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I think, articulate, I laugh and weep,
And exercife all functions of a man.

How then should I, and any man that lives,
Be ftrangers to each other? Pierce my vein,
Take of the crimson ftream, meand'ring there,
And catechife it well. Apply your glass ;
Search it, and prove now if it be not blood
Congenial with thine own; and, if it be,
What edge of fubtlety canft thou fuppofe
Keen enough, wife and skilful as thou art,
To cut the link of brotherhood, by which
One common Maker bound me to the kind.
True; I am no proficient, I confefs,

In arts like yours. I cannot call the swift

And perilous lightnings from the angry clouds,

And bid them hide themfelves in th' earth beneath,
I cannot analife the air, nor catch

The parallax of yonder lum'nous point,

That feems half quench'd in the immenfe abyfs;
Such powers I boaft not-neither can I reft
A filent witrefs of the headlong rage,

Or heedlefs folly, by which thousands die,
Bone of my bone, and kindred souls to mine.'

The poem intitled Tyrocinium, or, a Review of Schools, difplays the talents of a vigorous mind and lively imagination. Mr. Cowper is particularly happy in his fatire on the abuses practifed in public schools; but, as this is a fubject on which the opinions of fome of the wifeft and the best of men are divided, we cannot, in every respect, give our author credit for the averfion he betrays against public fchools in general. In as far, however, as he turns into ridicule the grofs abuses of them, his poem will be read with approbation. - John Gilpin's marvellous Hiftory concludes the volume. The accidental celebrity, which this piece of levity acquired, probably induced the author to acknowledge it, and print it with his other works.

On the whole, we can recommend Mr. Cowper's poems as abounding in many of the most valuable requifites of true poetry in the beauties of harmony; in imagery; in juft and fine fentiments; and as breathing a spirit of piety and philanthropy, which engages the heart and captivates the affections. Here and there a vapid line appears, or a turgid epithet; but the inftances are so few, that the general merit of the poems will conceal them from every eye but the prying one of a faitidious critic.

ART.

ART. XII. The Letters of Charlotte, during her Connexion with Werter. 2 vols. Izmo. 58. fewed. Cadell, London, 1786.

THE

HE character of these volumes is to contain, in an easy, polished, and agreeable ftile, no confiderable novelty of fentiment, and no ftriking exhibition of talents. They are, however, confiderably fuperior to the common run of performances of this fort. In the perufal they will gratify the paffion for amufement; and, if studied and copied by the fairer clafs of readers, will lead them to a correct and inartificial mode of compofition. They have the rare merit, without advancing any claim to our admiration, to poffefs in the ftricteft fenfe, what is called a ftile. To evince this, we will present our readers with an example of the author's manner of treating unimpaffioned and fpeculative fubjects; and then will felect one or two of these short letters, that relate to the ftory of the volume. It is thus that Charlotte reafons upon the fubject of Platonic love.

No! I by no means think it "indelicate" in you to contend against the existence of Platonic friendship: it is mere matter of opi nion. But against your opinion I bring a fact; I produce my vouchers-Werter and Therefa. There is Platonic friendship in the ftricteft fenfe. But you will, perhaps, ask me, will it continue fuch? Will not Albert's preíence-Ah, my dear friend! do not flatter me with ideal peace. Can Werter's prefence make me forget Albert? -will not my esteem remain for Werter, when Albert comes? In Albert's prefence will Werter's flame expire ?

• If the friendship which I envy would terminate in love, I should indeed be happy. But I fear my Carolina prophefies in vain.

6

Refpecting Platonics, I admire your candour, though I do not fubfcribe to your creed. Poffibly I may be mistaken; I may have too high an opinion of human nature. We all believe, that angelic intercoufe is intellectual; and we all know and feel, that our most fupreme felicity originates in mind; that our affections are stronger in proportion as they are refined, and are refined in proportion to the cultivation of our intellectual faculties. And why may not minds be fo cultivated, and so rapt, as it were, in the exercife and contemplation of their own powers, as to hold an independent intercourse? I do not say this is common. I contend only for the poffibility of its existence. Holy men hold converse with Heaven: they have a fpiritual intercourfe with the Father of lights," yet holy men are mortal.

'But this you will call a fummer evening's reverie.-Be it fo: I love to indulge myself in such reveries as impress on my mind a favoura ble idea of human nature, which makes me respect mankind and myself; and fo long as thefe impreffions remain, I cannot easily be jed to do any thing unbecoming the duty and the dignity of a rational being.

• My

My laft letter from Albert informs me, that he has settled his father's affairs; has great hope of fucceeding in his application to the minister; and that he shall foon be able to fix the day for his return to Walheim. My dear Carolina, adieu!'

Her panegyric of epiftolary correfpondence is also expreffed with perfpicuity and neatness.

I am afraid my dear Carolina muft have discovered, in fome of my late letters, an appearance of vanity. But you will recollect, that they are chicfly narrative. In relating what has paffed between Werter and myself, I could not avoid giving you his own words; and little regard is to be paid to the language of paffion, whether of love or anger. You fee, my dear, how nearly abufe and compliment are allied fo nearly, that fometimes one is mistaken for the other.

'I fhould find myself extremely at a lofs to give, verbally, an account of the circumftances which I communicate to you by letter.But in a confidential correfpondence, and efpecially with my Carolina, I can lay open my heart, and reveal all its weakneffes.

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I have always regarded letters as a fort of proxies, fometimes inftructed to deliver fuch fentiments as one could not freely communicate otherwise.

Some very grave, and fome very light people, look on a correfpondence of this kind as very filly. The contents of the corre. fpondence may frequently be filly enough; but the practice is not the worfe for that; like every thing elfe, it may fometimes be abused. To put our thoughts in writing, and habituate ourselves to give them language, will foon enable us to do it with facility; and, furely, that is an accomplishment well worth cultivation.

But this is not the only advantage refulting from a confidential correfpondence. If we made it a rule to give an account of our actions, it might be one way of preventing fome from doing things which they would be ashamed to acknowledge. Hence, the vaft importance in our choice of friends: virtue, as well as vice, is ftrengthened by connexion; example comes directly home, and has its full influence on the mind. Thofe, therefore, who contend against the confidential correfpondence of virtuous friends, would prevent their progress in a neceffary accomplishment, and deprive them of one of the guards of virtue.

Believe me, my dear Carolina, I regard your friendship as one of the chief bleffings of my life; and the communication of your fentiments as one of my moft exalted pleafures. The hemifphere of my friendship is very small; I look on you as no less than the fun in it and all your letters as rays, conveying light and comfort to your Charlotte.--Adieu.'

The narrative of this publication cannot be better explained than by the language of Charlotte, when fhe is fuppofed first to have difcovered the paffion of Werter.

Ah, my dear Carolina !-I fee my error, and I acknowledge the justice of your remark.-An attachment fo fudden and so strong!-

I fee my error, Carolina, but could I fee it then and could I avoid it ?-Whilft I converfed with Werter, the idea of paffion never entered my mind. You well know the difpofition of your Charlotteand you will reflect, how often we are made happy or miferable by the accidental concurrence of even trivial circumftances of circumftances that, like fmall rivulets, derive all their power from cafual conjunction. But how could I foresee this?

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"When you first discovered the flame in his bofom"-It was then too late to apply your remedy: it was then too late to "throw on the water of cold referve." Werter knew the candour of Charlotte : he knew she was incapable of affecting what she did not feel-and to treat with indifference that affection which fhe could not return.And how could I fpeak to him on the fubject of a passion which he had never declared ?

When I discovered the flame in his bofom, and faw it sparkle in his eyes; when his vifits became more and more frequent, and his converfations were interrupted by involuntary fighs; when I faw him come like a bounding roe over the fields, with all the ardour of youth; and when I faw him return, melancholy and dejected, measuring his pace with funeral steps; then, my Carolina, then I began to tremble: I ftood aghaft at the innocent mifchief I had done; like poor villagers that from a hill behold their cottages in flames, and can only lament their fall; fo I regarded the paffion of Werter :-I faw, but could not relieve. I put confidence in his reason; I opposed the ftrength of his philofophy to that of his paffion, and derived confolation from the great English poet :-" Violent love," he says, “foon evaporates; furious flames quickly expire."

Yes, I fee my error: I'fhould not have admitted an intimacy with one fo fufceptible of the finer feelings; yet these, alas, were the filken threads that formed the cord of friendship; the unfortunate friendship of Werter and Charlotte !-Yet, why unfortunate ?-let me not caft the fashion of uncertain evils :" Werter may conquer his paffion; Charlotte may lose the lover, and regain the friend and all may yet be well.-May Heaven so speed the hours !— Adieu !'

To this we will add the laft interview between the letterwriter and her unfortunate inamorato, which is fuppofed by the author to have been immediately preceded by the funeral proceffion of the diffracted lover of Charlotte; the admirable defcription of whom must be fo well remembered by every one acquainted with the performance of Goethe.

Chance-no, it is not chance; for what, - Father of lights!what has chance to do in a world governed by thy providence? No : it is thy will that Charlotte should fuffer; that one woe fhould fucceed another, as clouds follow clouds, and gather into forms-but let thy goodneis difperfe them-mercifully difperfe them, before they overwhelm me!

A few hours after I had feen the melancholy fpectacle of Henry's funeral, my mind had become in fome iome degree calm; and in the evening I fat mufing on the viciffitudes to which even a

life of retirement is expofed. I thought on Werter: I recalled to my mind paft fcenes; and lamented the fate of an attachment from which I promised myself the pleasures of an innocent friendship —I felt, deeply felt, for the anxiety of Albert, who, in his absence, might think too much of Werter, when-to my inexpreffible astonishment -I heard the voice of Werter on the ftairs !It was too late to be denied. I was diftreffed, and reproved him. For fome minutes I knew not what to do; at laft I fent to defire Sophia Andran to come and fit with me; fhe had company. I fent to others, but before the fervant returned it rained violently. I then thought of calling in my maid; but, conscious of my own innocence, and afhamed to take fo unusual a step, i fat down to my harpsichord, and, after playing a few minutes to prevent Werter entering into converfation, I defired him to read fomething, and gave him his own tranflation of Offian. I faw his heart was full; and the paffage he read affected me to tears. It conveyed an idea of our mutual fufferings. Werter feized my hand, and kissed it with an agitation that made me tremble.— 1 defired him to proceed with the poem: "To-morrow," he read, "fhall the traveller come; he that faw me in my beauty fhall come his eyes will fearch the field, but they will not find me.”— The heart of Werter funk at these words: a torrent of tears ran down his cheeks; he threw himself at my feet, and, whilft his whole frame shook, he put my hands against his forehead.-Horror, inftantly converted into pity, feized me; my heart told me his fatal resolution : a thousand fenfations arose in my bofom-fear-pity—was predomimant:-trembling, I funk in his arms;-for the first time, these lips met the lips of Werter. The ardour of his embrace recalled my bewildered fenfes: "Werter !" I faid, with a tremulous accent,but he preffed me to his bofom;-raifing myself and turning my face from him, the picture of my dear mother met my eyes. The full idea of virtue rufhed into my mind: I was inftantly collected, and with a determined tone, I repeated" Werter !"-He fell on his knee before me - O Carolina !-What emotions at that moment filled my torn bofom!-at that moment, at once pitying and refenting, I pronounced the words of eternal feparation!" This is the last time! -Werter, you will never fee me more !"-My heart bled, Carolina, as I fpoke the words -- I spoke them, and with a last look flew into my room.

O, my Carolina! what a night of terror and diftrefs ! – How did my heart beat when I heard the door fhut after Werter !—the rain poured; and the dreadful idea he had raised in my mind-my imagination prefented fuch fearful images !—It was in vain to seek repose: a thousand recollections kept me awake. A new fenfation pervaded my bofom-yes, my Carolina, I felt a friendship too tender for Werter; and, for the first time, I dreaded the looks of Albert !— Long and difmal was the night; my hurried fancy was filled with fad ideas the new-made grave of Henry ;-the floods of water that Werter, in defpair, mutt pafs in his gloomy road to Walheim ! At one moment the fervour of his kiffes thrilled through my heart, whilft blushes burned my cheeks :-the next, my veins ran cold, when I thought I heard his fighs in the howling wind, that almost

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