THE

LIFE OF THOMAS PARNELL, D. D.

ARCHDEACON OF CLOGHER.

[PRINTED IN 1770.]

THOMAS PARNELL, D. D. was descended from an ancient family, that had for some centuries been settled at Congleton in Cheshire. His father, Thomas Parnell, who had been attached to the commonwealth party, upon the Restoration went over to Ireland; thither he carried a large personal fortune, which he laid out in lands in that kingdom. The estates he purchased there, as also that of which he was possessed in Cheshire, descended to our poet who was his eldest son, and still remain in the family. Thus want, which has compelled many of our greatest men into the service of the muses, had no influence upon Parnell; he was a poet by inclination.

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, amination for entrance, than either at Oxford a must be content with a dry detail of actions by Cambridge. His progress through the college which he is scarcely distinguished from the rest of course of study was probably marked with but little mankind. But we are fond of talking of those splendour; his imagination might have been too who have given us pleasure, not that we have any warm to relish the cold logic of Burgersdicius, or thing important to say, but because the subject is the dreary subtleties of Smiglesius; but it is cerpleasing. tain, that as a classical scholar few could equal him. His own compositions show this; and the deference which the most eminent men of his time paid him upon that head, put it beyond a doubt. He took the degree of master of arts the ninth of July, 1700; and in the same year he was ordained a deacon, by William bishop of Derry, having a dispensation from the primate, as being under twenty-three years of age. He was admitted into priest's orders about three years after, by William archbishop of Dublin; and on the ninth of February, 1705, he was collated by Sir George Ashe, bishop of Clogher, to the archdeaconry of Clogher. About that time also he married Miss Anne 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 patron Archbishop King, to the vicarage of Fintime, which was given in order to confine him for glass, a benefice worth about four hundred pounds some days. These stories, which are told of almost a-year in the diocese of Dublin, but he lived to enevery celebrated wit, may perhaps be true. But for joy his preferment a very short time. He died at my own part, I never found any of those prodigies of Chester, in July, 1717, on his way to Ireland, and parts, although I have known enow, that were de- was buried in Trinity church in that town, withsirous, among the ignorant, of being thought so. out 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

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

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 letto 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 most striking peculiarities, and would consequently afford the richest materials: but in the present instance, from not knowing Dr. Parnell, his peculi-"Dear Sir, arities 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.

A letter from him follows thus:

"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, me so ill as to think amiss of me, with regard to and joy with indifference. He was ever very much my friendship for you, you really do not deserve elated or depressed; and his whole life spent in half the trouble you occasion me. I need not tell agony or rapture. But the turbulence of these you, that both Mr. Gay and myself have written passions only affected himself, and never those several letters in vain; and that we were constantabout 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 saw you, and that (forgotten as we are) we are companions, as well at his vexations as at his every day remembering you in our most agreeable triumphs. 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 thoughts 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 shall

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 charac my 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 that I love you, and am, in spite of the longest neglect of happiness,

"Dear Sir, your most faithful

"and affectionate friend, and servant,
"A. POPE.

"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,
Fond to forget the statesman in the friend;
For Swift and him despised the farce of state,
The sober follies of the wise and great;
Dextrous the craving, fawning crowd to quit,
And pleased to 'scape from flattery to wit.

two, Valterie's three, Cuperus, half in Greek, Leo
Allatus, three parts in Greek, Scaliger, Macrobius,
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 re-
ligiously, 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 Pope himself was not only excessively fond of papists of a clergyman of the Church of England; fond of a young and gay person, and inveterate his company, but under several literary obligations to him for his assistance in the translation of Ho- her old age, and (for all I know) would even mareven Nurse herself is in danger of being in love in mer. Gay was obliged to him upon another ac-ry Dennis for your sake, because he is your man, count; for, being always poor, he was not above and loves his master. In short, come down forthreceiving from Parnell the copy-money which the with, or give me good reasons for delaying, though latter got for his writings. Several of their letters, but for a day or two, by the next post. If I find 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

amusement.

"Binfield, near Oakingham, Tuesday. "DEAR SIR,

"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,

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;
but perhaps you are not sensible of this, who give
away your own works. You are a generous au-
thor; I a hackney scribbler; you a Grecian, and
bred at a university; I a poor Englishman, of my
own educating: you a reverend parson, I a wag:
in short, you are Dr. Parnelle (with an e at the
end of your name,) and I

"Your most obliged and affectionate
"Friend and faithful servant,
"A. POPE.

"My hearty service to the Dean, Dr. Arbuth

with hoping, that your business may not be un- not, 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."

We may easily perceive by this, that Parnell world, whenever I can find a proper opportunity was not a little necessary to Pope in conducting of publishing them.

"I shall very soon print an entire collection of his translation; however, he has worded it so ambiguously, that it is impossible to bring the charge my own madrigals, which I look upon as making directly against him. But he is much more expli- my last will and testament, since in it I shall give cit when he mentions his friend Gay's obligations all I ever intend to give (which I'll beg your's and in another letter, which he takes no pains to con- the Dean's acceptance of). You must look on ceal.

"DEAR SIR,

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 am, Dear Sir, "Most entirely, your affectionate, "Faithful, obliged friend and servant, "A. POPE."

"I write to you with the same warmth, the same zeal of good-will and friendship, with which I used to converse with you two years ago, and can't "I beg our correspondence may be more frethink myself absent, when I feel you so much at my heart. The picture of you which Jervas brought quent than it has been of late. I am sure my esme over, is infinitely less lively a representation teem and love for you never more deserved it from than that I carry about with me, and which rises you, or more prompted it from you. I desired our to my mind whenever I think of you. I have friend Jervas (in the greatest hurry of my busimany an agreeable reverie through those woods ness) to say a great deal in my name, both to yourand downs where we once rambled together; my self and the Dean, and must once more repeat the head is sometimes at the Bath, and sometimes at assurances to you both, of an unchanging friendLetcomb, where the Dean makes a great part of ship and unalterable esteem. my imaginary entertainment, this being the cheapest way of treating me; I hope he will not be displeased at this manner of paying my respects to him, instead of following my friend Jervas's example, which, to say the truth, I have as much incliFrom these letters to Parnell, we may conclude, nation to do as I want ability. I have been ever since December last in greater variety of business as far as their testimony can go, that he was an than any such men as you (that is, divines and agreeable, a generous, and a sincere man. Indeed, philosophers) can possibly imagine a reasonable he took care that his friends should always see him creature capable of. Gay's play, among the rest, to the best advantage; for, when he found his fits has cost much time and long-suffering, to stem a of spleen and uneasiness, which sometimes lasted tide of malice and party, that certain authors have for weeks together, returning, he returned with all raised against it; the best revenge upon such fel-expedition to the remote parts of Ireland, and lows is now in my hands, I mean your Zoilus, there made out a gloomy kind of satisfaction, in which really transcends the expectation I had con- giving hideous descriptions of the solitude to which ceived of it. I have put it into the press, begin- he retired. It is said of a famous painter, that, ning with the poem Batrachom; for you seem, by being confined in prison for debt, his whole dethe first paragraph of the dedication to it, to design light consisted in drawing the faces of his credito prefix the name of some particular person. I tors in caricatura. It was just so with Parnell, beg therefore know for whom you intend it, that From many of his unpublished pieces which I the publication may not be delayed on this account, bave seen, and from others that have appeared, it and this as soon as is possible. Inform me also would seem, that scarcely a bog in his neighbourupon what terms I am to deal with the bookseller, hood was left without reproach, and scarcely a and whether you design the copy-money for Gay, mountain reared its head unsung. "I can easily," as you formerly talked; what number of books you says Pope, in one of his letters, in answer to a would have yourself, etc. I scarce see any thing dreary description of Parnell's, "I can easily image to be altered in this whole piece; in the poems you to my thoughts the solitary hours of your eremitisent I will take the liberty you allow me: the story cal life in the mountains, from some parallel to it of Pandora, and the Eclogue upon Health, are two in my own retirement at Binfield:" and in another of the most beautiful things I ever read. I do not place, "We are both miserably enough situated, say this to the prejudice of the rest, but as I have God knows; but of the two evils, I think the soliread these oftener. Let me know how far my tudes of the South are to be preferred to the deserts commission is to extend, and be confident of my of the West." In this manner Pope answered punctual performance of whatever you enjoin. I him in the tone of his own complaints; and these must add a paragraph on this occasion in regard to descriptions of the imagined distress of his situaMr. Ward, whose verses have been a great plea- tion served to give him a temporary relief; they sure to me; I will contrive they shall be so to the threw off the blame from himself, and laid upon

fortune and accident a wretchedness of his own creating.

I

appoint; don't let me have two disappointments. I have longed to hear from you, and to that intent But though this method of quarrelling in his teased you with three or four letters: but, having poems with his situation, served to relieve himself, no answer, I feared both yours and my letters yet it was not easily endured by the gentlemen of might have miscarried. I hope my performance the neighbourhood, who did not care to confess will please the Dean, whom I often wished for, and themselves his fellow-sufferers. He received many to whom I would have often wrote, but for the mortifications upon that account among them; for, same reasons I neglected writing to you. I hope being naturally fond of company, he could not en- I need not tell you how I love you, and how dure to be without even theirs, which, however, glad I shall be to hear from you: which, next to among his English friends, he pretended to despise. the seeing you, would be the greatest satisfaction In fact, his conduct, in this particular, was rather to your most affectionate friend and humble sersplenetic than wise: he had either lost the art to vant,

engage, or did not employ his skill in securing

"J.G."

those more permanent, though more humble con- "DEAR MR. ARCHDEACON, nexions, and sacrificed, for a month or two in | Though my proportion of this epistle should England, a whole year's happiness by his country be but a sketch in miniature, yet I take up this fire-side at home. half page, having paid my club with the good comHowever, what he permitted the world to see pany both for our dinner of chops and for this paof his life was elegant and splendid; his fortune per. The poets will give you lively descriptions (for a poet) was very considerable, and it may in their way; I shall only acquaint you with that easily be supposed he lived to the very extent of which is directly my province. I have just set the it. The fact is, his expenses were greater than last hand to a couplet, for so I may call two nymphs his income, and his successor found the estate in one piece. They are Pope's favourites, and somewhat impaired at his decease. As soon as though few, you will guess must have cost me more ever he had collected in his annual revenues, he pains than any nymphs can be worth. He has immediately set out for England, to enjoy the com- been so unreasonable as to expect that I should pany of his dearest friends, and laugh at the more have made them as beautiful upon canvass as he prudent world that were minding business and has done upon paper. If this same Mr. P————— gaining money. The friends to whom, during should omit to write for the dear frogs, and the the latter part of his life, he was chiefly attached, Pervigilium, I must entreat you not to let me lanwere Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, Jervas, and Gay. guish for them, as I have done ever since they Among these he was particularly happy, his mind crossed the seas: remember by what neglects, etc. was entirely at ease, and gave a loose to every harm-we missed them when we lost you, and therefore less folly that came uppermost. Indeed, it was a I have not yet forgiven any of those triflers that let society in which, of all others, a wise man might them escape and run those hazards. I am going be most foolish, without incurring any danger or on the old rate, and want you and the Dean procontempt. Perhaps the reader will be pleased to digiously, and am in hopes of making you a visit see a letter to him from a part of this junto, as this summer, and of hearing from you both, now there is something striking even in the levities of you are together. Fortescue, I am sure, will be genius. It comes from Gay, Jervas, Arbuthnot, concerned that he is not in Cornhill, to set his hand and Pope, assembled at a chop-house near the Ex- to these presents, not only as a witness, but as a change, and is as follows: "Serviteur tres humble, "C. JERVAS"

"MY DEAR SIR,

"I was last summer in Devonshire, and am this "It is so great an honour to a poor Scotchman winter at Mrs. Bonyer's. In the summer I wrote to be remembered at this time of day, especially by a poem, and in the winter I have published it, an inhabitant of the Glacialis Ierne, that I take it which I have sent to you by Dr. Elwood. In the very thankfully, and have, with my good friends, summer I ate two dishes of toad-stools of my own remembered you at our table in the chop-house in gathering, instead of mushrooms; and in the win- Exchange-alley. There wanted nothing to comter I have been sick with wine, as I am at this time, plete our happiness but your company, and our blessed be God for it! as I must bless God for all dear friend the Dean's. I am sure the whole enthings. In the summer I spoke truth to damsels, tertainment would have been to his relish. Gay in the winter I told lies to ladies. Now you know has got so much money by his Art of Walking the where I have been, and what I have done, I shall Streets, that he is ready to set up his equipage; he tell you what I intend to do the ensuing summer; is just going to the Bank to negociate some exI propose to do the same thing I did last, which change-bills. Mr. Pope delays his second volume was to meet you in any part of England you would of his Homer till the martial spirit of the rebels is