that comes from Ireland pretends to be a friend of the Dean's. I am always glad to fee any that are truly fo, and therefore do not mistake any thing I faid, fo as to difcourage your fending any fuch to Adieu.

me.

Yo

LETTER LXXIV.

From Dr. SWIFT.

May 12, 1735.

YOUR letter was fent me yesterday by Mr. Stopford, who landed the fame day, but I have not yet feen him. As to my filence, God knows it is my great misfortune. My little domestic affairs are in great confufion, by the villainy of agents, and the miseries of this kingdom, where there is no money to be had: nor am I unconcern'd to fee all things tending towards abfolute power, in both nations (it is here in perfection already) although I' fhall not live to fee it established. This condition of things, both public and personal to myself, hath given me fuch a kind of defpondency, that I am almost unqualified for any company, diverfion, or amufement The death of Mr. Gay and the Do&tor, hath been terrible wounds near my heart. Their living would have been a great comfort to me, although I should never have seen them; like

* The Dean was frequently troubled, he tells us, with a giddinefs in his head.

a fum of money in a bank, from which I should receive at least annual intereft, as I do from you, and have done from my Lord Bolingbroke. To fhew in how much ignorance I live, it is hardly a fortnight fince I heard of the death of my Lady Masham, my conftant friend in all changes of times. God forbid that I fhould expect you to make a voyage that would in the leaft affect your health: but in the mean time how unhappy am I, that my best friend fhould have perhaps the only kind of disorder for which a fea-voyage is not in fome degree a remedy? The old Duke of Ormond faid, he would not change his dead fon (Offory) for the best living fon in Europe. Neither would I change you my abfent friend for the beft present friend round the Globe.

I have lately read a book imputed to Lord B. called a Differtation on Parties. I think it fterly written.

very ma.

Pray God reward you for your kind prayers: I believe your prayers will do me more good than thofe of all the Prelates in both kingdoms, or any Prelates in Europe, except the Bishop of Marseilles *. And God preferve you for contributing more to mend the world, than the whole pack of (modern) Parfons in a lump.

I am ever intirely yours,

*Who continued there with his flock all the time a dreadful peftilence defolated that city.

LETTER

LXXV.

From Dr. SwIFT.

Sept. 3, 1735.

T

66

HIS letter will be delivered to you by Faulkner the printer, who goes over on his private affairs. This is an answer to yours of two months ago, which complains of that profligate fellow Curl. I heartily wish you were what they call difaffected, as I am. I may fay as David did, I have finned greatly, but what have these sheep done? You have given no offence to the Miniftry, nor to the Lords, nor Commons, nor Queen, nor the next in power. For you are a man of virtue, and therefore must abhor vice and all corruption, although your difcretion holds the reins. "You need not fear any confequence in the commerce that hath fo long paffed "between us; although I never deftroy'd one of 66 your letters. But my Executors are men of ho"nour and virtue, who have ftrict orders in my will ss to burn every letter left behind me." Neither did our letters contain any Turns of Wit, or Fancy, or Politics, or Satire, but mere innocent Friendship: yet I am loth that any letters, from you and a very few other friends, fhould die before me; I believe we neither of us ever leaned our head upon our left hand to study what we should write next; yet we have held a conftant intercourfe from your youth and my middle age, and from your middle age it muft

be continued till my death, which my bad state of health makes me expect every month. I have the ambition, and it is very earnest as well as in hafte, to have one Epistle inscribed to me while I am alive, and you just in the time when wit and wisdom are in the height. I must once more repeat Cicero's defire to a friend; Orna me. A month ago were sent me over by a friend of mine, the works of John Hughes, Efq. They are in verfe and profe. I never heard of the man in my life, yet, I find your name as a fubfcriber too. He is too grave a Poet for me, and, I think, among the mediocribus in profe as well as verfe. I have the honour to know Dr. Rundle; he is indeed worth all the reft you ever fent us, but that is faying nothing, for he answers your character; I have dined thrice in his company. He brought over a worthy clergyman of this kingdom as his chaplain, which was a very wife and popular action. His only fault, is, that he drinks no wine, and I drink nothing else.

This kingdom is now abfolutely ftarving, by the means of every oppreffion that can be inflicted on mankind-Shall I not vifit for these things? faith the Lord. You advise me right, not to trouble myfelf about the world: But, oppreffion tortures me, and I cannot live without meat and drink, nor get either without money; and money is not to be had, except they will make me a Bishop, or a Judge, or a Colonel, or a Commiffioner of the Revenues. Adieu.

LETTER LXXVI.

O answer your queftion as to Mr. Hughes, what he wanted as to genius he made up as an honest man but he was of the class you think him.

I am glad you think of Dr. Rundle as I do. He will be an honour to the Bishops and a difgrace to one Bishop, two things you will like: But what you will like more particularly, he will be a friend and benefactor even to your un-friended, un-benefited Nation; he will be a friend to human race, whereever he goes. Pray tell him my best wishes for his health and long life: I wish you and he came over together, or that I were with you. I never faw a man fo feldom whom I liked fo much as Dr. Rundle.

Lord Peterborow I went to take a last leave of, at his fetting fail for Lisbon: No Body can be more wafted, no Soul can be more alive. Immediately after the fevereft operation of being cut into the bladder for a fuppreffion of urine, he took coach, and got from Bristol to Southampton. This is a man that will neither live nor die like any other mortal.

Poor Lord Peterborow; there is another ftring loft, that wou'd have help'd to draw you hither! He order'd on his death-bed his Watch to be given me (that which had accompanied him in all his travels) with this reafon," That I might have fomething to "put me every day in mind of him." It was a