which is a name we give to Europe, to England, to Ireland, to London, to Dublin, to the Court, to the Castle, and fo diminishing, till it comes to our own affairs, and our own perfons. When you write (either to him or to me, for we accept it all as one) rebuke him for it, as a Divine if you like it, or as a Badineur, if you

think that more effectual.

What I write will show you that my head is yet weak. I had written to you by that gentleman from the Bath, but I did not know him, and every body that comes from Ireland pre

tends to be a friend of the Dean's. I am always glad to see any that are truly so, and therefore do not mistake any thing I faid, fo as to discourage your fending any fuch to me. Adieu.

LETTER LXXIV.

From Dr. SWIFT.

YOUR letter

May 12, 1735.

OUR letter was fent me yesterday by Mr.
Stopford, who landed the fame day, but I

have not yet seen him. As to
seen him. As to my filence, God

シ

knows it is my great misfortune. My little domestic affairs are in great confusion by the vil

lainy of agents, and the miseries of this Kingdom, where there is no money to be had: nor am I unconcerned to fee all things tending towards abfolute power, in both nations a (it ishere in perfection already) although I shall not live to fee it established. This condition of things, both public and perfonal to myself, hath given me fuch a kind of defpondency, that I am almost unqualified for any company, diverfion, or amufement. The death of Mr. Gay and the Doctor, hath been terrible wounds near my heart. Their living would have been a great comfort to me, although I fhould never have seen them; like a fum of money in a bank, from which I should receive at least annual intereft, as I do from you, and have done from my Lord Bolingbroke. To fhew in how much ignorance I live, it is hardly a fortnight fince I heard of the death of my Lady Masham, my conftant friend in all changes of times. God forbid that I should expect you to make a voyage that would in the least affect your health: but in the mean time how unhappy am I, that my best friend should have perhaps the only kind of disorder for which a feavoyage is not in fome degree a remedy? The

a The Dean was fre- us, with a giddinefs in his quently troubled, he tells head.

old

old Duke of Ormond faid, he would not change his dead fon (Offory) for the best living fon in Europe. Neither would I change you my absent friend for the best present friend round the Globe.

I have lately read a book imputed to Lord B. called a Differtation upon Parties. I think it very masterly written.

you for

Pray God reward your kind prayers: I believe your prayers will do me more good than thofe of all the Prelates in both kingdoms, or any Prelates in Europe except the Bishop of Marseilles. And God preferve you for contributing more to mend the world, than the whole pack of (modern) Parsons in a lump. I am ever entirely yours.

ΤΗ

LETTER LXXV.

From Dr. SWIFT.

Sept. 3, 1735.

HIS letter will be delivered to you by Faulkner the printer, who goes over on his private affairs. This is an answer to yours

Who continued there dreadful peftilence defolated

with his flock all the time a that city.

of

of two months ago, which complains of that profligate fellow Curl. I heartily wish you were what they call difaffected, as I am. I may fay as David did, I have finned greatly, but what have these sheep done? You have given no offence to the Ministry, nor to the Lords, nor Commons, nor Queen, nor the next in Power. For you are a man of virtue, and therefore muft abhor vice and all corruption, although your difcretion holds the reins. "You need not "fear any confequence in the commerce that "hath fo long paffed between us; although I "never destroy'd one of your letters. But Executors are men of honour and vir

<< my

cc tue,

you

who have strict orders in my will to "burn every letter left behind me." Neither did our letters contain any Turns of Wit, or Fancy, or Politics, or Satire, but mere innocent Friendship: yet I am loth that any letters, from and a very few other friends, fhould dye before me; I believe we neither of us ever leaned our head upon our left hand to study what we should write next; yet we have held a constant intercourfe from your youth and my middle age, and from your middle age it muft be continued till my death, which my bad state of health makes me expect every month. I have the ambition, and it is very earnest as well as in hafte, to have one Epiftle inscribed to

me

me while I am alive, and you just in the time when wit and wifdom are in the height. I must once more repeat Cicero's defire to a friend; Orna me. A month ago were fent me over by a friend of mine, the works of John Hughes, Efq. They are in verfe and profe. I never heard of the man in my life, yet, I find your name as a subscriber too. He is too grave a Poet for me, and, I think, among the mediocribus in profe as well as verfe. I have the honour to know Dr. Rundle; he is indeed worth all the reft you ever fent us, but-that is faying nothing, for he answers your character; I have dined thrice in his company. He brought over a worthy clergyman of this kingdom as his chaplain, which was a very wife and popular action. His only fault, is, that he drinks no wine, and I drink nothing else.

This kingdom is now abfolutely starving, by the means of every oppreflion that can be in

flicted on mankind--Shall I not vifit for thefe things? faith the Lord. You advise me right, not to trouble myself about the world: But, oppreflion tortures me, and I cannot live without meat and drink, nor get either without money; and money is not to be had, except they will make me a Bishop, or a Judge, or a Colonel, or a Commiffioner of the Revenues. Adieu.