character he draws, were able to make thofe nice diftinctions which feparate it from all others. The ftrongest minds have ufually the moft ftriking peculiarities, and would confequently afford the richeft materials but in the prefent inftance, from not knowing Doctor Parnell, his peculiarities are gone to the grave with him; and we are obliged to take his character from fuch as knew but little of him, or who, perhaps, could have given very little information if they had known more. Parnell, by what I have been able to collect from my father and uncle, who knew him, was the most capable man in the world to make the happiness of those he converfed with, and the least able to fecure his own. He wanted that evennefs of difpofition which bears disappointment with phlegm, and joy with indifference. He was ever very much elated or depreffed ; and his whole life fpent in agony or rapture. But the turbulence of thefe paffions only affected himself, and never thofe about him: he knew the ridicule of his own character, and very effectually raised the mirth of his companions, as well at his vexations as at his triumphs. How much his company was defired appears from the extenfiveness of his connexions, and the number of his friends. Even before he made any figure in the literary world, his friendship was fought by perfons of every rank and party. The wits at that time differed a good deal from thofe, who are most eminent for their understanding at prefent. It would now be thought a very indifferent fign of a writer's good fenfe to disclaim his private friends for happening to be of a different party in politics; but it was then otherwife, the whig wits held the tory wits in great contempt, and these retaliated in their turn. At the head of one party were Addison, Steele, and Congreve; at that of the other, Pope, Swift, and Arbuthnot. Arbuthnot. Parnell was a friend to both fides, and with a liberality becoming a scholar, fcorned all thofe trifling diftinctions, that are noify for the time, and ridiculous to pofterity. Nor did he emancipate himfelf from these without fome oppofition from home. Having been the fon of a commonwealth's man, his tory connexions on this fide of the water gave his friends in Ireland great offence; they were much enraged to fee him keep company with Pope, and Swift, and Gay; they blamed his undiftinguishing taste, and wondered what pleasure he could find in the con verfation of men who approved the treaty of Utrecht, and difliked the Duke of Marlborough. His converfation is faid to have been extremely pleafing, but in what its peculiar excellence confifted is now unknown. The letters which were written to him by his friends, are full of compliments upon his talents as a companion, and his good-nature as a man. I have several of them now before me. Pope was particularly fond of his company, and feems to regret his abfence more than any of the rest. A letter from him follows thus: ' 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 expoftulate with you a whole day upon your 'inhuman filence; I call it inhuman; nor would you think it lefs, if you were truly fenfible of the uneafinefs it gives me. Did I know you fo ill as to think you proud, I would be much less concern⚫ed than I am able to be, when I know one of the beft-natured men alive neglects me; and if you know me fo ill as to think amifs of me, with regard to my friendship for you, you really do not deferve half the trouble you occafion me. I need not tell you, that both Mr. Gay and myself have written feveral letters in vain; and that we were conftantly enquiring, of all who have feen Ireland, if they faw you, and that (forgotten as we are) we are every day remembering you in our moft agreeable hours. All this is true; as that we are fincerely lovers of you, and deplorers of your abfence, and that we form no with more ardently than that which brings you over to us, and places you in your old feat between us. We have lately had fome diftant hopes of the Dean's defign to revifit England; will not you accompany him? or is England to lofe every thing that has any charms for us, and muft we pray for banishment as a benediction ?-I have once been witnefs of fome, I hope all of your fplenetic hours come, and be a comforter in your turn to me, in mine. I am in fuch an unfettled ftate, that I can't tell if I fhall ever see you, unless it be this year; whether I do or not, be ever affured, you have as large a fhare of my thoughts and good wishes as any man, and as great a portion of gratitude in my heart as would enrich a monarch, could he know where to find it. I fhall not die without teftifying fomething of this nature, and leaving to the world a memorial of the friendship that has been fo great a pleasure and pride to me. It would be like writing my own epitaph, to acquaint you with what I have ' loft fince I faw you, what I have done, what I have thought, where I have lived, and where I now repofe in obfcurity. My friend Jervas, the bearer of this, will inform you of all particulars concerning me; and Mr. Ford is charged with a thoufand loves, and a thousand complaints, and a thousand commiffions to you on my part. They will both tax you with the neglect of fome promifes which were too agreeable to us all to be forgot; if you care for any of us tell them fo, and write fo to me. I can fay no more, but that I love you, and am, in fpite of the longest neglect of happiness, DEAR SIR, Your most faithful affectionate friend, A. POPE. 'Gay is in Devonshire, and from thence he goes to Bath. My father and mother never fail to com6 memorate you.' Among the number of his moft intimate friends was Lord Oxford, whom Pope has fo finely complimented upon the delicacy of his choice. For him thou oft haft bid the world attend, Pope himself was not only exceffively fond of his company, but under feveral literary obligations to him for his affiftance in the tranflation 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 effufions, than with any thing I can hammer out for his amusement. DEAR SIR, Binfield, near Oakingham, Tuesday. I BELIEVE the hurry you were in hindered your giving me a word by the laft poft, fo that I am yet ❝ to learn whether you got well to town, or continue fo 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 unfuc'cessful for your fake; and that at least it may foon be put into other proper hands. For my own, I beg earneftly of you to return to us as foon as poffible. You know how very much I want you; and that, however your bufinefs may depend upon any other, my business depends entirely upon you; and yet ftill "I hope you will find your man, even though I lofe you the mean while. At this time, the more I love you, the more I can fpare you; which alone will, İdare fay, be a reafon to you to let me have you < back the fooner. The minute I loft you, Euftathius with nine hundred pages, and nine thousand contractions of the Greek characters, arose to view! Spondanus, with all his auxiliaries, in number a thousand pages, (value three fhillings), and Dacier's three volumes, Barnes's two, Valterie's three, Cuperus, half in Greek, Leo Allatus, three parts in Greek, Scaliger, Macrobius, and (worfe than them all) Aulus Gellius! all thefe rufhed upon my foul at once, and whelmed me under a fit of the headach. I curfed them all religioufly, damn'd my best friends among the reft, and even blafphemed Homer himself. Dear fir, not only as you are a friend, and a good-natured man, but as you are a chriftian and a divine, come back fpeedily, ' and prevent the increase of my fins; for, at the rate I have begun to rave, I fhall 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 ferious; you have not only left me to the laft degree |