all their industry were unable to maintain themselves and five children, without running deeply in debt to the baker. The discharge of this debt, and the additional comfort of some necessary clothing, were blessings so unexpected, that the transports they felt on receiving them are not often equalled.

Your friend, Mr. Teedon, who with all his foibles is a deserving man, so far at least as the strictest honesty and the most laborious attention to his little school, can entitle him to that character, has been very seasonably and substantially relieved. The poor man's writing paper was almost all expended, and not having wherewithal to purchase more, or to pay his small arrears to the stationer, he had fretted himself into a slow fever, which Mr. Smith however has effectually cured, and he stands restored to his former health and sprightliness of conversation. Rent day was likewise near at hand, a formidable era, which I believe his indigence always obliges him to anticipate with horror; but the terrors of it are removed, and the sum of three guineas has performed all these wonders. Our judgement in these matters is, that it is better to give effectual relief to a few than to split a sum into diminutive items, the operation of which is scarcely perceptible among many. We have, however, delivered others from the entanglement of debts which, though small, were to them an insupportable burthen; and by putting a few shillings in their pockets, have encouraged them to undergo the drudgery of their miserable occupations with alacrity and delight. I have been rather circumstantial in my detail, because, though it is certain Mr. Smith would not have entrusted his bounty to our disposal, had he not had something like an implicit confidence in our discretion, it will perhaps afford him satisfaction to know, with some degree of particularity, in what manner that discretion has been exercised. We have given to none but the honest, the worthy, and consequently, I may add, to none but the truly grateful.

To-morrow I shall expect a letter from Mr. Newton, it is not therefore in my power to give you any information by this post on the subject, which Mrs. Newton touched so lightly. Whether he himself will enlarge upon it is doubtful, being fearful, for wise reasons, of receiving praise, and for the same reasons fearful of communicating it. But as for me, my modesty is in no danger; I have that within which sufficiently guards me against the workings of vanity; no man would think highly of himself, if he believed that his Maker thought meanly of him.

I have a poem upon Friendship, which, for the life of me, I cannot now transcribe; it is at least thirty stanzas in length, each consisting of six lines. On some future occasion, perhaps, I may have more time, and find myself less indolent. At present I can write nothing but a letter, and, to say the truth, am not sorry when I have reached the end of it.

I beg you will mention us handsomely to Mr. Smith and to Mr. and Mrs. Creuzé. Your mother is pretty well; her love attends you.

Yours, my dear friend,

WM.COWPER.

I have written this a week sooner than I need have

done, a discovery I have made this moment; it is possible, therefore, that I may find an opportunity to send you Friendship.

TO THE REV. WILLIAM UNWIN.

MY DEAR WILLIAM,

DOCTOR BEATTIE is a respectable character. I account him a man of sense, a philosopher, a scholar, a person of distinguished genius, and a good writer. I believe him too a Christian; with a profound reverence for the Scripture, with great zeal and ability to enforce the belief of it (both which he exerts with the candour and good manners of a gentleman), he seems well entitled to that allowance; and to deny it him, would impeach one's own right to the appellation. With all these good things to recommend him, there can be no dearth of sufficient reasons to read his writings. You favoured me some years since with one of his volumes, by which I was both pleased and instructed; and I beg that you will send me the new one, when you can conveniently spare it, or rather bring it yourself, while the swallows are yet upon the wing; for the summer is going down apace.

You tell me you have been asked, if I am intent upon another volume? I reply,-not at present, not being convinced that I have met with sufficient encouragement. I account myself happy in having pleased a few, but am not rich enough to despise the many. I do not know what sort of market my commodity has found, but if a slack one, I must beware how I make a second attempt. My bookseller will not be willing to incur a certain loss; and I can as little afford it. Notwithstanding what I have said, I write, and am even now writing for the press. I told you that I had translated several of the poems of Madame Guyon. I told you too, or I am mistaken, that Mr. Bull designed to print them. That gentleman is gone to the seaside with Mrs. Wilberforce, and will be absent six weeks. My intention is to surprise him at his return with the addition of as much more translation as I have already given him. This however is still less likely to be a popular work than my former. Men that have no religion would despise it; and men that have no religious experience would not understand it. But the strain of simple and unaffected piety in the original is sweet beyond expression. She sings like an angel, and for that very reason has found but few admirers. Other things I write too, as you will see on the other side, but these merely for my amusement1.

W. C.

TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

Jan. 11, 1783. On Thursday evening Mr. Raban drank tea with us; he brought us a barrel of pickled oysters, for which we return our thanks, and the agreeable news of your welfare, in which we rejoice. He arrived brimfull of admiration at the wonderful performances of a certain soothsayer, whom I recollect you mentioned when we

This letter closed with the English and Latin Verses on the loss of the Royal George.

saw you at Olney. I do not, I hope, offend against the law of charity in my judgement of this man; to say truth, I account him rather an object of pity than censure; but as to the intelligence with which he is furnished, it seems to be derived merely from a spirit of divination. We know that, in old time, persons influenced by such a spirit were ready enough to bear testimony to the Apostles and their doctrine, but they refused the testimony and rebuked the spirit. His extraordinary remembrance and application of Scripture therefore do not seem to warrant his pretensions to any higher character than that of a diviner. An opinion I am the more confirmed in when I recollect that he is ambitious to be thought an intimate friend of the Angel Gabriel, and that he calls Christ his Brother and God his Father in a style of familiarity that seems to bespeak no small share of spiritual pride and vanity. Mr. Raban admired his interpretation of some scriptures relating to the day of judgement, and gave him credit for having placed them in a new light; but in our opinion that light was darkness, inasmuch as it was derogatory from the honour of the Judge, and contrary to the tenor of every passage that speaks of him in that office. But perhaps I have a heavier charge than any of these to allege against Mr. Best, or at least his oracle. A woman of most infamous character, too vile for description, had the curiosity to visit him; he examined her palm as usual, and pronounced her little less than an angel. He was even so enamoured of her that he was with

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