head-ach, &c. If greater pains arrive (such as my late rheumatifm) the fervants bathe and plafter me, or the furgeon fcarifies me, and I bear it, because I muft. This is the evil of nature, not of Fortune. I am juft now as well as when you was here: I pray God you were no worfe. I fincerely with my life were paft near you, and, fuch as it is, I would not repine at it mention remember you and with

---All you here.

you,

LETTER LVII.

Dr. SWIFT to Mr. GAY.

Dublin, May 4, 1732.

Am now as lame as when you writ your

I A

letter, and almost as lame as your letter itself, for want of that limb from my Lady Duchefs, which you promis'd, and without which I wonder how it could limp hither. I am not in a condition to make a true ftep even on Aimbury Downs, and I declare that a corporeal falle ftep is worfe than a political one; nay worse than a thoufand political ones, for which I appeal to Courts and Minifters, who hobble on and profper, without the fenfe of feeling. To talk of riding and walking is in

fulting

fulting me, for I can as foon fly as do either. It is your pride or laziness, more than chairhire, that makes the town expenfive. No honour is loft by walking in the dark and in the day, you may beckon a black-guard-boy under a gate, near your vifiting place (experto crede) fave eleven pence, and get half a crown's worth of health. The worft of my prefent misfortune is, that I eat and drink, and can digeft neither for want of exercise; and, to increase my mifery, the knaves are fure to find me at home, and make huge void fpaces in my cellars. I congratulate with you, for lofing your Great acquaintance; in fuch a cafe, philosophy teaches that we must fubmit, and be content with good ones. I like Lord Cornbury's refufing his penfion, but I demur at his being elected for Oxford; which, I conceive, is wholly changed; and entirely devoted to new principles; fo it appeared to me the two laft times I was there.

I find by the whole caft of your letter, that you are as giddy and as volatile as ever, juft the reverse of Mr. Pope, who hath always loved a domestic life from his youth. I was going to with you had fome little place that you could your own, but I profefs, I do not know you well enough to contrive any one fyftem of life that would pleafe you. You pretend to preach up riding and walking to the Duchefs,

call

I

yet, from my knowledge of you after twenty years, you always joined a violent defire of perpetually shifting places and company, with a rooted laziness, and an utter impatience of fatigue. A coach and fix horfes is the utmost exercise you can bear, and this only when you can fill it with fuch company as is best suited to your taste, and how glad would you be if it could waft you in the air to avoid jolting? while I, who am so much later in life, can, or at least could, ride 500 miles on a trotting horfe. You mortally hate writing, only because it is the thing you chiefly ought to do: as well to keep up the vogue you have in the world, as to make you eafy in your fortune: You are merciful to every thing but money, your best friend, whom yon treat with inhumanity. Be affured, I will hire people to watch all your return me a faithful account. you cured tend to trifles? can you at Aimsbury write domeftic libels to divert the family and neighbouring fquires for five miles round? or venture so far on horseback, without apprehending a stumble at every step? can you set the footmen a laughing as they wait at dinner? and do the Duchefs's women admire your wit? in what esteem are you with the Vicar of the parish? can you play with him at back-gammon? have

your

motions, and to

Tell me, have absence of mind? can you at

the

the farmers found out that you cannot distinguish rye from barley, or an oak from a crab-tree? You are fenfible that I know the full extent of your country skill is in fishing for Roaches, or Gudgeons at the highest.

I love to do you good offices with your friends, and therefore defire you will show this letter to the Duchefs, to improve her Grace's good opinion of your qualifications, and convince her how useful you are like to be in the family. Her Grace fhall have the honour of my correspondence again when she goes to Aimsbury. Hear a piece of Irish news, I buried the famous General Meredith's father laft night in my Cathedral, he was ninety-fix years old: fo that Mrs. Pope may live seven years longer. You faw Mr. Pope in health, pray is he generally more healthy than when I was amongst you? I would know how your own health is, and how much wine you drink in a day? My stint in company is a pint at noon, and half as much at night, but I often dine at home like a hermit, and then I drink little or none at all. Yet I differ from you, for I would have fociety, if I could get what I like, people of middle understanding, and middle rank.

Adieu.

LET

LETTER LVIII.

Dublin, July 10, 1732.

I

Had your letter by Mr. Ryves a long time after the date, for I fuppofe he stayed long in the way. I am glad you determine upon fomething; there is no writing I esteem more than Fables, nor any thing fo difficult to fucceed in, which however you have done excellently well, and I have often admired your happiness in such a kind of performances which I have frequently endeavour'd at in vain. I remember I acted as you feem to hint; I found a Moral first and studied for a Fable, but could do nothing that pleafed me, and fo left off that fcheme for ever. I remember one, which was to represent what fcoundrels rife in armies by a long War, wherein I fuppos'd the Lion was engaged, and having loft all his animals of worth, at last Serjeant Hog came to be Brigadier, and Corporal Ass a Colonel, &c. I I agree with you likewise about getting fomething by the stage, which, when it fucceeds, is the best crop for poetry in England: But, pray, take fome new scheme, quite different from any thing you have already touched. The present humour of the players, who hardly (as I was

told