CHARLES COTTON. clxxxvii 



last work which was published in his lifetime was a translation of 

 Montaigne's Essays, which was printed in three volumes in 1685, 

 and which is considered to be his most important contribution to 

 English literature ; for, unlike translations in general, it is said 

 rather to excel than be inferior to the original. He dedicated 

 his labours to George Savile, Marquess of Halifax, then Lord 

 Privy Seal, to whom he says he had become slightly known some 

 years before. The Marquess acknowledged the compliment in 

 the following letter to Cotton, which from so excellent a judge of 

 literature, must have been highly gratifying to him : — 



"This for Charles Cotton, Esq., at his house at Beresford, to be left 

 at Ashburne, in Derbyshire. 



" Sir,— I have too long delayed my thanks to you for giving me such an 

 obliging evidence of your remembrance. That alone would have been a 

 •welcome present, but when joined with the book in the world I am the 

 best entertained with, it raiseth a strong desire in me to be better known, 

 where I am sure to be so much pleased. I have 'till now thought wit could 

 not he translated, and do still retain so much of that opinion, that I believe 

 it impossible, except by one whose genius cometh up to that of the author. 

 You have the original strength of his thought, that it almost tempts a man 

 to believe the transmigration of souls, and that his being used to hills, is 

 come into the moorlands, to reward us here in England, for doing him 

 more right than his country will afford him. He hath by your means 

 mended his first edition. 



" To transplant and make him ours, is not only a valuable acquisition 

 to us, but a just censure of the critical impertinence of those French scrib- 

 blers, who have taken pains to make little cavils and exceptions to lessen 

 the reputation of this great man, whom nature hath made too big to con- 

 fine him to the exactness of a studied stile. He let his mind have its full 

 flight and sheweth, by a generous kind of negligence, that he did not write 

 for praise, but to give the world a true picture of himself and of mankind. 

 He scorned affected periods, or to please the mistaken reader with an 

 empty chime of words. He hath no affection to set himself out, and de- 

 pendeth wholly upon the natural force of what is his own, and the excellent 

 application of what he borroweth. 



" You see. Sir, I have kindness enough for Monsieur de Montaigne to 

 be your rival ; but nobody can now pretend to be in equal competition 

 with you. I do willingly yield it is no small matter for a man to do to a 

 more prosperous lover ; and if you will repay this piece of justice with 

 another, pray believe, that he who can translate such an author without 

 doing him wrong, must not only make me glad, but proud of being his 

 very humble servant, Halifax." 



It appears from the preface,! as well as from the address of 



* He says, "The errors of the press, I nmst in part tftke upon myself, living at so 

 remote a distance from it, and supplying it with a slubbered copy from an illiterate 

 amanuensis." 



