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LETTER LXXI.

Sept. 15, 1734.

Have ever thought you as fenfible as any man I knew, of all the delicacies of friendship, and yet I fear (from what Lord B. tells me you faid in your last letter) that you did not quite understand the reason of my late filence. I affure you it proceeded wholly from the tender kindness I bear you. When the heart is full, it is angry at all words that cannot come up to it; and you are now the man in all the world I am most troubled to write to, for you are the friend I have left whom I am moft grieved about. Death has not done worse to me in separating poor Gay, or any other, than difeafe and abfence in dividing us. I am afraid to know how you do, fince most accounts I have, give me pain for you, and I am unwilling to tell you the condition of my own health. If it were good, I would fee you; and yet if I found you in that very condition of deafnefs, which made you fly from us while we were together, what comfort could we derive from it? In writing often I should find great relief, could we write freely and yet, when I have done fo, you feem by not anfwering in a very long time, to feel either the fame uneafinefs as I do, or to abftain, from some prudential reason. Yet I am fure, nothing that you and I wou'd fay to each other, (tho' our own fouls were to be laid open to the clerks of the post-office) could hurt either of us fo much, in the opinion of any honeft man or good subject, as the

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intervening, officious, impertinence of thofe Goers between us, who in England pretend to intimacies with you, and in Ireland to intimacies with me. I cannot but receive any that call upon me in your name, and in truth they take it in vain too often. I take all opportunities of justifying you against these Friends, especially those who know all you think and write, and repeat your flighter verses. It is generally on fuch little scraps that Witlings feed, and 'tis hard the world fhould judge of our house-keeping from what we fling to our dogs, yet this is often the confequence. But they treat you ftill worse, mix their own with yours, print them to get money, and lay them at your door. This I am fatisfied was the cafe in the Epistle to a Lady; it was just the fame hand (if I have any judgment in ftyle) which printed your Life and Character before, which you fo ftrongly difavow'd in your letters to lord Carteret, myself, and others. I was very well informed of another fact, which convinced me yet more; the fame perfon who gave this to be printed, offer'd to a book feller a piece in profe as yours, and as commiffioned by you, which has fince appear'd, and been own'd to be his own. I think (I fay once more) that I know your hand, tho' you did not mine in the Effay on Man. 1 beg your pardon for not telling you, as I fhould, had you been in England: but no fecret can cross your Irish Sea, and every clerk in the poft-office had known it. I fancy, tho' you loft fight of me in the first of those Effays, you faw me in the fecond. The defign of

concealing myself was good, and had its full effect; I was thought a Divine, a Philofopher, and what not; and my doctrine had a fanction I could not have given to it. Whether I can proceed in the fame grave march like Lucretius, or must descend to the gayeties of Horace, I know not, or whether I can do either? but be the future as it will, I fhall collect all the past in one fair quarto this winter, and fend it you, where you will find frequent mention of yourself. I was glad you fuffer'd your writings to be collected more completely than hitherto, in the volumes I daily expect from Ireland; I wish'd it had been in more pomp, but that will be done by others: yours are beauties, that can never be too finely dreft, for they will ever be young. I have only one piece of mercy to beg of you; do not laugh at my gravity, but permit me to wear the beard of a.Philofopher, till 1 pull it off, and make a jeft of it myself. "Tis juft what my Lord B. is doing with Metaphyfics. I hope, you will live to fee, and ftare at the learned figure he will make, on the fame shelf with Locke and Malbranche.

You fee how I talk to you (for this is not writing) if you like I should do fo, why not tell me fo? if it be the leaft pleasure to you, I will write once a week most gladly; but can you abstract the letters from the perfon who writes them, fo far, as not to feel more vexation in the thought of our feparation, and thofe misfortunes which occafion it, than fatisfaction in the Nothings he can exprefs? If you can, really and from my heart I cannot. I return again

to melancholy. Pray, however, tell me, is it a fatisfaction? that will make it one to me; and we will think alike, as friends ought, and you fhall hear from me punctually just when you will.

P. S. Our friend, who is juft returned from a progrefs of three months, and is fetting out in three days with me for the Bath, where he will stay till towards the middle of October, left this letter with me yesterday, and I cannot feal and difpatch it till I have fcribbled the remainder of this page full. He talks very pompously of my Metaphyfics, and places them in a very honourable ftation. It is true, I have writ fix letters and an half to him on fubjects of that kind, and I propofe a letter and an half more, which would fwell the whole up to a confiderable volume. But he thinks me fonder of the Name of an Author than I am. When he and you, and one or two other friends have seen them, fatis magnum Theatrum mihi eftis, I fhall not have the itch of making them more public+. I know how little regard you pay to Writings of this kind. But I imagine that if you can like any fuch, it must be those that ftrip Metaphyfics of all their bombaft, keep within the fight of every well-conftituted Eye, and never bewilder themselves whilft they pretend to guide the reafon of others. I writ to you a long letter fome

His Lordship, as appears by his laft will, altered his mind ; and they have been fince given to the world, to the admiration and aftonishment of all the learned and the pious.

time ago, and fent it by the poft. Did it come to your hands? or did the inspectors of private correfpondence ftop it, to revenge themselves of the ill faid of them in it? Vale & me ama.

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LETTER LXXII.

From Dr. SWIFT.

Nov. 1, 1734

Have yours with my Lord B's Postscript of September 15: it was long on its way, and for fome weeks after the date I was very ill with my two inveterate disorders, giddiness and deafness. The latter is pretty well off; but the other makes me totter towards evenings, and much dispirits me. But I continue to ride and walk, both of which, although they be no cures, are at least amufements. I did never imagine you to be either inconftant, or to want right notions of friendship, but I apprehend your want of health; and it hath been a frequent wonder to me how you have been able to entertain the world, fo long, fo frequently, fo happily, under fo many bodily diforders. My Lord B. fays you have been three months rambling, which is the belt thing you can poffibly do in a fummer feafon; and when the winter recalls you, we will, for our own interefts, leave you to your fpeculations. God be thanked, I have done with every thing, and of every kind that requires writing, except now and then a letter, VOL. X. Q