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From Dr SwIFT.
Dublin, July 8. 1733. Muft condole with you for the lofs of Mrs Pope, of whose death the papers have been full *. But I would rather rejoice with you, because, if any circumftances can make the death of a dear parent and friend a fubject for joy, you have them all. She died in an extreme old age, without pain, under the care of the moft dutiful fon that I have ever known or heard of, which is a felicity not happening to one in a million. The worst effect of her death falls upon me; and fo much the worse, because I expected aliquis damno ufus in illo, that it would be followed by making me and this kingdom happy with your prefence. But I am told, to my great misfortune, that a very convenient offer hap pening, you waved the invitation preffed on you, alledging the fear you had of being killed here with eating and drinking. By which I find, that you have given fome credit to a notion, of our great plenty and hofpitality. It is true, our meat and wine is cheaper here, as it is always in the poorest countries, because there is no money 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 ftate, 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 voy. age hither. All my acquaintance tell me, they know not above three families where they can occafionally 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 pafs the evening; where there is nothing of excess, either in eating or drinking. Our old friend Southern (who hath just left us) was invited to dinner once or twice by a judge, a bishop, or a commiffioner of the Mrs Pope died June 7. 1733, aged 93,
revenues; but most frequented a few particular friends, and chiefly the Doctor, who is easy in his fortune, and very hofpitable. The conveniencies of taking the air, winter or fummer, do far exceed thofe in London. For the two large ftrands just at two ends of the town, are as firm and dry in winter as in fummer. There are at leaft fix or eight gentlemen of fenfe, learning, good. humour, and taste, able and defirous to please you; and orderly females, fome of the better fort, to take care of you. These were the motives that I have frequently made ufe 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 fo uncertain that I dare not venture amongst you at prefent. I hate the thoughts of London; where I am not rich enough to live otherwife than by shifting, which is now too late. Neither can I have conveniencies in the country for three horfes and two fervants, 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 infuit me, like your rafcally waggoners or coachmen, but give me the way: nor is there one lord or 'fquire for a hundred of yours, to turn me out of the road, or run over me with their coaches and fix. Thus I make fome advantage of the public poverty; and give you the reasons for what I once writ, why I chufe to be a freeman among flaves, rather than a flave among freemen. Then I walk the ftreets in peace without being juftled, nor ever without a thousand bleffings from my friends the vulgar. I am Lord Mayor of 120 houfes, I am abfolute 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, fometimes attempts incroachments on my dominions, as old Lewis did upon Lorrain. In the midst of this raillery, I can tell you, with ferioufnefs, that these advantages contribute to my eafe, and therefore I value them. And in one part of your letter relating to my Lord B 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
Sept. 1. 1733.
Have every day wifhed to write to you, to fay a thousand things; and yet, I think, I fhould not have writ to you now, if I was not fick of writing any thing, fick of myself, and (what is worfe) fick of my friends too. The world is become too bufy for me; every body is fo concerned for the public, that all private enjoyments are loft or difrelifhed. I write more to fhow you I am tired of this life, than to tell you any thing relating to it. I live as I did, I think as I did, I love you as I did: but all these are to no purpofe; the world will not live, think, or love, as I do. I am troubled for, and vexed at all my friends by turns. Here are some whom you love, and who love you; yet they receive no proofs of that affection from you, and they give none of it to you. There is great gulf between. In earnest, I would go a thousand miles by land to fee you, but the fea I dread. My ailments are fuch, that I really believe a fea-fickness (confidering the oppreffion of colical pains, and the great weakness of my breaft) would kill me: and if I did not die of that, I muft of the exceffive eating and drinking of your hofpitable town, and the exceffive flattery of your most poetical country. I hate to be crammed either way. Let your hungry poets and your rhyming poets digeft it, I cannot. I like much better to be abufed and halfftarved, than to be fo over-praised and over-fed. Drown Ireland! for having caught you, and for having kept you. I only referve a little charity for her, for knowing your value, and efteeming you. You are the only patriot I know, who is not hated for ferving his coun
try. The man who drew your character, and printed it here, was not much in the wrong in many things he said of you: yet he was a very impertinent fellow for faying
them in words quite different from those you had yourfelf employed before on the fame fubject: for furely to alter your words is to prejudice them; and I have been told, that a man himself can hardly fay the fame thing twice over with equal happiness; nature is so much a better thing than artifice.
I have written nothing this year. It is no affectation to tell you, my mother's lofs has turned my frame of thinking. The habit of a whole life is a stronger thing than all the reafon in the world. I know I ought to be eafy, and to be free; but I am dejected, I am con fined: my whole amusement is in reviewing my past life, not in laying plans for my future. I wifh you cared as little for popular applaufe as I; as little for any nation, in contradiftinction to others, as I: and then I fancy, you that are not afraid of the fea, you that are a stronger man at fixty than ever I was at twenty, would come and fee several people, who are (at laft) like the primitive Chriftians, of one foul and of one mind. The day is come, which I have often wifhed, but never thought to fee, when every mortal that 1 efteem, is of the fame fentiment in politics and in religion..
Adieu. All you love are yours; but all are bufy, except (dear Sir) your fincere friend,
Jan. 6. 1734Never think of you, and can never write to you,. now, without drawing many of those fhort fighs of which we have formerly talked. The reflection both of the friends we have been deprived of by death, and of thofe from whom we are feparated almost as eternal ly by abfence, checks me to that degree, that it takes away in a manner, the pleafure (which yet I feel very fenfibly too) of thinking I am now converfing with you.. You have been filent to me as to your works; whether those printed here are, or are not genuine. But one,. I am fure, is yours; and your method of concealing yourself, puts me in mind of the Indian bird I have read of who hides his head in a hole, while all his feathers and
and tail stick out. You'll have immediately by several franks (even before it is here publifhed) my epiftle to Lord Cobham, part of my opus magnum, and the last Effay on Man; both which, I conclude, will be grateful to your bookfeller, on whom you please to bestow them fo early. There is a woman's war declared a gainst me by a certain Lord; his weapons are the same which women and children ufe, a pin to scratch, and a fquirt to befpatter. I writ a fort of anfwer; but was alhamed to enter the lifts with him, and after fhewing it to fome people, fuppreffed it: otherwife it was fuch as was worthy of him, and worthy of me. I was three weeks this autumn with Lord Peterborow; who rejoi ces in your doings, and always fpeaks with the greatest affection of you. I need not tell you who elfe do the fame; you may be sure almoft all those whom I ever fee, or defire to fee. I wonder not that B- paid you no fort of civility while he was in Ireland: he is too much a half-wit to love a true wit; and too much half-honest, to esteem any entire merit. I hope and think he hates me too, and I will do my best to make him: he is fo infupportably infolent in his civility to me when he meets me at one third place, that I muft affront him to be rid of it. The ftrict neutrality as to public parties, which I have conftantly obferved in all my writings, I think gives me the more title to attack fuch men, as flander and belye my character in private, to those who know me not. Yet even this is a liberty I will never take, unless at the fame time they are pefts of private fociety, or mischievous members of the public; that is to fay, unless they are enemies to all men, as well as to me. -Pray write to me when you can. If ever I can come to you, I will: if not, may Providence be our friend and our guard through this fimple world, where nothing is valuable but fenfe and friendship. Adieu, dear Sir; may health attend your years, and then may many years be added to you..
P. S. I am juft now told, a very curious lady intends to write to you to pump you about fome poems faid to be yours. Pray tell her, that you have not anfwered me on the fame queftions, and that I fhall take it as a