ing upon the brink of another world, gives me great pain for it makes me, in tenderness to him, with him with you; and at the fame time I fear he is not in a condition to make the journey. Tho' (to ease you as far as I can) his phyfician and friend, Dr Arbuthnot, affures me, he will foon be well. At prefent he is very deaf, and more uneafy than I hoped that complaint alone would have made him. I apprehend he has written to you in a melancholy way; which has put you into a greater fright, than (with God's will) we may have any reafon for. He talks of returning to Ireland in three weeks, if he recovers fufficiently; if not, he will stay here this winter. Upon pretence of fome very unavoidable occafions, he went to London four days fince, where I fee him as often as he will let me. I was extremely concerned at his opiniatreté in leaving me; but he fhall not get rid of the friend, tho' he may of his houfe. I have fuggefted to him the remedy you mention; and I will not leave him a day till I fee him better. I wish you could fee us in England, without manifest inconvenience to yourself; tho' I heartily hope and believe, that our friend will do well. I fincerely honour you for your warmth of affection, where it is so juftly merited; and am, both for his fake and your own, with great esteem, yours, &c.

A POPE.

P. 3. I have often defired the Dean to make known to you my fenfe of the good opinion you have expreffed of me in your letters. I am pleased to have an opportunity of thanking you under my hand'; and I defire you to continue it, to one who is no way ungrateful.

LET

This letter was probably an answer to one fent by Dr Sheridan to Mr Pope, when he last wrote to the Dean. The reafon of his going to London appears by the two preceding letters; and about the time mentioned in this, he returned again to Ireland. Mrs Johnfon languished till the 28th of January following, and then died. During her fickness, he compofed the prayers which immediately follow this collection of letters. They were originally printed from his own hand writing. Hawkef.

DEAR MADAM,

HO'

TH

Deanery-house, Dec. 7. 1727.

I fee you feldomer than is agreeable to my inclinations, yet you have no friend in the world that is more concerned for any thing that can affect your mind, your health, or your fortune. I have always had the highest esteem for your virtue, the greatest value for your converfation, and the trueft affection for your perfon; and therefore cannot but heartily condole with you for the lofs of fo amiable, and (what is more) so favourite a child. Thefe are the neceffary confequences of too ftrong attachments, by which we are grieving ourfelves with the death of thofe we love; as we must one day grieve those who love us, with the death of ourfelves. For life is a tragedy, wherein we fit as fpectators a while, and then at our own part in it. Selflove, as it is the motive to all our actions, fo it is the fole cause of our grief. The dear perfon you lament, is by no means an object of pity, either in a moral or religious fenfe. Philofophy always taught men to defpife life, as a moft contemptible thing in itself; and religion regards it only as a preparation for a better; which you are taught to be certain that fo innocent a perfon is now in poffeffion of; fo that she is an immenfe gainer, and you and her friends the only lofers. Now, under misfortunes of this kind, I know no confolation more effectual to a reasonable perfon, than to reflect rather upon what is left, than what is loft. She was neither an only child, nor an only daughter. You have three children left; one of them of an age to be ufeful to his family*, and the two others as promifing as can be expected from their age: fo that, according to the general difpenfations of God almighty, you have small reafon to repine upon that article of life. And religion will tell you, that the true way to preferve them is, not Y 2

Charles Devinesh, Efq;

to

to fix any of them too deep in your heart; which is a weakness that God feldom leaves long unpunished; common obfervation fhewing us, that fuch favourite children are either spoiled by their parents indulgence, or foon taken out of the world; which laft is, generally fpeaking, the lighter punishment of the two.

GOD, in his wifdom, hath been pleafed to load our declining years with many fufferings, with difeafes, and decays of nature, with the death of many friends, and the ingratitude of more; fometimes with the lofs or diminution of our fortunes, when our infirmities most need them; often with contempt from the world, and always with neglect from it; with the death of our most hopeful or useful children; with a want of relish for all worldly enjoyments; with a general diffike of perfons and things: and tho' all these are very natural effects of increafing years, yet they were intended by the author of our being, to wean us gradually from our fondness of life, the nearer we approach towards the end of it. And this is the ufe you are to make, in prudence as well as in confcience, of all the afflictions you have hitherto undergone, as well as of thofe which, in the courfe of nature and providence, you have reason to expect. May God, who hath endued you with fo many virtues, add ftrength of mind, and reliance upon his mercy, in proportion to your prefent fufferings, as well as thofe he may think fit to try you with, thro' the remainder of your life.

I fear my prefent ill difpofition, both of health and mind*, has made me but a forry comforter; however, it will fhew, that no circumstance of life can put you out of my mind; and that I am, with the trueft respect, esteem, and friendship,

Dear MADAM,

Your most obedient,

and most humble fervant,

JONATH. SWIFT.

LET

was written little more than a month bere Mrs.

Johnfon's death, an event which was then almost dily ex

pected. Hawkes.

LETTER CXXV.

Dr SWIFT to Dr SHERIDAN.

Market-hill*, Aug 2. 1728.

UR friends here, as well as myfelf, were fadly dif appointed upon hearing the account of your jour ney. No body in town or country, as we were inform ed, knew where you were but I perfuaded our family, that you were certainly in a way of making yourself. eafy, and had got that living you mentioned; and accordingly we were grieved and rejoiced at the lofs and fettlement of a friend: but it never entered into our heads, that you were beftowing forty days in feveral ftages between conftable and conftable, without any real benefit to yourself, further than of exercise; and we wished, that no body fhould have had the benefit of your long abfence from your fchool but yourself, by a good living, or we by your good company; much lefs that the pleafure of fpighting T -had been your great motive. I heartily with you were fettled at Hamilton's Bawn; and I would be apt to advife you. not to quit your thoughts that way, if the matter may be brought to bear; for by a letter I juft received from the Bishop of Cork, which was fhort and dry, with the ftale excufe of pre-engagements, 1 doubt you can hope nothing from him. As to what you call my exercife, I have long quitted it. It gave me too much con ftraint, and the world does not defèrve it. We may keep it cold, till the middle of winter..

As to my return, there are many fpeculations. I am well here, and hate removals. My fcheme was, that you should coine hither, as you fay, and I return with you in your chaife Sir Arthur. on hearing your letter, preffed me to stay longer I am a very busy man, such as at Quilca, which you will know when you come": yet I would contrive to be preffed more to ftay till Christmas, and then you may contrive to be here again, Y 3

Ae feat of Sir Arthur Achefon.

and

to fix any of them too deep in your heart; which is a weakness that God feldom leaves long unpunished; common obfervation fhewing us, that fuch favourite children are either spoiled by their parents indulgence, or foon taken out of the world; which laft is, generally fpeaking, the lighter punishment of the two.

GOD, in his wifdom, hath been pleased to load our declining years with many fufferings, with difeafes, and decays of nature, with the death of many friends, and the ingratitude of more; fometimes with the lofs or diminution of our fortunes, when our infirmities most need them; often with contempt from the world, and always with neglect from it; with the death of our most hopeful or useful children; with a want of relish for all worldly enjoyments; with a general diffike of perfons and things: and tho' all thefe are very natural effects of increafing years, yet they were intended by the author of our being, to wean us gradually from our fondness of life, the nearer we approach towards the end of it. And this is the ufe you are to make, in prudence as well as in confcience, of all the afflictions you have hitherto undergone, as well as of thofe which, in the course of nature and providence, you have reason to expect. May God, who hath endued you with fo many virtues, add ftrength of mind, and reliance upon his mercy, in proportion to your prefent fufferings, as well as those he may think fit to try you with, thro' the remainder of your life

I fear my prefent ill difpofition, both of health and mind, has made me but a forry comforter: however, it will fhew, that no circumftance of life can put you out of my mind; and that I am, with the trueft respect, esteem, and friendship,

Dear MADAM,

Your most obedient,

and most humble fervant,

JONATH. SWIFT.

LET

It was written little more than a month bere Mrs.

Johnfon's death, an event which was then almost dly ex

pected. Hawkes.