received me with great good humour: faid fomething bad hap. pened fince he faw me laft, that had convinced him of my merit; that he was forry he had treated me with fo little diftinction, and that hereafter I should not be put upon the foot of an humble companion, but treated like a lady of wit, and learning, and fortune; that if he could prevail on Dr Sheridan to part with his wife, he would make her bis friend, his nurse, and the manager of his family. I approved entirely of his choice; and at the fame time expreffed my fears, that it would be impoffible for you to think of living without ber. This is all that flicks with me. But confidering the friendship you exprefs to me for the Dean, I hope you will be perfuaded to confider bis good rather than your own, and fend her up immediately; or else it will put him to the expence of giving three fillings and four pence for a wife; and be declares that the badness of pay of his tithes, fince the refolutions of the parliament of Ireland, puts this out of his power.

I could not guess why you were so angry at Fowlbrother; till Mrs Whiteway, who you find is now with me, faid it was for publishing fome works of yours and mine like a rogue; which is fo ufual to their trade, that I now am weary of being angry with it. I go on, to defire that Mrs Donaldfont will let me know what I owe her, not in juftice but generofity. If you could find wine and victuals, I could be glad to pass some part of the fummer with you, if health would permit me; for I have fome club-enemies, that would be glad to fhoot me, and I do not love to be fhot: it is a death I have a particular averfion to. But I fhall henceforth walk with fervants well armed, and have ordered them to kill my killers; however, I would have them be the beginners. I will do what I can with Mr R—,who (money excepted) is a very honeft man. How is your

breathing? As to myfelf, my life and health are not worth a groat. How fhall we get wine to your cabin ? I can fpare fome; and am preparing diaculum to fave my fkin as far as Cavan, and even to Belturbut. Pray God preferve you,,

† An innkeeper at Cavan.

I am, &c.

LET

YOU

Dublin, June 5. 1736.

OU muft pay your groat (as if you had been drunk laft night) for this letter; because I am neither acquainted with any frank cur, nor the

of

frank king. I am glad you have got the piles, becaufe it is a mark of health, and a ftrong conftitution. I believe what you fay of the legion-club poem; for it plainly appears a work of a legion-club; for I hear there are fifty different copies: but what's that to me? And you are in the right, that they are not treated according to their merit. You never writ fo regularly in your life; and therefore when you write to me, always take care to have the piles; I mean any pilest, except thofe of lime and stone; and yet piles are not fo bad as the ftone. I find you intend to be here (by your date) in a dozen days hence. The room fhall be ready for you; tho I shall never have you in a morning, or at dinner, or in an evening; at all other times I fhall be peftered with you. John R(for he does not deferve the name of Jack) is gone to his fix miles-off country-feat for the fummer. I admire at your bill of 101. odd; for I thought your first was double: or is it an additional one? When you fatisfy me, I will fend down to him with a vengeance; altho', except that damned vice of avarice, he is a very agreeable man.. As to your venison, vain is one who expects it. I am checking you for your chickens, and could lamb you for your lambs. Addenda

quadam.

My wife a rattling,

My children tattling.

My money pent is,

And due my rent is.

My

The author held puns in contempt, but would sometimes

make himself merry with them,

My School decreafing,
My income ceafing
All people teafe me,
But no man pays me.
My Worship is bit,
By that rogue Nifbit..
To take the right way,
Confult friend Whiteway.
Would you get still more?
Go flatter Kilmoret.
Your geefe are old,

Your wife a fcold.

You live among ill folks in a dunghill.
You never have an old friend at Cavan.

MRS Whiteway is ever your friend; but your old ones have forfaken you, as mine have me. My head is very bad; and I have just as much spirits left as a drowned mouse. Pray do not you give yourself airs of pretend ing to have flies in fummer at Cavan; and fuch a no fummer as this. I, who am the best fly-catcher in the kingdom, have not thought it worth my time to fhow my kill in that art. I believe nothing of your garden-improvements; for I know you too well. What you fay of your leanness is incredible; for when I faw you laft, you were as broad as long. But if you continue to breathe free, (which nothing but exercise can give), you may be fafe with as little flesh as I, which is none at all. I had your letter just before this was fealed, but f cannot answer it now.

I

LETTER CXXXIV.

Dr SWIFT to Dr SHERIDAN.

July 10. 1736.

Received your two letters. The firft is mingled with
Latin and English, one following the other now

† Dr Jofiah Hort, then Bishop of Kilmore.

I

I fcorn that way, and put both languages in one. However, for the fake of order, I will begin with anfwering your fecond letter before the first, because it deferves one on account of your presents. From bogs, rivers, mountains, mofles, quagmires, heaths, lakes, kennels, ditches, weeds, &c. &c. &c. &c.——Mrs Whiteway was pleased, altho' very unjaftly, to criticife upon every curiofity. She fwears, the paper of gravel was of your own voiding, as the found by the fmell: that your whole artichoak leaf fhows its mother to be smaller than a nutmeg; and I confefs you were fomewhat unwary in expofing it to cenfure. Your rafberry the compared with the head of a corking pin, and the latter had the victory. Your currants were invifible, and we could not diftinguish the red from the black. Your purflane paffed very well with me, but she swore it was houseleek. She denies your Cavan fly to be genuine ; but will have it, that, for the credit of your town, you would have it born there, altho' Mrs Donaldfon confeffes it was fent her in a box of brown fugar, and died as it entered the gates. Mrs Whiteway proceeds further in her malice, declaring your nafturtium to be only a p-fs-a-bed; your beans as brown as herself, and of the fame kind with what we fatten hogs in Leicester fhire. In one thing the admires your generofity, that, for her fake, you would fpare a drop or two of your canal-water, which by the fpungy bottom needs it fo much. The only defects of them all were, that they wanted colour, fight, and fmell; yet, as to the laft, we both acknowledged them all to exhale a general fuftiness, which however did much refemble that of your Cavan air.

Received your letter, which begun with lingst. You have thirteen in all, and I have got but a hundred

↑ A termination whimsically applied. See the next letter.

and

and fixty; a trifle! Find me ten more than mine, and I will give you ten guineas for the eleventh. Mine are all down, and only twelve, which are not entered in a letter; which I will fend you when health permits, and I have nothing elfe to do; and that may be a twelvemonth hence, if my disorder will let me hold out fo long. You were born to be happy, for you take the leaft piece of good fortune chearfully. I fuppofe your arithmetic is, that three boys a-week are a hundred and fifty-nine in a year; and seven guineas a week are three hundred and fixty-five per annum. Can you reckon, that the county, and the next, and Dublin, will provide you with thirty lads in all, and good pay, of which a dozen shall be lodgers? Does the cheapnefs of things answer your expectation? Have you fent away your late younger-married daughter? and will you fend away the other? Let me defire you will be very regular in your accounts; because a very honeft friend of yours and mine tells me, that, with all your honefty, it is an uneafy thing to have any dealings with you that relate to accounts, by your frequent forgetfulnefs and confufion for you have no notion of regularity; and I do not wonder at it, confidering the fcattered, confufed manner in which you have lived. Mrs Whiteway thanks you for the good opinion you have of her; and I know the always loved and defended you. I cannot tell when I fhall be able to travel. I have three other engagements on my hands, but the principal is to fee the Bifhop of Offory. Yet I dread the lying abroad above five miles. I am never well. Some fudden turns are every day threatning me with a giddy fit; and my affairs are terribly embroiled. I have a scheme of living with you, when the Collegegreen club is to meet: for in thefe times I deteft the town, and hearing the follies, corruptions, and flavish practices of thofe mifreprefentative brutes; and refolve, if I can ftir, to pass that whole time at Bath or Cavan. I fay again, keep very regular accounts, in large books, and a fair hand; not like me, who, to fave paper, confufe every thing. Your mind is honeft, but your memory a knave; and therefore the Scotch mean the fame thing by minding, that we do by remembering. Sirrah, faid I to a Scotch footman, why did you not go

that