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this short space, he attained a share of fame, equal to what most of his contemporaries were a long life in acquiring. He died at Chester, on his way to Ireland, in July 1717, in the 38thyear of his ago, and was buried in Trinity Church in that city, without any monument to mark the place of his iaterment.

As he died without male issue, his estate devolved to his only nephew, Sir John Parnell, Bart. whose father was younger brother to the Archdeacon, and one of the justices of the King's Bench in Ireland.

He left many compositions behind him, of which Pope selected those which he thought best, and published them in one volume 8vo., 1721, with a dedication to the Earl of Oxford. A posthumous volume was printed at Dublin, in 1758. And both these volumes united, with several additional poems, collected by Mr. Nichols, were printed in the collection of the “ English Poets,” 1779 and 1790.

Parnell was a man of very great benevolence, and of very agrecable manners. His conversation is said to have been extremely pleasing, but in what its peculiar excellence consisted, is now unknown. His connections were extensive, and his friends numerous and respectable. He was intimately ac. quainted with Addison, Steele and Congreve, and with Pope, Swife and Arbuthnot. Joined by kindred talents, and qualities, he loved, eíteemed, and revered his friends; and was by them loved, etteemed, and revered. He was respected by the world as a man of superior endowments. To talents, learning, and virtue were joined an ample estate, and considerable preferments in the church. Though not a very great economist, he was by no means fo profuse, as to have materially reduced his fortune. Goldsmith says, “ he was the most capable man in the world to make the happiness of those he conversed with, and the least able to secure his own. He wanted tha: evenness of disposition, 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 tur. bulence of these passions only affected himself, and never those 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. Indeed he took care, that his friends should see him to the bell advantage ; for when he found his firs of spleen and uneasiness, which sometimes lasted for wecks togee ther, he returned, with all expedition, to the remote parts of Ireland, and then made out a gloomy kind of satisfaction, in giving hideous descriptions of the solitude to which he retired. Scarce a bag in his neighbourhood was left without reproach, and scarce a mountain reared its bead unfung."

"I have been once witness,” says Pope in one of his letters to him, “ of some, I hope all your splenetic hours; come and be a comforter to me in mine.” In answer to one of his dreary descriptions, he says, “I can easily image to my thoughts, the folitary hours of your cremetical life in the mountains, from something parallel to it in my own retirement at Binficld;" and in another place, * We are both miserable 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 his imaginary distresses served to relieve him. self, yet they were not so easily endured by the gentlemen of the neighbourhood, who did not care to confess themselves his fellow sufferers. He received many mortifications on that account among them; for being naturally fond of company, he could not endure to be without even theirs, which, however, among his English friends, he affected to despise. His conduct, in this particular, was rather splendid than wise; he had either lost the art to engage, or did not employ his skill in securing those more permanent, though more hunible connections; and sacrificed, for a month or two, in England, a whole year's happiness by his country fireside.

The profe writings of Pernell, arc his papers in the Spectator and Guardian, E Pay on Homer, Life of Zoilus, and Remarks of Zoilus. In general they discover no very great degree of force or comprehenfiveness of mind; but they teen with imaginatin, and how great learning, good sense, and knowledge of mankind. The Life of Zoilus was writion at the request of his friends, and designed as a satire against Theobald and Dennis, with whom his club had been lorg at variance. Confidered as a poet, Parnell is not distinguished for strength of intellcct or fertility of invention,

His talle was delicate, and refined by a careful perusal of the ancient classics. His admiration of those models of fine writing, led to an imitation so close, as often to preclude originality. There is little of novelty in the thoughts, the imagery, or the sentiments of Parnell. But the thoughts are just; the images, though not great, are beautiful, well selected, and happily applied; the sentiments, though not bold or impaflioned, are natural and agreeable. The moral tendency is excellent, the vcrfification is sweet and harmonious, and the language pure, proper, and corred.

The Rise of Woman was one of his carliest productions. It is a very fine illustration of a hint from Hefied. The Anacreontic, Wben spring comes on with frese delight, is taken from the French, but fu. perior to the original. The imagery is beautiful, and the sentiments natural and pleasing. Gay Baccbus, &c. is a translation from Augurellus ; but the latter part is purely Parnell's. The Fairy Tale is incontestibly one of the finest pieces in any language. Perhaps none of his performances discover more genius. Wit and virtue, without beauty, becoming amiable in the eyes of a mistress, in preference to beauty without wit and virtue, is finely described. The old diale&t is not perfealy well preserved; but that is a very light defect where all the rest is so excellent. The Pervigilium Veneris, ascribed to Catullus, is very well translated. It is replete with natural and impaflioned description, and the verlification is easy, flowing, and harmonious. In general, all Parnell's translations are excellent, Goldsmith has very properly remarked, that in the Battle of the Frogs and Mice, the Greek names have not in English their original effect. The Epistle ta Pepe is one of the finest compliments that was ever paid to any poet. The praise is high, but dilcrimioative and appropriate. That part of it where he dep'ores his being far from wit and learning, as being far from Pope, gave particular offence to his friends at home. The panegyric or Swift is not exceeded by it in discrimination of character, seledion of imagery, and felicity of expreffion.

The Bookworm is a translation from Beza, with modern applications. The translation of the description of Belinda at her toilet in the Rape of the Lock, into morikith verse, hows what a matter Parnell was of the Latin language. The Eclogue on Heulth is simple and beautiful. The Elegy on an Old Beauty has little point or novelty. The Allegory on Man shows a vigour of genius, and compreffion of thought, superior to what appears in most of Parnell's pieces. The Hymn to Contentmeat, Dr. Johnson suspeas to have been borrowed from Cleveland. The Night Piece on Dearb deserves every praise. It is indireAly preferred by Goldsmith to Gray's “ Elegy;" but, in Dr. Jobpson's opinion, Gray has the advantage in dignity, variety, and originality of sentiment. The fabulous characters in the Elyfium are finely described, and the numbers are exquilitely harmonious. The Hermit is the most popular of his performances. The object of the poem deferves high praise for its piety and conduciveness to human happiness. It is confpicuous for beautiful descriptive narration. The meeting with a companion, and the houses in which they are successively entertained, of the vain man, the covetous nian, and the good man, are pieces of very fine painting. It may be doubted whether the means employed for correcting the two first cha. racters were altogether adequate to the purpose intended. It is not probable that a vain man would abstain from a custo.nary gratification of his vanity merely for the loss of an instrument of it, to a man of his wealth so easily supplied. Habitual avarice is not usually removed by unexpe&ted acquisitions. The general do&rine inculcaced by the Hermit's companion is founded in the best philosophy. The story is in Howell's Letters and More's Dialogues; and Goldsmith supposes it to have been originally Arabion. Among his posthumous pieces, the Elj vy on the different styles of Peetry, and the Vision of Piety, have some passages which deserve commendation. Pew of the Scripture Pieces require particular criticism; and some of them have been made public with very little credit to his reputation.

" Parnell appears to me,” says Goldsmith, " to be the last of that great school that had modelled itself upon the ancients, and taught English poetry to resemble what the generality of marikind have allowed to excel. A studious and correct observer of antiquity, he set himself to conlider nature with the light it lent him; and he found that the more aid he borrowed from the ode, the more delightfully he resembled the other. Parnell is ever happy in the selecion of his

images, and fingularly careful in the choice of his subjets. His poetical language is not less correct than his subjects are pleasing. He has considered the language of poetry as the language of life, and conveys the warmest thoughts in the simplest expressions."

“ The general character of Parnell,” says Dr. Johnson, "is, not great extent of comprehension, or fertility of mind ; of the little that appears, still less is his own. His praise must be derived from the easy sweetness of his diction; in his verses there is more happiness than pains; he is sprightly without effort, and always delights though he never ravishes ; every thing is proper, yet every thing seems casual. If there is some appearance of elaboration in the Hermit, the narrative, as it is less airy, is less pleasing. Of his other compositions, it is impossible to say whether they are the produ&ions of nature so excellent as not to want the help of art, or of art sa refined as to resemble nature.

“ This criticism relates only to the pieces published by Pope. Of the large appendages which I found in the last edition, I can only say I know not whence they came, nor have ever inquired whither they are going. They stand upon the faith of the compilers."

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Waat ancient times (those times we fancy wise) From that embrace a fine complexion spread, Hare left on long record of woman's rise, Where mingled whiteness glow'd with softer red, what morals teach it, and what fables hide,

Then in a kiss she breach'd her various arts, what author wrote it, how that author dy'd, Of erilling preccily with wounded hearts; All these I fing. In Greece they fram'd the tale A mind for love, but fill a changing mind; (in Greece 'twas thought a woman might be frail); The lisp affected, and the glance design'd; Ye modern beauties: where the poet drew The sweet confusing blush, the secret wink, His softest pencil, think he dreamt of you ;

The gentle swimming walk, the courteous sink; And, warn's by him, ye wanton pens beware

The stare for strangeness fit, for scorp the frown; How heav'n's concern'd to vindicate the fair. For decent yielding, looks declioing down; 'The case was Hesiod's; he the fable writ ; The practis'd languish, where well feign’d desire Some think with meaning, some with idle wit: Would own its melting in a mutual fire; Perhaps 'tis either, as the ladies please ;

Gay (miles to comfort; April showers to move; I wave the contest, and commence the lays. And all the narure, all the art of love.

lo days of yore (no matter where or when, Gold scepter'd Juno next exalts the fair; 'Twas ere the low creation (warm'd with men) Her touch epdows her with imperious air, That one Prometheus, sprung of heavenly birth, Self-valuing fancy, highly-crested pride, (Our author's song can witness) liv'd on earth : Strong sovereign will, and some desire to chide; He cary'd the turf to mold a manly frame, For which, an eloquence, that aims to vex, And tole from Jove his animating flame.

With native tropes of anger, arms the sex. The fly contrivance o'er Olympus ran,

Minerva, skilful goddess, traind the maid When thus the monarch of the stars began : To twirle the spindle by the twisting thread;

Overs'd in arts! whose daring thoughts aspire, To fix the loom, inftru& the reeds to part, To kindle clay with never-dying fire !

Cross the long weft, and clofe the web with art, Enjoy thy glory palt, that gift was thine; An useful gift; but what profuse expence, The next thy creature meets, be fairly mine : Wha' world of fashions, took its rise from hence! And such a gift, a vengeance so design'd,

Young Hermes next, a close contriving god, As suits the counsel of a god to find;

Her brows encircled with his serpent rod; A pleasing bosom-cheat, a specious ill,

Then plots and fair excuses fill'd her brain, Which felt the curse, yet covets still to feel. The views of breaking amorous vows for gain;

He said, and Vulcan Itrait the Sire commands, The price of favours; the designing arts To temper mortar with ætherial hands;

That aim at riches in contenipe of hearts; In such a shape to mold a rising fair,

And, for a comfort in the marriage life,
As virgin goddesses are proud to wear;

The little pilfering temper of a wife.
To make her eyes with diamond-water shine, Full on the fair his beams Apollo flung,
And form her organs for a voice divine.

And fond persuasion tipp'd her easy tongue; 'Twas thus the Sire ordain'd; the power obey'd;


gave her words, where oily fiattery lays And work'd, and wonder'd it the work he made; | The plealing colours of the art of praise ; The faireft, softest, sweetest frame beneath, And wit, to scandal exquisitely prene, Now made to seem, now more than seem to breathe. Which frets another's lpieen to cure its own.

As Vulcan ends, the cheerful queen of charms Those sacred virgins whom the bards revere, Clasp'd the ney-panting creature in her arins: Twe'd all her voice, and shed a sweetness there,



To make her fence with double charms abound, Wich wasting airs the winds obsequious blow, Or make her lively nonsense please by found. And land the thining vengcance fale below.

To drefs the maid the decent graces brought A gold in coffir in her hand the bore, A robe in all the vies of beauty wri ught,

The present treacherous, but the bearer more; And plac'd treir buxcs o'er a rich brocade, 'Twas fraught with pangs; for Jove ordain'd above, Where pictur'd loves on every cover play'd; That gold shovid aid, and pants attend on love. Then sprcad those implements that Vulcan's are Her

gay delcent the man perceiv'd afar, Had fram'd to merit Cytherea's hcare ;

Wondering he ran to catch the falling star: The wire to curl, the close indented comb

But so surpris', as nore but he can tell, To call the locks, that lightly wan ler, home; Who lov'd lo quickly, and who lov’d so well. And chief, the mirror, where the ravilh'd niaid O'er all his veins the wandering pallion burns, Beholds and loves her own reflected shade.

He calls her nymph, and every nymph by turns. Fair Flora lent her stores; the purpled hours Her form to lovely Venus he prefers, Confin'd her trciles with a wreath of Aowers; Or swears that Venus' must be such as hers. Within the wreath arose a radiant crown; She, proud to rule, yet strangely fram'd to teaze, A veil pellucil hung depending down ;

Neglects his offers while her airs fire plays, Back rollid her azure veil with serpent fold, Shoots (cornful glances from the bended frown, The purfled horder deck'd the floor with gold. In brisk dilorder trips it up and down; Her robe (which closely by the girdle brac'd Then hums a careieis cune to lay the form, Reveal'd the beauties of a slender waist)

And fits, and bluthcs, smiles, and yielus, in form. Flow'd to the feet, to copy Venus' air,

“ Now take what Jove design'd, the softly When Venus' ftatues have a robe to wcar.

The new-sprung creature, finih'd thus fu: harnis, “ This box thy portion, and myself the bride.” Adjusts her habit, pradiles her charms,

Fir'd with the prospect of the double charms, With Lluihes glows, or shines with lively smiles, He snatch'd the bux, and bride, with cager arms. Confirins her will, or recollects her wiles :

Unhappy nian! to whom so bright the thone, Then, conscious of her worth, with easy pace The fatal gift, her tempting leil, unknown! Glides by the glass, and turning views her face. The winds were filent, all the wayes asleep,

A finer flax than what they wrought before, And heaven was trac'd upon the flattering deep; Through time's deep cave, the fiser fates explcre, D:t, whilst he looks unmindful of a storm, Then fix the loom, iheir fingers nimbly weave, And thinks the water wears a tlable form, And thus their toil prophetic songs deceive. What drearilul din around his ears hall rise !

Flow from the rock, my fax! and swiftly flow, What frowns confuse liis picture of the skies! Pursue thy thread; the spindle runs below.

At firft the creature man was fran'd alone, A creature fond and changing, fair and vain, Lord of lumfelf, and all the world his own, The creature woman, rises now to reign.

For him the nymphs in green forf ok the woods, New beauty blooms, a beauty form’d to fly; For him the nymphs in blue forfook the floods; New love begins, a love produc'd to die;

In vain the fatyrs rage, the tritons rave, New parts distress the troubled seenes of life, They bore liim beroes in the secret cave. The fondling mistress, and the ruling wife. No care deltroy'd, 110 lick disorder prey'd,

Men born to labour, all with pains provide; No bending age his Sprightly form decay'd, Women have time to sacrifice to pride :

No wars wire known, no females heard to rage, They want the care of man, their want they know, And, poets tell us, 't was a golden age. Ar.d dress to please with heart-alluring show; When woman came, those ills the box confin'd The how prevailing, for the sway contend, Burst furious out, and poison d all the wind, And make a servant where they meet a friend. From point to point, from prle to pole they few, Thos in a thousand wax-erested forts

Spread as they went, and in the progress grew : A loitering race the painful bee supports;

The nymphs segretting left the portal race, From fun to fun, from bank to bank he flies, And altering nature wore a fickly face : With honey loads his bag, with wax his thighs ; New terms of folly role, new states of care; Fly where he will, at home the race remain, New plagues, to suffer, and to please, the fair! Prune the filk dress, and murmuring eat the The days of whining, and of wild intrigues, gain.

Commercd, or finish'ů, with the breach of leagues; Yet here and there we grant a gentle bride, The mean designs of well-dissembled love; Whose teniper betters by the father's sidc; The fordid matches never join'd above; Unlike the rest that double human care,

Abroad the labour, and at honie the noise, Fond to relieve, ir resolute to share :

(Man's double sufferings for domestic joys) Happy the man whom thus his stars advance! The curse of jealouly; expence and frife; The curse is general, but the blessing chance. Divorce, the public brand of foameful life ;

Thus sung the sisters, while the gods admire The rival's sword; the qualm that takes the fair; Their beautcous crcature, nade for man in ire; Disdain for pasion, paffion in despair The young Pandora she, whom all contend These, and a thousand yet unnam'd, we find; To niake too perfcét not to gain her end :

Ah fear the thouíand yet unnam'd behind! Then bid the winds, that fly to breathe the spring, Thus on Parnasius tuntful Henod sung, Reiurt to Lear her on a gentle wing;

The mountain ccheed, ani the valley Tulle

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