know what, and said to misfortune, Now, madam, I defy you. This you know as well as I, this therefore you should practise; and though you cannot, I suppose, boast of such a buttress as he was fenced with, yet, pro modulo, and according to your ability, you should make that use of it his example teaches, and the most of a little. From Mr. Madan's renewed publication, I cannot but infer that he preserves the same conduct as before he published at all. Letters of admonition, dissuasion, and exhortation, he burned unread; and has treated, I suppose, the Review with the same obstinate indifference and contempt. I the rather think so, because I am firmly persuaded he could not reply to his answerer; though it is possible his case may resemble that of a certain disputant I have heard of, who said upon a like occasion, “I am confuted, but not convinced." Impregnable, however, as he may be to the attacks of sound reason, backed with all the authority of sound learning, his advocates are not all, it seems, quite so stubborn as himself. Mr. Riland, of Birmingham, has at last forsaken the standard of polygamy, and betaken himself to the side of Christian decorum and decency again. Mr. Powley, we learn from good authority, has been instrumental in working this conversion, which does him the more honour, as he had by all accounts a very weak, though a very good man to deal with. Men that have no large share of reason themselves, are seldom sensible of the force of it in the hands of another. I am informed that the reviewer is preparing an answer at large, and that the Bishop of London has likewise undertaken the task. If this be the case, actum est de Thelyphthora. I hear likewise that the king, having read a part of it, threw it down with indignation, and expressed his regret that there was no law by which such an author could be brought to the punishment he deserves. This is not unlikely, for, by all accounts, he is a moral man, and consequently a chaste husband; that he should view therefore such a proposal with abhorrence is natural enough. Your mother returns her thanks to Mrs. Unwin for her letter. Our love attends you both, with Miss Shuttleworth and the little ones. The two guineas may be sent with the salmon, for which we thank you par avance. If the lines of your letter could be pushed together they would not fill three sides; and if mine could be moved to the distance at which yours stand from each other, they would fill four. This, however, is not my reason for concluding, but because I am weary, therefore I add only that I am Yours as ever, WM. C. TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON, CHARLES SQUARE, MY DEAR FRIEND, HOXTON, LONDON. Feb. 4, 1781. We have waited I suppose with equal impatience for a letter. Our last dispatches crossed each other, so that each of us has claimed the posteriority, the epistolary race being always won by him that comes in last. This however has not been the only reason of my silence. I have been very busy in my way, and ere long you will see the fruit of my labour. I shall say nothing of it at present, except that Truth, though long since finished, must be postponed to this last production, and that the Progress of Error itself must not take the lead of it. Truth will be seasonable at any time, and though the Progress of Error has some connexion with the present day, it is not so closely related to the occurrences of it as the new one, which has the name of Table Talk. I have almost finished the copy of it which I intend for you, but cannot send it till from that I have transcribed another for myself, the original being written on so many scrips and scraps that it would be very troublesome to range them, and indeed I have no perfect copy of it but the fair one. I have not numbered the lines, but I suspect that it is longer than either of the others. Now I believe I shall hang up my harp for the remainder of the year, and, Since Eighty-one has had so much to do, We were much pleased with your Extracts: they were so faithful to the truth, that unless Mr. Madan has much of that candour he will not allow to others, they will put his friendship for you to a strong trial; and yet so affectionate, that he cannot be displeased without the violation of every thing that deserves the name of friendship. We both long to be informed of the reception they have met with, and take it for granted you will indulge our curiosity when you can. We have been told that the Bishop of London intends an answer to Thelyphthora, but I think his Lordship would hardly have put off the publication to so late a day. We have been told likewise that Mr. Riland is a convert to monogamy, but from some things we have heard since are obliged to doubt it. Mr. Scott called on us the very day of his return from London. We are glad of his appointment to the curacy, and so I suppose are all, at least all but a very few, whose joy or sorrow on the occasion is of small consequence to any but themselves. And yet I think he will meet with troubles, and if my sagacity does not fail me much, I can see from what quarter they are likely to arise. Instrumentality is generally taken up with some reluctance, and laid down with a great deal more: but where such a man, so well qualified in every respect for the charge assigned him, has the care of a people, there can be no occasion for subordinate assistance. It is not his design to accept of it, and his refusal I am rather apprehensive will occasion a murmur somewhere. Even upon your account we are pleased with Mr. Page's departure, as some disagreeables and awkwardnesses would probably have attended your interview. He could not have refused you his pulpit, and yet there is reason to believe that you are the last man in the kingdom he would have wished to see in it. He has applied, or rather Mr. Warden Smith in his behalf, for the curacy at Ravenstone, but Mr. Chapman has given no definitive answer. Mr. Scott, I should suppose, would be sorry to see himself so succeeded. Mr. Dowbiggin's curate, (if I have spelt the strange name aright,) pays addresses to the same lady, and Mr. Jones has been ogling her not a little. But who S. C.-4. F will be the happy man, conjecture has not yet ventured to surmise. We wait with some impatience for the issue of Lord George's trial. Somebody, late from London, has brought hither the news that fresh disturbances are expected on the occasion, especially if he should be condemned: but what sort of patriotism is it, or what sort of zeal, that is offended when the laws of the country take their course ? We are both pretty well. Mrs. Unwin joins with me in love to yourself and Mrs. Newton. Yours, my dear Sir, WM. COWPER. TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN. MY DEAR FRIEND, Feb. 6, 1781. It is high time you should consult your own peace of mind, and not suffer the insatiable demands and unreasonable expectations of other men, to be a source of unhappiness to yourself. You have lived long enough in the world to know that it swarms with people who are always ready to take advantage of the generosity of such men as you; who say in their hearts, when they meet with such disinterested treatment as every one receives from your hands, "Now is the time;—the man has a gentlemanly regard for his character, he loves peace more than money, and will make any concessions, so that he may but approve himself to his own conscience. Let us squeeze him; he will yield well; the more he complies the more we will insist, and make him pay dear for the character |