppose the Rape of the Lock, Windsor perfectly sensible of their music.. It comforts me Forest, L'Allegro, Il Penseroso, and many other therefore to know that if you have an ear for which might easily be done, would they please as poems which please, stripped of the rhyme, rhyme you have an ear for blank verse also. well? it would be unfair to treat rondeaus, ballads, and odes in the same manner, because rhyme makes in some sort a part of the conceit.. It was this way of thinking, which made me suppose, that habitual prejudice would miss the rhyme: and that neither Dryden nor Pope would have dared to give their great authors in blank verse. It seems to me that I may justly complain of rhyme as an inconvenience in translation, even though I assert in the sequel that to me it has been easier to rhyme than to write without, because I always suppose a rhyming translator to famble, and always obliged to do so. Yet I allow your Lordship's version of this speech of Achilles to be very close, and closer much than mine. But I believe that should either your Lordship or I give them burnish or elevation, your lines would be found, in measure as they acquired stateliness, to have lost the merit of fidelity. In which case nothing more would be done than Pope has done already. little I wondered to hear you say you thought rhyme easier in original compositions; but you explained it, that you could go further a-field, if you were pushed for want of a rhyme. An expression preferred for the sake of the rhyme looks as if it were worth more than you allow. But to be sure in translation the necessity of rhyme imposes very heavy fetters upon those who mean translation, not paraphrase. Our common heroic metre is enough; the pure iambic, bearing only a sparing introduction of spondees, trochees, &c. to vary the mea sure. I can not ask your Lordship to proceed in your strictures, though I should be happy to receive Mere translation I take to be impossible, if no more of them. Perhaps it is possible that when metre were required. But the difference of iambic you retire into the country, you may now and then and heroic measure destroys that at once. It is amuse yourself with my Translation. Should your dead language, and an ancient author, which also impossible to obtain the same sense from a remarks reach me, I promise faithfully that they those of his own time and country conceived; shall be all most welcome, not only as yours, but words and phrases contract, from time and use, because I am sure my work will be the better for them. With sincere and fervent wishes for your Lordship's health and happiness, I remain, my Lord, &c. W. C.* * TO WILLIAM COWPER, ESQ. From Lord Thurlow. DEAR COWPER, such strong shades of difference from their original import. In a living language, with the familiarity of a whole life, it is not easy to conceive truly the actual sense of current expressions; much less of older authors. No two languages furnish equipollent words; their phrases differ, their syntax and their idioms still more widely. But a translation strictly so called requires an exact conformity in all those particulars, and also in numbers: therefore it is impossible. I really think at present, notwithstanding the opinion expressed in your Preface, that a translator asks himself a good quesON coming to town this morning, I was sur-tion. How would my author have expressed the prised, particularly at receiving from you an an- sentence, I am turning, in English? for every idea swer to a scrawl I sent Harry, which I have forgot conveyed in the original should be expressed in too much to resume now. But I think I could English, as literally, and fully, as the genius, and not mean to patronise rhyme. I have fancied, use, and character of the language will admit of. that it was introduced to mark the measure in In the passage before us arra was the fondling indern languages, because they are less numer-expression of childhood to its parent; and to those ous and metrical than the ancient; and the name who first translated the lines conveyed feelingly seems to import as much. Perhaps there was that amiable sentiment. Iga expressed the remelody in ancient song, without straining it to verence which naturally accrues to age. musical notes; as the common Greek pronuncia- An implies an history. Hospitality was tion is said to have had the compass of five parts an article of religion, strangers were supposed to |