without a Phantome of you, fitting or walking before me. I travelled with you to Chefter, I felt the extream heat of the weather, the inns, the roads, the confinement and closeness of the uneafy coach, and wish'd a hundred times I had either a Deanery or a Horse in my gift. In real truth, I have felt my foul peevish ever fince with all about me, from a warm uneafy defire after you. I am gone out of myself to no purpose, and cannot catch you. Inbiat in ped.s was not more properly apply'd to a poor dog after a hare, than to me with regard to your departure. I wish I could think no more of it, but lye down and fleep till we meet again, and let that day (how far foever off it be) be the morrow. Since I cannot, may it be my amends that every thing you wish may attend you where you are, and that you may find every friend you have there, in the state you wish him, or her; so that your visits to us may have no other effect, than the progress of a rich man to a remote eftate, which he finds greater than he expected; which knowledge only ferves to make him live happier where he is, with no disagreeable profpect if ever he should chuse to remove. May this be your state till it become what I wish. But indeed I cannot express the warmth, with which I wish you all things, and myself you. Indeed you are in

F.4

graved

graved elsewhere than on the Cups you sent me, (with so kind an inscription) and I might throw them into the Thames without injury to the giver. I am not pleas'd with them, but take them very kindly too: And had I suspected any fuch usage from you, I should have enjoyed your company less than I really did, for at this rate I may say

1

Nec tecum poffum vivere, nec fine te.

I will bring you over just such another present, when I go to the Deanery of St. Patrick's; which I promise you to do, if ever I am enabled to return your kindness. Donarem Pateras, &c. Till then I'll drink (or Gay shall drink) daily healths to you, and I'll add to your infcription the old Roman Vow for years to come, VOTIS X. VOTIS XX. My Mother's age gives me authority to hope it for yours. Adieu.

LETTER XVII.

Sept. 3, 1726.

Y

Ours to Mr. Gay gave me greater fatisfaction than that to me (tho' that gave me a great deal) for to hear you were fafe at your journey's end, exceeds the account of your fatigues while in the way to it: otherwise believe me, every tittle of each is important to me, which fets any one thing before my eyes that happens to you. I writ you a long letter, which I guess reach'd you the day after your arrival. Since then I had a conference with Sir who ex

----

press'd his defire of having seen you again before you left us. He faid he observed a willingness in you to live among us; which I did not deny; but at the same time told him, you had no such design in your coming this time, which was merely to see a few of those you loved: but that indeed all those wished it, and particularly Lord Peterborow and myself, who wished you lov'd Ireland less, had you any reason to love England more. I said nothing but what I think wou'd induce any man to be as fond of you as I, plain Truth, did they know either it, or you. I can't help thinking (when I confider the whole short List of our friends) that none of them except you and I are qualify'd for the Mountains of Wales. The Dr. goes to Cards, Gay to Court; one loses money, one loses his time: Another of our friends labours to be unambitious, but he labours in an unwilling foil. One Lady you like has too much of France to be fit for Wales: Another is too much a fubject to Princes and Potentates, to relish that wild Taste of liberty and poverty.

Mr.

Mr. Congreve is too fick to bear a thin air; and she that leads him too rich to enjoy any thing. Lord Peterborow can go to any climate, but never stay in any. Lord Bathurst is too great an husbandman to like barren hills, except they are his own to improve. Mr. Bethel indeed is too good and too honest to live in the world, but yet 'tis fit, for its example, he should. We are left to ourselves in my opinion, and may live where we please, in Wales, Dublin, or Bermudas: And for me, I affure you I love the world fo well, and it loves me so well, that I care not in what part of it I pass the rest of my days. I fee no funshine but in the face of a friend.

I had a glympse of a letter of yours lately, by which I find you are (like the vulgar) apter to think well of people out of power, than of people in power; perhaps 'tis a mistake, but however there's fomething in it generous. Mr. ** takes it extreme kindly, I can perceive, and he has a great mind to thank you for that good opinion, for which I believe he is only to thank his ill fortune: for if I am not in an error, he would rather be in power than out.

To shew you how fit I am to live in the mountains, I will with great truth apply to myself an old sentence: "Those that are in, may abide in; and those that are out, may " abide

66

" abide out: yet to me, those that are in shall

" be as those that are out, and those that are out shall be as those that are in."

८८

I am indifferent as to all those matters, but I miss you as much as I did the first day, when (with a short figh) I parted. Wherever you are, (or on the mountains of Wales, or on the coast of Dublin,

Tu mibi, feu wagni fuperas jam faxa Timavi, Sive oram Illyrici legis æquoris---)

I am, and ever shall be Yours, &c.

A

LETTER XVIII.

Mr. GAY to Dr. SWIFT.

Nov. 17, 1726.

Bout ten days ago a Book was publish'd here of the Travels of one Gulliver, which hath been the conversation of the whole town ever fince: The whole impreffion fold in a week; and nothing is more diverting than to hear the different opinions people give of it, though all agree in liking it extremely. "Tis generally faid that you are the Author; but I am told, the Bookseller declares, he knows not from what hand it came. ne. From the highest

to