it ſhall ſerve any of theſe purpoſes, I ſhall be ſatisfied, though I gain no reputation by it among thoſe who read a new poem with no other view, than to paſs a judgment on the abilities of the author.’ When the antagoniſts of Pope were threatened with the publication of the Dunciad, Mr. Mitchel had ſome ſuſpicion that he himſelf was to be ſtigmatized in it: conſcious that he had never offended Mr. Pope, he took an opportunity to write to him upon that ſubject. He informed him, that he had been an admirer of his writings; that he declined all connexion with thoſe men, who combined to reduce his reputation, and that when no offence was given, no reſentment ſhould be diſcovered. Mr. Pope, upon receiving this letter from Mitchel, proteſting his innocence as to any calumny publiſhed againſt him, was ſo equitable as to ſtrike him out of his Dunciad, in which, by miſrepreſentation he had aſſigned him a place.
Mr. Mitchel lived in good correſpondence with many of the moſt eminent wits of the time, and was particularly honoured with the friendſhip of Aaron Hill, eſq; a gentleman of ſo amiable a diſpoſition, that whoever cultivated an intimacy with him, was ſure to be a gainer. Once, when Mr. Mitchel was in diſtreſs, Mr. Hill, who could not perhaps conveniently relieve him by pecuniary aſſiſtance, gave him a higher inſtance of friendſhip, than could be ſhewn by money. He wrote a beautiful dramatic piece in two acts, called The Fatal Extravagant, in which he expoſed the hideous vice of gaming. This little dramatic work is planned with ſuch exquiſite art, wrought up with ſo much tenderneſs, and the ſcenes are ſo natural, intereſting and moving, that I know not if Mr. Hill has any where touched the paſſions with ſo great a maſtery. This play met the
