Your commendation of Master Chapman arrideth me. Can any one read the pert modern Frenchify'd notes, &c., in Pope's translation, and contrast them with solemn weighty prefaces of Chapman, writing in full faith, as he evidently does, of the plenary inspiration of his author — worshipping his meanest scraps and relics as divine — without one sceptical misgiving of their authenticity, and doubt which was the properest to expound Homer to their countrymen. Reverend Chapman! you have red his hymn to Pan (the Homeric) — why, it is Milton's blank verse clothed with rhyme. Paradise Lost could scarce lose, could it be so accoutred.