me in a moderate manner; some allowance is due to human frailty; but if I carry my grief to excess, I must bear to be told, that my natural affection is too strong for my reason, much more for my faith. Reason, by a thousand undeniable arguments, is ready to prove, that what cannot be remedied, must be submitted to with the utmost equanimity: and Faith, were it lively and active, would open the regions of eternal bliss, and discover those, who have been bright examples in this world, in so glorious a state there, as would animate my hope, abate my regret for their absence, and invigorate my endeavours to follow them. Who can conceive that transport of joy which will attend such a meeting? and how insignificant will the former short separation then appear! Indeed, madam, there was a time when I possessed one, who was the desire of my eyes, and the delight of my heart. I relished everything with her, and nothing without her. We both knew the common fate of mankind, that a parting was unavoidable. It was very often the subject of our discourse. I will not say what convulsions attended it; but, I thank God! I had the hope of a Christian; and that supported me. And let you and me keep up our spirits, in this confidence, that the variable and transitory state in which we now live, will soon pass away; and then, we and our friends shall find ourselves together again, inseparably and unalterably happy for ever! I am, madam, Your affectionate and JOHN WORCESTER. MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS. Dr. Johnson to the Right Honourable the Earl of Ches MY LORD, terfield. February, 1755. I HAVE been lately informed by the proprietor of the World, that two papers, in which my Dictionary is recommended to the public, were written by your lordship. To be so distinguished is an honour which, being very little accustomed to favours from the great, I know not well how to receive, or in what terms to acknowledge. When, upon some slight encouragement, I first visited your lordship, I was overpowered, like the rest of mankind, by the enchantment of your address; and could not forbear to wish that I might boast myself le vainqueur du vainqueur de la terre; -that I might obtain that regard for which I saw the world contending; but I found my attendance so little encouraged, that neither pride nor modesty would suffer me to continue it. When I had once addressed your lordship in public, I had exhausted all the art of pleasing which a retired and uncourtly scholar can possess. I had done all that I could and no man is well pleased to have his all neglected, be it ever so little. Seven years, my lord, have now past, since I waited in your outward rooms, or was repulsed from your door; during which time I have been pushing on my work through difficulties, of which it is useless to complain, and have brought it at last to the very verge of publication, without one act of assistance, one word of encouragement, or one smile of favour. Such treatment I did not expect, for I never had a patron before. The shepherd in Virgil grew at last acquainted with Love, and found him a native of the rocks. Is not a patron, my lord, one who looks with unconcern on a man struggling for life in the water, and, when he has reached ground, encumbers him with help? The notice which you have been pleased to take of my labours, had it been early, had been kind; but it has been delayed till I am indifferent, and cannot enjoy it; till I am solitary. and cannot impart it; till I am known, and do not want it. I hope it is no very cynical asperity not to confess obligations where no benefit has been received, or to be unwilling that the public should consider me as owing that to a patron, which Providence has enabled me to do for myself. Having carried on my work thus far with so little obligation to any favourer of learning, I shall not be disappointed though I should conclude it, if less be possible, with less; for I have been long wakened from that dream of hope, in which I once boasted myself with so much exultation, my lord, your lordship's most humble, most obedient servant, S. JOHNSON. Wm. Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. Wm. Unwin. Amico mio, be pleased to buy me a glazier's diamond pencil. I have glazed the two frames designed to receive my pine-plants. But I can not mend the kitchen windows, till by the help of that implement I can reduce the glass to its proper dimensions. If I were a plumber, I should be a complete glazier; and possibly the happy time may come, when I shall be seen trudging away to the neighbouring towns with a shelf of glass hanging at my back. If government should impose another tax upon that commodity, I hardly know a business in which a gentleman might more successfully employ himself. A Chinese, of ten times my fortune, would avail himself of such an opportunity without scruple; and why should not I, who want money as much as any mandarin in China? Rousseau would have been charmed to see me so occupied, and would have exclaimed, with rapture, that he had found the Emilius, who (he supposed) had subsisted only in his own idea." I would recommend it to you to follow my example. You will presently qualify yourself for the task; and may not only amuse yourself at home, but may even exercise your skill in mending the church windows; which, as it would save money to the parish, would conduce, together with your other ministerial accomplishments, to make you extremely popular in the place. I have eight pair of tame pigeons. When I first enter the garden in the morning, I find them perched upon the wall, waiting for their breakfast, for I feed them always upon the gravel walk. If your wish should be accomplished, and you should find yourself furnished with the wings of a dove, I shall undoubtly find you among them; only be so good, if that should be the case, to announce yourself by some means or other, for I imagine your crop will require something better than tares to fill it. Your mother and I, last week, made a trip in a post-chaise to Gayhurst, the seat of Mr. Wright, about four miles off. He understood that I did not much affect strange faces, and sent over his servant on purpose to inform me, that he was go. ing into Leicestershire, and that if I chose to see the gardens, I might gratify myself, without danger of seeing the proprietor. I accepted the invitation, and was delighted with all I found there. The situation is happy, the gardens elegantly disposed the hot-house in the most flourishing state, and the orange-trees the most captivating creatures of the kind I ever saw. A man, in short, had need have the talents of Cox or Langford, the auctioneers, to do the whole scene justice. Our love attends you all. Yours, WM. COWPER. Wm. Cowper, Esq. to the Rev. Wm. Unwin. MY DEAR FRIEND, October 31, 1779. I WROTE my last letter merely to inform you, that I had nothing to say, in answer to which you have said nothing. I admire the propriety of your conduct, though I am a loser by it. I will endeavour to say something now, and shall hope for something in return. I have been well entertained with Johnson's biography, for which I thank you; with one exception, and that a swinging one, I think he has acquitted himself with his usual good sense and sufficiency. His treatment of Milton is unmerciful to the last degree. He has belaboured that great poet's character with the most industrious cruelty. As a man he has hardly left him the shadow of one quality. Churlishness in his private life, and a rancorous hatred of every thing royal in his public, are the two colours with which |