manner. It is true, his productions teem with imagination, and show great learning, but they want that ease and sweetness for which his poetry is so much admired; and the language is also shamefully incorrect. Yet, though all this must be allowed, Pope should have taken care not to leave his errors upon record against him, or put it in the power of envy to tax his friend with faults that do not appear in what he has left to the world. A poet has a right to expect the same secrecy in his friend as in his confessor; the sins he discovers are not divulged for punishment, but pardon. Indeed, Pope is almost inexcusable in this instance, as what he seems to condemn in one place he very much applauds in another. In one of the letters from him to Parnell, above mentioned, he treats the Life of Homer with much greater respect, and seems to say, that the prose is excellent in its kind. It must be confessed, how ever, that he is by no means inconsistent; what he says in both places may very easily be reconciled to truth; but who can defend his candour and sincerity? only pleasure in view, and can seld find it but among each other. The Sar blerus Club, when the members wer town, were seldom asunder, and they at made excursions together into the coun and generally on foot. Swift was usal the butt of the company, and if a was played, he was always the suf The whole party once agreed to down to the house of Lord B—, * is still living, and whose seat is ab twelve miles from town. As every agreed to make the best of his way, Swi who was remarkable for walking, so left the rest behind him, fully resolve upon his arrival, to choose the very be bed for himself, for that was his cuSTOR In the meantime Parnell was determin to prevent his intentions, and taking ton arrived at Lord B-'s by another wa long before him. Having apprize 1 lordship of Swift's design, it was resolv at any rate to keep him out of the hous but how to effect this was the questio Swift never had the small-pox, and w very much afraid of catching it; as soo therefore, as he appeared striding alor It would be hard, however, to suppose at some distance from the house, ne that there was no real friendship be- his lordship's servants was despatched tween these great men. The benevolence inform him that the small-pox of Parnell's disposition remains unim-making great ravages in the family, by peached; and Pope, though subject to starts of passion and envy, yet never missed an opportunity of being truly serviceable to him. The commerce between them was carried on to the common interest of both. When Pope had a Miscellany to publish, he applied to Parnell for poetical assistance, and the latter as implicitly submitted to him for correction. Thus they mutually advanced each other's interest or fame, and grew stronger by conjunction. Nor was Pope the only person to whom Parnell had recourse for assistance. We learn from Swift's letters to Stella that he submitted his pieces to all his friends, and readily adopted their alterations. Swift, among the number, was very useful to him in that particular; and care has been taken that the world should not remain ignorant of the obligation. But in the connections of wits, interest has generally very little share; they have was the that there was a summer-house with field-bed at his service, at the end of th garden. There the disappointed De was obliged to retire, and take a co supper that was sent out to him, whi the rest were feasting within. Howeve at last they took compassion on bm; at upon his promising never to choose t best bed again, they permitted m make one of the company. There is something satisfactory the accounts of the follies of the wise th give a natural air to the picture, and concile us to our own. There have b few poetical societies more talked of productive of a greater variety of wh sical conceits, than this of the Sch Club, but how long it lasted I ca exactly determine. The whole of F poetical existence was not of mort eight or ten years' continuance; excursions to England began ab year 1706, and he died in the year! that it is probable the club began with , and his death ended the connection. leed, the festivity of his conversation, benevolence of his heart, and the erosity of his temper, were qualities t might serve to cement any society, that could hardly be replaced when was taken away. During the two or e last years of his life he was more d of company than ever, and could cely hear to be alone. The death of wife, it is said, was a loss to him that was unable to support or recover. sorrow that time he could never venture Durt the Muse in solitude, where he sure to find the image of her who inspired his attempts. He began, efore, to throw himself into every pany, and to seek from wine, if not , at least insensibility. Those helps first called for assistance : soon rendered necessary, and he before his fortieth year, in some ure a martyr to conjugal fidelity. us in the space of a very few years ell attained a share of fame equal to most of his contemporaries were a life in acquiring. He is only to be dered as a poet; and the universal n in which his poems are held, and eiterated pleasure they give in the sal, are a sufficient test of their merit. ppears to me to be the last of that school that had modelled itself upon acients, and taught English poetry emble what the generality of manhave allowed to excel. A studious orrect observer of antiquity, he sets If to consider nature with the lights him; and he found that the more borrowed from the one, the more tfully he resembled the other. To nature is a task the most bungling nan is able to execute; to select parts as contribute to delight is reenly for those whom accident has d with uncommon talents, or such ve read the ancients with indefatiindustry. Parnell is ever happy in Jection of his images, and scrupucareful in the choice of his subjects. >roductions bear no resemblance to tawdry things, which it has for some been the fashion to admire; in writing which the poet sits down without any plan, and heaps up splendid images without any selection; where the reader grows dizzy with praise and admiration, and yet soon grows weary, he can scarcely tell why. Our poet, on the contrary, gives out his beauties with a more sparing hand; he is still carrying his reader forward, and just gives him refreshment sufficient to support him to his journey's end. At the end of his course the reader regrets that his way has been so short, he wonders that it gave him so little trouble, and so resolves to go the journey over again. His poetical language is not less correct than his subjects are pleasing. He found it at that period in which it was brought to its highest pitch of refinement; and ever since his time it has been gradually debasing. It is, indeed, amazing, after what has been done by Dryden, Addison, and Pope, to improve and harmonize our native tongue, that their successors should have taken so much pains to involve it into pristine barbarity. These misguided innovators have not been content with restoring antiquated words and phrases, but have indulged themselves in the most licentious transpositions and the harshest constructions, vainly imagining that the more their writings are unlike prose, the more they resemble poetry. They have adopted a language of their own, and call upon mankind for admiration. All those who do not understand them are silent, and those who make out their meaning are willing to praise, to show they understand. From these follies and affectations the poems of Parnell are entirely free: he has considered the language of poetry as the language of life, and conveys the warmest thoughts in the simplest expression. Parnell has written several poems besides those published by Pope, and some of them have been made public with very little credit to his reputation. There are still many more that have not yet seen the light in the possession of Sir John Parnell, his nephew, who, from that laudable zeal which he has for his uncle's reputation, will probably be slow in publishing what he may even suspect will do it injury. Of those which are usually inserted in his works, some are indifferent, and some moderately good, but the greater part are excellent. A slight stricture on the most striking shall conclude this account, which I have already drawn out to a disproportionate length. Hesiod, or the Rise of Woman, is a very fine illustration of a hint from Hesiod. It was one of his earliest productions, and first appeared in a miscellany published by Tonson. Of the three songs that follow, two of them were written upon the lady he afterwards married: they were the genuine dictates of his passion, but are not excellent in their kind. The anacreontic beginning with "When spring came on with fresh delight," is taken from a French poet, whose name I forget, and, as far as I am able to judge of the French language, is better than the original. The anacreontic that follows, 'Gay Bacchus," &c., is also a translation of a Latin poem by Aurelius Augurellus, an Italian poet, beginning with, 66 Invitat olim Bacchus ad cœnam suos Parnell, when he translated it, applied the characters to some of his friends, and as it was written for their entertainment, it probably gave them more pleasure than it has given the public in the perusal. It seems to have more spirit than the original; but it is extraordinary that it was published as an original, and not as a translation. Pope should have acknowledged it, as he knew. The Fairy Tale is, incontestably, one of the finest pieces in any language. The old dialect is not perfectly well preserved; but this is a very slight defect, where all the rest is so excellent. The Pervigilium Veneris (which, by the by, does not belong to Catullus,) is very well versified; and, in general, all Parneli's translations are excellent. The Battle of the Frogs and Mice, which follows, is done as well as the subject would admit; but there is a defect in the translation, which sinks it below the original, and which it was impossible to remedy,-I mean the names of the combatants, which, in the Greek bear a ridiculous allusion their natures, have no force to the Eng reader. A Bacon-eater was a good sa for a mouse, and Pternotractas in G was a very good sounding word, that veyed that meaning. Puffcheek w sound odiously as a name for a frog, yet Physignathos does admirably w the original. The Letter to Mr. Pope is one of the f compliments that ever was paid to a poet: the description of his situation the end of it is very fine, but far from be true. That part of it where he dep his being far from wit and leaning, being far from Pope, gave para offence to his friends at home. Mr. C a gentleman in his neighbourhood, wi thought that he himself had wit, was ve much displeased with Parnell for casti his eyes so far off for a learned frien when he could so conveniently be supplie at home. The translation of a part of the kap of the Lock into monkish verse sevs! show what a master Parnell was th Latin; a copy of verses made in the mat ner is one of the most difficult tries the can possibly be imagined. I am sure that it was written upon the f occasion. Before the Rape of the Loc was yet completed, Pope was read it his friend Swift, who sat very attatvely while Parnell, who happened to bat house, went in and out without seein to take any notice. However, be w very diligently employed in listen was able, from the strength of his meno to bring away the whole descriptic of t Toilet pretty exactly. This he versi in the manner now published in Es and the next day, when Pope was his poem to some friends, Parnell that he had stolen that part scription from an old monkish script. An old paper with the verses was soon brought forth sid was not till after some time that was delivered from the confusion it at first produced. the The Bookworm is another unc ledged translation from a Latin po Beza. It was the fashion with the of the last age to conceal the ence they took their hints or their sub(s. A trifling acknowledgment would e made that lawful prize, which may w be considered as plunder. ers. The Night Piece on Death deserves ery praise, and I should suppose, with y little amendment, might be made to pass all those night pieces and churchd scenes that have since appeared. But the poem of Parnell's best known, d on which his best reputation is unded, is the Hermit. Pope, speakgof this in those manuscript anecdotes ady quoted says, "That the poem very good. The story," continues "was written originally in Spanish, ence, probably, Howel had translated ato prose, and inserted it in one of his Addison liked the scheme, and not disinclined to come into it." wever this may be, Dr. Henry Moore, his Dialogues, has the very same story; I have been informed by some, that originally of Arabian invention. Vith respect to the prose works of nell, I have mentioned them already; fame is too well grounded for any des in them to shake it. I will only add, the Life of Zoilus was written at the est of his friends, and designed as a re upon Dennis and Theobald, with m his club had long been at variance. all end this account with a letter to from Pope and Gay, in which they eavour to hasten him to finish that luction : "LONDON, March 18. DEAR SIR,-I must own I have long d you a letter, but, you must own, have owed me one a good deal longer. ides, I have but two people in the le kingdom of Ireland to take care -the Dean and you; but you have ral who complain of your neglect in land. Mr. Gay complains, Mr. Hart complains, Mr. Jervas complains, Arbuthnot complains, my Lord comns, I complain. (Take notice of this re of iteration when you make your : sermon.) Some say you are in deep ontent at the new turn of affairs; ers, that you are so much in the Archop's good graces, that you will not correspond with any that have seen the last ministry. Some affirm you have quarreled with Pope (whose friends, they observe, daily fall from him on account of his satirical and comical disposition); others, that you are insinuating yourself into the opinion of the ingenious Mr. What-do-ye-call-him. Some think you are preparing your sermons for the press, and others that you will transform them into essays and moral discourses. But the only excuse that I will allow, is your attention to the life of Zoilus. The frogs already seem to croak for their transpor tation to England, and are sensible how much that doctor is cursed and hated, who introduced their species into your nation; therefore, as you dread the wrath of St. Patrick, send them hither, and rid the kingdom of those pernicious and loquacious animals. "I have at length received your poem out of Mr. Addison's hands, which shall be sent as soon as you order it, and in what manner you shall appoint. I shall, in the meantime, give Mr. Tooke a packet for you, consisting of divers merry pieces, Mr. Gay's new farce, Mr. Burnet's letter to Mr. Pope, Mr. Pope's Temple of Fame, Mr. Thomas Burnet's Grumbler on Mr. Gay, and the Bishop of Ailsbury's Elegy, written either by Mr. Cary or some other hand. 66 'Mr. Pope is reading a letter, and, in the meantime, I make use of the pen to testify my uneasiness in not hearing from you. I find success, even in the most trivial things, raises the indignation of scribblers: for I, for my what-d'ye-callit, could neither escape the fury of Mr. Burnet or the German Doctor; then, where will rage end, when Homer is to be translated? Let Zoilus hasten to your friend's assistance, and envious criticism I shall be no more. am in hopes that we may order our affairs so as to meet this summer at the Bath; for Mr. Pope and myself have thoughts of taking a trip thither. You shall preach, and we will write lampoons; for it is esteemed as great an honour to leave the Bath for fear of a broken head, as for a Terræ Filius of Oxford to be expelled. I have no place at court; therefore, that I may not entirely be without one everywhere, show to Sir John Parnell for the generous ass tance he was pleased to give me, in ft nishing me with many materials, when i heard I was about writing the life h uncle; as also to Mr. and Mrs. He relations of our poet; and to my r good friend Mr. Stevens, who, bein:u ornament to letters himself, is very rely turning my sincerest acknowledgments to assist all the attempts of others. "Homer will be published in three weeks." I cannot finish this trifle without re END OF THE LIFE OF DR. PARNELL. |