city is to get rid of fools and scoundrels; which I cannot but own to you was one part of my design in falling upon these authors, whose incapacity is not greater than their insincerity, and of whom I have always found (if I may quote myself) "That each bad author is as bad a friend." This poem will rid me of these insects: "Cedite, Romani Scriptores, cedite, Graii; I mean than my Iliad; and I call it Nescio quid, which is a degree of modesty; but however if it silence these fellows,* it must be something greater than any Iliad in Christendom. Adieu. I LETTER LXXIII. DR. SWIFT TO MR. POPE. Dublin, May 10, 1728. HAVE with great pleasure shewn the New England newspaper with the two names Jonathan Gulliver, and I remember Mr. Fortescue sent you an account from the assizes, of one Lemuel Gulliver who had a cause there, and lost it on his ill reputation of being a liar. These are not the only * It did, in a little time, effectually silence them. Warburton. + The circumstance seems almost too odd to be credited; for although the surname of Gilliver, or Gulliver, sometimes occurs, yet its being joined to the odd Christian name, Lemuel, and the attribute assigned to the witness, make the coincidence almost incredible. Sir W. Scott. observations I have made upon odd, strange accidents in trifles, which in things of great importance would have been matter for historians. Mr. Gay's opera hath been acted here twenty times, and my Lord Lieutenant tells me it is very well performed; he hath seen it often, and approves it much. You give a most melancholy account of yourself, and which I do not approve. I reckon that a man subject like us to bodily infirmities, should only occasionally converse with great people, notwithstanding all their good qualities, easinesses, and kindnesses. There is another race which I prefer before them, as beef and mutton for constant diet before partridges: I mean a middle kind both for understanding and fortune, who are perfectly easy, never impertinent, complying in every thing, ready to do a hundred little offices that you and I may often want, who dine and sit with me five times for once that I go with them, and whom I can tell without offence, that I am otherwise engaged at present. This you cannot expect from any of those that either you or I, or both, are acquainted with on your side; who are only fit for our healthy seasons, and have much business of their own. God forbid I should condemn you to Ireland (Quanquam O!) and for England I despair; and indeed a change of affairs would come too late at my season of life, and might probably produce nothing on my behalf. You have kept Mrs. Pope longer, and have had her care beyond what from nature you could expect; not but her loss will be very sensible whenever it shall happen. I say one thing, that both summers and winters are milder here than with you; all things for life in general better for a middling fortune: you will have an absolute command of your company, with whatever obsequiousness or freedom you may expect or allow. I have an elderly housekeeper, who hath been my W-lp-le above thirty years, whenever I lived in this kingdom. I have the command of one or two villas near this town: you have a warm apartment in this house, and two gardens for amusement. I have said enough, yet not half. Except absence from friends, I confess freely that I have no discontent at living here; besides what arises from a silly spirit of liberty, which as it neither sours my drink, nor hurts my meat, nor spoils my stomach farther than in imagination, so I resolve to throw it off. You talk of this Dunciad, but I am impatient to have it volare per ora-there is now a vacancy for fame; the Beggars' Opera hath done its task; discedat uti conviva satur. Adieu. LETTER LXXIV. DR. SWIFT TO MR. POPE. June 1, 1728. I LOOK upon my Lord Bolingbroke and us two, as a particular triumvirate, who have nothing to 1 expect, or to fear, and so far fittest to converse with one another; only he and I are a little subject to schemes, and one of us (I will not say which) upon very weak appearances, and this you have nothing to do with. I do profess without af fectation, that your kind opinion of me as a patriot (since you call it so) is what I do not deserve; because what I do is owing to perfect rage and resentment, and the mortifying sight of slavery, folly, and baseness about me, among which I am forced to live. And I will take my oath that you have more virtue in an hour, than I in seven years; for you despise the follies, and hate the vices of mankind, without the least ill effect on your temper: and with regard to particular men, you are inclined always rather to think the better, whereas with me it is always directly contrary. I hope, however, this is not in you from a superior principle of virtue, but from your situation, which hath made all parties and interests indifferent to you, who can be under no concern about high and low church, Whig and Tory, or who is first minister. Your long letter was the last I received, till this by Dr. Delany, although you mention another since. The Doctor told me your secret about the Dunciad, which does not please me, because it defers gratifying my vanity in the most tender point, and perhaps may wholly disappoint it. As to one of your inquiries, I am easy enough in great matters, and have a thousand paltry vexations in my little station, and the more contempt tease me. ease; ible, the more vexatious. There might be a Lutrin writ upon the tricks used by my Chapter to I do not converse with one creature of station or title, but I have a set of easy people whom I entertain when I have a mind; I have formerly described them to you; but when you come, you shall have the honours of the country as much as you please, and I shall on that account make a better figure as long as I live. Pray God preserve Mrs. Pope for your sake and I love and esteem her too much to wish it for her own: if I were five-and-twenty, I would wish to be of her age, to be as secure as she is of a better life. Mrs. P. B***.+ has writ to me, and is one of the best letter-writers I know; very good sense, civility, and friendship, without any stiffness or restraint. The Dunciad has taken wind here, but if it had not, you are as much known here as in England, and the University-lads will crowd to kiss the hem of your garment. I am grieved to hear that my Lord Bolingbroke's ill health forced him to the Bath. Tell me, is not Temperance a necessary virtue for great men, since it is the parent of Ease and Liberty; so necessary for the use and improvement of the mind, and which philosophy allows to be the greatest felicities of life? I believe, had health been given so liberally to you, it would have been better husbanded without shame to your parts. + Patty Blount. |