"From hence I parted with reluctance to Pan serious survey of the city wall; to describe that ing a fair stone building, called the White Conduit beautiful building, the mansion-house; I will enu- House, on my right. Here the inhabitants of Lon merate the magnificent squares in which the no- don often assemble to celebrate a feast of hot rolls bility chiefly reside, and the royal palaces appointed and butter; seeing such numbers, each with their for the reception of the English monarch; nor will little tables before them, employed on this occasion, I forget the beauties of Shoe-lane, in which I my must, no doubt, be a very amusing sight to the self have resided since my arrival. You shall find looker-on, but still more so to those who perform me no way inferior to many of my brother travellers in the solemnity. in the arts of description. At present, however, as a specimen of this way of writing, I send you a cras, as it is written, or Pancridge as it is profew hasty remarks, collected in a late journey 1 nounced: but which should be both pronounced made to Kentish-Town, and this in the manner and written Pungrace: this emendation I will venof modern voyagers. ture meo arbitrio: Пav, in the Greek language, "Having heard much of Kentish-Town, I con- signifies all, which, added to the English word, ceived a strong desire to see that celebrated place. grace, maketh all grace, or Pangrace; and, inI could have wished, indeed, to satisfy my curiosity deed, this is a very proper appellation to a place of without going thither, but that was impracticable, so much sanctity as Pangrace is universally esand therefore I resolved to go. Travellers have teemed. However this be, if you except the parish two methods of going to Kentish-Town; they take church and its fine bells, there is little in Pangrace coach, which costs ninepence, or they may go a-foot, worth the attention of the curious observer. which costs nothing: in my opinion, a coach is by "From Pangrace to Kentish-Town is an easy far the most eligible convenience, but I was resolved journey of one mile and a quarter: the road lies to go on foot, having considered with myself, that through a fine champaign country, well watered going in that manner would be the cheapest way. with beautiful drains, and enamelled with flowers "As you set out from Dog-house bar, you enter of all kinds, which might contribute to charm upon a fine level road railed in on both sides, com- every sense, were it not that the odoriferous gales manding on the right a fine prospect of groves, and are often more impregnated with dust than perfields, enamelled with flowers, which would won- fume. derfully charm the sense of smelling, were it not for a dunghill on the left, which mixes its effluvia with their odours. This dunghill is of much greater antiquity than the road; and I must not omit a piece of injustice I was going to commit upon this occasion. My indignation was levelled against the makers of the dunghill, for having brought it so near the road; whereas it should have fallen upon the makers of the road, for having brought that so near the dunghill. "As you enter Kentish-Town, the eye is at once presented with the shops of artificers, such as venders of candles, small-coal, and hair-brooms; there are also several august buildings of red brick, with numberless sign-posts, or rather pillars, in a peculiar order of architecture. I send you a drawing of several, vide A B C. This pretty town probably borrows its name from its vicinity to the county of Kent; and indeed it is not unnatural that it should, as there are only London and the "After proceeding in this manner for some time, adjacent villages that lie between them. Be this a building, resembling somewhat a triumphal arch, as it will, perceiving night approach, I made a salutes the traveller's view. This structure, how- hasty repast on roasted mutton, and a certain dried ever, is peculiar to this country, and vulgarly called fruit called potatoes, resolving to protract my rea turnpike-gate: I could perceive a long inscription marks upon my return: and this I would very willin large characters on the front, probably upon the ingly have done, but was prevented by a circumoccasion of some triumph, but, being in haste, I left stance which in truth I had for some time foreseen, it to be made out by some subsequent adventurer for night coming on, it was impossible to take a who may happen to travel this way; so, continuing proper survey of the country, as I was obliged to my course to the west, I soon arrived at an un- return home in the dark." Adieu. walled town, called Islington. LETTER CXXIII. Islington is a pretty neat town, mostly built of brick, with a church and bells; it has a small lake, or rather pond, in the midst, though at present very much neglected. I am told it is dry in summer: if this be the case, it can be no very proper receptacle for fish, of which the inhabitants them- AFTER a variety of disappointments, my wishes selves seem sensible, by bringing all that is eaten are at length fully satisfied. My son, so long exthere from London. pected, is arrived; at once by his presence banish"After having surveyed the curiosities of this ing my anxiety, and opening a new scene of unfair and beautiful town, I proceeded forward, leav-expected pleasure. His improvements in mind 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 surThe 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 seems formed of similar materials with mine; he instantly gave his consent, and the next day was appointed for the solemnization of their nuptials. Madam," interrupts he, "we are never too old to be instructed."-" Old, sir!" interrupts the other, "who is old, sir? when I die of age, I know of some that will quake for fear: if the leg does not 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. ion, 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 leshe, "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 ceive 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 the 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. university they are a great deal stricter in their examination 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 Februmain 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. 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 interThere is one presumption, however, of the early ment. As he died without male issue, his estate maturity of his understanding. He was admitted devolved to his only nephew, Sir John Parnell, a member of the college of Dublin at the age of thir-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 fame is increased by time, it is then too late to investigate the peculiarities of his disposition; the dews of the morning are past, and we vainly try to continue the chase by the meridian splendour. There is scarcely any man but might be made the subject of a very interesting and amusing history, if the writer, besides a thorough acquaintance with the character he draws, were able to make those nice distinctions which separate it from all 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 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. proved the treaty of Utrecht, and disliked the Duke "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, 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 companions, as well at his vexations as at his triumphs. 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 lovers of you, and deplorers of your absence, and that we form no wish more ardently than that which brings you over to us, and places you in How much his company was desired, appears from the extensiveness of his connexions, and the number of his friends. Even before he made any 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 I shall |