Mrs. Unwin, I think, is on the whole rather improved in her health since we had the pleasure of your short visit; I should say the pleasure of your visit, and the pain of its shortness.
I am, my dearest madam,
Most truly yours,
W. C.
TO THE REV. JOHN NEWTON.[558]
The Lodge, Oct. 15, 1790.
My dear Friend,—We were surprised and grieved at Mrs. Scott's[559] sudden departure; grieved, you may suppose, not for her, but for him, whose loss, except that in God he has an all-sufficient good, is irreparable. The day of separation between those who have loved long and well is an awful day, inasmuch as it calls the Christian's faith and submission to the severest trial. Yet I account those happy, who, if they are severely tried, shall yet be supported, and carried safely through. What would become of me on a similar occasion! I have one comfort, and only one: bereft of that, I should have nothing left to lean on; for my spiritual props have been long struck from under me.
I have no objection at all to being known as the translator of Van Lier's Letters, when they shall be published. Rather, I am ambitious of it as an honour. It will serve to prove, that, if I have spent much time to little purpose in the translation of Homer, some small portion of my time has, however, been well disposed of.
The honour of your preface prefixed to my poems will be on my side; for surely to be known as the friend of a much-favoured minister of God's word is a more illustrious distinction, in reality, than to have the friendship of any poet in the world to boast of.
We sympathize truly with you under all your tender concern for Mrs. Newton, and with her in all her sufferings from such various and discordant maladies. Alas! what a difference have twenty-three years made in us and in our condition! for just so long is it since Mrs. Unwin and I came into Buckinghamshire. Yesterday was the anniversary of that memorable era. Farewell!
W. C.