and person have far surpassed even the sanguine all my friends will praise my wisdom, and proexpectations of a father. I left him a boy, but he duce me as the very pattern of discretion to is returned a man: pleasing in his person, harden- others." ed by travel, and polished by adversity. His disap- At dinner, every thing seemed to run on with pointment in love, however, had infused an air of good-humour, harmony, and satisfaction. Every melancholy into his conversation, which seemed at creature in company thought themselves pretty, intervals to interrupt our mutual satisfaction. I and every jest was laughed at. The man in black expected that this could find a cure only from time; sat next his mistress, helped her plate, chimed her but fortune, as if willing to load us with her fa- glass, and jogging her knees and her elbow, he vours, has in a moment repaid every uneasiness whispered something arch in her ear, on which she with rapture. patted his cheek: never was antiquated passion so playful, so harmless, and amusing, as between this reverend couple. Two days after his arrival, the man in black, with his beautiful niece, came to congratulate us upon this pleasing occasion; but, guess our sur- The second course was now called for, and, prise, when my friend's lovely kinswoman was among a variety of other dishes, a fine turkey was found to be the very captive my son had rescued placed before the widow. The Europeans, you from Persia, and who had been wrecked on the know, carve as they eat; my friend, therefore, Wolga, and was carried by the Russian peasants to begged his mistress to help him to a part of the the port of Archangel. Were I to hold the pen of a turkey. The widow, pleased with an opportunity novelist, I might be prolix in describing their feelings of showing her skill in carving (an art upon which at so unexpected an interview; but you may con- it seems she piqued herself), began to cut it up by ceive their joy without my assistance: words were first taking off the leg. "Madam," cries my unable to express their transports, then how can friend, "if I might be permitted to advise, I would words describe it? begin by cutting off the wing, and then the leg When two young persons are sincerely ena- will come off more easily."—" Sir," replies the moured of each other, nothing can give me such widow, "give me leave to understand cutting up a pleasure as seeing them married: whether I know fowl; I always begin with the leg."—"Yes, madthe parties or not, I am happy at thus binding one am," replies the lover, "but if the wing be the link more in the universal chain. Nature has, in most convenient manner, I would begin with the some measure, formed me for a match-maker, and wing.". ."-" Sir," interrupts the lady, "when you given me a soul to sympathize with every mode have fowls of your own, begin with the wing if of human felicity. I instantly, therefore, con- you please, but give me leave to take off the leg; sulted the man in black, whether we might not I hope I am not to be taught at this time of day." crown their mutual wishes by marriage: his soul" Madam," interrupts he, "we are never too old seems formed of similar materials with mine; to be instructed."-" Old, sir!" interrupts the other, he instantly gave his consent, and the next day "who is old, sir? when I die of age, I know of was appointed for the solemnization of their nup- some that will quake for fear: if the leg does not tials. come off, take the turkey to yourself.”—“Madam,” All the acquaintances which I had made since replied the man in black, "I do not care a farthing my arrival were present at this gay solemnity. whether the leg or the wing comes off; if you are The little beau was constituted master of the cere- for the leg first, why you shall have the argument, monies, and his wife, Mrs. Tibbs, conducted the even though it be as I say."-" As for the matter entertainment with proper decorum. The man in of that," cries the widow, "I do not care a fig black, and the pawnbroker's widow, were very whether you are for the leg off or on; and, sprightly and tender upon this occasion. The friend, for the future keep your distance."— widow was dressed up under the direction of Mrs. "O," replied the other, "that is easily done Tibbs; and as for her lover, his face was set off it is only removing to the other end of the by the assistance of a pig-tail wig, which was lent table; and so, madam, your most obedient humble by the little beau, to fit him for making love with servant." proper formality. The whole company easily per- Thus was this courtship of an age destroyed in ceived that it would be a double wedding before all one moment; for this dialogue effectually broke off was over, and, indeed, my friend and the widow the match between this respectable couple, that seemed to make no secret of their passion; he even had been but just concluded. The smallest accicalled me aside, in order to know my candid opin- dents disappoint the most important treaties. on, whether I did not think him a little too old to However, though it in some measure interbe married? "As for my own part," continued rupted the general satisfaction, it no ways feste, "I know I am going to play the fool, but sened the happiness of the youthful couple; and, by the young lady's looks, I could per- be capable of supplying all the real, but not the ecive she was not entirely displeased with this fictitious, demands of happiness. As for myself, interruption. the world being but one city to me, I do not much In a few hours the whole transaction seemed en- care in which of the streets I happen to reside: 1 tirely forgotten, and we have all since enjoyed those shall, therefore, spend the remainder of my life in satisfactions which result from a consciousness of examining the manners of different countries, and making each other happy. My son and his fair have prevailed upon the man in black to be my partner are fixed here for life: the man in black companion. "They must often change," says has given them up a small estate in the country, Confucius, “who would be constant in happiness which, added to what I was able to bestow, will or wisdom." Adieu. THE LIFE OF THOMAS PARNELL, D. D. ARCHDEACON OF CLOGHER. [PRINTED IN 1770.] THE life of a scholar seldom abounds with ad-teen, which is much sooner than usual, as at that venture. His fame is acquired in solitude. And university they are a great deal stricter in their exthe historian, who only views him at a distance, must be content with a dry detail of actions by which he is scarcely distinguished from the rest of mankind. But we are fond of talking of those who have given us pleasure, not that we have any thing important to say, but because the subject is pleasing. amination for entrance, than either at Oxford or Cambridge. His progress through the college course of study was probably marked with but little splendour; his imagination might have been too warm to relish the cold logic of Burgersdicius, or, the dreary subtleties of Smiglesius; but it is certain, that as a classical scholar few could equal him. THOMAS PARNELL, D. D. was descended from His own compositions show this; and the deference an ancient family, that had for some centuries been which the most eminent men of his time paid settled at Congleton in Cheshire. His father, him upon that head, put it beyond a doubt. He Thomas Parnell, who had been attached to the took the degree of master of arts the ninth of Jucommonwealth party, upon the Restoration went |ly, 1700; and in the same year he was ordained over to Ireland; thither he carried a large person- a deacon, by William bishop of Derry, having a al fortune, which he laid out in lands in that king-dispensation from the primate, as being under dom. The estates he purchased there, as also that twenty-three years of age. He was admitted into of which he was possessed in Cheshire, descended priest's orders about three years after, by William to our poet who was his eldest son, and still re- archbishop of Dublin; and on the ninth of Febru main in the family. Thus want, which has com- ary, 1705, he was collated by Sir George Ashe, pelled many of our greatest men into the service of bishop of Clogher, to the archdeaconry of Clogher. the muses, had no influence upon Parnell; he was About that time also he married Miss Anne a poet by inclination. Minchin, a young lady of great merit and beauty, He was born in Dublin, in the year 1679, and by whom he had two sons, who died young, and received the first rudiments of his education at the one daughter who is still living. His wife died some school of Doctor Jones in that city. Surprising time before him; and her death is said to have things are told us of the greatness of his memory made so great an impression on his spirits, that it at that early period; as his being able to repeat by served to hasten his own. On the thirty-first of heart forty lines of any book at the first reading; of May, 1716, he was presented, by his friend and his getting the third book of the Iliad in one night's time, which was given in order to confine him for some days. These stories, which are told of almost every celebrated wit, may perhaps be true. But for my own part, I never found any of those prodigies of parts, although I have known enow, that were desirous, among the ignorant, of being thought so. There is one presumption, however, of the early maturity of his understanding. He was admitted a member of the college of Dublin at the age of thir patron Archbishop King, to the vicarage of Finglass, a benefice worth about four hundred pounds a-year in the diocese of Dublin, but he lived to enjoy his preferment a very short time. He died at Chester, in July, 1717, on his way to Ireland, and was buried in Trinity church in that town, without any monument to mark the place of his interment. As he died without male issue, his estate devolved to his only nephew, Sir John Parnell, baronet, whose father was younger brother to the archdeacon, and one of the justices of the King's trifling distinctions, that are noisy for the time, and bench in Ireland. ridiculous to posterity. Nor did he emancipate Such is the very unpoetical detail of the life of a himself from these without some opposition from poet. Some dates, and some few facts scarcely home. Having been the son of a commonwealth's more interesting than those that make the orna-man, his tory connexions on this side of the water ments of a country tombstone, are all that remain gave his friends in Ireland great offence: they were of one, whose labours now begin to excite univer- much enraged to see him keep company with Pope, sal curiosity. A poet, while living, is seldom an and Swift, and Gay; they blamed his undistinobject sufficiently great to attract much attention; guishing taste, and wondered what pleasure he his real merits are known but to a few, and these could find in the conversation of men who apare generally sparing in their praises. When his proved the treaty of Utrecht, and disliked the Duke fame is increased by time, it is then too late to in- of Marlborough. His conversation is said to have vestigate the peculiarities of his disposition; the been extremely pleasing, but in what its peculiar dews of the morning are past, and we vainly try excellence consisted is now unknown. The let to continue the chase by the meridian splendour. ters which were written to him by his friends, are There is scarcely any man but might be made full of compliments upon his talents as a comthe subject of a very interesting and amusing his- panion, and his good-nature as a man. I have tory, if the writer, besides a thorough acquaintance several of them now before me. Pope was partiwith the character he draws, were able to make cularly fond of his company, and seems to regret those nice distinctions which separate it from all his absence more than any of the rest. others. The strongest minds have usually the A letter from him follows thus: most striking peculiarities, and would consequently afford the richest materials: but in the present instance, from not knowing Dr. Parnell, his peculiarities are gone to the grave with him; and we are obliged to take his character from such as knew but little of him, or who, perhaps, could have given very little information if they had known more. "Dear Sir, "London, July 29. "I wish it were not as ungenerous as vain to complain too much of a man that forgets me, but I could expostulate with you a whole day upon your inhuman silence: I call it inhuman; nor would you Parnell, by what I have been able to collect from think it less, if you were truly sensible of the unmy father and uncle, who knew him, was the most easiness it gives me. Did I know you so ill as to capable man in the world to make the happiness think you proud, I would be much less concerned of those he conversed with, and the least able to than I am able to be, when I know one of the bestsecure his own. He wanted that evenness of dis-natured men alive neglects me; and if you know position which bears disappointment with phlegm, and joy with indifference. He was ever very much elated or depressed; and his whole life spent in agony or rapture. But the turbulence of these passions only affected himself, and never those about him: he knew the ridicule of his own charac-ly inquiring, of all who have seen Ireland, if they ter, and very effectually raised the mirth of his companions, as well at his vexations as at his triumphs. me so ill as to think amiss of me, with regard to my friendship for you, you really do not deserve half the trouble you occasion me. I need not tell you, that both Mr. Gay and myself have written several letters in vain; and that we were constant saw you, and that (forgotten as we are) we are every day remembering you in our most agreeable hours. All this is true; as that we are sincerely How much his company was desired, appears lovers of you, and deplorers of your absence, and from the extensiveness of his connexions, and the that we form no wish more ardently than that number of his friends. Even before he made any which brings you over to us, and places you in figure in the literary world, his friendship was your old seat between us. We have lately had sought by persons of every rank and party. The some distant hopes of the Dean's design to revisit wits at that time differed a good deal from those England; will you not accompany him? or is Engwho are most eminent for their understanding at land to lose every thing that has any charms for us, present. It would now be thought a very indif- and must we pray for banishment as a benediction? ferent sign of a writer's good sense, to disclaim his—I have once been witness of some, I hope all of private friends for happening to be of a different your splenetic hours: come, and be a comforter in party in politics; but it was then otherwise, the your turn to me, in mine. I am in such an unwhig wits held the tory wits in great contempt, settled state, that I can't tell if I shall ever see you, and these retaliated in their turn. At the head of unless it be this year: whether I do or not, be ever one party were Addison, Steele, and Congreve; at assured, you have as large a share of my thought> that of the other, Pope, Swift, and Arbuthnot. and good wishes as any man, and as great a porParnell was a friend to both sides, and with a tion of gratitude in my heart as would enrich a liberality becoming a scholar, scorned all those monarch, could he know where to find it. I shaj not die without testifying something of this nature, | I beg earnestly of you to return to us as soon as and leaving to the world a memorial of the friend- possible. You know how very much I want you; ship that has been so great a pleasure and pride to and that, however your business may depend upon me. It would be like writing my own epitaph, to any other, my business depends entirely upon you; acquaint you with what I have lost since I saw and yet still I hope you will find your man, even you, what I have done, what I have thought, where though I lose you the mean while. At this time, I have lived, and where I now repose in obscurity. the more I love you, the more I can spare you; My friend Jervas, the bearer of this, will inform which alone will, I dare say, be a reason to you to you of all particulars concerning me; and Mr. Ford let me have you back the sooner. The minute 1 is charged with a thousand loves, and a thousand lost you, Eustathius with nine hundred pages, and complaints, and a thousand commissions to you on nine thousand contractions of the Greek characmy part. They will both tax you with the neglect ters, arose to view! Spondanus, with all his auxof some promises which were too agreeable to us iliaries, in number a thousand pages (value three all to be forgot: if you care for any of us, tell them shillings) and Dacier's three volumes, Barnes's so, and write so to me. I can say no more, but two, Valterie's three, Cuperus, half in Greek, Leo that I love you, and am, in spite of the longest ne- Allatus, three parts in Greek, Scaliger, Macrobius, glect of happiness, "Dear Sir, your most faithful "and affectionate friend, and servant, "Gay is in Devonshire, and from thence he goes to Bath. My father and mother never fail to commemorate you." Among the number of his most intimate friends was Lord Oxford, whom Pope has so finely complimented upon the delicacy of his choice. For him thou oft hast bid the world attend, and (worse than them all) Aulus Gellius! All these rushed upon my soul at once, and whelmed me under a fit of the headach. I cursed them religiously, damned my best friends among the rest, and even blasphemed Homer himself. Dear sir, not only as you are a friend, and a good-natured man, but as you are a Christian and a divine, come back speedily, and prevent the increase of my sins; for, at the rate I have begun to rave, I shall not only damn all the poets and commentators who have gone before me, but be damn'd myself by all who come after me. To be serious; you have not only left me to the last degree impatient for your return, who at all times should have been so (though never so much as since I knew you in best health here,) but you have wrought several miracles upon our family; you have made old people fond of a young and gay person, and inveterate papists of a clergyman of the Church of England; even Nurse herself is in danger of being in love in her old age, and (for all I know) would even marry Dennis for your sake, because he is your man, and loves his master. In short, come down forthwith, or give me good reasons for delaying, though but for a day or two, by the next post. If I find them just, I will come up to you, though you know how precious my time is at present; my hours were never worth so much money before; Pope himself was not only excessively fond of his company, but under several literary obligations to him for his assistance in the translation of Homer. Gay was obliged to him upon another account; for, being always poor, he was not above receiving from Parnell the copy-money which the latter got for his writings. Several of their letters, now before me, are proofs of this; and as they have never appeared before, it is probable the reader will be much better pleased with their idle effusions, than with any thing I can hammer out for his but perhaps you are not sensible of this, who give amusement. "Binfield, near Oakingham, Tuesday. "DEAR SIR, away your own works. You are a generous au- "Your most obliged and affectionate "I believe the hurry you were in hindered your giving me a word by the last post, so that I am yet to learn whether you got well to town, or continue so there? I very much fear both for your health and your quiet; and no man living can be more truly concerned in any thing that touches either than myself. I would comfort myself, however, with hoping, that your business may not be un- rot, Mr. Ford, and the true genuine shepherd, successful, for your sake; and that at least it may J. Gay of Devon. I expect him down with soon be put into other proper hands. For my own, you." "My hearty service to the Dean, Dr. Arbuth |