And, when I cannot hear, you shall have choice of the best people we can afford, to hear you, and nurses enough; and your apartment is on the funny fide.

The next paragraph ftrikes me dumb. You fay I am to blame, if I refuse the opportunity of going with my Lady Bolingbroke to Aix la Chapelle. I must tell you, that a foreign language is mortal to a deaf man. I must have good ears to catch up the words of fo nimble a tongued race as the French, having been a dozen years without converfing among them. Mr. Gay is a scandal to all lufty young fellows with healthy countenance; and, I think, he is not intemperate in a phyfical fenfe. I am told he has an afthma, which is a disease I commiferate more than deafnefs, because it will not leave a man quiet either fleeping or waking. I hope he does not intend to print his Opera * before it is acted; for I defy all your fubfcriptions to amount to 800 l. And yet, I believe, he loft as much more for want of human prudence.

I told you fome time ago, that I was dwindled to a writer of libels on the Lady of the family where I lived, and upon myfelf; but they never went further: And

*The Second Part of the Beggar's Opera.

my Lady Achefon made me give her up all the foul copies, and never gave the fair ones out of her hands, or fuffered them to be copied. They were sometimes fhewn to intimate friends, to occafion mirth, and that was all. So that I am vexed at your thinking I had any hand in what could come to your eyes. I have fome confused notion of feeing a paper called Sir Ralph the Patriot, but am fure it was bad or indifferent; and, as to the Lady at Quadrille, I never heard of it. Perhaps it may be the fame with a paper of verses called the Journal of a Dublin Lady, which I writ at Sir Arthur Achefon's; and, leaving out what concerned the family, I fent it to be printed in a paper which Dr. Sheridan had engaged in, called the Intelligencer, of which he made but forry work, and then dropt it. But the verses were printed by themselves, and most horridly mangled in the prefs, and were very mediocre in themselves; but did well enough in the manner I mentioned, of a family-jeft. I do fincerely affure you, that my frequent old diforder, and the fcene where I am, and the humour I am in, and fome other reafon which time hath fhewn, and will fhew more if I live; have lowered my

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fmall talents with a vengeance, and cooled my difpofition to put them in ufe. I want only to be rich, for I am hard to be pleased; and, for want of riches, people grow every day lefs folicitous to please me. Therefore I keep humble company, who are happy to come where they can get a bottle of wine without paying for it. I give my vicar a fupper, and his wife a fhilling, to play with me an hour at back-gammon once a fortnight. To all people of quality, and especially of titles, I am not within; or, at least, am deaf a week or two after I am well. But, on Sunday-evenings, it cofts me fix bottles of wine to people whom I cannot keep out. Pray, come over in April, if it be only to convince you that I tell no lies, and the journey will be certainly for your health. Mrs. Brent, my house-keeper, famous in print for digging out the great bottle *, fays fhe will be your nurfe; and the best physicians we have fhall attend you without fees: Although, I believe, you will have no occafion but to converfe with one or two of them to make them proud.

Your letter came but laft poft, and you fee my punctuality. I am unlucky at

* See Vol. VI. p. 138.

évery thing I send to England. Two bottles of ufquebaugh were broken. Well, my humble fervice to my Lord Bolingbroke, Lord Bathurst, Lord Mafhain, and his Lady my dear friend, and Mr. Pultney, and the Doctor, and Mr. Lewis, and our fickly. friend Gay, and my Lady Bolingbroke; and very much to Patty*, who I hope will learn to love the world lefs, before the world leaves off to love her. I am much concerned to hear of my Lord Peterborow being ill. I am exceedingly his fervant, and pray God recover his health. As for your courtier Mrs. Howard, and her Miftrefs, I have nothing to fay, but that they have neither memory nor manners; elfe fhould have fome mark of the former from the latter, which I was promised above two years ago: But, fince I made them a prefent, it would be mean to remind them. I am told poor Mrs. Pope is ill: Pray God preferve her to you, or raife you up as ufeful a friend.

This letter is an answer to Mr. Ford, whose hand I miftook for yours, having not heard from him this twelve-month. Therefore you are not to ftare; and it muft not be loft, for it talks to you only. *Patty Blount. K

VOL. XVI.

Again,

Again, forgive my blunders: For, reading the letter by candle-light, and not dreaming of a letter from Mr. Ford, I thought it must be yours, because it talks of our friends.

The letter talks of Gay, and Mr. Whalley, and Lord Bolingbroke, which made me conclude it must be yours: So all the anfwering part muft go for nothing.

SIR,

LETTER XLVI.

To a certain ESQUIRE.

January 3d, 1729-30.

SEEING your frank on the outside, and your address in the same hand, it was obvious who was the writer. And, before I opened it, a worthy friend being with me, I told him the contents of the difference between us. That, your tythes being generally worth five or fix pounds per annum, and, by the terror of Squireship, frighting my agent to take what you graciously thought fit to give, you wronged me of half my duty every year. That, having held from your father an island worth three pence a year, which I planted and paid two fhillings annually for; and

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