man banished, and when I came home found it no home. 'Tis a fenfation like that of a limb lopp'd off, one is trying every minute unawares to use it, and finds it is not. I may fay you have used me more cruelly than you have done any other man ; you have made it more impoffible for me to live at ease without you: Habitude itfelf would have done that, if I had lefs friendship in my nature than I have. Befides my natural memory of you, you have made a local one, which prefents you to me in every place I frequent; I fhall never more think of Lord Cobham's, the woods of Ciceter, or the pleafing profpect of Byberry, but your Idea mult be join'd with 'em ; nor fee one feat in my own garden, or one room in my own houfe, without a Phantome of you, fitting or walking before me. I travell'd with you to Chester, I felt the extream heat of the weather, the inns, the roads, the confinement and clofenefs of the uneafy coach, and wifh'd a hundred times I had either a Deanery or a Horfe in my gift. In real truth, I have felt my foul peevish ever fince with all about me, from a warm uneafy defire after you. I am gone out of myself to no purpose, and cannot catch you. Inbiat in pedes was not more properly apply'd to a poor dog after a hare, than to me with regard to your departure. I with I could think no more of it, but lye down and fleep till we meet again, and let that day (how far foever off it be) be the morrow. Since I cannot, may it be my amends that every thing you with may attend you where you are, and that you may every friend you have there, in the ftate you with him, or her; fo that your vifits to us may have no other effect, than the progrefs of a rich man to a remote eftate, which he finds greater than he expected; which knowledge only ferves to make him live happier where he is, with no difagreeable profpect if ever he fhould chufe to remove. May this

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find

be

be your ftate till it become what I wish. But indeed I cannot express the warmth, with which I with you all things, and myself you. Indeed you are ingraved elsewhere than on the Cups you fent me, (with so kind an inscription) and I might throw them into the Thames without injury to the giver. I am not pleas'd with them, but take them very kindly too: And had I fufpected any fuch ufage from you, I fhould have enjoyed your company lefs than I really did, for at this rate I may say

Nec tecum poffum vivere, nec fine te.

I will bring you over just such another prefent, when I go to the Deanery of St. Patrick's; which I pramife you to do, if ever I am enabled to return your kindness. Donarem Pateras, &c. Till then I'll drink (or Gay fhall drink) daily healths to you, and I'll add to your infcription the old Roman vow for years to come, VOTIS X. VOTIS XX. My Mother's age gives me authority to hope it for yours. Adieu.

LETTER · XVII.

Sept. 3, 1726.

Ours to Mr. Gay gave me greater fatisfaction

You than that to me (tho' that gave me a great

deal) for to hear you were fafe at your journey's end, exceeds the account of your fatigues while in the way to it: otherwife believe me, every tittle of each is important to me, which fets any one thing before my eyes that happens to you. I writ you a long letter, which I guess reach'd you the day after your arrival. Since then I had a conference with Sir who express'd his defire of having feen again before you left us. He faid he obferved a will ingrefs in you to live among us; which I did not

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you

deny;

deny; but at the fame time told him, you had no fuch defign in your coming this time, which was merely to fee a few of thofe you loved: but indeed all those wifhed it, and particularly Lord Peterborow and myself, who wished you lov'd Ireland less, had you any reafon to love England more. I faid nothing but what I think wou'd induce any man to be as fond of you as I, plain Truth, did they know either it, or you. I can't help thinking (when I confider the whole fhort Lift of our friends) that none of them except you and I are qualify'd for the Mountains of Wales. The Dr. goes to Cards, Gay to Court; one lofes Money, one lofes his time: Another of our friends labours to be unambitious, but he labours in an unwilling foil. One Lady you like has too much of France to be fit for Wales: Another is too much a fubject to Princes and Potentates, to relish that wild Tafte of liberty and poverty. Mr. Congreve is too fick to bear a thin air; and fhe that leads him too rich to enjoy any thing. Lord Peterborow_can go to any climate, but never ftay in any. Lord Bathurft is too great an husbandman to like barren hills, except they are his own to improve. Mr. Bethel indeed is too good and too honeft to live in the world, but yet 'tis fit, for its example, he should. We are left to ourfelves in my opinion, and may live where we please, in Wales, Dublin, or Bermudas: And for me, I affure you I love the world so well, and it loves me so well, that I care not in what part of it I pass the rest of my days. I fee no funshine but in the face of a friend.

I had a glympfe of a letter of yours lately, by which I find you are (like the vulgar) apter to think well of people out of power, than of people in power; perhaps 'tis a mistake, but however there's fomething in it generous. Mr. ** takes it extreme kindly, I can perceive, and he has a great mind to thank you for that good opinion, for which

I believe

I believe he is only to thank his ill fortune: for if I am not in an error, he would rather be in power, than out.

To fhew you how fit I am to live in the mountains, I will with great truth apply to myself an old fentence: "Thofe that are in, may abide in; and "those that are out, may abide out: yet to me, ❝those that are in fhall be as thofe that are out, and "those that are out shall be as those that are in."

I am indifferent as to all those matters, but I miss you as much as I did the firft day, when (with a fhort figh) I parted. Wherever you are, (or on the mountains of Wales, or on the Coast of Dublin, Tu mihi, feu magni fuperas jam faxa Timavi, Sive oram Illyrici legis æquoris-)

I am, and ever fhall be Yours, &c.

LETTER XVIII.

Mr. GAY to Dr. SwIFT.

Nov. 17, 1726.

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Bout ten days ago a Book was publish'd here of the Travels of one Gulliver, which hath been the conversation of the whole town ever fince: the whole impreffion fold in a week; and nothing is more diverting than to hear the different opinions people give of it, though all agree in liking it extremely. 'Tis generally faid that you are the Author; but I am told, the Bookfeller declares, he knows not from what hand it came. From the highest to the lowest it is universally read, from the Cabinet-council to the Nursery. The Politicians to a man agree, that it is free from particular reflections, but that the Satire on general focieties of men

is too fevere. Not but we now and then meet with people of greater perfpicuity, who are in fearch for particular applications in every leaf; and 'tis highly probable we fhall have keys published to give light into Gulliver's defign. Lord is the perfon who leaft approves it, blaming it as a defign of evil confequence to depreciate human nature, at which it cannot be wondered that he takes moft offence, being himself the most accomplish'd of his fpecies, and fo lofing more than any other of that praise which is due both to the dignity and virtue of a man* Your friend, my Lord Harcourt, commends it very much; though he thinks in fome places the matter too far carried. The Duchefs Dowager of Marlborough is in raptures at it; the fays fhe can dream of nothing elfe fince the read it: fhe declares, that the hath now found out, that her whole life hath been loft in careffing the worst part of mankind, and treating the best as her foes; and that if fhe knew Gulliver,. tho' he had been the worst enemy she ever had, fhe would give up her prefent acquaintance for his friendship. You may fee by this, that you are not much injur'd by being fuppofed the Author of this piece. If you are, you have difobliged us, and two or three of your beft friends, in not giving us the leaft hint of it while you were with us; and in particular Dr. Arbuthnot, who fays it is ten thousand pitys he had not known it, he could have added fuch abundance of things upon every fubject. Among Lady-critics, fome have found out that Mr. Gulliver had a particular malice to Maids of honour. Those of them

It is no wonder a man of worth fhould condemn a fatire on his fpecies; as it injures Virtue and violates Truth: And, as little, that a very corrupt reader fhould approve it, because it juftifies his principles and tends to excufe his practice.

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