ignominy as you will not much grieve to wear in that company. Adieu, and God bless you, and give you health and spirits, Whether thou chufe Cervantes' ferious air, These two verses are over and above what I've faid of you in the Poem. a Adieu. LETTER XXVII. Dr. SWIFT to Mr. GAY. Dublin, Nov. 27, 1727. Entirely approve your refufal of that employment, and your writing to the Queen. I am perfectly confident you have a keen enemy in the Ministry. God forgive him, but not till he puts himself in a state to be forgiven. Upon reasoning with myself, I should hope they are gone too far to discard you quite, and that they will give you fomething; which, although much less than they ought, will be (as far as it is worth) better circumftantiated: And fince you already just live, a middling help will make you just tolerable. Your latenefs in life (as you fo foon call it) might be improper to • We fee by this, with what judgment Mr. Pope cor rected and erased. begin the world with, but almost the eldest men may hope to fee changes in a Court. A Minister is always feventy: You are thirty years younger; and confider, Cromwell himself did not begin to appear till he was older than you. I beg you will be thrifty, and learn to value a fhilling, which Dr. Birch faid was a serious thing. Get a ftronger fence about your 1000 l. and throw the inner fence into the heap, and be advised by your Twickenham landlord and me about an annuity. You are the most refractory, honeft, good-natur'd man I ever have known; I could argue out this paper - I am very glad your opera is finished, and hope your friends will join the readier to make it fuccced, because you are ill used by others. I have known Courts these thirty-fix years, and know they differ; but in fome things they are extremely conftant: Firft, in the trite old maxim of a Minifter's never forgiving those he hath injured: Secondly, in the infincerity of those who would be thought the best friends: Thirdly, in the love of fawning, cringing, and tale-bearing: Fourthly, in facrificing those whom we really wish well, to a point of intereft, or intrigue: Fifthly, in keeping every thing worth taking, for those who can do fervice or dif-fervice. Now Now why does not Pope publish his dulnefs? the rogues he marks will die of themfelves in peace, and fo will his friends, and fo there will be neither punishment nor reward— Pray enquire how my Lord St. John does? there's no man's health in England I am more concerned about than his.-I wonder whether you begin to taste the pleasure of independency; or whether you do not fometimes leer upon the Court, oculo retorto? Will you not think of an Annuity, when you are two years older, and have doubled your purchase-money? Have you dedicated your Opera, and got the ufual dedication-fee of twenty guineas? How is the Doctor? does he not chide that you never called upon him for hints? Is my Lord Bolingbroke at the moment I am writing, a planter, a philofopher, or a writer? Is Mr. Pulteney in expectation of a fon, or my Lord Oxford of a new old manuscript? I bought your opera to-day for fixpence, a curfed print. I find there is neither dedication nor preface, both which wants I approve; it is in the grand gout. We are all as full of it pro modulo noftro as London can be; continually acting, and houses cramm'd, and the Lord Lieutenant feveral times there laughing his heart out. I did not understand that the scene of Locket and Peachum's H 3 um's quarrel was an imitation of one between Brutus and Caffius, till I was told it. I wish Mackheath, when he was going to be hang'd, had imitated Alexander the great when he was dying: I would have had his fellow-rogues defire his commands about a Succeffor, and he to anfwer, Let it be the moft worthy, &c. We hear a million of ftories about the Opera, of the applaufe of the fong, That was level'd at me, when two great Minifters were in a box together, and all the world staring at them. I am heartily glad your Opera hath mended your purse, though perhaps it may spoil your court. Will you defire my Lord Bolingbroke, Mr. Pulteney, and Mr. Pope, to command you to buy an annuity with two thousand pounds? that you may laugh at courts, and bid Minifters Ever preserve some spice of the Alderman, and prepare against Age and Dulnefs, and Sicknefs, and Coldnefs or Death of Friends. A Whore has a refource left, that the can turn bawd; but an old decay'd Poet is a creature abandon'd, and at mercy, when he can find Get me likewife Polly's Meffo-tinto. Lord, how the fchool-boys at Westminster, and Univerfity lads adore you at this juncture! Have you made as many men laugh, as Minifters can make weep? none. 4 I will I will excufe Sir-the trouble of a letter: When Ambassadors came from Troy to condole with Tiberius upon the death of his Nephew, after two years; the Emperor answered, that he likewise condoled with them for the untimely death of Hector. I always loved and respected him very much, and do ftill as much as ever; and it is a return fufficient, if he pleafes to accept the offers of my most humble service, The Beggar's Opera hath knock'd down Gulliver; I hope to fee Pope's Dulness knock down the Beggar's Opera, but not till it hath fully done its jobb. To expofe vice, and make people laugh with innocence, does more public fervice than all the Ministers of state from Adam to Walpole, and fo adieu. LETTER XXVIII. Lord BOLINGBROKE to Dr. SWIFT. OPE charges himself with this letter; he has been here two days, he is now hurrying to London, he will hurry back to Twickenham in two days more, and before the end of the week he will be, for ought I know, at Dublin. H 4 |