count, and this as soon as is possible. Inform me also upon what terms I am to deal with the bookseller, and whether you design the copy-money for Gay, as you formerly talked, what number of books you would have yourself, &c. I scarce see any thing to be altered in this whole piece; in the poems you sent I will take the liberty you allow me: the story of Pandora, and the Eclogue upon Health, are two of the most beautiful things I ever read. I do not say this to the prejudice of the rest, but ⚫asI have read these oftener. Let me know how farmy commission is to extend, and be confident of my punctual performance of whatever you enjoin. I must add a paragraph on this occasion in regard to Mr. Ward, whose verses have been a great pleasure to me; I will contrive they shall be so to the world, whenever I can find a proper opportunity of publishing them.

6

'I shall very soon print in entire collection of my own madrigals, which I look upon as making my last will and testament, since in it I shall give all I ever intend to give, (which I'll beg your's and the Dean's acceptance of). You must look on me no more a poet, but a plain commoner, who lives upon his own, and fears and flatters no man. I hope ⚫ before I die to discharge the debt I owe to Homer, and get upon the whole just fame enough to serve for an annuity for my own time, though I leave nothing to posterity.

I beg our correspondence may be more frequent than it has been of late. I am sure my esteem and love for you never more deserved it from you, or more prompted it from you. I desired our friend Jervas (in the greatest hurry of my business) to say a great deal in my name, both to yourself and the Dean, and must once more repeat the as

6 surances

surances to you both, of an unchanging friendship and unalterable esteem.

I am, dear Sir, most entirely,

• Your affectionate, faithful,

From these letters to Parnell, we may conclude, as far as their testimony can go, that he was an agreeable, a generous, and a sincere man. Indeed, he took care that his friends should always see him to the best advantage; for, when he found his fits of spleen and uneasiness, which sometimes lasted for weeks together, returning, he returned with all expedition to the remote parts of Ireland, and there made out a gloomy kind of satisfaction, in giving hideous descriptions of the solitude to which he retired. It is said of a famous painter, that, being confined in prison for debt, his whole delight consisted in drawing the faces of his creditors in caricatura. It was just so with Parnell. From many of his unpublished pieces which I have seen, and from others that have appeared, it would seem, that scarcely a bog in his neighbourhood was left without reproach, and scarcely a mountain reared its head unsung. • I can easily,' says Pope, in one of his letters, in answer to a dreary description of Parnell's, I can easily image to my thoughts the solitary hours of your eremetical life in • the mountains, from some parallel to it in my own • retirement at Binfield:' and in another place, We ' are both miserably enough situated, God knows ; 'but of the two evils, I think the solitudes of the

South are to be preferred to the deserts of the West.' In this manner Pope answered him in the tone of his own complaints; and these descriptions of the imagined distress of his situation served to give him a temporary

temporary relief; they threw off the blame from himself, and laid upon fortune and accident a wretchedness of his own creating.

But though this method of quarrelling in his poems with his situation served to releve himself, yet it was not easily endured by the gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who did not care to confess themselves his fellow-sufferers. He received many mortifications upon that account among them; for, being naturally fondofcompany,he could not endure to be without even theirs, which however, among his English friends, he pretended to despise. In fact, his conduct, in this particular, was rather splenetic than wise; he had either lost the art to engage, or dd not employ his skill in securing those more permanent, though more humble connexions, and sacrificed for a month or two in England, a whole year's happiness by his country fire-side at home.

cease.

However, what he permitted the world to see of his life was elegant and splendid; his fortune (for a poet) was very considerable, and it may easily be supposed he lived to the very extent of it. The fact is, his expences were greater than his incone, and his successor found the estate somewhat impaired at his deAs soon as ever he had collected in his annual revenues, he immediately set out for England, to enjoy the company of his dearest friends, and laugh at the more prudent world that were minding business and gaining money. The friends to whom, during the latter part of his life, he was chiefly attached, were Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, Jervas, and Gay. Among these he was particularly happy, his mind was entirely at ease, and gave a loose to every harmless folly that came uppermost. Indeed, it was a society, in which, of all others, a wise man might be most foolish without incurring any danger or contempt. Perhaps the reader will be pleased to see a letter to him from a part

a part of this junto, as there is something striking even in the levities of genius. It comes from Gay, Jervas, Arbuthnot, and Pope, assembled at a chophouse near the Exchange, and is as follows:

• MY DEAR SIR,

'I WAS last summer in Devonshire, and am this 'winter at Mrs. Boyer's. In the summer I wrote ' a poem, and in the winter I have published it; ' which I have sent to you by Dr. Elwood. In the C summer I ate two dishes of toad-stools of my own gathering, instead of mushrooms; and in the win'ter I have been sck with wine, as I am at this time, blessed be God for it, as I must bless God for all things. In the summer I spoke truth to damsels; in the winter I old lies to ladies. Now you know 'where I have been, and what I have done. I shall 'tell you what I intend to do the ensuing summer; "I propose to do the same thing I did last, which was 'to meet you in any part of England, you would appoint; don't et me have two disappointments. I ' have longed to hear from you, and to that intent I 'teazed you with three or four letters; but, having no answer, I feared both yours and my letters might have miscarried. I hope my performance will please 'the Dean, whom I often wished for, and to whom 'I would have often wrote, but for the same reasons 'I neglected writing to you. I hope I need not tell 6 you how I love you, and how glad I shall be to hear from you; which, next to the seeing you, 'would be the greatest satisfaction to your most af 'fectionate friend and humble servant, J. G.

• DEAR MR. Archdeacon,

Though my proportion of this epistle should be but a sketch in miniature, yet I take up half this 6 page

.

page, having paid my club with the good com< pany both for our dinner of chops and for this paper. 'The poets will give you lively descriptions in their way; I shall only acquaint you with that which is 'directly my province. I have just set the last hand 'to a couplet, for so I may call two nymphs in one piece. They are Pope's favourites: and though 'few, you will guess must have cost me more pains ⚫ than any nymphs can be worth. He has been so un'reasonable asto expect that I should have made them as beautiful upon canvas, as he has done upon paper. If this same Mr. P― should omit to write for the dear frogs, and the Pervigilium, I must entreat you not to let me languish for them, as I have done ' ever since they crossed the seas: remember by 'what neglects, &c. we missed them when we 'lost you, and therefore I have not yet forgiven any ' of those triflers that let them escape and run those hazards. I am going on the old rate, and want you and the Dean prodigiously, and am in hopes ' of making you a visit this summer, and of hearing from you both now you are together. Fortescue, I am sure, will be concerned that he is not in Cornhill, to set his hand to these presents, 'not only as a witness, but as a

Serviteur tres humble,

'C. JERVAS."

It is so great an honour to a poor Scotchman to 'be remembered at this time a-day, especially by an ' inhabitant of the Glacialis Ierne, that I take it very thankfully, and have, with my goodfriends, remem'bered you at our table in the chop-house in ExchangeAlley. There wanted nothing to complete our happiness but your company, and our dear friend the Dean's. I am sure the whole entertainment

• would