About ten years ago, I published an edition of Dr. Johnston’s translation of the Psalms, and having procured from the general assembly of the church of Scotland, a recommendation of its use to the lower classes of grammar schools, into which I had begun to introduce it, though not without much controversy and opposition, I thought it likely that I should, by annual publications, improve my little fortune, and be enabled to support myself in freedom from the miseries of indigence.  But Mr. Pope, in his malevolence to Mr. Benson, who had distinguished himself by his fondness for the same version, destroyed all my hopes by a distich, in which he places Johnston in a contemptuous comparison with the author of Paradise Lost[2].  From this time, all my praises of Johnston became ridiculous, and I was censured, with great freedom, for forcing upon the schools an author whom Mr. Pope had mentioned only as a foil to a better poet.  On this occasion, it was natural not to be pleased, and my resentment seeking to discharge itself somewhere, was unhappily directed against Milton.  I resolved to attack his fame, and found some passages in cursory reading, which gave me hopes of stigmatizing him as a plagiary.  The farther I carried my search, the more eager I grew for the discovery; and the more my hypothesis was opposed, the more I was heated with rage.  The consequence of my blind passion, I need not relate; it has, by your detection, become apparent to mankind.  Nor do I mention this provocation, as adequate to the fury which I have shown, but as a cause of anger, less shameful and reproachful than fractious malice, personal envy, or national jealousy.

But for the violation of truth, I offer no excuse, because I well know, that nothing can excuse it.  Nor will I aggravate my crime, by disingenuous palliations.  I confess it, I repent it, and resolve, that my first offence shall be my last.  More I cannot perform, and more, therefore, cannot be required.  I entreat the pardon of all men, whom I have by any means induced to support, to countenance, or patronise my frauds, of which, I think myself obliged to declare, that not one of my friends was conscious.  I hope to deserve, by better conduct, and more useful undertakings, that patronage which I have obtained from the most illustrious and venerable names by misrepresentation and delusion, and to appear hereafter in such a character, as shall give you no reason to regret that your name is frequently mentioned with that of,

Reverend Sir,

Your most humble servant,

WILLIAM LAUDER.

December 20, 1750.

FOOTNOTES: 

[1] Virorum maximus—­Joannes Miltonus—­Poeta celeberrimus—­non Angliae
    modo, soli natalis, verum generis humani ornamentum—­cujus eximius
    liber, Anglicanis versibus conscriptus, vulgo Paradisus amissus,
    immortalis illud ingenii monumentum, cum ipsa fere aeternitate