to pay for them. I believe there are not in this whole city three gentlemen out of employment who are able to give entertainments once a month. Those who are in employments of church or state are three parts in four from England, and amount to little more than a dozen: those indeed may once or twice invite their friends or any person of distinction that makes a voyage hither. All my acquaintance tell me they know not above three families where they can occasionally dine in a whole year. Dr. Delany is the only gentleman I know who keeps one certain day in the week to entertain seven or eight friends at dinner and to pass the evening, where there is nothing of excess, either in eating or drinking. Our old friend Southern [the poet], who has just left us, was invited to dinner once or twice by a judge, a bishop, or a commissioner of the revenues, but most frequented a few particular friends, and chiefly the doctor [Delany], who is easy in his fortune and very hospitable. The conveniences of taking the air, winter or summer, do far exceed those in London. For the two large strands just at two edges of the town are as firm and dry in winter as in summer. There are at least six or eight gentlemen of sense, learning, good-humour, and taste, able and desirous to please you, and orderly females, some of the better sort, to take care of you. These were the motives that I have frequently made use of to entice you hither. And there would be no failure among the best people here of any honours that could be done you. As to myself, I declare my health is so uncertain that I dare not venture among you at present. I hate the thoughts of London, where I am not rich enough to live otherwise than by shifting, which is now too late. Neither can I have conveniences in the country for three horses and two servants, and many others which I have here at hand. I am one of the governors of all the hackney coaches, carts, and carriages, round this town, who dare not insult me like your rascally waggoners or coachmen, but give me the way; nor is there one lord or squire for a hundred of yours to turn me out of the road or run over me with their coaches and six. Thus I make some advantage of the public poverty, and give you the reasons for what I once wrote, why I choose to be a freeman among slaves rather than a slave among freemen. Then I walk the streets in peace without being justled, nor even without a thousand blessings from my friends the vulgar. I am lord-mayor of 120 houses, I am absolute lord of the greatest cathedral in the kingdom, am at peace with the neighbouring princes, the lord-mayor of the city and the archbishop of Dublin, only the latter, like the king of France, sometimes attempts encroachments on my dominions, as old Lewis did upon Lorraine. In the midst of this raillery I can tell you with seriousness that these advantages contribute to my ease, and therefore I value them. And in one part of your letter relating to lord Bolingbroke and yourself you agree with me entirely about the indifference, the love of quiet, the care of health, &c., that grow upon men in years. And if you discover those inclinations in my lord and yourself, what can you expect from me, whose health is so precarious? and yet at your or his time of life I could have leaped over the moon. JONATHAN SWIFT. FROM MISS KELLY. Bristol, July 8, 1733. DEAR SIR,-I cannot express how much pleasure your letter gave me; to say that it surpassed the anxiety your silence gave me is all the description I am able to make. Indeed I had a thousand fears about you; your health was my first care, and yet I thought that the gods must take care of Cato; but I too fearfully apprehended that the whole club had quite forgotten the most unworthy member that ever entered into their society. For though you wrote to others, your hands were useless to me; and of all our little set none remained unblessed but myself; but as your letter has made me full amends for everything beside, I must be lavish in my thanks. I am apt to believe that I really died on the road, as it was reported, for I am certainly not the same creature I once was, for I have grown fonder of reading than of any other amusement, and except when health calls me on horseback I find my only joys at home. But my life indeed has received great addition in its pleasures by Mrs. Rooke's being so good to come down to me; she has all the qualities that can make an agreeable companion and friend; we live together without form, but have all the complacence for each other that true friendship inspires. You are sensible that two people cannot always like the same thing: this we make easy by following our inclinations, for if she likes to walk she walks, and I do whatever I like better. Would to God you were with us to complete our happiness. I had a letter from Mrs. Cleland to inquire about you; she says she hears you are coming to England; surely, if you were, you would tell me so, for few things in life could give me more true delight than the sight of you. You are extremely good to enter into my affairs; all marks you give me of your friendship increase my esteem for you, and make me bear the common rubs of life with patience. I have really been often tempted to let you into all my secrets, but the thought that you only could receive uneasiness from them, and that even your advice could not remove the least painful of them, hindered me from it, for to those I best love I still remain upon these heads reserved. Indeed the cause of my complaints is of such a nature that it cannot well be told. The unhappy life of a near relation must give one a pain in the very repeating it that cannot be described. For surely to be the daughter of a colonel Chartres must, to a rational being, give the greatest anxiety; for who would have a father at seventy publicly tried for an attempt of a rape? Such a Dulcinea del Toboso is shocking, I think. For if a man must do wrong he should aim a little higher than the enjoyment of a kitchen-maid that he finds obstinately virtuous. In short, dear sir, I have been fool enough to let such things make an impression on me, which, spite of a good constitution, much spirits, and using a great deal of exercise, has brought me to what I Were I without a mother (I mean had I lost her in my infancy and not known her goodness), I could still better have borne the steps that were taken; but while I saw how lavish he was upon his dirty wenches, I had frequent accounts that my mother was half-starved abroad. She brought him 16,000l. fortune, and having borne severe usage for near twenty years, had resolution enough to part with him, and chose to take 2501. per annum separate maintenance rather than bear any longer; and as she could not live here upon such an income, she has banished herself, and lives retired in a country town in France.-His late letters to me have been kind, and hitherto he has supplied me well, but in his last he tells me he shall not see me till September. am. What you say is perfectly right, and I propose returning to the club as soon as my health will permit me, but how long this may prove I know not, for I must still pursue this cruel goda that flies me. a The god of health, poetically expressed. I shall go from hence I believe in a week, for Lane only pours down medicines for the sake of the apothecary, and though he reaps the benefit of them, I receive none; and as he has not allowed me to drink the waters these three weeks I can have no business here, so shall follow Holling's advice, and remove to Kensington or Hampstead with the utmost expedition; therefore I must beg the favour of you to enclose your letters for me to William Cleland, esq., commissioner of taxes, in St. Stephen's-court, Westminster. I have disobeyed orders in writing so long a letter, but I will not do this again, so now be so good to excuse the tediousness of, sir, your most obliged and most faithful humble servant, F. A. KELLY. Write to me as often as you can, and make my compliments to all friends. Mrs. Pendarves is gone down with lady Weymouth, whose fortune was 50007. and has for jointure 25007. a-year, and 5007. a-year pin-money. FROM LADY BETTY GERMAIN. Knowle, July 9, 1733. "Now," says parson Swift, "what the devil makes this woman write to me with this filthy white ink? I cannot read a word of it without more trouble than her silly scribble is worth."-" Why," say again, "ay, it is the women are always accused of having bad writing implements, but, to my comfort be it spoken, this is his grace my lord-lieutenant's ink." My bureau at London is so well furnished, and his grace and his secretary make so much use of it, that they are often obliged to give me halfa-crown that I may not run out my estate in paper. It is very happy when a go-between pleases both sides, and I am very well pleased with my office; for his grace is delighted that it was in his power to oblige you. So trève de compliment. Since I have declared my passion against a bishop and a parson, it is but fair I should tell you the story, whether you care to hear it or not; but if you do not I give you leave not to mind it, for now it is over I am calm again. As to the bishop [Dr. Clavering], I know neither his principles nor his parts, but his diocese is Peterborough, and having a small park in Northamptonshire, which I had a mind to increase by a small dab of addition, to make my house stand in the middle of it. Three shillings and sixpence worth of land per annum, at the largest computation, belongs to the church, for which my old parson (who flatters me black and blue when he comes for a Sunday dinner, and says he loves me better than anybody in the world) has made me give him up, in lieu of that land, a house and ground that lets for 40s. a-year, and is hardly content with that, but reckons it a vast favour. And the bishop has put me to ten times more charge than it is worth, by sending commissioners to view it, and making me give petitions and dancing me through his court, besides a great dinner to his nasty people. Now am I not in the right to be angry? But perhaps you will say if I will have my fancies I must pay for them, so I will say no more about it. I hear poor Mrs. Kelly is not near so well as she says, and a gentleman that came from Bristol says she looks dreadfully, and fears it is almost over with her and that no mortal could know her: so ends youth and beauty! That is such a moral reflection that lest it should make you melancholy I will tell you something to please you. Your old friend Mrs. Floyd is perfectly recovered. I think I have not seen her so well this great while; but winter is always her bane, so I shall live in dread of that. In your next I desire to know what I am in your debt for my sister's monument. Adieu, my dear, good, old, and well-beloved friend. FROM MRS. PENDARVES. Gloucester, July 21, 1733. SIR,-May I say, without offending you, that I was overjoyed at the honour you did me in answering my letter? and do not call me formal when I assure you that I think myself made happy by such a distinction. It was stupidity in me not to let you know where to address to me, but I do not repent of it; I have by that means tried your zeal; but I am afraid your good-breeding, more than your inclination, procured me that favour. I am resolved to be even with you for what you say about my writing, and will write henceforward to you as carelessly as I can; if it is not legible thank yourself. I do not wonder at the envy of the ladies when you are pleased to speak of me with some regard; I give them leave to exercise their malice on an occasion that does me so much honour. I protest I am not afraid of you, and would appear quite natural to you, in hopes of your rewarding my openness and sincerity by eor recting what you disapprove of. And since I have not now an opportunity of receiving your favours of pinching and beating, make me amends by chiding me for every word that is false spelt and for my bad English; you see what you are like to suffer. If this promises you too much trouble do not give me so much encouragement in your next letter, for upon something in your last I have almost persuaded myself that by your assistance and my own earnest desire I may in time become worthy of your care. Vanity stands at my elbow all this while and animates me by a thousand agreeable promises; without her encouragement I should never have presumed to correspond with the dean of St. Patrick's. say she is a mischievous companion; I swear she is a pleasant one: you must not be angry with me for keeping her company, for I had very little acquaintance with her till I had received some marks of your favour. Some I received your letter but a little while before I left London; I attended lord and lady Weymout down to Longleat, and left them with a pros pect of as much happiness as matrimony can give; they are pleased with one another at present, and I hope that will continue. My lord and lady Carteret are both satisfied with the disposal of their daughter in so advantageous a station. Common report wrongs my lord Weymouth, for which reason, as I am his friend, I must tell you his good qualities: he has honour and good-nature, and does not want for sense; he loves the country, and inclines a little too much to his stable and dog-kennel, but he keeps a very hospitable, good house, and is always ready to relieve those in distress; his lady Dr. Delany can give you a character of, and is what I believe you will approve of. I came from Longleat last Saturday, and am now at Gloucester with my mother and sister. My lord Bathurst was here about a fortnight ago; I was sorry, to miss of him; I have a double reason for liking his company. He has made me promise to pay him a visit at Oakley Wood, which I certainly will do; I shall with great resignation submit to any punishment you convey through his hands. I wish you could make your words good, and that I was a sorceress; I should then set all my charms to work to bring you to England, and should expect a general thanksgiving for employing my spells to so good a purpose. The syren has lately been at Oxford; we parted very unwillingly; she is extremely obliged to you for remembering her so favourably. I am glad Mr. Donnellan pleases you; I know he has a high Be pleased to direct for me at Mrs. Granville's, me. TO DR. JOHN STERNE, BISHOP OF CLOGHER. happy for me that I know the persons of very few bishops; and it is my constant rule never to look into a coach; by which I avoid the terror that such a sight would strike me with. abominable bills for enslaving and beggaring the clergy (which took their birth from hell) were upon the anvil, if I had found your lordship's name among the bishops who would have turned them into a law, I might have been apt to discover such marks of indignation, horror, and despair, both in words and deportment, as would have ill become me to a person of your station; for I call God to witness that I did then, and do now, and shall for ever firmly believe, that every bishop who gave his vote for either of these bills did it with no other view (bating further promotion) than a premeditated design, from the spirit of ambition and love of arbitrary power, to make the whole body of the clergy their slaves and vassals until the day of judgment, under the load of poverty and contempt. I have no room for more charitable thoughts, except for those who will answer now, as they must at that dreadful day, that July, 1733. what they did was out of perfect ignorance, want of MY LORD, I have been often told by some of our consideration, hope of future promotion (an argu common acquaintance that you have sometimes exment not to be conquered), or the persuasion of cunpressed your wonder that I never waited on you for ninger brethren than themselves, when I saw a some years past, as I used to do for many years bebishop whom I had known so many years fall into fore; and that you could not guess the reason, bethe same snare, which word I use in partiality to cause, to your knowledge, you never once disobliged Upon this open avowed attempt in your lordship. As nothing is more common than dropping almost the whole bench to destroy the church, I reacquaintance by the usual occurrences of life, withsolved to have no more commerce with persons of out any fault on either side, I never intended to say such prodigious grandeur, who, I feared, in a little or think anything of the matter until a late proceed-time, would expect me to kiss their slipper. It is ing of yours, which no way relates to me, put me upon a desire of finding matter to justify you to your friends here, as well as to myself; because I always wished you well, and because I have been more than once instrumental to your service. When I first came acquainted with you we were both private clergymen in a neighbourhood; you were afterwards chancellor of St. Patrick's; then was chosen dean, in which election I was the most busy of all your solicitors. When the compromise was made between the government and you to make you easy, and Dr. Synge chancellor, you absolutely and frequently promised to give me the curacy of St. Nicholas Without; but you thought fit, by concert with the archbishop, to hold it yourself, and apply the revenue to build another church; against which it became me to say nothing, being a party concerned and injured; although it was generally thought by others, as well as myself, that it was an ill and dangerous precedent to build a church with the revenue of the minister. I desire no thanks for being instrumental in your next promotion, because, as things then stood, I consulted my own advantage. However, upon the queen's death, when I had done for ever with courts, I returned to reside at my post, yet with some kind of hopes of getting some credit with you, very unwisely, because, upon the affair of St. Nicholas, I had told you frankly that I would always respect you, but never hope for the least friendship from you. But trying to forget all former treatment I came like others to your house; and since you were a bishop have once or twice recommended persons to you who were no relations or friends of mine, but merely for their general good character, which availed so little that those very persons had the greatest share of your neglect. I then gave over all thoughts of being instrumental to place merit and virtue under your protection by my recommendations; and as I was ever averse from mingling with multitudes and strangers, I forbore by degrees to be a partaker of your hospitality rather than purchase a share of it at so dear a rate. This is the history of my conduct with regard to your lordship; and it is now a great comfort to me that I acted in this manner, for otherwise, when those two In the beginning of my letter I told your lordship of a desire to know the particulars of a late proceeding, which is in the mouths of many among your aclowing account: That you have the great tithes of quaintance; from some of whom I received the foltwo livings in your diocese, which were left to some fanatic knight whose name I forget. It seems you felt the beginning of a good motion in yourself, which was to give up those tithes to the two incumbents (the fanatic's lease being near out), either for a very small reserved rent, or entirely, provided you could do so without lessening the revenue of the see. And the condition was that your tenants among them should raise the rents one hundred and fifty pounds, which was what the fanatic paid you for both the said parishes. It is affirmed that sir Ralph Gore, one of your tenants, much approving so generous a proposal, engaged to prevail on the tenants to agree, and offered a large advancement of his own part. The matter was thus fixed when suddenly you changed your mind, and renewed the lease to the same fanatic for three hundred pounds fine. The reasons of this singular action are said to be two: the first is, that you declared you wanted power to resist the temptation of such a fine; the other, that you were dissuaded from it by some of your brethren as an example very dangerous, and of ill consequence if it should be followed by others. This last I do not in the least wonder at, because such advice is of the same leaven with the two enslaving and beggaring bills. I profess to your lordship that I have no other motive in desiring to be satisfied upon this point than a resolution to justify you to the world as far as the truth will give me power. I am, &c. TO MRS. CÆSAR. MADAM,-Among a few little vexations, such as beggary, slavery, corruption, ignorance, want of friends, faction, oppression, and some other trifles of the like my absence. My lord Bolingbroke and Mr. Pope press me with many kind invitations; but the former is too much a philosopher; he dines at six in the evening, after studying all the morning until the afternoon; and when he hath dined to his studies again. Mr. Pope can neither eat nor drink, loves to be alone, and hath always some poetical scheme in his head. Thus the two best companions and friends I ever had have utterly disqualified themselves for my conversation and my way of living. Mr. Pope, who had often promised to pass a summer season with me here if he outlived his mother, soon after death waived the fairest opportunity of performing his promise two months ago, of coming over nature, that we philosophers ought to despise, two or three ladies of long acquaintance, and at a great distance, are still so kind as to remember me; and I was always proud and pleased to a great degree that you happened to be one, since constancy is, I think, at least as seldom found in friendship as in love. Mrs. Barber, when I see her, is always telling me wonders of the continual favours you have conferred on her, and that, without your interposition, the success of her errand would have been hardly worth the journey; and I must bear the load of this obligation without the least possibility of ever returning it, otherwise than my best wishes for the prosperity and health of you and your family; for in spite of all your good words I am the most insig-with ease, and in company of dean Cotterel and his nificant man of this most insignificant country. I have been tied by the leg (without being married) for ten months past, by an unlucky strain, which prevented the honour and happiness I proposed to myself of waiting on you often during this last summer; and another year at my period of life is like an inch in a man's nose; yet I flatter myself that next spring I may take one voyage more, when you will see me altered in every disposition of body and mind, except in my respects for you and all that belong to you. There is one part of Mr. Pope's compliment which I cannot make you, for I could not with the strictest search find one letter too many in any of your words, although I found a thousand words too few in your letter; therefore I accepted and understood it only as a billet just written, while Mrs. Barber stood by in her hood and scarf, just ready to take her leave and begin her journey, and what is worse, I suspect that she was forced to solicit you long because she wanted a certificate under your hand to convince me that she was not an impostor. I will not say one word in Mrs. Barber's behalf, for she will always continue to deserve your protection, and therefore she may be sure you will always continue to give it her. I hope Mr. Cæsar is in good health, and desire he will accept the offer of my most humble service, with my hearty wishes for your whole family. I am, with true respect, madam, your most obedient and most humble servant, JONATHAN SWIFT. TO MRS. CÆSAR. Dublin, July 30, 1733. MADAM, I Could not let Mrs. Barber leave us for good and all without honouring her with the carriage of a letter from your old humble and constant lover; she hath been afflicted with so many repetitions of the gout that her limbs are much weakened and her spirits sunk; neither can I well blame her, considering her grand affair of subscriptions must needs have slackened in her absence. Neither could she be in much disposition to increase her volumes, for health and good-humour are two ingredients absolutely necessary in the poetical trade; but I hope your countenance and protection will recover her spirits, and her hopes, and her genius. I imagine she looks on you as her chief patroness; because, although she be abundantly grateful to all her protectors, yet I observe your name most often in her mouth. I wish it were in my power to take the same journey; but neither my health nor the bad state of my private affairs will give me power or leave; I cannot make shift nor bear fatigue as I used to do. To live in England half as tolerably as I do here would ruin me. I must have two servants and three horses, and dare drink nothing but wine; and my ragged church-rents would never be paid in sister; he said we should kill him with eating and drinking. I had a very convenient apartment for him in the deanery-house; he would have all the civilities of this town; and Mrs. Barber will tell you that we never want a dozen or more of very valuable persons, and of both sexes, with whom to converse; I chid him soundly in my last letter for his want of friendship or resolution. You see, madam, I am full of talk, but you are to blame, for I imagine my self in your company, which is indeed no great compliment; and, upon second thoughts, it is not true, for I should be much better pleased to be your hearer. However, I should certainly ask you a thousand questions concerning yourself and Mr. Cæsar and your whole family. I have received so much friendship and so many civilities from you both that I shall ever own my obligations, which are much increased by Mrs. Barber's feeding my vanity with telling me that you did not receive her worse for her being recommended by me; yet I confess her expressions were in somewhat stronger terms. Pray God bless you and your family. I desire you will present my most humble service to Mr. Cæsar. I am, with the greatest respect, madam, your most obedient and most obliged humble servant, JONATHAN SWIFT TO THE RIGHT HON. JOHN BARBER, July, 173: MY LORD,-Although I never read news i oftes hear of your lordship's actions and speeches, par ticularly your and the city address to the house of commons for throwing out that execrable bill of excise, and your defence of the city in the answer you gave to the recorder on the subject of riots. I hope you will always remember that you learnt these honest principles under an honest ministry, and in what has been since called the worst of times, which I pray God we might live to see again. Our friend Mrs. Barber is recovering of her gout, and intends in a few weeks to return to London. My lord Orrery, although almost a stranger to her, and very much embroiled in his affairs by a most villanous agent, has been extremely generous to her in easing her of one part of her load; and I hope by the success of her poems she will be made tolerably easy and independent, as she well deserves for her virtue and good sense. My lord Orrery is the delight of us all. But we wish him hanged for coming among us since he cannot stay with us. Your chaplain writes to me very seldom, and I never can get him to answer me how he lives; I gave him credit upon a friend in London for any small sums of money, which I find he has received most of; so that I am afraid his salary, perquisites, or fees, or whatever else he is to live by, is not to come in till the end of his office. I hope he continues to behave himself well; and indeed I think him a very valu able young man. As to myself, my private affairs are in so ill a posture, and my head so disordered by returns of my old giddiness, that I cannot yet venture to take those journeys that I used to make nothing of, and God knows whether I shall be able to dine with your lordship in your mayoralty. Doctor Delany lives very happy and hospitably, entertains his old friends, and has nothing to fight with but envy, which he despises, and does not in the least deserve, but by those from whom it is a blessing. I think I have named all your acquaintance here; and I presume you will hardly trouble yourself to acquire more. Your lordship hath now got over more than half your difficulties. I doubt not but you will finish the rest with equal reputation, so that the year of your mayoralty will be long remembered with honour. I must desire leave to tell your lordship that I have not known a more bashful, modest person than Mrs. Barber, nor one who is less likely to ply her friends, patrons, or protectors, for any favour, or is more thankful for the smallest. Therefore I hope you will continue to do her any good office that lies in your way without trouble to yourself. And among other things I desire you will advise her to be more thrifty; for she carries her liberality as much too high as our friend sir Gilbert did his avarice. I thought I did a fine thing to subscribe for ten copies of her poems; and she contrived to send me presents that, in my conscience, are worth more than the money I subscribed. Having not heard lately of your being ill, I hope you have recovered your health entirely; and I pray God preserve it. I am, with true respect, my lord, your lordship's most obedient humble servant, JONATHAN SWIFT. FROM THE LORD-MAYOR OF LONDON. Goldsmiths' Hall, August 6, 1733. SIR,-I thank you heartily for your kind and affectionate letter, and I beg your pardon for not answering it sooner. I agree with you that I had the happiness of learning honest principles early from a set of great men, who will ever be an honour and an ornament to their country; and it is my greatest glory that in the late affair of the excise-bill (though I did nothing but my duty, and what every honest man in my station would have done) I acted consistent with those honest principles, and that my enemies as well as friends have generally approved my conduct. And believe me, sir, I speak it with great sincerity, that, when I consider how sparingly you and some other friends have ever been of your praises, your approbation affords me the greatest pleasure imaginable, as it gives me that inward peace of mind which the whole world could not purchase. My lord Orrery's amiable qualities must make him the delight of all with you, as he is truly so with us; and when he comes over " your loss will be our gain," as the proverb says. | to be a lucky man; but this year fortune has been my foe, for I have had no death happened in my year (a fiddler excepted) yet, nor have made 500%. in all. But my friends say it is made up in fame. I am very sorry your ill health continues; for I flattered myself with being very happy with you and some friends, on the important subject of the Cap of Maintenance, Custard, the Sword, and many other laudable things in the lord-mayor's house: and yet I hope to have that felicity, for there are three months to come, and who knows what may happen in that time? Nay, I do not despair of seeing you settled with your friends here before we are many years older. Do not start! stranger things have happened very lately. I was lately honoured at dinner with the lords Bolingbroke, Carteret, Winchelsea, Gower, and Mr. Pulteney; and among other things your name was mentioned, and lord Carteret instantly toasted your health; and you were the subject of conversation for an hour. I showed them your letter. I dare not mention what passed, because I know I shall offend your modesty; only one thing I will venture to repeat, "that they all swore that if ever the wind should change they would not long be deprived of the greatest genius of the age." The conversation turning on another subject, lord Carteret pulled me, to the window, and bade me tell you that he loved and honoured you, and so you should find on all occasions, and that he toasted your health. literally true, upon the honour of a This is I dined yesterday with lord Bolingbroke only: he complains you do not write to him: he is well. They say you are making interest for my brother of Dublin to be member of parliament; pray come over and do the same for me, and have the credit of both. My brother behaves himself well, I hear; if it is proper, my service to him. What you tell Mr. Pilkington of my speaking disrespectfully of the Irish is false and scandalous: I never used such an expression in my life; I appeal to all my acquaintance. I love the Irish. Pray God restore your health; and believe me always, with gratitude, your most obedient humble servant, JOHN BARBER. FROM MISS KELLY. London, August 12, 1733. I AM truly sorry, my dear sir, that I have not heard from you so long; but am much more concerned with Barber's account of your being not as well as I wish you. For God's sake try the change of air, and let not any other attachment than your health employ your thoughts. Consider how dear you are to your friends; but if that wont do let the detestation you must feel from giving pleasure to the unworthy make you careful of yourself. Indeed I should be glad to make you sensible that you are valued by all that have a taste for merit; and I should be very much pleased if you would think you owe so much to them that you would, for their sakes, preserve yourself. Believe me, sir, illness is not to be trifled with: I can speak on this subject as an take remedies in time. Forgive my impertinence, and be assured that none is more truly zealous for F. A. KELLY. your welfare than your I know nothing of Mr. Pilkington's affairs or ex-experienced person; and I earnestly entreat you to penses; what the city allows him is never paid till the end of the year; I have presented him, at twice, with forty pounds, which I design to make fifty; which sum has but one precedent; generally they have but thirty of the mayor. His behaviour is very well, and he is generally esteemed. I shall have great regard to your recommendations in favour of Mrs. Barber, and shall not fail of doing her any service in my power. I have been thought TO THE EARL OF ORRERY. Dublin, August 20, 1733. MY LORD,-1 lately received a letter from Mrs. Barber, wherein she desires my opinion about dedicating her poems to your lordship; and seems in |