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مهستیم بیمه شحنه بعد سحبه مهریه همسود د د د ودم. به
به مکالمه ؟ -
او
UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
QURISHMUAN ANTA
CIRCUMFIL
1837
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SCIENTIM
VERITAS
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LIBRARY
OF THE
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Im Voy.
.
1
LUCIUS.LT
HUBBARD
HOUGHTON
MICHIGAN
VOLUME VIII.
.
OF THE
AUTHOR'S WORKS,
CONTAINING
Directions to Servants;
A N D
Other Pieces in Prose and VERSE,
publiſhed in his Life-time with ſeveral
Poems, Letters, and other Pieces never be-
fore printed.
;
1
1
DU B L I N:
Printed by and for George FAULKNEP,
M.DCC.XLVI,
ADVERTISEMENT
To the London Édition.
IT
1
T may perhaps be objected againſt
ſome of the Letters, which will be
found in this Volume, that they are too
trifling, and were never intended, by the
Author, for the Eye of the Publick: But
as it was thought it would be an agree-
able Entertainment to the Curious, to
ſee how oddly a Man of his great Wit
and Humour could now and then de-
ſcend to amuſe himſelf with his parti-
cular Friends, it is hoped this will apo-
logize for the Publication of them,
Rea.
409742
wa
Vreme
tar
aul
SOIT
INOH
PES
isso tudi
11.2014,
Indulilitistilik
IND
DEO
ܘܕܘ
ma
44 ET
Philip kenmw wculpt
TO HIS
EXCELLENCY
Philip-DORMER STANHOPE,
Earl of CHESTERFIELD,
Baron Stanhope of Shelford, one of the
Lords of His Majeſty's Moſt Honou-
rable Privy Council, Knight of the
Moſt Noble Order of the Garter,
Ambaſſador Extraordinary and Ple-
nipotentiary to the States General of
the United Provinces, Lord Lieute-
nant General, and General Governor
of the Kingdom of Ireland.
My Lord,
Beg Leave to preſent to your Excel-
lency this Volume of the Works of Dr.
SWIFT,
I
DE DICATION.
Swift, who was one of the greateſt Patri-
ots and Genius's, and moſt correct Writer
of this or any other Age; and to whom
no Perſon living bears a greater Reſem-
blance than the Earl of CHESTERFIELD,
who hath already, by the like Virtues
and ſuperior Qualifications of Mind,
diſtinguiſhed himſelf
, as the trueft
Friend and Benefactor this Nation ever
had, by the Care he hath taken of this
Country, by preſerving it in a profound
State of Peace, when all Europe, and
particularly, his Majeſty's Kingdom of
Great Britain, hath been embroiled in
bloody and inteſtine Civil Wars, to the
Ruin of Trade and Credit, and the
Devaſtation of whole Countries
This Nation is likewiſe indebted to
your moſt excellent Counteſs, for the
Noble Example, and unparallelled Good-
neſs of her Ladyſhip, in wearing and
recommending the Uſe of Iriſh Manu-
factures to the Ladies of this King-
dom, at a Time, when Trade was at a
Stand, and the poor Tradeſmen ſtarving
for want of Employment: This is a
Work
D E DI CAT I O N.
Work, which although our great Au-
thor had very much at Heart, he never
could accompliſh, but hath been left to
be perfected by the Counteſs of Ches-
TERFIELD, whoſe Generoſity hath re-
vived our Trade, and ſet Numbers of
idle Hands to Work.
Theſe, and your many other Virtues,
will for ever endear you both to this
Country, as it hath done to all others
that have had the Happineſs of your
Excellency's Reſidence among them ;
and the Name of Lord ChesterFIELD
will be mentioned by the People of Ire-
land to lateſt Poſterity, as the wiſeſt
Governor, and the beſt Friend this
Nation was ever bleſſed with.
1 ат,
My Lord,
Your Excellency's Mof Dutiful,
Moſt Obedient, and
Moſt Humble Servant,
Dublin, Jan.
27, 1745
GEORGE FAULKNER.
The PREFACE
BY THE
DUBLIN BOOKSELLER.
I
I would have been needleſs to have added any
Thing to the foregoing Advertiſement taken
from the London Edition of a great Part
of this Volume, had the Author ſeen this, as he
did the Collection of Letters printed at London
in 1740; many of which were of the moſt pri-
vate Nature, and were made publick without his
Knowledge or Conſent : However, as ſoon as that
Book reached his Hands, (which was ſent by an
unknown Perſon at Bath) he was pleaſed to be-
flow it on his Bookſeller in Dublin, ſince it bad
paſed through the Preſs in England; and as the
Printer who could firſt obtain it here, would have
had the ſame Right to it with any
other Perfon.
Other Letters and Papers being publiſhed in
the ſame clandeſtine Manner in London, under
the Author's Name, which had been found in the
Cloſet of one of his Acquaintance after his Death,
we have taken the Liberty to colleEt ſuch as ap-
pear to have been written by him : And, how-
ever unworthy ſome Pieces are of that wonder-
ful Genius, we zinture to give them to the
World
The PRE FACE.
World as an additional Volume of his Works,
merely to prevent any Spurious and imperfe&t Book
from being publiſhed here by ſome other Perſon
under that Title.
The Reader however will find in this Edition
ſeveral Amendments and Additions to the London
Copy, which it may be thought neceſary to give
fome Account of. The Verſes that the Author
wrote on his own Death, with ſome other Pieces
not unworthy of his Pen, which he never dif-
owned, are inſerted in this Volume; becauſe we
know them to have been written by him, although
be gave no Directions for publiſhing them in the
former Volumes of his Works. The Directions to
Servants be ordered to be publiſhed before his laſt
Illneſs, in the Way of a Pamphlet : This, with
ſeveral original Poems he gave the Printer in his
Life Time. At the Requeſt of many Gentlemer
of Taſte and Learning, we would gladly oblige
the Publick with ſuch of his Writings as we
coull poſibly procure; except a few ſatyrical Pieces
on particular Perſons; who, notwithſtanding they
had highly provoked him, yet were pardoned by
him afterwards : And the Author laid repeated
Commands on bis Printer, never to publiſh ſuch
Pieces of private Refentment. There are a few
Letters, and alſo ſome hiſtorical Notes added to
this Edition ; the Printer bereof having enquired
for ſuch Things among the Author's Friends, in
Order to give Light into ſome Letters to Dr.
S-n, which ſeem naturally to raiſe the Curioſity
of impertinent People, or elſe being ſuch Matters
as
The PREFACE.
as are fit to vindicate, in fome Sort, the Reputa-
tion of that excellent Man; whoſe Breaſt was as
much inflamed with the fincereſt Zeal for the Pro-
teſtant Settlement on the Throne of theſe King-
doms, and the Love of the Publick Good in all
other Reſpects, as the Heart of any Man ever
was. His unwearied Application to his Courtry's
Service, and the Intereſt of that national Church
(of which he was an Ornament, and a fincere
Member) will appear in a good Meaſure from
ſeveral Pieces in the enſuing Volume, as well as
from the Subſtance of his laſt Will.
The Publick may reſt aſſured, that all Things
which can poſſibly be got towards compleating
Dr. Swift's Works, are in the following Sheets,
except the Hiſtory of the Peace of Utrecht; which
is
very
much wiſhed for, as it was written during
the Tranſaction of that important Affair, and
hath been, as we hear, ſeveral Years ago ſent by
the Author to be publiſhed in England.
We mall ſay no more concerning this Volume,
than what the Author himſelf hath obſerved in
Conjunction with Mr. Pope, in the following
Pages, about incorrect and private Papers pub-
liſhed without an Author's Permiſſion; of which
Crime the Printer hereof humbly hopes the candid
Part of the World will judge him innocent. Тbe
Words are taken from a Preface to that Collektion
of Miſcellanies publiſhed in London by Ben.
Motte, 1727, and hgned
JONATHAN SWIFT.
ALEXANDER POPE.
Having
C
The PREFACE.
C
Having both of us been extreamly ill treat-
' ed by ſome Bookſellers, (eſpecially one Ed-
mund Curll), it was our Opinion, that the beſt
• Method we could take for juſtifying our-
ſelves, would be to publiſh whatever looſe
Papers in Proſe and Verſe, we have formerly
written; not only ſuch as have already ſtolen
into the World (very much to our Regret,
and perhaps very little to our Credit), but
' ſuch as in any Probability hereafter may run
" the ſame Fate, having been obtained from us
by the Importunity, and divulged by the In-
diſcretion of Friends, although reſtrained by
Promiſes, which few of them are ever
known to obſerve, and often think they make
us a Compliment in breaking.
We are aſhamed to find ſo ill a Taſte
pre-
: vail, as to make it a neceſſary Work to do
• this Juſtice to our ſelves. It is very poſſible for
any
Author to write below himſelf: either
• his Subject not proving ſo fruitful, or ſo fitted
' for him, as he at firſt imagined; or his
Health, or his Humour, or the preſent Dir-
poſition of his Mind, unqualifying him at
that Juncture: However, if he poſſeſſed any
diſtinguiſhing Marks of Style, or Peculiarity
• of Thinking, there would remain in his leaſt
' ſucceſsful Writings, ſome few Tokens, where-
by Perſons of Taſte might diſcover him.
< But ſince it hath otherwiſe fallen out, we
' think we have fufficiently paid for our Want
of Prudence, and determine for the future to
C
o be
The PREFACE.
(
<
be leſs communicative: Or, rather, having
. done with ſuch Amuſements, we are reſolved
to give up what we cannot fairly diſown,
to the Severity of Criticks, the Malice of
perſonal Enemies, and the Indulgence of
• Friends.
'We cannot deny (and perhaps moſt Wri-
ters of our Kind have been in the fame Cir-
cumſtances) that in ſeveral Parts of our Lives,
and according to the Diſpoſitions we were
in, we have written fome Things which we
may wiſh never to have thought on. Some
• Sallies of Levity ought to be imputed to
• Youth, (ſuppoſed in Charity, as it was in
Truth, to be the Time in which we wrote
them ;) Others to the Gaiety of our Minds
at certain Junctures, common to all Men.
* The publiſhing of theſe which we cannot
quite diſown, and without our Conſent, is I
think, a greater Injury, than that of aſcribe-
ing to us the moſt ſtupid Productions which
we can wholely deny.
· This hath been uſually practiſed in other
Countries, after a Man's Deceaſe; which in
a great Meaſure accounts for that manifeſt In-
equality found in the Works of the beſt Au-
thors; the Collectors only conſidering, that
' ſo many more Sheets raiſe the Price of the
Book; and the greater Fame a Writer is
in Poffefſion of, the more of ſuch Traſh he
may bear to have tacked to him. Thus it is
apparently the Editor's Intereſt to inſert,
« what
C
C
0
The PREFACE.
what the Author's Judgment had rejected;
• and Care is always taken to interſperſe theſe
• Additions in ſuch a Manner, that ſcarce any
* Book of Conſequence can be bought, with-
out purchaſing ſomething unworthy of the
• Author along with it.
' But in our own Country it is ſtill worfe :
• Thoſe very Bookſellers who have ſupported
themſelves upon an Author's Fame while he
lived, have done their utmoſt after his Death to
« leſſen it by ſuch Practices: Even a Man's laſt
· Will is not ſecure from being expoſed in
Print; whereby his moſt particular Regards,
• and even his dying Tenderneſſes are laid open.
It hath been humourouſly faid, that ſome
have fiſhed the very Jakes, for Papers left
there by Men of Wit : But it is no Jeſt to
affirm, that the Cabinets of the Sick, and
the Cloſets of the Dead, have been broke
open and ranſacked, to publiſh our private
Letters, and divulge to all Mankind the moſt
( ſecret Sentiments and Intercourſes of Friend.
ſhip.
• We are therefore compelled, in reſpect to
Truth, to ſubmit to a very great Hardſhip;
to own ſuch Pieces as in our ſtricter Judge-
ment we would have ſuppreſſed for ever :
We are obliged to confeſs, that this whole
· Collection, in a Manner, conſiſts of what
' we not only thought unlikely to reach the
future, but unworthy even of the preſent
Age;
The PREFACE.
C
Age; not our Studies, but our Follies; not
our Works, but our Idleneſſes.
• Some Comfort however it is, that all of
them are Innocent, and moſt of them, ſlight
as they are, had yet a mòral Tendency; ei-
• ther to ſoften the Virulence of Parties againſt
each other, or to laugh out of Countenance
' ſome Vice or Folly of the Time; or to diſ-
credit the Impoſitions of Quacks and falſe
· Pretenders to Science; or to humble the Ar-
rogance of the ill-natured and envious: In
a Word, to leſſen the Vanity, and promote
e the good Humour of Mankind.
C
1
Dublin, Jan, 27, 1745.
Juſt publiſhed by George Faulkner, Printer
Hereof,
In Seven Volumes Folio.
(Price Bound Eight Guineas,)
The
UNIVERSAL HISTORY,
From the earlieſt Account of Time to the pre-
ſent; adorned with Cutts, Mapps, &c. Chro-
nological Tables, an Index to each Volume,
and a compleat general one to the Whole.
Alſo, juſt publiſhed,
In Twenty Volumes Octavo,
(Price Five Pounds Ten Shillings Bound,)
The ſaid
UNIVERSAL HISTORY,
With Cutts, Mapps, &c. Chronological Ta-
bles and Indexes.
Τ Η Ε
CO N T E N T S.
D
I
46
OCTOR Swift's Will
Page i.
Rules that concern all Servants in general I
CHAP. I.
Directions to the Butler
CHAP. II.
DireEtions to the Cook
17
CHAP. III.
DireEtions to the Footman
26
CHAP. IV.
DireEtions to the Coachman
44
CHAP. V.
Directions to the Groom
C H A P. VI.
Directions to the Houſe-Steward and Land-Steward 54
CHAP. VII.
DireEtions to the Porter
55
CHAP. VIII.
DireEtions to the Chamber-maid
ibid.
CHAP. IX.
Directions to the Waiting-maid
62
CHAP. X.
Directions to the Houſe-maid
68
C H A P. XI.
Dire&tions to the Dairy-maid
· 73
CHAP. XII.
Direftions to the Childrens-maid
73
CHAP.
7
The CONTENTS.
78
IOI
117
123
CHAP. XIII.
DireEtions to the Nurſe
74
CH A P. XIV.
Direktions to the Laundrejs
77
CHAP. XV.
Dire&tions to the Houſe-keeper
CHAP. XVI.
Directions to the Tutoreſs or Governeſs
ibid.
Reaſons humbly offered to the Parliament of Ire-
land, for repealing the Sacramental Teft, in 83
Favour of the Catholicks, &c.
Some Reaſons againſt the Bill for ſettling the
Tythe of Hemp, Flax, &c. by a Modus
Some further Reaſons againſt the Bill for ſettling
the Tythe of Hemp, Flax, &c.
The Beaſts Confeſſion to the Prieſt
The Life and genuine Chara&ter of the Rev. Dr.?
S----t, D. S. P. D. written by himſelf
137
Verſes on the Death of Dr. Swift, D. S. P.D.
written by himſelf
151
Advertiſement for the Honour of the Kingdom
177
of Ireland
Part of the 9th Ode of the 4th Book of Horace,
179
addreſſed to Dr. King, Archbiſhop of Dublin
A modeft Defence of a Poem called the Lady's
181
Dreſſing-Room
A French Epigram, and the Tranſlation 189
Verſes made for Women, who cry Apples, &c. 190, to
192
Verſes to Love
193
Lines upon a Glafs of Sir Arthur Acheſon's,
with the Anſwer
194
The Elephant, a Poem
195
Advice to the Freemen of Dublin; in the Choice
196
of a Member to repreſent them in Parliament
Sermon 1. On Mutual Subjektion
207
Sermon II. On the Teſtimony of Conſcience
Serm 282
s}
:
223
The CON TEN TS.
294
308
Sermon III. On the Trinity
237
Sermon IV. On the Dificulty of Knowing One's-Self 253
The Duty of Servants at Inns
277
Bons Mots de Stella
282
Thoughts on various Subjets
285
The Story of the Injured Lady; an Allegory
An Anſwer to the Injured Lady
304
Conſiderations offered to the Right Hon. the
Lord Mayor, &c. of the City of Dublin,
in the Choice of a Recorder
An Epitaph on Frederick Duke of Schomberg 311
A Ballad on the Game of Traffick
312
Verſes ſaid to be written on the Union
314
Will Wood's Petition to the People of Ireland
315
An Epigram on Wood's Braſs Money
317
on the D---e of C-
318
on Scolding
ibid.
Catullus de Lelbia
319
Motto on Mr. Jaſon Hafſard's Sign
320
The Author's Manner of Living
ibid.
Verſes cut on a Pane of Glaſs
321
On another Window
322
To a Lady who defired the Author to write
323
Verſes on ber in the Heroic Style
A Love Poem from a Phyſician to his Miſtreſs 334
On a Printer's being ſent to Newgate
335
Upon ſtealing a Crown while the Dean was aſleep 336
The Dean's Anſwer
337
On the little Houſe by the Church of Caſtle
knock, near Dublin
Riddles
from 341 to 351
To DoEtor Sheridan
ibid.
A Rebus written by a Lady
353
The Anſwer
354
A Letter from Dr. Swift to Archbiſhop King
The Archbiſhop to Dr. Swift
The
}
Ele}
} 338
356
360
The CONTENT S.
The Lord Primate and Archbiſhop of Dublin to?
Dr. Swift, about the Tax on Firſt-Fruits
361
The Archbiſhop of Dublin to Dr. Swift
362
The ſame to the ſame
364
Dr. Swift to the Archbiſhop of Dublin
366
to Lord Carteret
369
bis Anſwer to Lord Palmerſton's Letter 373
to Mrs. Moore
377
From Mr. Pope to Dr. Sheridan
380
to Dr. Sheridan
382
Letters from Dr. Swift to Dr. Sheridan from 384
to 424
Prayers for a ſick Perſon, during her Ilineſs 425
Letters to Dr. Sheridan
from 429 to 453
To Dr. Helſham
453
TO Dr. Sheridan
455 to 458
A Love Song
460
An Epigrani
ibid,
A whimſical Conſultation of four Phyſicians
ibid.
upon e Lord that was dying
A humourous Letter to Dr. Sheridan on a Lite-
ralia Scheme of Writing
463
A Letter to your Miſtreſs
465
Another Letter in the Literalia Style
ibid.
Verſes on Dr. Swift's Deafneſs
466
Cantata ſet to Mufick
467
1
[1]
DR. SWIFT'S
W 1 L L.
.
N the Name of GOD, Amen. I JONATHAN
SWIFT, Doctor in Diviriity, and Dean of
the Cathedral Church of St. Patrick,
Dublin, being at this Preſent of found
Mind, although weak in Body, do here make
my
laſt Will and Teſtament, hereby revoking
all my former Wills.
imprimis : I bequeath my Soul to ĠOD, (in
humble Hopes of his Mercy through JESUS
CHRIST) and my Body to the Earth. Ard, I
defire that my Body may be buried in the great
Iſle of the ſaid Cathedral, on the South Side,
under the Pillar next to the Monument of Pri-
mate Narciſus Marſha, three Days after my
Deceaſe, as privately as pofſible, and at Twelve
o'Clock at Night : And, that a Black Marble
of
Feet ſquare, and ſeven Feet from
the Ground, fixed to the Wall, may be erected,
with the following Inſcription in large Letters,
Vol. VIII.
B
deeply
2
.
Dr. SWIFT's Will.
deeply cut, and ſtrongly gilded. HIC DE-
POSITUM EST CORPUS JONATHAN
SWIFT, S. T. D. HUJUS ECCLESIÆ
CATHEDRALIS DECANI, UBI SÆVA
INDIGNATIO ULTERIUS COR LACE-
RARE NEQUIT. ABI VIATOR, ET
IMITARE,' SI POTERIS, STRENUUM
PRO VIRILI LIBERTATIS VINDICA:
TOREM. OBIIT ANNO (1745) MENSIS
(OCTOBRIS) DIE (19) ÆTATIS ANNO
(78).
Item: I give and bequeath to my Executors
all my worldly Subſtance, of what Nature or
Kind foever (excepting ſuch Part thereof as is
herein after particularly deviſed) for the follow-
ing Uſes and Purpoſes, that is to fay, to the
Intent that they, or the Survivors or Survivor
of them, their Executors, or Adminiſtrators, as
ſoon as conveniently may be after my Death,
ſhall turn it all into ready Money, and lay out
the fame in purchaſing Lands of Inheritance in
Fee-ſimple, ſituate in any Province of Ireland,
except Connaught, but as near to the City of
Dublin, as conveniently can be found, and not
incumbered with, or ſubject to any Leaſes for
Lives renewable, or any Terms for Years longer
than Thirty-one : And I deſire that a yearly
Annuity of Twenty Pounds Sterling, out of
the annual Profits of ſuch Lands when pur-
chaſed, and out of the yearly Income of my
ſaid Fortune, deviſed to my Executors as afore-
ſaid, until ſuch Purchaſe ſhall be made, ſhall
be
Dr. SWIFT's WILL.
3
be paid to Rebecca Dingley of the City of Dub-
lin, Spinſter, during her Life, by two equal
half-yearly Payments, on the Feaſts of All-
Saints, and St. Philip and St. Jacob, the firſt
Payment to be made on ſuch of the ſaid Feafts
as ſhall happen next after my Death. And
that the Reſidue of the yearly Profits of the
ſaid Lands when purchaſed, and until ſuch
Purchaſe be made, the Reſidue of the yearly
Income and Intereſt of my ſaid Fortune deviſed
as aforeſaid to my Executors, ſhall be laid out
in purchaſing a piece of Land, ſituate near
Dr. Stevens's Hoſpital, or if it cannot be there
had, ſomewhere in or near the City of Dublin,
large enough for the Purpoſes herein after men-
tioned, and in building thereon an Hoſpital
large enough for the Reception of as many
Idiots and Lunaticks as the annual Income of
the ſaid Lands and worldly Subſtance ſhall be
ſufficient to maintain : And, I deſire that the
ſaid Hoſpital may be called St. Patrick's Hof-
pital, and may be built in ſuch a manner, that
another Building may be added unto it, in caſe
the Endowment thereof ſhould be enlarged; ſo
that the additional Building may make the
whole Edifice regular and compleat. And my
further Will and Deſire is, that when the ſaid
Hoſpital ſhall be built, the whole yearly In-
come of the ſaid Lands and Eſtate, ſhall, for
ever after, be laid out in providing Victuals,
Cloathing, Medicines, Attendance, and all other
Neceſſaries for ſuch Idiots and Lunaticks, as
Thall be received into the fame; and in repair-
ing
B 2
4
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL.
ing and enlarging the Building, from Time to
Time, as there may be Occaſion. And, if
a ſufficient Nuinber of Idiots and Lunaticks
cannot readily be found, I deſire that Incurables
may be taken into the ſaid Hoſpital to ſupply
ſuch Deficiency: But that no Perſon ſhall be
admitted into it, that laboureth under
any
ins
fectious Diſeaſe: And that all ſuch Idiots, Lu-
naticks and Incurables, as ſhall be received into
the ſaid Hoſpital, ſhall conſtantly live and reſide
therein, as well in the Night as in the Day; and
that the Salaries of Agents, Receivers, Officers,
Servants, and Attendants, to be employed in
the Buſineſs of the ſaid Hoſpital, ſhall not in
the Whole exceed one Fifth Part of the clear
yearly Income, or Revenue thereof. Arid, I
further deflre that my Executors, the Survivors
or Survivor of them, or the Heirs of ſuch,
ſhall not häve Power to demiſe any part of the
ſaid Lands ſo to be purchaſed as aforeſaid, but
with Conſent of the Lord Primate, the Lord
High Chancellor, the Lord Archbiſhop of
Dublin, the Dean of Chriſt Church, the Dean
of St. Patrick's, the Phyſician to the State, and
the Surgeon-General, all for the Time being,
or the greater Part of them, under their Hands
in Writing ; and that no Leaſes of any part of
the ſaid Lands, ſhall ever be made other than
Leaſes for Years not exceeding Thirty-one, in
Poffeffion; and not in Reverſion or Remainder,
and not diſpuniſhable of Waſte, whereon ſhall
be reſerved the beſt and moſt improved Rents,
that can reaſonably and moderately, without
racking
Dr. SWIFT’S WILL.
5
racking the Tenants, be gotten for the ſame,
without Fine. Provided always, and it is my
Will and earneſt Deſire, that no Leaſe of any
Part of the ſaid Lands, ſo to be purchaſed as
aforeſaid, ſhall ever be made to, or in Truſt for
any Perſon any way concerned in the Execution
of this Truſt, or to, or in Truſt for any Perſon
any way related or allied, either by Confangui-
nity or Affinity, to any of the Perſons who
ſhall at that Time be concerned in the Execu-
tion of this Truſt : And, that if any Leaſes
jhall happen to be made contrary to my Inten-
tion above expreſſed, the ſame ſhall be utterly
void and of no Effect. And I further deſire,
until the Charter herein after mentioned be
obtained, my Executors, or the Survivors or
Survivor of them, his Heirs, Executors, or
Adminiſtrators, {hall not act in the Execution
of this Truſt, but with the Conſent and Appro-
bation of the ſaid ſeven additional Truſtees, or
the greater Part of them, under their Hands in
Writing, and ſhall, with ſuch Conſent and
Approbation as aforeſaid, havę Power, from
time to time, to make Rules, Orders, and Re-
gulations for the Government and Direction of
the faid Hoſpital. And, I make it my Requeſt
to my ſaid Executors, that they may in conve-
nient Time apply to his Majeſty for a Charter
to incorporate them, or ſuch of them as ſhall
be then living, and the ſaid additional Truſtees,
for the better Management and Conduct of this
Charity, with a Power to purchaſe Lands; and
to ſupply by Election ſuch Vacancies happen-
B 3
ing
6
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL.
ing in the Corporation, as ſhall not be ſupplied
by Succeſſion, and ſuch other Powers as may
be thought expedient for the due Execution of
this Truſt, according to my Intention herein
before expreſſed. And when ſuch Charter
ſhall be obtained, I deſire that my Executors,
or the Survivors or Survivor of them, or the
Heirs of ſuch Survivor, may convey to the Uſe
of ſuch Corporation in Fee-fimple for the Pur-
poſes aforeſaid, all ſuch Lands and Tenements,
as ſhall be purchaſed in manner above menti-
oned. Provided always, and it is my Will and
Intention, that my Executors, until the ſaid
Charter, and afterwards the Corporation to be
hereby incorporated, ſhall out of the yearly
Profits of the ſaid Lands when purchaſed, and
out of the yearly Income of my ſaid Fortune
deviſed to my Executors as aforeſaid, until ſuch
Purchaſe be made, have power to reimburſe
themſelves for all ſuch Sums of their own Mo-
ney, as they ſhall neceſſarily expend in the
Execution of this Truft. And that until the
ſaid Charter be obtained, all Acts which ſhall
at any Time be done in Execution of this Truſt
by the greater Part of my Exécutors then live-
ing, with the Conſent of the greater Part of the
faid additional Truſtees, under their Hands in
Writing, ſhall be as valid and effectual, as if
all my Executors had concurred in the fame.
Item: Whereas I purchaſed the Inheritance
of the Tythes of the Pariſh of Effernock near
Trim in the County of Meath, for Two Hun-
dred
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL.
7
i
dred and Sixty Pounds Sterling ; I bequeath the
faid Tythes to the Vicars of Laracor for the
Time being, that is to ſay, ſo long as the pre-
fent Epiſcopal Religion ſhall continue to be the
National Eſtabliſhed Faith and Profeſſion in this
Kingdom : But whenever any other Form of
Chriſtian Religion ſhall become the Eſtabliſhed
Faith in this Kingdom, I leave the ſaid Tythes
of Effernock to be beſtowed, as the Profits
come in, to the Poor of the ſaid Pariſh of La-
racar, by a weekly Proportion, and by ſuch
Officers as may then have the Power of diſtri-
buting Charities to the Poor of the ſaid Pariſh,
while Chriſtianity under any Shape ſhall be to-
lerated among us, ſtill excepting profeſſed Fews,
Atheiſts and Infidels,
&
Hem: Whereas I have ſome Leaſes of certain
Houſes in St. Kevin's-ſtreet, near the Deanry-
Houſe, built upon the Dean's Ground, and
one other Houſe now inhabited by Henry
Land, in Deanry-lane alias Mitre-alley, ſome of
which Leaſes are let for forty-one Years, or
forty at leaſt, and not yet half expired, I be-
queath to Mrs. Martha Whiteway my Leaſe
or Leaſes of the ſaid Houſes; I alſo bequeath
to the faid Martha, my Leaſe of forty Years of
Goodman's Holding, for which I receive Ten
Pounds per Annum ¿ which are two Houſes, or
more lately built; I bequeath alſo to the faid
Martha the Sum of Three Hundred Pounds
Sterling, to be paid her by my Executors out
of my ready Money, or Bank Bills, immedi-
ately
BA
8
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL.
ately after my Death, as ſoon as the Executors
meet. I leave, moreover, to the ſaid Martha,
my repeating Gold Watch, my yellow Tortoiſe
Shell Snuff Box, and her Choice of four Gold
Rings, out of ſeven which I now poſſeſs.
Item : I bequeath to Mrs. Mary Swift alias
Harriſon, Daughter of the ſaid Martha, my
plain Gold Watch made by Quare, to whom
alſo I give my Japan Writing Deſk, beſtowed
to me by my Lady Worſeley, my ſquare Tortoiſe
Shell Snuff Box, richly lined and inlaid with
Gold, given to me by the Right Honourable
Henrietta now Counteſs of Oxford, and the
Seal with a Pegaſus, given to me by the Coun-
teſs of Granville.
Item: I bequeath to Mr. Ffolliot Whiteway,
eldeſt Son of the aforeſaid Martha, who is bred
to be an Attorney, the Sum of Sixty Pounds,
as alſo Five Pounds to be laid out in the Pur.
chaſe of ſuch Law Books as the Honourable
Mr. Juſtice Lyndſay, Mr. Štannard, or Mr.
M-Aullay ſhall judge proper for him.
Item: I bequeath to Mr, John Whiteway,
youngeſt Son of the ſaid Martha, who is to be
brought up a Surgeon, the Sum of One Hun-
dred Pounds, in order to qualify him for a
Surgeon, but under the Direction of his Mo-
ther; which ſaid Sum of One Hundred Pounds
is to be paid to Mrs. Whiteway, in Behalf of her
faid Son Jobn, out of the Arrears which ſhall
be
Dr. SWIFT's Will:
1
be due to me from my Church Livings, (except
thoſe of the Deanry Tythes, which are now
let to the Reverend Doctor Wilſon) as ſoon as
the ſaid Arrears can be paid to my Executors,
I alſo leave the ſaid John Five Pounds to be
laid out in buying ſuch Phyſical or Chirurgical
Books as Doctor Grattan and Mr. Nichols
ſhall think fit for him,
Item: I bequeath to Mrs. Anne Ridgeway,
now in my Family, the Profits of the Leaſe of
two Houſés let to Yohn Cownty, for forty Years,
of which only eight or nine are expired, for
which the ſaid Cownly payeth me Nine Pounds
Sterling for Rent yearly. I alſo bequeath to
the faid Anne, the Sum of One Hundred
Pounds Sterling, to be paid her by my Execu-
tors in ſix Weeks after my Deceaſe, out of
whatever Money or Bank Bills I may poſſeſs
when I die: As alſo three Gold Rings, the Re-
mainder of the ſeven above mentioned, after
Mrs. Whiteway hath made her Choice of four;
and all my ſmall pieces of Plate, not exceed-
ing in Weight one Ounce and one third Part of
an Ounce.
Item: I bequeath to my deareſt Friend Alex-
ander Pope of Twittenham, Eſq; my Picture in
Miniature, drawn by Zinck, of Robert late
Earl of Oxford
Item: I leave to Edward now Earl of Oxford,
my Seal of Julius Cæſar, as alſo another Seal,
ſuppoſed
70
Dr, SWIFT'S WILL,
fuppoſed to be a young Hercules, both very
choice Antiques, and ſet in Gold: Both which
I chuſe to beſtow to the ſaid Earl, becauſe they
belonged to her late Moſt Excellent Majeſty
Queen Anne, of ever Glorious, Immortal, and
truely Pious Memory, the real Nurſing Mother
of all her Kingdoms.
Item: I leave to the Reverend Mr. James
Stopford, Vicar of Finglaſs, my Picture of
King Charles the Firſt, drawn by Vandike,
which was given to me by the ſaid James; as alſo
my large Picture of Birds, which was given to
me by Thomas Earl of Pembroke.
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Mr. Ror
bert Grattan, Prebendary of St. Audeon's, my
Gold Bottle Screw, which he gave me, and
my ſtrong Box, on Condition of his giving the
ſole Uſe of the ſaid Box to his Brother Dr. James
Grattan, during the Life of the ſaid Doctor,
who hath more Occaſion for it, and the ſecond
beſt Beaver Hat I ſhall die poſſeſſed of.
Item: I bequeath to Mr. John Grattan, Pre-
bendary of Clonmethan, my Silver Box in which
the Freedom of the City of Cork was preſented
to me; in which I deſire the ſaid John to keep
the Tobacco he uſually cheweth, called Pigtail.
Item : I bequeath all my Horſes and Mares
to the Reverend Mr. John Jackſon, Vicar of
Şantry,
Dr. SWIFT's WILL.
II
Santry, together with all my Horſe Furniture;
Lamenting that I had not Credit enough with
any Chief Governor (ſince the Change of
Times) to get ſome additional Church Prefer-
ment for ſo virtuous and worthy a Gentleman.
I alſo leave him my third beſt Beaver Hat.
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Doctor
Francis Wilſon, the Works of Plato in three
Folio Volumes, the Earl of Clarendon's Hiſtory
in three Folio Volumes, and my beſt Bible;
together with thirteen ſmall Perſian Pictures in
the Drawing Room, and the ſmall Silver Tan-
kard given to me by the Contribution of ſome
Friends, whoſe Names are engraved at the Bot-
tom of the ſaid Tankard.
>
Item : I bequeath to the Earl of Orrery the
enamelled Silver Plates to diſtinguiſh Bottles of
Wine by, given to me by his excellent Lady,
and the Half-length Picture of the late Coun-
teſs of Orkney in the Drawing Room.
5
Item: I bequeath to Alexander M-Aullay, Efq;
the Gold Box in which the Freedom of the City
of Dublin was preſented to me, as a Teſtimony
of the Eſteem and Love I have for him, on Ac-
count of his great Learning, fine natural Parts,
unaffected Piety and Benevolence, and his truly
honourable Zeal in Defence of the legal Rights
of the Clergy, in Oppoſition to all their unpro-
voked Oppreſſors.
Item :
12
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL,
Item: I bequeath to Deane Swift, Eſq; my
large Silver Standiſh, conſiſting of a large Sil-
ver Plate, an Ink Pot, a Sand Box and Bell of
the fame Mettal.
Item: I bequeath to Mrs. Mary Barber the
Medal of Queen Anne and Prince George, which
ſhe formerly gave me.
Item: I leave to the Reverend Mr. John
Worral my beſt Beaver Hat,
Item: I bequeath to the Reverend Doctor
Patrick Delany my Medal of Queen Anne in
Silver, and on the Reverſe the Biſhops of Engo
land kneeling before her Moſt Sacred Majeſty.
Item : Į bequeath to the Reverend Mr,
James King, Prebendary of Tipper, my large
gilded Medal of King Charles the Firſt, and on
the Reverſe a Crown of Martyrdom, with
other Devices. My Will, nevertheleſs, is, that
if any of the above named Legatees ſhould die
before me, that then, and in that caſe, the re-
spective Legacies to them bequeathed, ſhall re-
vert to myſelf, and become again ſubject to my
Diſpoſal.
Item: Whereas I have the Leaſe of a Field
in Truſt for me, commonly called the Vineyard,
let to the Reverend Doctor Francis Corbet, and
the Truſt declared by the ſaid Doctor; the ſaid
Field,
Dr. SWIFT'S WILL.
13
Field, with ſome Land on this Side of the
Road, making in all about three Acres, for
which I pay yearly to the Dean and Chapter of
St. Patrick's *
Whereas I have built a ſtrong Wall round
the ſaid Piece of Ground, eight or nine Feet
high, faced to the South Aſpect with Brick,
which coſt me above Six Hundred Pounds Ster-
ling : And likewiſe another Piece of Ground
as aforeſaid, of half an Acre, adjoining to the
Burial Place called the Cabbage-Garden, now
tenanted by William White, Gardener: My Will
is, that the Ground incloſed by the great Wall,
may be ſold for the Remainder of the Leafe,
at the higheſt Price my Executors can get for
it, in Belief and Hopes, that the ſaid Price
will exceed Three Hundred Pounds at the low-
eſt Value : For which my Succeſſor in the
Deanry ſhall have the firſt Refuſal : and it is
my earneſt Deſire, that the ſucceeding Deans
and Chapters may preſerve the ſaid Vineyard
and Piece of Land adjoining, where the ſaid
White now liveth, ſo as to be always in the
Hands of the ſucceeding Deans during their
Office, by each Dean leſſening One Fourth of
the Purchaſe Money to each ſucceeding Dean,
and for no more than the preſent Rent.
And I appoint the Honourable Robert Lynd.
ſay, one of the Judges of the Court of Com-
mon-Pleas : Henry Singleton, Eſq; Prime-Ser-
geant to his Majeſty : the Reverend Doctor
Patrick
14
Dr. ŚWIFT's WILL.
3
Patrick Delany, Chancellor of St. Patrick's
the Reverend Doctor Francis Wilſon, Preben-
dary of Kilmactolway; Eaton Stannard, Eſq;
Recorder of the City of Dublin ; the Reverend
Mr. Robert Grattan, Prebendary of St. Aude-
on's; the Reverend Mr. Fohr Grattan, Preben-
dary of Clonmethan; the Reverend Mr. James
Stopford, Vicar of Finglaſs; the Reverend Mr.
James King, Prebendary of Tipper; and Alex-
ander M'Aullay, Eſq; my Executors.
In Witneſs whereof, I have hereunto ſet my
Hand and Seal, and publiſhed and declared this
as my laſt Will and Teſtament, this third Day
of May, 1740 forty.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
Signed, ſealed, and publiſhed by
the above named JONATHAN
SWIFT, in Preſence of Us,
who have ſubſcribed our
Names in his preſence,
Jo. WYNNE,
Jo, ROCHFORT,
WILLIAM DUNKIN,
DIRECTIONS
"
DIRECTIONS
Τ Ο
SERVANTS.
By the Revd. Dr. SWIFT, D. S. P. D.
DUBLIN:
Printed by and for George FAULKNER,
M,DCCXLVI.
The Publiſher's Preface.
HE following Treatiſe of Directions
to Servants was began ſome Years
ago by the Author, who had not Leiſure
to finiſh and put it into proper Order,
being engaged in many other Works
of greater Uſe to his Country, as may be
Seen by moſt of his Writings. But, as
the Author's Deſign was to expoſe the
Villanies and Frauds of Servants to their
Maſters and Miſtreſſes, we ſhall make no
Apology for its Publication; but give it
our Readers in the ſame Manner as we
find it, in the Original, which
may
be
ſeen in the Printer's Cuſtody. The few
Tautologies that occur in the Charašters
left unfiniſhed, will make the Reader look
upon the Whole as a rough Draught with
ſeveral Outlines only drawn : However,
that there may appear no Daubing or
Patch-Work by other Hands, it is thought
moſt adviſeable to give it in the Author's
own Words.
1
I:
( ii )
It is imagined, that he intended to
make a large Volume of this Work; but
as Time and Health would not permit him,
the Reader may draw from what is here
exhibited, Means to detect the many Vices
and Faults, to which People in that Kind
of low Life are ſubject.
If Gentlemen would ſeriouſly conſider
this Work, which is written for their In-
ſtruktion, (altho’ ironically) it would make
them better O Economiſts, and preſerve
their Eſtates and Families from Ruin.
It may be ſeen by ſome ſcattered Papers
(whereinweregiven Hints for a Dedication
and Preface, and a Liſt of all Degrees of
Servants) that the Author intended to
have gone through all their Characters.
This is all that need be ſaid as to this
Treatiſe, which can only be looked upon
as a Fragment.
G. F.
Dublin, Noy. 8,
1745
*
1
1
:
[1]
RULES
THAT CONCERN
All SERVANTS in general.
WHEN your Maſter or Lady call
a Servant by Name, if that Ser-
vant be not in the Way, none of you
are to anſwer, for then there will be no
End of your Drudgery : And Maſters
themſelves allow, that if a Servant
cometh when he is called, it is ſufficient.
When
you have done a Fault, be al-
ways pert and inſolent, and behave
your ſelf as if you were the injured
Perſon; this will immediately put your
Maſter or Lady off their Mettle.
If your Maſter wronged by
any of your Fellow-fervants, be fure to
conceal it, for fear of being called a
Tell-tale : However, there is one Ex-
ception,
you fee
A 3
2
Rules that concern
ception, in caſe of a favourite Servant,
who is juſtly hated by the whole Fami-
ly ; you are therefore bound in Pru-
dence to lay all the Faults you can up-
on the Favourite.
The Cook, the Butler, the Groom,
the Market-man, and every other Ser-
vant, who is concerned in the Expences
of the Family, ſhould act as if his Ma-
ſter's whole Eſtate ought to be applied
to that Servant's particular Buſineſs.
For Inſtance, if the Cook computeth his
Maſter's Eſtate to be a thouſand Pounds
a Year; he reaſonably concludeth, that a
thouſand Pounds a Year will afford
Meat enough, and therefore, he need
not be ſparing; the Butler maketh the
ſame Judgment; ſo may the Groom and
the Coachman; and thus every Branch
of Expence will be filled to your Ma-
fter's Honour.
When you are chid before Company
,
(which, with Submiſſion to our Maſters
and Ladies, is an unmannerly Practice)
itoften happencth that ſomeStranger will
have the Good-nature to drop a Word
in
Au Servants in general.
3
in your
Excuſe; in ſuch a Caſe, you
will have a good Title to juſtify your
ſelf, and may rightly conclude, that
whenever he chideth you afterwards on
other Occaſions, he may be in the
wrong; in which Opinion you will be
the better confirmed by ſtating the Caſe
to your Fellow-ſervants in your own
Way, who will certainly decide in
your
Favour: Therefore, as I have ſaid be
fore, whenever you are chidden, com-
plain as if you were injured.
It often happeneth that Servants ſenton
Meſſages, are apt to ſtay out ſomewhat
longer than the Meſſage requireth, per-
haps, two, four, fix, or eight Hours, or
ſome ſuch Trifle, (for the Temptation
to be ſure was great, and Fleſh and
Blood cannot always refift:) When you
return, the Maſter ſtorms, the Lady
ſcolds; ſtripping, cudgelling, and turn-
ing off, is the Word: But here you
ought to be provided with a Set of Ex-
cuſes, enough to ſerve on all Occaſions :
For Inſtance, your Uncle came four-
ſcore Miles to Town this Morning, on
purpoſe
.
A 4
4
Rules that concern
4
purpoſe to ſee you, and goeth back by
Break of Day To-morrow : A Brother-
Servant, that borrowed Money of you
when he was out of Place, was running
away to Ireland : You were taking
Leave of an old Fellow-ſervant, who
was ſhipping for Barbados : Your Fa-
ther ſent a Cow to you to ſell, and you
could not get a Chapman till Nine at
Night: You were taking Leave of a
dear Couſin who is to be hanged next
Saturday: You wrencht your Foot
againſt a Stone, and were forced to ſtay
three Hours in a Shop, before you
ſtir a Step: Some Naſtineſs was thrown
on you out of a Garret Window, and
you were aſhamed to come Home be-
fore you were cleaned, and the Smell
went off: You were preſſed for the Sea-
ſervice, and carried before a Juſtice of
Peace, who kept you three Hours be-
fore he examined you, and you got off
with much a-do: A Bailiff by Miſtake
Seized you for a Debtor, and kept you
the whole Evening in a Spunging-houſe:
You were told your Maſter had gone
you could
to
All Servants in general. 5
to a Tavern, and came to ſome Mif-
chance, and
your
Grief was ſo great
that you inquired for his Honour in a
hundred Taverns between Pall-mall and
Temple-bar.
Take all Tradeſmens Parts againſt
your Maſter ; and when you are ſent to
buy any Thing, never offer to cheapen
it, but generouſly pay the full Demand.
This is highly to your Maſter's Honour;
and may be ſome Shillings in your
Pocket; and
you are to conſider, if
your Maſter hath paid too much, he
can better afford the Loſs than a poor
Tradeſman.
Never ſubmit to ſtir a Finger in any
Buſineſs but that for which you were
particularly hired. For example, it
the Groom be drunk or abſent, and the
Butler be ordered to ſhut the Stable
Door, the Anſwer is ready, An pleaſe
your Honour, I don't underſtand Horſes;
If a Corner of the Hanging wanteth a
ſingle Nail to faften it, and the Foot-
man be directed to tack it up, he may
ſay, He doth not underſtand that Sort
of
6
Rules that concern
.
of Work, but his Honour may ſend
for the Upholſterer.
Maſters and Ladies are uſually quar-
relling with the Servants for not ſhut-
ing the Doors after them: But neither
Maſters nor Ladies conſider, that thoſe
Doors muſt be open before they can be
ſhut, and that the Labour is double to
open and ſhut the Doors; therefore the
beft, and ſhorteſt, and eaſieſt Way is to
do neither. But if you are ſo often
teized to ſhut the Door, that you can-
not eaſily forget it; then give the Door
ſuch a Clap as you go out, as will
ſhake the whole Room, and make
every Thing rattle in it, to put your Ma-
ſter and Lady in Mind that you ob-
ſerve their Directions.
If find yourſelf to grow into
Favour with your Maſter or Lady, take
ſome Opportunity, in a very mild Way,
to give them Warning; and when they
aſk the Reaſon, and ſeem loth to part
withyou; anſwer, That you would rather
live with them, than any Body elſe,
but a poor Servant is not to be blamed
if
you find
All Servants in general.
your Maſter
if he ſtriveth to better himſelf; that
Service is no Inheritance, that your
Work is great, and your Wages very
ſmall: Upon which, if
hath any Generoſity, he will add five
or ten Shillings a Quarter rather than
let you go: But, if you are baulked,
and have no Mind to go off, get ſome
Fellow-fervant to tell your Mafter,
that he hath prevailed upon you to ſtay.
Whatever good Bits you can pilfer in
the Day, fave them to junket with your
Fellow-fervants at Night, and take in
the Butler, provided he will give you
Drink.
Write your own Name and your
Sweet-heart's with the Smoak of a
Candle on the Roof of the Kitchen,
or the Servants Hall, to fhew your
Learning.
If you are a young ſightly Fellow,
whenever you whiſper your Miſtreſs at
the Table, run your Noſe full in her
Cheek; or if your Breath be good,
breathe full in her Face; this I have
known
8
Rules that concern
known to have had very good Conſe-
quences in ſome Families.
Never come until you have been called
three or four Times; for none but
Dogs will come at the firſt Whiſtle;
And when the Maſter calls Who's
there?) no Servant is bound to come ;
for [Who's there is no Body's Name.
When you have broken all your
earthen Drinking Veſſels below Stairs
(which is uſually done in a Week) the
Copper Pot will do as well ; it can
boil Milk, heat Porridge, hold Small-
Beer, or in Caſe of Neceſſity ſerve for
à Jordan; therefore apply it indiffe-
rently to all theſe Uſes; but never waſh
or ſcour it, for Fear of taking off the
Tin.
Although you are allowed Knives
for the Servants Hall at Meals, yet you
ought to ſpare them, and make Uſe
your
Maſter's.
Let it be a conſtant Rule, that no
Chair, Stool or Table in the Servants
Hall, or the Kitchen, ſhall have above
three Legs; which hath been the an-
tient,
only of
All Servants in general. 9
;
tient, and conſtant Practice in all the
Families I ever knew, and is ſaid to
be founded upon two Reaſons ; firſt,
to ſhew that Servants are ever in a tot-
tering Condition ; fecondly, it was
thought a Part of Humility, that the
Servants. Chairs and Tables ſhould have
at leaſt one Leg fewer than thoſe of
their Maſters. I
grant
there hath been
an Exception to this Rule, with regard
to the Cook, who by old Cuſtom was
allowed an eaſy Chair to ſleep in after
Dinner;
and
yet
I have feldom feen
them with above three Legs. Now
this epidemical Lameneſs of Servants
Chairs is by Philoſophers imputed to
two Cauſes, which are obſerved to
make the greateſt Revolutions in States
and Empires : I mean, Love and War.
A Stool, a Chair, or a Table, is the
firſt Weapon taken up in a general
Romping or Skirmiſh and after a
Peace, the Chairs, if they be not very
ſtrong, are apt to ſuffer in the Conduct
of an Amour; the Cook being uſually
fat
IO
Rules that concern
fat.and heavy, and the Butler a little in
Drink.
I could never endure to fee Maid-
Servants ſo ungenteel as to walk the
Streets with their Pettycoats pinned up:
it is a fooliſh Excuſe to alledge, their
Pettycoats will be dirty, when they
have ſo eafy a Remedy as to walk three
or four Times down a clean Pair of
Stairs after they come home.
When you ſtop to tattle with ſome
crony Servant in the ſame Street, leave
your -
own Street-Door open, you
may get in without knocking, when
you come back; otherwiſe your Mi-
ſtreſs may know you are
know you are gone out, and
open, that
you may be chidden.
I do moſt earneſtly exhort you all
to Unanimity and Concord. But miſ-
take me not: You may quarrel with
each other as much as you pleaſe; only
bear in Mind that you have a common
Enemy, which is your Maſter and
Lady, and you have a common Cauſe
to defend.
Believe an old Practitioner;
whoever out of Malice to a Fellow-
ſervant,
&
All Servants in general.
II
ܪ
ſervant, carries a Tale to his Maſter,
ſhall be ruined by a general Confede-
racy againſt him.
The general Place of Rendezvous
for all the Servants, both in Winter and
Summer, is the Kitchen; there the
grand Affairs of the Family ought to
be conſulted ; whether they concern
the Stable, the Dairy, the Pantry, the
Laundry, the Cellar, the Nurſery, the
Dining-room, or my Lady's Chamber :
There, as in your own proper Element,
you can laugh, and ſquall
, and romp,
in full Security.
When any Servant cometh home
drunk, and cannot appear, you muſt
all join in telling your Maſter, that he
is
gone to Bed very fick; upon which
your Lady will be ſo good-natured, as
to order fome comfortable Thing for the
poor Man or Maid.
When your Maſter and Lady go
abroad together, to Dinner, or on a
Viſit for the Evening, you need leave
only one Servant in the Houſe; unleſs
you have a Black-guard-boy to anſwer
+
at
I 2
Rules that concern
1
at the Door, and attend the Children,
if there be any. Who is to ſtay at
home is to be determined by ſhort and
long Cuts, and the Stayer at home may
be comforted by a Viſit from a Sweet-
heart, without Danger of being caught
together. Theſe Opportunities muſt
never be miſſed, becauſe they come
but ſometimes; and you are always
ſafe enough while there is a Servant in
the Houſe.
When your Maſter or Lady cometh
home, and wanteth a Servant who hap-
peneth to be abroad; your Anſwer muſt
be, that he but juſt that Minute ſtept
out, being ſent for by a Couſin who
was dying.
If your Maſter calleth you by Name,
and you happen to anſwer at the fourth
Call, you need not hurry yourſelf; and
if
you
be chidden for ſtaying, you may
lawfully ſay, you came no ſooner, be-
cauſe you did not know what you were
called for.
When you are chidden for a Fault,
as you go out of the Room, and down
Stairs,
All Servants in general. 17
Stairs, mutter loud enough to be plain-
ly heard ; this will make him believe
you are innocent.
Whoever comes to viſit your Maſter
or Lady when they are abroad, never
burthen your Memory with the Perſons
Name, for indeed you have too many
other Things to remember. Beſides,
it is a Porter's Buſineſs, and your Mafa
ter's Fault he doth not keep one; and
who can remember Names ? and you
will certainly miſtake them ; and you
can neither write nor read.
If it be poſſible, never tell a Lye to
your Maſter or Lady, unleſs you
have
ſome Hopes that they cannot find it out
in leſs than half an Hour. When a
Servant is turned off, all his Faults muſt
be told, although noft of them were
never known by his Maſter or Lady ;
and all Miſchiefs done by others, charge
to him. [Inſtance them.] And when
any
of you, why you never ac-
quainted them before? The Anſwer is,
Sir,or Madam, really I was afraid it would
VOL. VIII. B
make
they aſk
18
Rules that concern
make you angry ; and beſides perhaps
you might think it was Malice in me.
Where there are little Maſters and
Miffes in a Houſe, they are uſually
great Impediments to the Diverſions of
the Servants; the only Remedy is to
bribe them with Goody Goodyes, that
they may not tell Tales to Papa and
Mamma.
I adviſe you of the Servants, whoſe
Maſter lives in the Country, and who
expect Vails, always to ſtand Rank and
File when a Stranger is taking his Leave;
ſo that he muſt of Neceſſity paſs be-
tween you ; and he muſt have more
Confidence, or leſs Money, than uſual,
you
let him eſcape, and, ac-
cording as he behaves himſelf, remem-
ber to treat him the next Time he comes.
are ſent with ready Money to
buy any Thing at a Shop, and happen
at that Time to be out of Pocket, fink
the Money and take up the Goods on
your Maſter's Account. This is for the
Honour of your Maſter and yourſelf ;
for
if any of
If you
All Servants in general. 19
1
for he becomes a Man of Credit at your
Recommendation.
When your Lady fends for you up to
her Chamber, to give you any Orders,
be ſure to ſtand at the Door, and keep it
open, fidling with theLock all the while
ſhe is talking to you, and keep the But-
ton in your Hand for fear you ſhould
forget to ſhut the Door after
you.
if your Maſter or Lady happen once
in their Lives to accuſe you wrongfully,
you are a happy Servant, for you hæve
nothing more todo, than for every Fault
you commit, while you are in their Ser-
vice, to put them in Mind of that falſe
Accuſation, and proteſt yourſelf equally
innocent in the preſent Caſe.
When
you
have a Mind to leave your
Maſter, and are too baſhful to break the
Matter for fear of offending him, the
beſt way is to grow rude and ſaucy of a
ſudden, and beyond your uſual Behavi-
our,until he finds it neceſſary to turn you
off; and when you are gone, to revenge
yourſelf, give him and his Lady ſuch a
Character to all your Brother-fervants
;
B
who
20
Rules that concerë
who are out of place, that none will
venture to offer their Service.
Some nice Ladies who are afraid of
catching Cold, having obſerved that the
Maids and Fellows below Stairs often
forget to ſhut the Door after them, as
they come in or go out into the back
Yards, have contrived that a Pulley
and Rope with a large Piece of Lead
at the End, ſhould be ſo fixt as to
make the Door ſhut of itſelf, and re-
quire a ſtrong Hand to open it; which
is an immenſe Toil to Servants, whoſe
Buſineſs may force them to
force them to go in and
out fifty Times in a Morning : But In-
genuity can do much, for prudent Ser-
vants have found out an effectual Reme-
dy againſt this inſupportable Grievance,
by tying up the Pully in ſuch a Manner,
that the Weight of the Lead ſhall have
no Effect; however, as to my own Party
I would rather chuſe to keep the Door
always open, by laying a heavy Stone at
the Bottom of it.
The Servants Candleſticks are gene-
rally broken, for nothing can laſt for
ever :
All Servants in general.
2 I
ever : But, you may find out many Ex-
pedients : You may conveniently ſtick
your Candle in a Bottle, or with a
Lump of Butter againſt the Wainſcot,
in a Powder-horn, or in an old Shoe,
or in a cleft Stick, or in the Barrel of
a Piſtol, or upon its own Greaſe on a
Table, in a Coffee Cup or a Drinking
Glaſs, a Horn Can, a Tea Pot, a twiſt-
ed Napkin, a Muſtard Pot, an Ink-
horn, a Marrowbone, a Piece of Dough,
a Bundle of Shavings, or you may çut a
Hole in the Loaf, and ſtick it there.
When you invite the neighbouring
Servants to junket with you at home in
an Evening, teach them a peculiar way
of tapping or ſcraping at the Kitchen
Window, which you may hear; but
not your Miaſter or Lady, whom you
muſt take Care not to diſturb or fright-
en at ſuch unſeaſonable Hours.
Lay all Faults on a Lap-dog, a favour-
ite Cat, a Monkey, a Parrot, a Magpye,
a Child, or on the Servant who was
laft turned off: By this Rule
you
will
excuſe yourſelf, do no Hurt to any
Bodi
B 3
22
Rules that concern
Body elſe, and ſave your Maſter or
Lady from the Trouble and Vexation
of chiding
When you want proper Inſtruments
for any Work you are about, uſe all
Expedients you can invent, rather than
leave your Work undone. For Inſtance,
if the Poker be out of the Way or bro-
ken, ſtir up the Fire with the Tongs;
if the Tongs be not at Hand, uſe the
Muzzle of the Bellows, the wrong End
of the Fire-Shovel, the Handle of the
Fire-Bruſh, the End of a Mop, or your
Maſter's Cane. If you want Paper to
ſinge a Fowl, tear the firſt Book you
ſee about the Houſe. Wipe your Shoes
for want of a Clout, with the Bottom
of a Curtain, or a Damaſk Napkin.
Strip your Livery Lace for Garters. If
the Butler wants a Jordan, he may uſe
the great Silver Cup.
There are ſeveral Ways of putting
out Candles, and you ought to be in-
ſtructed in them all: You may run the
Candle End againſt the Wainſcot,
the Snuff out immediately :
You
which puts
All Servants in general. 23
You may lay it on the Ground, and
tread the Snuff out with your Foot :
You may hold it upſide down until it is
choaked' with its own Greaſe; or cram
it into the Socket of the Candleſtick :
You may whirl it round in your Hand
till it goes out : When you go to Bed,
after you have made Water, you may
dip the Candle End into the Chamber-
Pot: You may ſpit on your Finger and
Thumb, and pinch the Snuff until it
goes out: The Cook may run the Can-
dle's Nofe into the Meal Tub, or the
Groom into a Vefſel of Oats, or a Lock
of Hay, or a Heap of Litter: The
Houſe-maid may put out her Candle by
running it againſt a Looking-glaſs,which
nothing cleans ſo well as Candle Snuff:
But the quickeſt and beſt of all Me-
thods, is to blow it out with your
Breath, which leaves the Candle clear
and readier to be lighted.
There is nothing fo pernicious in a
Family as a Tell-Tale, againſt whom
it muſt be the principal Buſineſs of you,
all to unite; Whatever Office he ſerveth
113
24
Rules that concern
!
in, take all Opportunities to ſpoil the
Buſineſs he is about, and to croſs him
in every Thing. For Inſtance, if the
Butler be the Tell-Tale, break his Glafl-
es whenever he leaves the Pantry Door
open ; or lock the Cat or the Maſtiff in
it, who will do as well : Miſlay a Fork
or a Spoon, ſo as he may never find it.
If it be the Cook, whenever ſhe turns
her Back, throw a Lump of Soot or a
Handful of Salt in the Pot, or ſmoak-
ing Coals into the Dripping-Pan, or
daub the roaſt Meat with the Back of
the Chimney, or hide the Key of the
Jack. If a Footman be ſuſpected, let
the Cook daub the Back of his new
Livery ; or when he is going up with
a Diſh of Soup, let her follow him ſoft-
ly with a Ladle-full, and drible it all
the Way up Stairs to the Dining-room,
and then let the Houſe-maid make ſuch
a Noiſe, that her Lady may hear it.
The Waiting-maid is very likely to be
guilty of this Fault, in hopes to ingra-
tiate herſelf. In this Caſe, the Laun-
dreſs muſt be ſure to tear her Smocks
$
(
in
All Servants in general 25
in the waſhing, and yet waſh them but
half; and, when ſhe complains, tell all
the Houſe that ſhe ſweateth ſo much,
and her Fleſh is ſo naſty, that ſhe fouleth
a Smock more in one Hour, than the
Kitchen-inaid doth in a Week.
DIRECTIONS
(i)
DIRECTIONS
ΤΟ
SERVANTS,
CH A P. I
Directions to the BUTLER,
IM
N my Directions to Servants, I find from
my long Obſervation, that you, Butler,
are the principal Perſon concerned.
Your Buſineſs being of the greateſt Variety,
and requiring the greateſt Exactneſs, I ſhall,
as well as I can recollect, run thro’ the ſeveral
Branches of your Office, and order my Inſtruct-
jons accordingly.
In waiting at the Side-board, take all polli-
ble Care to ſave your own Trouble, and your
Maſter's Drinking Glaſſes : Therefore, first,
fince thoſe who dine at the ſame Table are
ſuppoſed to be Friends, let them all drink out
of
Directions to
!
of the fame Glaſs without waſhing, which
will ſave you much Pains, as well as the Ha .
zard of breaking them; give no Perſon any
Liquor until he hath called for it thrice at leaſt;
by which means, fome out of Modeſty, and
others out of Forgetfulneſs, will call the fel-
domer, and thus your Maſter's Liquor be ſaved.
If any one deſireth a Glaſs of Bottled-Ale,
firſt ſhake the Bottle, to ſee whether any thing
be in it, then taſte it, to ſee what Liquor it is,
that you may not be miſtaken, and laſtly,
wipe the Mouth of the Bottle with the Palm
of your Hand, to thew your Cleanlineſs.
Be more careful to have the Cork in the
Belly of the Bottle than in the Mouth ; and, if
the Cork be muſty, or white Fryers in your
Liquor, your Mafter will ſave the more,
If an humble Companion, a Chaplain, a
Tutor, or a dependent Couſin happen to be at
Table, whom you find to be little regarded by
the Maſter, and the Company, (which no Body
is readier to diſcover and obſerve than we Ser-
vants) it muſt be the Buſineſs of
you
and the
Footman, to follow the Example of your Bet-
ters, by treating him many Degrees worſe than
any
of the reft ; and you cannot pleaſe your
Maſter better, or at least your Lady.
If any one calls for Small-beer towards the
end of Dinner, do not give yourſelf the Pains
of going down to the Cellar, but gather the
Droppings and Leavings out of the ſeveral Cups,
and Glaſſes, and Salvers into one; but turn
your
the BÚ T L E R.
3
ing from
your Back to the Company, for Fear of being
obſerved: On the contrary, when any one
calls for Ale towards the end of Dinner, fill
the largeſt Tankard-cup top-full
, by which
you will have the greateſt Part left to oblige
your Fellow-ſervants without the Sin of ſteal-
your
Maſter.
There is likewiſe a Perquiſite full as honeſt,
by which you have a Chance of getting every
Day the beſt Part of a Bottle of Wine for your
ſelf; for, you are to ſuppoſe that Gentlefolks
will not care for the Remainder of a Bottle;
therefore, always ſet a freſh one before them
after Dinner, although there hráth not been
above a Glaſs drank of the other.
Take ſpecial Care that your Bottles be not
muſty before you fill them; in order to which,
blow ſtrongly into the Mouth of
every
Bottle;
and then, if you ſmell nothing but your own
Breath, immediately fill it.
If you are ſent down in haſte to draw any
Drink, and find it will not run, do not be at
the Trouble of opening a Vent, but blow
ſtrongly into the Foffet, and you will find it
immediately pour into your Mouth; or take
out the Vent; but do not ſtay to put it in again,
for fear your Maſter ſhould want you.
If you are curious to tafte ſome of
your
Maſter's choice Bottles, empty as many of them
juſt below the Neck as will make the Quantity
you want; but then take Care to fill them up
again
4
Directions to
again with clean Water, that you may not
leffen your Maſter's Liquor.
There is an excellent Invention found out
of late Years in the Management of Ale and
Small-beer at the Side-board: For Inſtance, a
Gentleman calls for a Glaſs of Ale, and drinks
but half; another calls for Small-beer, you
immediately teem out the Remainder of the
Ale into the Tankard, and fill the Glaſs with
Small-beer, and ſo backwards and forwards as
long as Dinner laſts; by which you anſwer
three great Ends: Firſt, you ſave your ſelf
the Trouble of waſhing, and conſequently the
Danger of breaking your Glaſſes: Secondly,
you are ſure not to be miſtaken in giving
Gentlemen the Liquor they call for: And,
laſtly, hy this Method you are certain that
nothing is loſt.
Becauſe Butlers are apt to forget to bring up
their Ale and Beer Time enough, be ſure you
remember to have up yours two Hours before
Dinner; and place them in the funny Part of
the Room, to let People ſee that
you
have not
been negligent.
Some Butlers have a Way of decanting (as
they call it) bottled Ale, by which they loſe
a good Part of the Bottom: Let
be to turn the Bottle directly upſide down,
which will make the Liquor appear double the
Quantity; by this means, you will be ſure not
to loſe one Drop, and the Froth will conceal
the Muddineſs.
Clean
your Method
the B U T L E R
5
Clean your Plate, wipe your Knives, and
rub the dirty Tables, with the Napkins and
Table-cloths uſed that Day; for, it is but one
waſhing, and beſides it will ſave you wearing
out the coarſe Rubbers: and in Reward of
ſuch good Huſbandry, my Judgement is, that
you may lawfully make uſe of the fineſt Da-
maſk Napkins for Night-caps for yourſelf.
When you clean your Plate, leave the White-
ing plainly to be ſeen in all the Chinks, for
fear your Lady ſhould not believe you had
cleaned it,
There is nothing wherein the Skill of a Bụt-
ler more appears, than in the Management of
Candles, whereof, although ſome Part may
fall to the Share of the other Servants, yet you
being the principal Perſon concerned, I ſhall
direct my Inſtructions upon
this Article to you
only, leaving to your Fellow-Servants to apply
them upon Occaſion.
Firſt, to avoid burning Day-light, and to
ſave your Maſter's Candles, never bring them
up until Half an Hour after it be dark, altho
they are called for never ſo often.
Let your Sockets be full of Greaſe to the
Brim, with the old Snuff at the Top, and then
ſtick on your freſh Candles. It is true, this
may endanger their falling, but the Candles
will
appear ſo much the longer and handſomer
before Company. At other Times, for Variety,
put your Candles looſe in the Sockets, to thew
they are clean to the Bottom.
When
6
Directions to
When your Candle is too big for the Socket,
melt it to a right Size in the Fire ; and, to hide
the Smoke, wrap it in Paper half way up.
You cannot but obſerve of late Years the
great Extravagancy among the Gentry upon thé
Article of Candles, which a good Butler ought
by all means to diſcourage, both to ſave his own
Pains and his Maſter's Money: This may
be
contrived ſeveral Ways: As when you are or-
dered to put Candles into the Sconces.
Sconces are great Waſters of Candles, and
you, who are always to conſider the Advantage
of
your Maſter, ſhould do your utmoſt to diſ-
courage thém: Therefore, your Buſineſs muſt
be to preſs the Candle with both your Hands
into the Socket, ſo as to make it tean in ſuch
a mariner, that the Greaſe may drop all upon
the Floor, if ſome Lady's Head-drels or Gen-
tleman's Perriwig be not ready to intercept it:
You may likewiſe ftick the Candle ſo looſe
that it will fall upon the Glaſs of the Sconce,
and break it into Shatters; this will ſave your
Maſter many a fair Penny in the Year, both
in Candles, and to the Glaſs-man, and your-
felf much Labour, for the Sconces ſpoiled can-
not be uſed:
Never let the Candles burn too low, but
give them as a lawful Perquiſite to your Friend
the Cook, to increaſe her Kitchen-ſtuff; or if
this be not allowed in your Houſe, give them
in
the B U T L E R.
33
When you
in Charity to the poor Neighbours, who often
run on your Errands.
When you cut Bread for a Toaſt, do not
ſtand idly watching it, but lay it on the Coals,
and mind your other Buſineſs; then come
back, and if you find it toaſted quite through,
fcrape off the burned Side, and ſerve it up.
dreſs
up your Side-board, ſet the
beit Glaſſes as near the Edge of the Table as
you can; by which Means they will caſt a dou-
ble Luſtre, and make a much finer Figure;
and the Conſequence can be, at moſt, but the
breaking half a Dozen, which is a Trifle in
your Maſter's Pocket.
Waſh the Glaſſes with your own Water, to
fave your Maſter's Salt.
When any Salt is ſpilt on the Table, do not
let it be loft, but when Dinner is done, fold
up the Table-cloth, with the Salt in it, then
fhake the Salt out into the Salt-cellar, to ſerve
next Day : But the ſhorteſt and ſureſt Way is,
when you remove the Cloth, to wrap the
Knives, Forks, Spoons, Salt-cellars, broken
Bread, and Scraps of Meat, altogether in the
Table-cloth, by which you will be ſure to loſe
nothing, unleſs you think it better to ſhake
them out of the Window amongſt the Beggars,
that they may with more Convenience cat the
Scraps.
Leave the Dregs of Wine, Ale, and other
Liquors, in the Bottles : To rince them is but
Loſs of Time, ſince all will be done at once
VOL, VIII.
C
in
34
1
Dire&tions to
in a general waſhing; and you will have a bet-
ter Excuſe for breaking them.
If your Maſter hath any muſty, or very
foul and cruſted Bottles, I adviſe you in Point
of Conſcience, that thoſe may be the firſt you
truck at the next Ale-houſe for Ale or Brandy.
When a Meſſage is ſent to your Maſter, be
kind to your Brother-ſervant who brings it;
give him the beſt Liquor in your Keeping, for
your Maſter's Honour ; and with the firſt Op-
portunity he will do the ſame to you.
After Supper, if it be dark, carry your Plate
and China together in the ſame Baſket, to ſave
Candle-light; for you know your Pantry well
enoogh to put them up in the Dark.
When Company is expected at Dinner, or in
the Evenings, be ſure to be Abroad, that no-
thing may
nay be got which is under your Key, by
which your Maſter will ſave his Liquor, and
not wear out his Plate.
I come now to a moſt important part of
your Oeconomy, the Bottling of a Hogſhead
of Wine, wherein I recommend three Virtues,
Cleanlineſs, Frugality, and brotherly Love.
Let your Corks be of the longeſt Kind you
can get; which will ſave ſome Wine in the
Neck of every Bottle : As to your Bottles, chuſe
the ſmalleſt you can find, which will increaſe
the Number of Dozens, and pleaſe your
ſter; for a Bottle of Wine is always a Bottle of
Wine, whether it hold more or leſs; and if
your
your Ma.
1
the B U T L E R.
35
your Maſter hath his proper Number of Do-
zens, he cannot complain.
Every Bottle muſt be firſt rinced with Wine,
for fear of any Moiſture left in the Waſhing;
ſome out of miſtaken Thrift will rince a Do-
zen Bottles with the fame Wine ; but I would
adviſe you, for more Caution, to change the
Wine at every ſecond Bottle; a Jill may be
enough. Have Bottles ready by you to ſave it ;
and it will be a good Perquiſite, either to ſell
or drink with the Cook.
Never draw your Hogſhead too low ; non
tilt it for fear of diſturbing your Liquor. When
it begins to run ſlow, and before the Wine
grows cloudy, ſhake the Hogſhead, and carry
a Glaſs of it to your Maſter, who will praiſe
you for your Diſcretion, and give you all the
reft as a Perquiſite of
your Place : You
may
tilt the Hogſhead the next Day, and in a Fort-
night get a Dozen or two of good clear Wine,
to diſpoſe of as you pleaſe.
In bottling Wine, fill your Mouth full of
Corks, together with a large Plug of Tobacco,
which will give the Wine the true Taſte of
the Weed, ſo delightful to all good Judges in
drinking.
When you are ordered to decant a ſuſpicious
Bottle, if a Pint be out, give your Hand a
dextrous Shake, and thew it in a Glaſs, that it
begins to be muddy.
When a Hogſhead of Wine, or any other
Liquor, is to be bottled off, waſh your Bottles
C 2
immediately
36
Directions to
immediately before you begin ; but, be ſure not
to drain them, by which good Management
your
Maſter will ſave fome Gallons in every
Hogſhead.
This is the Time, that, in Honour to your
Maſter, you ought to thew your Kindneſs to
your Fellow-ſervants, and eſpecially to the
Cook; for what ſignifies a few Flaggons out of
a whole Hogſhead? But make them drunk in
your Preſence ; for fear they ſhould be given to
other Folks, and ſo your Maſter be wronged:
But, adviſe them, if they get drunk, to go to
Bed, and leave Word they are ſick, which laſt
Caution I would have all the Servants obſerve,
both Male and Female.
If your Maſter finds the Hogſhead to fall
ſhort of his Expectation, what is plainer, than
that the Veſſel leaked : That, the Wine-Cooper
had not filled it in proper Time: That the
Merchant cheated him with a Hogſhead below
the common Meaſure ?
When you are to get Water on for Tea af-
ter Dinner, (which in many Families is Part of
your Office) to ſave Firing, and to make more
Haſte, pour it into the Tea-kettle, from the Pot
where Cabbage or Fiſh have been boiling,
which will make it much wholſomer, by cure-
ing the acid and corroding Quality of the Tea.
Be ſaving of your Candles, and let thoſe in
the Sconces, the Hall, the Stairs, and in the
Lanthorn, burn down into the Sockets, until
they go out of themſelves; for which your Ma-
fter
the B U T L E R.
37
fțer and Lady will commend your Thriftineſs,
as ſoon as they ſhall ſmell the Snuff.
If a Gentleman leaveth a Snuff-box or Pick-
tooth-cafe on the Table after Dinner, and go-
eth away, look upon it as part
it as part of your Vails :
for ſo it is allowed by all Servants, and you do
no Wrong to your Maſter or Lady.
If you ſerve a Country 'Squire, when Gen-
tlemen and Ladies come to dine at your Houſe,
never fail to make their Servants drunk, and
eſpecially the Coachman, for the Honour of
your Maſter ; to which, in all your Actions,
you muſt have a ſpecial Regard ; as being the
beſt Judge: For the Honour of every Family
is depoſited in the Hands of the Cook, the
Butler, and the Groom, as I ſhall hereafter
demonſtrate.
Snuff the Candles at Supper as they ſtand on
the Table, which is much the ſecureſt Way;
becauſe, if the burning Snuff happens to get
out of the Snuffers, you have a chance that it
may fall into a Diſh of Soup, Sack-poffet, Rice-
milk, or the like; where it will be immediate-
ly extinguiſhed with very little Stink.
When you have ſnuffed the Candle, always
leave the Snuffers open, for the Snuff will of
itſelf burn away to Aſhes, and cannot fall
out and dirty the Table, when you ſnuff the
Candles again.
That the Salt may lie finooth in the Sale-
cellar, preſs it down with your moiſt Palm.
When
C 3
38
Dire&tions to
When a Gentleman is going away after dine-
ing with your Maſter, be ſure to ſtand full in
View, and follow him to the Door, and as you
have Opportunity look full in his Face, perhaps
it may bring you a Shilling; but, if the Gen-
tleman hath lain there a Night, get the Cook,
the Houſe-maid, the Stable-men, the Scullion,
and the Gardener, to accompany you, and to
ſtand in his Way to the Hall in a Line on each
Side him : If the Gentleman performeth hand-
fomely, it will do him Honour, and coſt
your
Maſter nothing
You need not wipe your Knife to cut Bread
for the Table, becauſe, in cutting a Slice or
two it will wipe itſelf.
Put your Finger into every Bottle, to feel
whether it be full, which is the ſureſt Way;
for Feeling hath no Fellow.
When you go down to the Celiar to draw
Ale or Small-beer, take care to obſerve directly
the following Method : Hold the Veſſel be-
tween the Finger and Thumb of your right
Hand, with the Palm upwards, then hold the
Candle between your Fingers; but a little lean-
ing towards the Mouth of the Vefſel, then
take out the Spiggot with your Left-hand, and
clap the Point of it in your Mouth, and keep
your Left-hand to watch Accidents, when the
Veffel is full withdraw the Spiggot from your
Mouth, well wetted with Spittle, which being of
a llimy Conſiſtence will make it ſtick faſter in
the Foffet: If any Tallow drops into the Vef-
fel
the B U T L E R.
39
ſel you may eaſily (if you think of it) remove
it with a Spoon, or rather with
your Finger.
Always lock up a Cat in the Cloſet where
you keep your China Plates, for fear the Mice
may ſteal in and break them.
A good Butler always breaks off the Point of
his Bottle-ſcrew in two Days, by trying which
is hardeſt, the Point of the Screw, or the
Neck of the Bottle : In this Cafe, to ſupply
the Want of a Screw, after the Stump hath
torn the Cork in Pieces, make uſe of a Silver
Fork, and when the Scraps of the Cork are
almoſt drawn out, flirt the Mouth of the Bot-
tle into the Ciſtern until you quite clear it.
If a Gentleman dineth often with your Ma-
ſter, and gives you nothing when he goes away,
you may uſe ſeveral Methods to ſhew him ſome
Marks of your Diſpleaſure, and quicken his
Memory: If he calls for Bread or Drink, you
may pretend not to hear, or ſend it to another
who called after him: If he aſketh for Wine,
let him ſtay awhile, and then ſend him Small-
beer ; give him always foul Glaſſes; ſend him
a Spoon when he wants a Knife; wink at the
Footman to leave him without a Plate : By
theſe, and the like Expedients, you may pro-
bably be a better Man by half a Crown be-
fore he leaves the Houſe, provided you watch
an Opportunity of ſtanding by when he is
going.
If your Lady loveth Play, your Fortune is
fixed for ever ; Moderate Gaming will be a
Perquiſite
40
DireEtions to
Perquiſite of ten Shillings a Week; and in ſuch
a Family I would rather chuſe to be Butler
than Chaplain, or even rather than be Stew-
ard: Ii is all ready Money, and
got without
Labour, unleſs your Lady happens to be one of
thoſe, who either obligeth you to find Wax-
Candles, or forceth you to divide it with ſome
favourite Servant; but at worſt, the old Cards
are your own; and, if the Gameſters play deep,
or grow peeviſh, they will change the Cards
ſo often, that the old ones will be a conſider-
able Advantage by ſelling to Coffee-Houſes,
or Families who love Play, but cannot afford
better than Cards at ſecond-hand: When
you
attend at the Service, be ſure to leave new
Packs within the Reach of the Gameſters,
which, thoſe who have ill Luck will readily
take to change their Fortune; and now and
then an old Pack mingled with the reſt will
eaſily paſs. Be ſure to be very officious on
Play-nights, and ready with your Candles to
light out your Company, and have Salvers of
Wine at Hand to give them when they call;
but manage fo with the Cook, that there be no
Supper, becauſe it will be ſo much ſaved in
your Maſter's Family, and, becauſe a Supper
will conſiderably leſſen your
Gains.
Next to Cards there is nothing ſo profitable
to you as Bottles, in which Perquiſite you have
no Competitors, except the Footmen, who are
apt to ſteal and vend them for Pots of Beer :
But you are bound to prevent any ſuch Abufes
in
the B U T L E R.
41
in your Maſter's Family: The Footmen are not
to anſwer for what are broken at a general
Bottling; and thoſe may be as many as your
Diſcretion will make them.
The Profit of Glaſſes is fo very inconfidera-
ble, that it is hardly worth mentioning: It
conſiſts only in a ſmall Preſent made by the
Glaſsman, and about four Shillings in the
Pound added to the Prices for your Trouble
and Skill in chuſing them. If
your
Maſter
hath a large Stock of Glaſſes, and you or your
Fellow-fervants happen to break any of them
without your Maſter's Knowledge, keep it a
Secret, until there are not enough left to ſerve the
Table, then tell your Maſter that the Glaſſes
are gone; this will be but one Vexation to him,
which is much better than fretting once or twice
a Week; and it is the Office of a good Servant
to diſcompoſe his Maſter and his Lady as ſel-
dom as he can; and here the Cat and Dag will
be of great Uſe to take the Blame from you.
Note, That Bottles miſſing are ſuppoſed to be
half ſtolen by Stragglers and other Servants,
and the other half broken hy Accident, and a
general Waſhing.
Whet the Backs of your Knives until they
are as ſharp as the Edge, which will have this
Advantage, that when Gentlemen find them
blunt on one side, they may try the other ;
and to thew you ſpare no Pains in Tharpening
the Knives, whet them ſo long, until you wear
out a good Part of the Iron, and even the Bot-
t011)
42
Directions to
tom of the Silver Handle. This doth Credit
to your Maſter, for it hews good Houſe-keep-
ing, and the Goldſmith may one Day make
you a Preſent,
Your Lady, when ſhe finds the Small-beer
or Ale dead, will blame you for not remem-
bering to put the Peg into the Vent-hole. This
is a great Miſtake, nothing being plainer, than
that the Peg keeps the Air in the Veſſel, which
fpoils the Drink, and therefore ought to be let
out; but if ſhe inſiſteth upon it, to prevent the
Trouble of pulling out the Vent, and putting
it in a Dozen Times a Day, which is not to
be born by a good Servant, leave the Spiggot
half out at Night, and you will find with only
the Loſs of two or three Quarts of Liquor,
the Veſſel will run freely.
When you prepare your Candles, wrap them
up in a piece of brown Paper, and ſo ſtick them
into the Socket: Let the Paper come half way
up the Candle, which looks handſome, if
any
Body ſhould come in.
Do all in the Dark to ſave your Maſter's
Candles.
CHAP ,
the CO O K.
43
CH A P. II.
Directions to the COOK.
A
Lthough I am not ignorant that it hath
been a long Time ſince the Cuſtom be-
gan among People of Quality to keep Men-
cooks, and generally of the French Nation;
yet becauſe my Treatiſe is chiefly calculated for
the general Run of Knights, Eſquires, and
Gentlemen both in Town and Country, I ſhall
therefore apply to you Mrs. Cook, as a Wo-
man: However, a great part of what I intend,
may ſerve for either Sex; and your Part natu-
rally follows the former, becauſe the Butler
and you are joined in Intereſt; your Vails are
generally equal, and paid when others are diſ-
appointed : You can junket together at Nights
upon your own Progg, when the reſt of the
Houſe are abed; and have it in your Power to
make every Fellow-ſervant your Friend; you
can give a good Bit or a good Sup to the little
Maiters and Miſſes, and gain their Affections :
A Quarrel between you is very dangerous to
you both, and will probably end in one of you
being turned off; in which fatal Caſe, perhaps,
it will not be ſo eaſy in ſome Time to cotton with
another.
44.
Directions to
another. And now, Mrs. Cook, I proceed to
give you my Inſtructions, which I delire
you
will get ſome Fellow-ſervant in the Family to
read to you conſtantly one Night in every
Week
when you are going to Bed, whether you ſerve
in Town or Country; for my Leifons ſhall be
fitted for both.
If your Lady forgets at Supper that there is
any cold Meat in the Houſe, do not you be ſo
officious as to put her in mind; it is plain ſhe
did not want it; and if the recollects it the
next Day, ſay, ſhe gave you no Orders, and it
is ſpent; therefore, for fear of telling a Lye,
diſpoſe of it with the Butler, or any other
Crony, before you go to Bed.
Never ſend up a Leg of a Fowl at Supper,
while there is a Cat or a Dog in the Houſe,
that can be accuſed of running away with it;
But, if there happen to be neither, you muſt
upon the Rats, or a ſtrange Greyhound,
It is ill Houſewifery to foul your Kitchen
Rubbers with wiping the Bottoms of the Diſhes
up, ſince the Table-cloth will do as
well, and is changed every Meal.
Never clean your Spits after they have been
uſed; for the Greaſe left upon them by Meat,
is the beſt Thing to preſerve them from Ruſt;
and when you make uſe of them again, the
fame Greaſe will keep the Inſide of the Meat
moiſt.
If
you
live in a rich Family, roaſting and
boiling are below the Dignity of your Office,
and
lay it
you fend
..
the COOK.
45
and which it becometh you to be ignorant of ;
therefore leave that Work wholly to the Kitch-
en Wench, for fear of diſgracing the Family
you live in.
If you are employed in Marketing, buy
your Meat as cheap as you can, but when you
bring in your Accounts, be tender of your
Maſter's Honour, and ſet down the higheſt
Rate; which beſides is but Juſtice, for no body
can afford to ſell at the ſame Rate that he buys,
and I am confident that you may charge fafe-
ly; ſwear that you gave no more than what
the Butcher and Poulterer aſked. If your
Lady orders you to ſet up a Piece of Meat for
Supper, you are not to underſtand, that you
inuft ſet it up all, therefore you may give half
to yourſelf and the Butler.
Good Cooks cannot abide what they juſtly
call fidling Work, where Abundance of Time
is ſpent and little done: Such, for Inſtance, is
the dreſſing ſmall Birds, requiring a world of
Cookery and Clutter, and a ſecond or third
Spit, which by the Way is abſolutely needleſs;
for it will be a very ridiculous Thing indeed,
if a Spit which is ſtrong enough to turn a Sir-
loyn of Beef, ſhould not be able to turn a
Lark; however, if your Lady be nice, and is a-
fraid that a large Spit will tear them, place them
handſomely in the Dripping-pan, where the Fat
of roaſted Mutton or Beef falling on the Birds,
will ſerve to baſte them, and ſo fave both
Time and Butter ; for what Cook of any Spirit
would
56
Directions to
would loſe her Time in picking Larks, Wheat-
ears, and other ſmall Birds; therefore, if
you
cannot get the Maids, or the young Miffes to
affift
you,
e'en make ſhort Work, and either
finge or flay them; there is no great Loſs in
the Skins, and the Fleſh is juſt the ſame.
If you are employed in Marketing, do not ac-
cept a Treat of a Beef-ſtake and Pot of Ale
from the Butcher, which I think in Conſcience
is no better than wronging your Maſter ; but
do you always take that Perquiſite in Money,
if you do not go in Truſt, or in Poundage
when you pay the Bills.
The Kitchen Bellows being uſually out of
Order, by ſtirring the Fire with the Muzzle
to ſave the Tongs and Poker, borrow the Bel-
lows out of your Lady's Bed-chamber, which
being leaſt uſed, are commonly the beſt in
the Houſe; and if you happen to damage or
greaſe them, you have a Chance to have them
left entirely for your own Uſe.
Let a Blackguard Boy be always about the
Houſe to ſend on your Errands, and go to
Market for you in rainy Days, which will ſave
your Cloaths, and make you appear more cre-
ditable to your Miſtreſs.
If your Miſtreſs alloweth you the Kitchen-
ſtuff, in return of her Generoſity, take care to
boil and roaſt your Meat ſufficient. If the
keeps it for her own Profit, do her Juſtice,
and rather than let a good Fire be wanting,
enliven
the COO K.
47
enliven it now and then with the Dripping and
the Butter that happens to turn to Oil.
Send up your Meat well ſtuck with Scewers,
to make it look round and plump; and an Iron
Skewer, rightly employed now and then, will
make it look handſomer,
When you roaſt a long Joint of Meat, be
careful only about the Middle, and leave the
two extreme Parts raw, which may ferve an-
other Time, and will alſo ſave Firing.
When you ſcour your Plates and Diſhes,
bend the Brim inward, ſo as to make them
hold the more.
Always keep a large Fire in the Kitchen
when there is a ſmall Dinner, or the Family
dines abroad, that the Neighbours ſeeing the
Smoak, may commend your Maſter's Houſe-
keeping : But, when niuch Company is invited,
then be as ſparing as poſſible of your Coals,
becauſe a great deal of the Meat being half
raw will be ſaved, and ſerve next Day.
Boil your Meat conſtantly in Pump Water,
becauſe
you may
ſometimes want River or Pipe
Water, and then your Miſtreſs obſerving your
Meat of a different Colour, will chide you
when you are not in Fault.
When you have plenty of Fowl in the Lar-
der, leave the Door open, in Pity to the poor
Cat, if ſhe be a good Mouſer.
If
you find it neceſſary to market in a wet
Day, take out your Miſtreſs's Riding-hood and
Cloak to ſave your Cloaths.
Get
48
Directions to
Get three or four Char-women to attend
you
conſtantly in the Kitchen, whom you pay at
ſmall Charges, only with the broken Meat, a
few Coals, and all the Cinders.
To keep troubleſome Servants out of the
Kitchen, always leave the Winder ſticking on
the Jack to fall on their Heads.
If a Lump of Soot falls into the Soup, and
you cannot conveniently get it out, ſtir it well,
and it will give the Soup a high French Taſte.
If you melt your Butter to Oil, be under no
Concern, but ſend it up; for Oil is a genteeler
Sauce than Butter.
Scrape the Bottoms of your Pots and Kettles
with a Silver Spoon, for fear of giving them a
Taſte of Copper.
When
up
Butter for Sauce, be ſo
thrifty as to let it be half Water ; which is alſo
much wholefomer.
Never make ufe of a Spoon in any thing
that
you can do with your Hands, for fear of
wearing out your Maſter's Plate.
When you find that
find that you cannot get Dinner
ready at the Time appointed, put the Clock
back, and then it may be ready to a Minute.
Let a red hot Coal now and then fall into the
Dripping-pan, that the Smoak of the Dripping
may aſcend, and give the roaſted Meat a high
Taſte.
You are to look
upon your
Dreſſing-room; but, you are not to waſh your
Hands, until you have gone to the Neceſſary-
houſe
you fend
Kitchen as your
the COO K.
23
you have fent
houſe, and ſpitted your Meat, truffed your
Fowl, pickt your Sallad; nor indeed until after
up your ſecond Courſe; for
your
Hands will be ten times fouler with the many
Things you are forced to handle ; but when
your Work is over, one Waſhing will ſerve for
all.
There is but one Part of your Drefing that
I would admit while the Victuals are boiling,
roaſting, or ſtewing, I mean the combing your
Head, which loſeth no Time; becauſe you can
ftand over your Cookery, and watch it with
one Hand, while you are uſing your Comb in
the other.
If any of the Combings happen to be ſent
up with the Victuals, you may ſafely lay the
Fault upon any of the Footmen that hath
vexed you: As thoſe Gentlemen are ſometimes
apt to be malicious if you refuſe them a Sop in
the Pan, or a Slice from the Spit; much more
when you diſcharge a Ladle-full of hot Por-
ridge on their Legs, or ſend them up to their
Maſters with a Dith-clout pinned at their Tails.
In roaſting and boiling, order the Kitchen-
maid to bring none but the large Coals, and
fave the ſmall ones for the Fires above Stairs
the firſt are propereſt for drefſing Meat, and
When they are out, if you happen to miſcarry
in any Dith, you may lay the Fault upon want
of Coals: Beſides, the Cinder-pickers will be
ſure to ſpeak ill of your Mafter's Houſekeeping,
where they do not find Plenty of large Cinders
VOL. VIII.
D
mixt
24.
Directions to
mixt with freſh large Coals: Thus you may
dreſs your Meat with Credit, do an Act of
Charity, raiſe the Honour of your Maſter, and
ſometimes get Share of a Pot of Ale for
your
Bounty to the Cinder-woman.
As ſoon as you have ſent up the ſecond Courſe,
you have nothing to do in a great Family until
Supper : Therefore, ſcoure your Hands and
Face, put on your Hood and Scarfe, and take
your Pleaſure among your
among your Cronies, until Nine
or Ten at Night-But dine firſt.
Let there be always a ſtrict Friendſhip be-
tween you and the Butler, for it is both your
Intereſts to be united: The Butler often wants
a comfortable Tit-bit, and you much oftener a
cool Cup of good Liquor. However, be cau-
tious of him, for he is ſometimes an inconſtant
Lover, becauſe he hath great Advantage to al-
lure the Maids with a Glaſs of Sack, or White
Wine and Sugar.
When
you
roaſt a Breaſt of Veal, remember
your Sweet-heart the Butler loveth a Sweet-
bread; therefore ſet it aſide until Evening : You
can ſay, the Cat or the Dog hath run away with
it, or you found it tainted, or fly-blown; and
beſides, it looketh as well at the Table without
it as with it.
When
you
make the Company wait long for
Dinner, and the Meat be overdone, (which is
generally the Cafe) you may lawfully lay the
Fault upon your Lady, who hurried
fend
you ſo to
the COO K.
25
ſend up Dinner, that you was forced to fend it
up too much boiled and roaſted.
When you are in haſte to take down your
Diſhes; tip them in ſuch a manner, that a Do-
zen will fall together upon the Dreſſer, juſt
ready for your Hand.
To fave Time and Trouble, cut your Apples
and Onions with the fame Knife; and well-bred
Gentry love the Taſte of an Onion in every
thing they eat.
Lump three or four Pounds of Butter toge-
ther with your Hands, then daſh it againſt the
Wall juſt over the Dreffer, ſo as to have it
ready to pull by Pieces as you have occaſion for
it.
If you have a Silver Saucepan for the Kitchen
Uſe, let me adviſe you to batter it well, and
keep it always 'black; this will be for your
Maſter's Honour, for it ſhews there has been
conftant good Houſekeeping: And make room
for the Saucepan by wriggling it on the Coals,
&c.
In the fame Manner, if you are allowed a
large Silver Spoon for the Kitchen, let half the
Bowl of it be worn out with continual ſcraping
and ſtirring, and often ſay inerrily, Tbis Spoon
owes my Maſter 110 Service.
When
Mefs of Broth, Water-
gruel, or the like, to your Maſter in a Morn-
ing, do not forget with your Thumb and two
Fingers to put Salt on the side of the Plate;
for if you make uſe of a Spoon, or the End
D 2
of
you ſend
up a
$
26
Directions to
of a Knife, there may be Danger that the Salt
would fall, and that would be a sign of ill
Luck. Only remember to lick
your Thumb
and Fingers clean, before you offer to touch
the Salt.
If your Butter, when it is melted, taſteth of
Braſs, it is your Maſter's Fault, who will not
allow you a Silver Sauce-pan; beſides, the leſs
of it will go further, and new tinning is very
chargeable: If you have a Silver Sauce-pan,
and the Butter ſmelleth of Smoak, lay the Fault
upon the Coals.
If your Dinner miſcarrieth in almoſt every
Diſh, how could you help it: You were teized
by the Footmen coming into the Kitchen ;
and, to prove it true, take Occaſion to be an-
gry, and throw a Ladle-full of Broth on one
or two of their Liveries; beſides, Friday and
Childermas-day are two croſs Days in the Week,
and it is impoſſible to have good Luck on ei-
ther of them; therefore on thoſe two Days
you have a lawful Excuſe.
СНАР.
the Foo Τ Μ Α Ν.
27
CH A P. III.
Directions to the FOOTMAN.
YOUR
OUR Employment being of a mixt Na-
ture, extendeth to a great Variety of Bu-
fineſs, and you ſtand in a fair way of being
the Favourite of your Maſter or Miſtreſs, or of
the young Maſters and Miſſes ; you are the fine
Gentleman of the Family, with whom all the
Maids are in Love. You are ſometimes a Pat-
tern of Dreſs to your Maſter, and ſometimes
he is ſo to you. You wait at Table in all Com-
panies, and conſequently have the Opportunity
to ſee and know the World, and to underſtand
Men and Manners; I confeſs your Vails are
but few, unleſs you are ſent with a Preſent,
or attend the Tea in the Country ; but you are
called Mr. in the Neighbourhood, and ſome-
times pick up a Fortune, perhaps your Maſter's
Daughter; and I' have known many of your
Tribe to have good Commands in the Army.
In Town you have a Seat reſerved for you in
the Play-houſe, where you have an Opportu-
nity of becoming Wits and Criticks : Yon
have
D 3
28
Directions to
have no profeſt Enemy except the Rabble, and
my Lady's Waiting-woman, who are ſome-
times apt to call
you
Skipkennel. I have a true
Veneration for your Office, becauſe I had once
the Honour to be one of your Order, which I
fooliſhly left by demeaning myſelf with accept-
ing an Employment in the Cuſtom-houſe.
But that you, my Brethren, may come to bet-
ter Fortunes, I ſhall here deliver my Inſtructi-
ons, which have been the Fruits of much
Thought and Obſervation, as well as of ſeven
Years Experience.
In order to learn the Secrets of other Fami-
obber
lies, tell them thoſe of your Maſter's; thus
you will grow a Favourite both at home and
abroad, and regarded as a Perſon of Import-
ance.
Never be ſeen in the Streets with a Baſket
or Bundle in your Hands, and carry nothing
but what you can hide in your Pocket, other-
wiſe you will diſgrace your Calling: To prevent
which, always retain a Blackguard Boy to carry
your Loads; and if you want Farthings, pay .
him with a good. Slice of Bread or Scrap of
Meat.
Let a Shoe-boy clean your own Shoes firſt, for
fear of fouling the Chamber, then let him clean
your Maſter's; keep him on purpoſe for that
Uſe and to run of Errands, and pay him with
Scraps. When you are ſent on an Errand, bę
ſure to hedge in ſome Buſineſs of your own,
cither to lee your Sweet-heart, or drink a Pot
of
the FOOT M A N.
29
of Ale with ſome Brother-Servants, which is
ſo much Time clear gained.
There is a great Controverſy about the moſt
convenient and genteel Way of holding your
Plate at Meals; ſome ſtick it between the
Frame and the Back of the Chair, which is an
excellent Expedient, where the Make of the
Chair will allow it: Others, for fear the Plate
ſhould fall, graſp it ſo firmly, that their Thumb
reacheth to the Middle of the Hollow; which
however, if your Thumb be dry, is no ſecure
Method; and therefore in that Cafe, I adviſe
your wetting the Bowl of it with your Tongue:
As to that abſurd Practice of letting the Back
of the Plate lye leaning on the Hollow of your
Hand, which ſome Ladies recommend, it is
univerſally exploded, being liable to ſo many
Accidents. Others again, are fo refined, that
they hold their Plate directly under the left
Arm-pit, which is the beſt Situation for keep-
ing it warm ; but this may be dangerous in the
Article of taking away a Diſh, where your
Plate may happen to fall upon ſome of the
Company's Heads. I confeſs myſelf to have
objected againſt all theſe Ways, which I have
frequently tried; and therefore I recommend
a Fourth, which is to ſtick your Plate up to
the Rim incluſive, in the left Side between
your Waiftcoat and your Shirt: This will keep
it at leaſt as warm as under your Arin-pit, or
Ockſter, (as the Scotch call it) this will hide it
fo, as Strangers may take you for a better Ser-
vant,
30
Directions to
to your
vant, too good to hold a Plate; this will ſecure
it from falling; and thus diſpoſed, it lieth ready
for you to whip it out in a Moment, ready
warmed, to any Gueſt within your Reach, who
may want it. And laſtly, there is another
Convenience in this Method, that if any Time
during your waiting, you find yourſelves going
to cough or ſneeze, you can immediately ſnatch
out your Plate, and hold the hollow Part cloſe
Noſe or Mouth, and, thus prevent ſpirt-
ing any Moiſture from either, upon the Diſhes
or the Ladies Headdreſs : You fee Gentlemen
and Ladies obſerve a like Practice on ſuch an
Occaſion, with a Hat or a Handkerchief; yet
a Plate is leſs fouled and ſooner cleaned than
either of theſe ; for, when your Cough or
Sneeze is over, it is but returning your Plate
to the ſame Poſition, and your Shirt will clean
it in the Paſſage.
Take off the largeſt Diſhes, and ſet them on,
with one Hand, to thew the Ladies
gour and Strength of Back; but always do it
between two Ladies, that if the Diſh happens
to flip, the Soup or Sauce may fall on their
Cloaths, and not daub the Floor : By this
Practice, two of our Brethren, my worthy
Friends, got conſiderable Fortunes.
Learn all the new-faſhion Words, and Oaths,
and Songs, and Scraps of Plays that your Me-
mory can hold. Thus, you will become the
Delight of nine Ladies in ten, and the Enyy of
ninety nine Beaux in a hundred.
Take
your Vi-
:
the FOOTMAN.
31
there, you
Take Care, that at certain Periods, during
Dinner, eſpecially, when Perſons of Quality are
and
your
Brethren be all out of the
Room together, by which you will give your-
ſelves ſome Eaſe from the Fatigue of waiting,
and at the ſame Time leave the Company to
converſe more freely, without being conſtrained
by your Preſence.
When you are ſent on a Meſſage, deliver it
in your own Words, altho' it be to a Duke or
a Dutcheſs, and not in the Words of your Ma-
ſter or Lady; for how can they underſtand
what belongs to a Meſſage as well as you, who
have been bred to the Employment: But never
deliver the Anſwer until it is called for, and
then adorn it with your own Style.
When Dinner is done, carry down a great
Heap of Plates to the Kitchen, and when you
come to the Head of the Stairs, trundle them
all before you : There is not a more agreeable
Sight or Sound, eſpecially if they be Silver ;
beſides the Trouble they ſave you, and there
they will lie ready near the Kitchen Door, for
the Scullion to waſh them.
If you are bringing up a Joint of Meat in a
Diſh, and it falleth out of your Hand, before
you get into the Dining Room, with the Meat
on the Ground, and the Sauce ſpilled, take up
the Meat gently, wipe it with the Lap of your
Coat, then put it again into the Diſh, and ſerve
it up; and when your Lady miſſes the Sauce,
tell her, it is to be ſent up in a Plate by itſelf.
When
32
Directions to
.
When you carry up a Difh of Meat, dip
your Fingers in the Sauce, or lick it with
your
Tongue, to try whether it be good, and fit
for
your
Maſter's Table,
You are the beſt Judge of what Acquaintance
your Lady ought to have, and therefore, if ſhe
ſendeth you on a Meſſage of Compliment or Bu-
fineſs to a Family you do not like, deliver the
Anſwer in ſuch a Manner, as may breed a
Quarrel between them not to be reconciled :
Or, if a Footman cometh from the ſame Farnily
on the like Errand, turn the Anſwer ſhe order-
eth you to deliver, in ſuch a Manner, as the
other Family may take it for an Affront.
When you are in Lodgings, and no Shoe-boy
to be got, clean your Maſter's Shoes with the
Bottom of the Curtains, a clean Napkin, or
your Landlady's Apron.
Ever wear your Hat in the Houſe, but when
your
Maſter calleth ; and as ſoon as you come
into his Preſence, pull it off to ſhew your
Manners.
Never clean your Shoes on the Scraper, but
in the Entry, or at the Foot of the Stairs, by
which you will have the Credit of being at
home, almoſt a Minute ſooner, and the Scraper
will laſt the longer.
Never aſk Leave to go abroad, for then it
will be always known that you are abſent, and
you will be thought an idle rambling Fellow;
whereas, if
you go out, and no body obſerveth,
you have a Chance of coming home without
being
the FOOT MAN.
33
being miſſed, and you need not tell your
Fel.
low-lervants where you are gone, for they will
be ſure to ſay, you were in the Houſe but two
Minutes ago, which is the Duty of all Servants.
Snuff the Candles with your fingers, and
throw the Snuff on the Floor, then tread it
out to prevent ſtinking : This Method will
very
much ſave the Snuffers from wearing out. You
ought alſo to ſnuff them cloſe to the Tallow,
which will make them run, and ſo encreaſe the
Perquiſite of the Cook's Kitchin-Stuff ; for ſhe
is the Perſon you ought in Prudence to be well
with.
While Grace is ſaying after Meat, do you
and
your
Brethren take the Chairs from behind
the Company, ſo that when they go to fit again,
they may fall backwards, which will make
them all merry
you
fo diſcreet as to
hold your Laughter till you get to the Kitchen,
and then divert your Fellow-fervants.
When you know your Maſter is moſt buſy
in Company, come in and pretend to fettle a-
bout the Room; and if he chideth, ſay, you
thought he rung the Bell.
the Bell. This will divert him
from plodding on Buſineſs too much, or ſpend.
ing himſelf in Talk, or racking his Thoughts,
all which are hurtful to his Conftitution.
If you are ordered to break the Claw of a
Crab or a Lobſter, clap it between the Sides of
the Dining Room Door between the Hinges :
Thus
you can do it gradually without maſhing
the
merry; but be
34
DireEtions to
the Meat, which is often the Fate of the Street-
Door-Key, or the Peſtle.
When
you take a foul Plate from any of the
Gueſts, and obſerve the foul Knife and Fork
lying on the Plate, fhew your Dexterity, take
up the Plate, and throw off the Knife and
Fork on the Table, without ſhaking off the
Bones or broken Meat that are left: Then the
Gueſt, who hath more Time than
you,
will
wipe the Fork and Knife already uſed.
When you carry a Glaſs of Liquor to any
Perſon who hath called for it, do not bob him
on the Shoulder, or cry, Sir, or Madam, here's
the Glaſs, that would be unmannerly, as if
you
had a Mind to force it down one's Throat
but ſtand at the Perſon's right Shoulder, and
wait his Time ; and if he ſtriketh it down with
his Elbow by Forgetfulneſs, that was his Fault
and not yours.
to ſave your
When yourMiſtreſs ſendeth you for a Hackney
Coach in a wet Day, come back in the Coach
Cloaths and the Trouble of walk-
ing; it is better the Bettom of her Pettycoats
hould be daggled with your dirty Shoes, than
your Livery be ſpoiled, and yourſelf get a Cold.
There is no Indignity ſo great to one
of
your
Station, as that of lighting your Maſter in the
Streets with a Lanthorn ; and therefore, it is
very honeſt Policy to try all Arts how to evade
it: Beſides, it ſheweth your Maſter to be either
covetous or poor, which are the two worſt Qua-
lities you can meet with in any Service. When
I was
the FOOT MAN.
35
I was under theſe Circumſtances, I made uſe of
ſeveral wiſe Expedients, which I here recom-
mend to you. Sometimes I took a Candle fo
long, that it reached to the very Top of the
Lanthorn, and burned it : But, my Maſter after
a good Beating, ordered me to paſte the Top
with Paper. I then uſed a middling Candle,
but ſtuck it ſo looſe in the Socket, that it leaned
towards one side, and burned a whole Quarter
of the Horn. Then I uſed a Bit of Candle
of half an Inch, which funk in the Socket,
and melted the Solder, and forced my
Maſter
to walk half the Way in the Dark. Then he
made me ſtick two Inches of Candle in the
Place where the Socket was; after which, I
pretended to ſtumble, put out the Candle, and
broke all the Tin Part to Pieces : At laſt, lye
was forced to make uſe of a Lanthorn-boy out
of perfect good Huſbandry.
It is much to be lamented, that Gentlemen
of our Employment have but two Hands to car-
ry Plates, Diihes, Bottles, and the like out of
the Room at Meals; and the Misfortune is ſtill
the greater, becauſe one of thoſe Hands is re-
quired to open the Door, while you are en-
cumbred with your Load : Therefore, I adviſe,
that the Door may be always left at jarr, ſo as
to open it with your Foot, and then you may
carry out Plates and Diſhes from your Belly up
to your Chin, beſides a good Quantity of Things
under your Arms, which will ſave you many
a weary Step; but take Care that none of the
Burthen
36
Directions to
Burthen falls until you are out of the Room,
and if poſſible, out of Hearing.
If you are ſent to the Post-Office with a
Letter in a cold rainy Night, ſtep to the Ale-
houſe, and take a Pot, until it is ſuppoſed you
have done your Errand; but take the next fair
Opportunity to put the Letter in carefully, as
becometh an honeſt Servant.
If you are ordered to make Coffee for the
Ladies after Dinner, and the Pot happeneth to
boil over, while you are running up for a Spoon
to ſtir it, or are thinking of ſomething elſe, or
ſtruggling with the Chamber-maid for a Kiſs,
wipe the sides of the Pot clean with a Diſhclout,
carry up your Coffee boldly, and when your
Lady finds it too weak, and examines you whe-
ther it hath not run over; deny the Fact abſolute-
ly, ſwear you put in more Coffee than ordinary,
that you never ſtirred an Inch from it, that you
ſtrove to make it better than uſual, becauſe
your
Miſtreſs had Ladies with her, that the Servants
in the Kitchen will juſtify what you ſay: Upon
this, you will find that the other Ladies will
pronounce your Coffee to be very good, and
your
Miſtreſs will confeſs that her Mouth is
out of Taſte, and ſhe will for the future ſuf-
pect herſelf, and be more cautious in finding
Fault. This I would have you do from a Prin-
ciple of Conſcience, for Coffee is very unwhole:
fome; and out of Affection to your Lady, you
ought to give it her as weak as poffible: And
upon this Argument; when you have a Mind
to
the F O O T M A N.
37
1
to treat any of the Maids with a Difh of fresh
Coffee, you may, and ought to ſubſtract a third
Part of the Powder, on account of your Lady's
Health, and getting her Maids Good-will.
If your Maſter ſendeth you with a ſmall tri-
fling Preſent to one of his Friends, be as care-
ful of it as you would be of a Diamond Ring:
Therefore, if the Preſent be only Half a Do-
zen Pippins, ſend up the Servant who received
the Meſſage to ſay, that you were ordered to
deliver thein with your own Hands. This will
ſhew your Exactneſs and Care to prevent Acci-
dents or Miſtakes; and the Gentleman or Lady
cannot do leſs than give you a Shilling. So
when your Maſter receives the like Preſent,
teach the Meſſenger who bringeth it to do the
fame, and give your Maſter Hints that may ſtir
up his Generoſity; for Brother Servants ſhould
aſſiſt one another, ſince it is all for
your
Ma-
ſter's Honour, which is the chief Point to be
conſulted by every good Servant, and of which
he is the beſt Judge.
When you ſtep but a few Doors off to tattle
with a Wench, or take a running Pot of Ale,
or to ſee a Brother Footman going to be hanged,
leave the Street Door
open,
that
you may not
be forced to knock, and your Maſter diſcover
you are gone out; for a Quarter of an Hour's
Time can do his Service no Injury.
When you take away the remaining Pieces
of Bread after Dinner, put them on foul Plates,
and preſs them down with other Plates over
them,
38
Dire&tions to
them, ſo as no body can touch them; and ſo,
they will be a good Perquiſite to the Blackguard
Boy in ordinary.
When you are forced to clean your Maſter's
Shoes with your own Hand, uſe the Edge of
the ſharpeſt Caſe Knife, and dry them with
the Toes an Inch from the Fire, becauſe wec
Shoes are dangerous; and beſides, by theſe Arts
you
will get them the ſooner for yourſelf.
In ſome Families the Maſter often ſendeth to
the Tavern for a Bottle of Wine, and you are
the Meſſenger: I adviſe you, therefore, to take
the ſmalleſt Bottle you can find; but however,
make the Drawer give you a full Quart, then
you
will get a good Sup for yourſelf, and your
Bottle will be filled. As for a Cork to ſtop it,
you need be at no Trouble, for the Thumb
will do as well, or a Bit of dirty chewed Paper.
In all Diſputes with Chairmen and Coach-
men, for demanding too much, when your
Mafter ſendeth you down tochaffer with them,
take Pity of the poor Fellows, and tell your
Mafter that they will not take a Farthing leſs :
It is more for your Intereſt to get Share of a
Pot of Ale, than to ſave a Shilling for your
Maſter, to whom it is a Trifle.
When
you
attend your Lady in a dark Night,
if ſhe uſech her Coach, do not walk by the
Coach Side, ſo as to tire and dirt yourſelf, but
get up into your proper Place, behind it, and
to hold the Flambeau floping forward over the
Coach
the FOOT M A N.
39
Coach Roof; and when it wants fnuffing,
daſh it againſt the Corners.
When you leave your Lady at Church on
Sundays, you have two Hours ſafe to ſpend with
your Companions at the Ale-houſe, or over a
Beef-Scake and a Pot of Beer at Home, with
the Cook, and the Maids ; and, indeed, poor
Servants have ſo few Opporçunities to be happy,
that they ought not to loſe any.
Never wear Socks when you wait at Meals,
on the Account of your own Health, as well as
of them who fit at Table; becauſe, as moft
Ladies like the Smell of young Mens Toes, ſo
it is a ſovereign Remedy againſt the Vapours.
Chufe a Service, if you can, where your Li-
very Colours are leaſt tawdry and diſtinguiſhing:
Green and Yellow immediately betray your
Office, and ſo do all Kinds of Lace, except Sil-
ver, which will hardly fall to your Share, un-
lefs with a Duke, or fome Prodigal juſt come
to his Eſtate. The Colours you ought to wiſh
for, are Blue, or Filemot, turned up with Red;
which with a borrowed Sword, a borrowed Air,
your Maſter's Linen, and a natural and im-
proved Confidence, will give you what Title
you pleaſe, where you are not known.
When you carry Diſhes or other Things out
of the Room at Meals, fill both your Hands as
full as poſſible ; for, although you may fome-
times ſpill, and ſometimes let fall, yet you will
find at the Year's End, you have made great
Diſpatch, and ſaved abundance of Time.
VOL. VIII.
E
If
40
Directions to
If your Maſter or Miſtreſs happens to walk
the Streets, keep on one Side, and as much on
the Level with them as you can, which Peo-
ple obſerving, will either think you do not
belong to them, or that you are one of their
Companions ; but, if either of them happen
to turn back and ſpeak to you, ſo that you are
under the Neceſſity to take off your Hat, uſe
but
your Thumb and one Finger, and ſcratch
your Head with the reſt.
In Winter Time light the Dining-Room
Fire but two Minutes before Dinner is ſerved
up, that your Maſter may ſee, how faving you
are of his Coals.
When you are ordered to ſtir up the Fire,
clean away the Alhes from between the Bars
with the Fire-Bruſh.
When you are ordered to call a Coach, al-
though it be Midnight, go no further than the
Door, for Fear of being out of the Way when
you are wanted; and there ſtand bawling,
Coach, Coach, for half an Hour.
Although you Gentlemen in Livery have the
Misfortune to be treated ſcurvily by all Man-
kind, yet you make a Shift to keep up your
Spirits, and ſometimes arrive at conſiderable
Fortunes. I was an intimate Friend to one of
our Brethren, who was Footman to a Court-
Lady: She had an honourable Employment,
was Siſter to an Earl, and the Widow of a Man
of Quality. She obſerved ſomething ſo polite
in my Friend, the Gracefulneſs with which he
tript
1
the F Ο Ο Τ Μ Α Ν.
41
tript before her Chair, and put his Hair under
his Hat, that ſhe made him many Advances;
and one Day taking the Air in her Coach with
Tom behind it, the Coachman miſtook the
Way, and ſtopt at a priviledged Chapel, where
the Couple were married, and Tom came home
in the Chariot by his Lady's Side: But he un-
fortunately taught her to drink Brandy, of
which ſhe died, after having pawned all her
Plate to purchaſe it, and Tom is now a Jour-
neyman Malſter.
Boucher, the famous Gameſter, was another
of our Fraternity, and when he was worth
50,000l. he dunned the Duke of B-g--m for
an Arrear of Wages in his Service: And I could
inſtance many more; particularly another,
whoſe Son had one of the chief Employments
at Court; and is ſufficient to give you the fol.
lowing Advice, which is to be pert and ſawcy
to all Mankind, eſpecially to the Chaplain, the
Waiting-woman, and the better Sort of Ser-
vants in a Perſon of Quality's Family, and value
not now and then a Kicking, or a Caneing; for
your Inſolence will at laſt turn to good Account;
and from wearing a Livery, you may probably
foon carry a Pair of Colours.
When you wait behind a Chair at Meals,
keep conſtantly wriggling the back of the Chair,
that the Perſon behind whom you ſtand, may
know you are ready to attend him.
When you carry a Parcel of China Plates, if
tley chance to fall, as it is a frequent Misfor-
tune,
E 2
42
Dire&tions to
tune, your Excuſe muſt be, that a Dog ran a-
croſs
you
in the Hall; that the Chamber-maid
accidentally puſhed the Door againſt you ; that
a Mop ſtood acroſs the Entry, and tript you
up;
that
your Sleeve ſtuck againſt the Key, or But-
ton of the Lock.
When your Maſter and Lady are talking to-
gether in the Bed-chamber, and you have
ſome Suſpicion that you or your Fellow-ſervants
are concerned in what they ſay, liſten at the
Door for the publick Good of all the Servants,
and join all to take proper Meaſures for prevent-
ing any Innovations that may hurt the Com-
munity.
Be not proud in Proſperity: You have heard
that Fortune turneth on a Wheel ; if you have
a good Place, you are at the Top of the Wheel.
Remember how often you have been ſtripped,
and kicked out of Doors, your Wages all taken
up beforehand,and ſpent in tranſlated red-heeled
Shoes, ſecond-hand Toupees, and repaired Lace
Ruffles, beſides a ſwingeing Debt to the Ale-
wife and the Brandy-ſhop. The neighbouring
Tapſter, who before would beckon you over
to a favoury Bit of Ox-cheek in the Morning,
give it you gratis, and only ſcore
you up for
the Liquor, immediately after you were packt
off in Diſgrace, carried a Petition to your Ma-
ſter, to be paid out of your Wages, whereof
not a Farthing was due, and then purſued you
with Bailiffs into every blind Cellar. Remem-
ber how foon you grew ſhabby, thread.-bare,
and
the FOOT M A N.
43
to ſteal
and out-at-heels; was forced to borrow an old
Livery Coat, to make your Appearance, while
you were looking for a Place; and ſneak to e-
very Houſe where you have an old Acquaintance
you a Scrap, to keep Life and Soul to-
gether; and, upon the whole, were in the low-
eſt Station of Human Life ; which, as the old
Ballad ſays, is that of a Skipkennel turned out
of Place : I ſay, remember all this now in your
flouriſhing Condition. Pay your Contributions
duly to your late Brothers the Cadets, who are
left to the wide World: Take one of them as
your Dependant, to ſend on your Lady's Mef-
ſages, when you have a Mind to go to the Ale-
houſe ; Nip him out privately now and then a
Slice of Bread, and a Bit of cold Meat, your
Mafter can afford it, and if he be not yet put
upon the Eſtabliſhment for a Lodging, let him
lye in the Stable, or the Coach-houſe, or un-
der the Back-ſtairs, and recommend him to all
the Gentlemen who frequent your Houſe, as
an excellent Servant.
To grow old in the Office of a Footman, is
the higheſt of all Indignities: Therefore, when
you find Years coming on, without Hopes of
a Place at Court, a Command in the Army, a
Succeſſion to the Stewardſhip, an Employment
in the Revenue (which two laſt you cannot ob-
tain without Reading and Writing) or running
away with your Maſter's Niece or Daughter I
directly adviſe you to go upon the Road, which
is the only Poſt of Honour left you: There
E 3
VOU
44
Directions to
you will meet many of your old Comrades, and
live a ſhort Life and a merry one, and make a
Figure at your Exit, wherein I will give you
fome Inſtructions.
The laſt Advice I give you, relateth to your
Behaviour when you are going to be hanged;
which, either for robbing your Maſter, for
Houſe-breaking, or going upon the High-way,
or in a drunken Quarrel, by killing the firſt
Man you meet, may very probably be your
Lot, and is owing to one of theſe three Qua-
lities, either a Love of good Fellowſhip, a
Generoſity of Mind, or too much Vivacity of
Spirits. Your good Behaviour on this Article,
will concern your whole Community: Deny
the Fact with all Solemnity of Imprecations :
A hundred of your Brethren, if they can be
admitted, will attend about the Bar, and be
rcady upon Demand to give you a good Charac-
ter before the Court: Let nothing prevail on
you to confeſs, but the Promiſe of a Pardon for
diſcovering your Comrades : But, I ſuppoſe all
this to be in vain, for if you eſcape now, your
Fate will be the ſame another Day. Get a
Speech to be written by the beſt Author of Nero-
gate : Some of your kind Wenches will provide
you
with a Holland Shirt, and white Cap crown-
ed with a crimſon or black Ribbon: Take Leave
chearfully of all your Friends in Newgate :
Mount the Cart with Courage : Fall on your
Knees: Lift up your Hands: Hold a Book in
your Hands, although you cannot read a Word:
Deny
the FOOT MAN,
45
Deny the Fact at the Gallows: Kiſs and forgive
the Hangman, and ſo Farewel: You ſhall be
buried in Pomp, at the Charge of the Frater-
nity : The Surgeon ſhall not touch a Limb of
you; and your Fame ihall continue until
Succeſſor of equal Renown ſucceedeth in your
Place.
CH A P. IV.
Directions to the COACHMAN.
You
U are ſtrictly bound to nothing, but to
ſtep into the Box, and carry your Maſter
or Lady.
Let your Horſes be ſo well trained, that
when you attend your Lady at a Viſit, they
will wait until you ſlip into a neighbouring
Ale-houſe, to take a Pot with a Friend.
When you are in nc Humour to drive, tell
your Maſter that the Horſes have got a Cold;
that they want Shoeing; that Rain does them
Hurt, and roughens their Coat, and rots the
Harneſs. This may likewiſe be applied to the
Groom.
If yourMaſter dineth with a Country Friend,
drink as much as you can get; becauſe, it is al-
lowed, that a good Coachman never driveth fo
well as when he is drunk; and then ſhew your
Skill,
E 4
46
Directions to
your Coach
Skill, by driving to an Inch by a Precipice; and
ſay, you never drive ſo well as when drunk.
If
you
find
any
Gentleman fond of one of
your Horſes, and willing to give you a Confi-
deration beſide the Price ; perſwade your Ma-
ſter to ſell him, becauſe he is ſo vicious, that
you cannot undertake to drive with him, and
is foundered into the Bargain.
Get a Black-guard Boy to watch
at the Church Door on Sundays, that you
and
your Brother-Coachmen may be merry toge-
ther at the Ale-houſe, while your Maſter and
Lady are at Church,
Take Care that your Wheels be good; and
get a new Set bought as often as you can, whe-
ther you are allowed the old as your Perquiſite
or not: In one Caſe, it will turn to your honeſt
Profit, and in the other, it will be a juft Pu-
niſhment on your Maſter's Covetouſneſs; and
probably the Coach-maker will conſider you
100.
CH A P.
the G ROOM.
47
CH A P. V.
Directions to the GRO O M.
YOU
OU are the Servant upon whom the Care
of your Maſter's Honour in all Journies
entirely dependeth: Your Breaſt is the ſole Re-
poſitory of it. If he travelleth the Country, and
lodgeth at Inns, every Dram of Brandy, every
Pot of Ale extraordinary that you drink, raiſeth
his Character; and therefore, his Reputation
ought to be dear to you; and, I hope, you will
not ſtint yourſelf in either. The Smith, the
Sadler's Journeyman, the Cook at the Inn, the
Oftler, and the Boot-catcher, ought all, by your
Means, to partake of your Maſter's Generoſity:
Thus, his Fame will reach from one County
to another ; and what is a Gallon of Ale, or a
Pint of Brandy in his Worſhip's Pocket? And,
although he ſhould be in the Number of thoſe
who value their Credit leſs than their Purſe,
yet your Care of the former ought to be fo
much the greater. His Horſe wanted two
Removes; your Horſe wanted Nails; his Al-
lowance of Oats and Beans was greater than che
Journey required; a third Part may be retrench-
ed, and turned into Alc or Brandy; and thus his
Honour
)
48
Directions to
Honour may be preſerved by your Diſcretion,
and leſsExpence to him; or, if he travelleth with
no other Servant, the Matter is eaſily made up
in the Bill between you and the Tapſter, .
Therefore, as ſoon as you alight at the Inn,
deliver your Horſes to the Stable-boy, and let
him gallop them to the next Pond; then call
for a Pot of Ale, for it is very fit that a Chriſt-
ian ſhould drink before a Beaſt. Leave your
Mafter to the Care of the Servants in the Inn,
and your Horſes to thoſe in the Stable: Thus
both he and they are left in the propereſt
Hands; but you are to provide for yourſelf;
therefore get your Supper, drink freely, and
go to Bed without troubling your Maſter, who
is in better Hands than yours. The Oftler is
an honeſt Fellow, and loveth Horſes in his
Heart; and would not wrong the dumb Crea-
tures for the World. Be tender of your Ma-
fter, and order the Servants not to wake him
too early. Get
Get your Breakfaſt before he is up,
that he may not wait for you'; make the Oſtler
tell him the Roads are very good, and the
Miles ſhort; but adviſe him to ſtay a little
longer until the Weather cleareth up, for he is
afraid there will be Rain, and he will be Time
enough after Dinner.
Let your Maſter mount before you, out of
Good-manners. As he is leaving the Inn,
drop a good Word in Favour of the Oſtler,
what Care he took of the Cattle ; and add,
that you never ſaw civiller Servants.
Maſter
Let your
the G ROOM,
49
Maſter ride on before, and do you ſtay until your
Landlord hath given you a Dram ; then gallop
after him thro' the Town or Village with full
Speed, for fear he ſhould want you, and to ſhew
your Horſemanſhip.
If you are a piece of a Farrier, as.every good
Groom ought to be, get Sack, Brandy, or
Strong-beer to rub your Horſes Heels every
Night, and be not ſparing, for (if any be ſpent)
what is left, you know how to diſpoſe of it.
Conſider your Maſter's Health, and rather
than let him take long Journies, ſay the Cattle
are weak, and fallen in their Fleſh with hard
Riding; tell him of a very good Inn five Miles
nearer than he intended to go; or leave one of
his Horſes Fore-Shoes looſe in the Morning; or
contrive that the Saddle may pinch the Beaſt in
his Withers; or keep him without Corn all
Night and Morning, ſo that he may tire on
the Road; or wedge a thin Plate of Iron be-
tween the Hoof and the Shoe, to make him
Halt; and all this in perfect Tenderneſs to your
Maſter.
When you are going to be hired, andtheGen-
tleman aſketh
you, Whether
you are apt to be
drunk? Own freely, that you love a Cup of good
Ale; but that it is your Way, drunk or ſober,
never to neglect your Horſes.
When your Maſter hath a Mind to ride out
for the Air, or for Pleaſure, if any private Bu-
ſineſs of your own maketh it inconvenient for
you to attend him; give him to underſtand,
that
50
Direktions to
that the Horſes want bleeding or purging ; that
his own Pad hath got a Surfeit ; or, that the
Saddle wanteth ſtuffing; and his Bridle is gone
to be mended: This you may honeſtly do, be-
cauſe it will be no Injury to the Horſes or your
Maſter; and at the ſame time ſheweth the great
Care you have of the poor dumb Creatures.
If there be a particular Inn in the Town
whither you are going, and where you are well
acquainted with the Oftler or Tapſter, and the
People of the Houſe; find Fault with the other
Inns, and recommend your Maſter thither ; it
may probably be a Pot and a Dram or two
more in your Way, and to your Maſter's Ho-
nour.
3
If your Maſter ſendeth you to buy Hay, deal
with thoſe who will be the moſt liberal to you;
for Service being no Inheritance, you ought not
to let ſlip any lawful and cuſtomary Perquiſite.
If
your Maſter buyeth it himſelf, he wrongeth
you ; and to teach him his Duty, be ſure to
find Fault with the Hay as long as it lafteth
and, if the Horſes thrive with it, the Fault is
yours.
Hay and Oats in the Management of a ſkil-
ful Groom, will make excellent Ale as well as
Brandy; but this I only hint.
When your Maſter dineth, or lieth at aGen-
tleman's Houſe in the Country, altho' there be
no Groom, or he be gone abroad, or that the
Horſes have been quite neglected; be ſure em-
ploy ſome of the Servants to hold the Horſe
when
the GROOM.
51
when your Maſter mounteth. This I would have
you do, when your Maſter only alighteth, to call
in for a few Minutes: For Brother-fervants
muſt always befriend one another, and that al-
ſo concerneth your Maſter's Honour ; becauſe
he cannot do leſs than give a Piece of Money to
him who holdeth his Horſe.
In long Journies, aſk your Maſter Leave to
give Ale to the Horſes ; carry two Quarts full
to the Stable, pour Half a Pint into a Bowl,
and if they will not drink it, you and the Ofte
ler muſt do the beſt you can; perhaps, they
may be in a better Humour at the next Inn,
for I would have you never fail to make the
Experiment.
When you go to air your Horſes in the Park,
or the Fields, give them to a Horſe-boy, or one
of the Black-guards, who being lighter than
you, may be truſted to run Races with leſs Da-
mage to the Horſes, and teach them to leap
over Hedges and Ditches, while you are drink-
ing a friendly Pot with your Brother-Grooms:
But ſometimes you and they may run Races
yourſelves for the Honour of your Horſes, and
of
Never ſtint your Horſes at home in Hay and
Oats, but fill the Rack to the Top, and the
Manger to the Brim: For you would take it
ill to be ſtinted yourſelf, although, perhaps, they
may not have the Stomach to eat; conſider,
they have no Tongues to aſk. If the Hay be
thrown
your Maſters.
52
Directions to
thrown down, there is no Loſs, for it will
make Litter and ſave Straw.
When your Maſter is leaving a Gentleman's
Houſe in the Country, where he hath lain a
Night; then conſider his Honour: Let him
know how many Servants there are of both
Sexes, who expect Vails; and give them their
Cue to attend in two Lines as he leaveth the
Houſe; but, defire him not to truſt the Money
with the Butler, for fear he ſhould cheat the
Teſt: This will force your Maſter to be more
gefierous ; and then you may take Occaſion to
tell your Maſter, that Squire ſuch a one, whom
you lived with laft, always gave ſo much
apiece to the common Servants, and ſo much to
the Houſe-keeper, and the reſt, naming at leaſt
double to what he intended to give ; but, be
ſure to tell the Servants what a good Office
you did them: This will gain you Love, and
your Maſter Honour.
You may venture to be drunk much oftener
than the Coachman, whatever he pretendeth to
alledge in his own Behalf, becauſe you hazard
no Body's Neck but your own; for, the Horſe
will probably take ſo much Care of himſelf, as
to come off with only a Strain, or a Shoulder-
ſlip.
When you carry your Maſter's Riding-Coat
in a Journey, wrap your own in it, and buckle
them up cloſe with a Strap, but turn your
Maſter's Inſide out, to preſerve the Outſide
from Wet and Dirt; thus, when it begins to
rain,
1
the GRO O M.
53
rain, your Maſter's Coat will be firſt ready to
be given him ; and, if it get more Hurt than
yours, he can afford it better, for your Livery
muſt always ſerve its Year's Apprenticeſhip.
When you come to your Inn with the Horſes
wet and dirty after hard Riding, and are very
hot ; make the Otler immediately plunge them
into Water up to their Bellies, and allow them
to drink as much as they pleaſe; but, be ſure to
gallop them full-ſpeed a Mile at leaſt, to dry
their Skins and warm the Water in their Bellies.
The Oftler underſtandeth his Buſineſs, leave all
to his Diſcretion, while you get a Pot of Ale
and ſome Brandy at the Kitchen Fire to comfort
your Heart.
If your Horſe drop a Fore-Shoe, be ſo care-
ful to alight and take it up: Then ride with all
the Speed you can (the Shoe in your Hand
that every Traveller may obſerve your Care) to
the next Smith on the Road, inake him put
it on immediately, that your Maſter may not
wait for you, and that the poor Horſe may be
as ſhort a Time as poſſible without a Shoe.
When your Maſter lieth at a Gentleman's
Houſe, if you find the Hay and Oats are good,
complain aloud of their Badneſs; this will
get
you the Name of a diligent Servant; and be
ſure to cram the Horſes with as much Oats as
they can eat, while you are there, and you
may give them ſo much the leſs for ſome Days
at the Inns, and turn the Oats into Ale.
When you leave the Gentleman's Houfe, tell
your
54
Directions to
}
your Maſter what a covetous Huncks that
Gentleman was, that you got nothing but
Butter-milk or Water to drink; this will make
your Maſter out of Pity allow you a Pot of
Ale the more at the next Inn: But, if
you
happen to get drunk in a Gentleman's Houſe,
your Maſter cannot be angry, becauſe it coſt
him nothing; and ſo you ought to tell him as
well as you can in your preſent Condition,
and let him know it is both for his and the
Gentleman's Honour to make a Friend's Ser-
vant welcome.
A Maſter ought always to love his Groom,
to put him into a handſome Livery, and to al-
low hin a Silver-laced Hat. When you are in
this Equipage, all the Honours he receiveth on
the Road are owing to you alone: That he is
not turned out of the Way by every Carrier,
is cauſed by the Civility he receiveth at ſecond
Hand from the Reſpect paid to your Livery.
You may now and then lend your Maſter's
Pad to a Brother Servant, or your favourite
Maid, for a ſhort Jaunt, or hire him for a
Day, becauſe the Horſe is ſpoiled for want
of Exerciſe: And if your Maſter happeneth to
want his Horſe, or hath a Mind to ſee the
Stable, curſe that Rogue the Helper who is
gone out with the Key.
When you want to ſpend an Hour or two
with your Companions at the Ale-Houſe, and
that
you
ſtand in need of a reaſonable Excuſe
for your Stay; go out of the Stable Door, or
the
the HOUSE-STEWARD, &C.
55
ů are not miffed all is
the back Way, with an old Bridle,, Girth, or
Stirrup Leather in your Pocket, and on your
Return, come home by the Street Door with
the fame Bridle, Girth, or Stirrup Leather
dangling in your Hand, as if you came from
the Saddler's, where you were getting the
well), but, if you are met by your Maſter,
you will have the Reputation of a careful
Servant. This I have known practiſed with
good Succeſs.
C H A P.
VI.
$
Directions to the HOUSÉ STEWARD,
and LAND STEWARD.
L
ORD Peterborough's Steward that pulled
down his Houſe, fold the Materials, and
charged my Lord with Repairs. Take Money
for Forbearance from Tenants. Renew Leafes
and get by them, and ſell Woods. Lend my
Lord his own Money. (Gilblas faid much of
this, to whom I refer.)
Vol. VIII.
national
CII AP
56
Directions to
CH A P. VII.
Directions to the PORTER.
I
F your Maſter be a Miniſter of State, let
him be at Home to none but his Pimp, or
Chief Flatterer, or one of his Penſionary
Writers, or his hired Spy, and Informer, or
his Printer in ordinary, or his City Sollicitor,
or a Land-Jobber, or his Inventor of new
Funds, or a Stock-Jobber.
'
CH A P. VIII.
Directions to the CHAMBER-MAID.
T
HE Nature of your Employment differ-
eth according to the Quality, the Pride,
or the Wealth of the Lady you ſerve; and
this Treatiſe is to be applied to all Sorts of
Families; ſo, that I find myſelf under great
Difficulty to adjuſt the Buſineſs for which
you
are hired. In a Family, where there is a tole-
rable
the CHAMBER - MAID
57
rable Eſtate, you differ from the Houſe-Maid;
and in that View I give my Directions.
Directions. Your
particular Province is your Lady's Chamber,
where you make the Bed, and put Things in
Order; and if you live in the Country, you
take Care of Rooms where Ladies lie who
come into the Houſe, which bringeth in all the
Vails that fall to your Share.
Your uſual
Lover, as I take it, is the Coachman; but, if
you are under Twenty, and tolerably hand-
ſome, perhaps a Footman may caſt his Eyes
on you.
Get your favourite Footman to help you in
making your Lady's Bed.
Do not carry down the neceſſary Veſſels for
the Fellows to ſee, but empty them out of the
Window, for your Lady's Credit.
It is highly
improper for Men Servants to know that fine
Ladies have Occaſion for ſuch Utenſils; and do
not ſcour the Chamber-pot, becauſe the Smell
is wholeſome.
If you happen to break any China with the
Top of the Whisk on the Mantle-tree or the
Cabinet, gather up the Fragments, put them
together as well as you can, and place them
behind the reſt, ſo that when your Lady cometh
to diſcover them, you may ſafely ſay they were
broke long ago, before you came to the Service.
This will ſave your Lady many an Hour's
Vexation.
It ſometimes happens that a Looking-Glaſs
is broken by the ſame Means, while you art
looking
$
F 2
53
Dire&tions to
looking another Way, as you ſweep the Cham-
ber, the long End of the Bruſh ſtriketh againſt
the Glaſs, and breaketh it to Shivers. This is
the extremelt of all Misfortunes, and all Re-
medy deſperate in Appearance, becauſe it is
impoffible to be concealed. Such a fatal Acci-
dent once happened in a great Family where I
had the Honour to be a Footman; and I will
relate the Particulars, to thew the Ingenuity of
the poor Chamber-maid on lo ſudden and
dreadful an Emergency, which perhaps may
help to ſharpen your Invention, if your
evil
Ştar ſhould ever give you the like Occaſion.
The poor Girl had broken a large Japan Glaſs
of great Value, with a Stroke of her Bruſh :
She had not conſidered long, when by a pro-
digious Preſence of Mind, ſhe locked the
Door, ſtole into the Yard, brought a Stone of
three Pound Weight into the Chamber, laid
it on the Hearth juſt under the Looking-Glaſs,
then broke a Pane in the Saſh Window that
looked into the ſame Yard, ſo ſhut the Door,
and went about her other Affairs. Two Hours
after, the Lady goeth into the Chamber, ſees
the Glaſs broken, the Stone lying under, and
a whole Pane in the Window deſtroyed; from
all which Circumſtances, ſhe concluded juſt as
the Maid could have wiſhed, that ſome idle
Straggler in the Neighbourhood, or perhaps
one of the Out-Servants, had through Malice,
Accident, or Careleſneſs, flung in the Stone
and done the Miſchief. Thus far all Things
went
the CHAMBER-MAID.
59
went well, and the Girl concluded herſelf out
of Danger: But, it was her ill Fortune, that a
few Hours after in came the Parfou of the Pa-
riſh, and the Lady (naturally) told him the Ac-
cident, which you may believe had much diſ-
compoſed her, but the Miniſter, who hap-
pened to underſtand Mathematicks, after exa-
mining the Situation of the Yard, the Window,
and the Chimney, foon convinced the Lady,
that the Stone could never reach the Looking-
Glaſs without taking three Turns in its Flight
from the Hand that threw it; and the Maid
being proved to have ſwept the Room the fame
Morning, was ſtrictly examined, but conſtant-
ly denied that the was guilty upon her Salva-
tion, offering to take her Oath upon the Bible,
before his Reverence, that ſhe was innocent as
the Child unborn ; yet the
poor Wench was
turned off, which I take to have been hard
Treatment, conſidering her Ingenuity : How-
ever, this may be a Direction to you in the
like Caſe, to contrive a Story that will better
hang together. For Inſtance, you might fay,
that while you were at Work with the Mop,
or Bruſh, a Flaſh of Lightning came ſuddenly
in at the Window, which almoſt blinded
you; that you immediately heard the ringing
of broken Glafs on the Hearth; that, as ſoon
as you recovered your Eyes, you ſaw the Look-
ing-Glaſs all broken to Pieces : Or, you may
alledge, that obſerving the Glaſs a little cover-
ed with Duft, and going very gently to wipe
F
I
60
Directions to
it, you ſuppoſe the Moiſture of the Air had
diffolved the Glue or Cement, which made it
fall to the Ground : Or, as ſoon as the Mil-
chief is done, you may cut the Cords that
faſtened the Glaſs to the Wainſcot, and ſo let
it fall flat on the Ground; run out in a Fright,
tell your Lady, curſe the Upholſterer ; and de-
clare how narrowly you eſcaped, that it did
not fall upon your Head. I offer thefe Expe-
dients, from a Deſire I have to defend the In-
nocent; for Innocent you certainly muſt be,
if you did not break the Glaſs on purpoſe,
which I would by no Means excuſe, except up-
on great Provocations.
Oil the Tongs, Poker, and Fire-ſhovel up
to the Top, not only to keep them from ruft,
ing, but likewiſe to prevent medling People
from waſting your Maſter's Coals with ſtirring
the Fire.
When you are in haſte, ſweep the Duſt
into a Corner of the Room, but leave your
Bruſh upon it, that it may not be ſeen, for
that would diſgrace you.
Never waſh your Hands, or put on a clean
Apron, until you have made
your Lady's Bed,
for fear of rumpling your Apron, or fouling
your Hands again.
When
youl
bar the Window-ſhuts of
your
Lady's Bed-chamber at Nights, leave open the
Salhes, to let in the freſh Air, and ſweeten the
Room againſt Morning.
In
+
the WAITING -MAID.
61
In the Time when you leave the Windows
open for Air, leave Books, or ſomething elſe on
the Window-ſeat, that they may get Air too.
When
you ſweep your Lady's Room, never
ſtay to pick up foul Smocks, Handkerchiefs,
Pinners, Pin-cuſhions, Tea-ſpoons, Ribbons,
Slippers, or whatever lieth in your Way; but
ſweep all into a Corner, and then you may
take them up in a Lump, and ſave Time.
Making Beds in hot Weather is a very labo-
rious Work, and you will be apt to ſweat;
therefore, when you find the Drops running
down from your Forehead, wipe them off with
a Corner of the Sheet, that they may not be
ſeen on the Bed.
When your Lady ſendeth you to waſh a Chic
na-cup, and it happen to fall, bring it up, and
ſwear you did but juſt touch it with your
Hand, when it broke into three Halves : And
here I muſt inform you, as well as your fellow
Servants, that you ought never to be without
an Excuſe; it doth no Harm to your Maſter,
and it leſſeneth your Fault: As in this Inſtance;
I do not commend you for breaking the Cup;
it is certain you did not break it on purpoſe,
and the Thing is pofiible, that it might break
in your Hand
You are ſometimes deſirous to ſee a Funeral,
a Quarrel, a Man going to be hanged, a Wed-
ding, a Bawd carted, or the like: As they paſs
by in the Street, you lift up the Salh ſuddenly;
there
62
DireEtions to
there by Misfortune it ſticks: This was no
Fault of
yours ; young Women are curious by
Nature ; you have no Remedy, but to cut the
Cord; and lay the Fault upon the Carpenter,
unleſs no Body ſaw you, and then you are as
innocent as any Servant in the Houſe.
Wear your Lady's Smock when ſhe hath
thrown it off; it will do you Credit, fave your
own Linen, and be not a Pin the worſe.
When you put a clean Pillow-caſe on your
Lady's Pillow, be ſure to faſten it well with
three corking Pins, that it may not fall off in
the Night.
When you ſpread Bread and Butter for Tea,
be ſure that all the Holes in the Loaf be left
full of Butter, to keep the Bread moiſt againſt
Dinner; and let the Mark of your Thumb he
ſeen only upon one End of every Slice, to
ſhew your Cleanlineſs.
When you are ordered to open or lock any
Door, Trunk, or Cabinet, and miſs the proper
Key, or cannot diſtinguiſh it in the Bunch;
try the firſt Key that you can thruſt in, and
turn it with all your Strength until
Lock, or break the Key; for your Lady will
reckon you a Fool to come back and do nothing,
you open the
CHAP
the WAITING -MAID.
63
CH AP. IX.
Directions to the WAITING MAID.
T T
WO Accidents have happened to leſſen
the Comforts and Profits of your Em-
ployment; Firſt, that execrable Cuſtom got
among Ladies, of trucking their old Cloaths for
China, or turning them to cover eafy Chairs,
or making them into patch-work for Screens,
Stools, Cuſhions, and the like. The Second
is, the Invention of ſmall Cheſts and Trunks,
with Lock and Key, wherein they keep the
Tea and Sugar, without which it is impoſſible
for a Waiting-maid to live: For, by this
means, you are forced to buy brown Sugar,
and
upon
the Leaves, when they
have loſt all their Spirit and Taſte: I cannot
contrive any perfect Remedy againſt either of
theſe two Evils. As to the former, I think
there ſhould be a general Confederacy of all
the Servants in every Family, for the publick
Good, to drive thoſe China Huckſters from
the Doors; and as to the latter, there is no
other Method to relieve your ſelves, but by a
falſe Key, which is a Point both difficult and
dangerous
pour Water
64
Directions to
other ways,
dangerous to compaſs; but, as to the Circum-
ſtance of Honeſty in procuring one, I am un-
der no Doubt, when your Miſtreſs giveth you ſo
juſt a Provocation, by refuſing you an ancient
and legal Perquiſite. The Miſtreſs of the Tea-
ſhop may now and then give you half an Ounce,
but that will be only a Drop in the Bucket:
Therefore, I fear you muſt be forced, like the
reſt of your Siſters, to run in Truſt, and pay
for it out of your Wages, as far as they will
go, which you can eaſily make up
if your Lady be handſome, or her Daughters
have good Fortunes.
If
you are in a great Family, and my Lady's
Woman, my Lord may probably like you,
although you are not half ſo handſome as his
own Lady. In this caſe, take Care to get as
much out of him as you can; and never allow
him the ſmalleſt Liberty, not the ſqueezing of
your Hand, unleſs he puts a Guinea into it;
ſo, by degrees, make him pay accordingly for
every new Attempt, doubling upon him in pro-
portion to the Conceſſions you allow, and al-
ways ſtruggling, and threatning to cry out, or
tell your Lady, although you receive his Mo-
ney: Five Guineas for handling your Breaſt is
a cheap Pennyworth, although you ſeem to re-
ſiſt with all your Might; but never allow him
the laſt Favour under a hundred Guineas, or
a Settlement of twenty Pounds a Year for
Life.
In
the WAITING-MATD.
65
In ſuch a Family, if you are handſome, you
will have the Choice of three Lovers; the Chap-
lain, the Steward, and my Lord's Gentleman.
I would firſt adviſe you to chuſe the Steward ;
but, if you happen to be young with Child
by my Lord, you muſt take up with the Chap-
lain. I like
iny
Lord's Gentleman the leaſt of
the three; for he is uſually vain and ſawcy from
the Time he throweth off his Livery; and, if he
miſſeth a pair of Colours, or a Tide-waiter's
Place, he hath no Remedy but the Highway.
I muſt caution you particularly againſt my
Lord's eldeſt Son: If you are dextrous enough,
it is odds that you may draw him in to marry
you, and make you a Lady: If he be a com-
mon Rake, or a Fool, (and he muſt be one or
t’other) but, if the former, avoid him like
Satan; for he ſtandeth in leſs Awe of a Mother,
thanmy Lord doth of a Wife; and, after ten thou-
ſand Promiſes, you willget nothing from him, but
abig Belly, or a Clap, and probably both together.
When your Lady is ill, and after a very bad
Night, is getting a little Nap in the Morning,
if a Footman comes with a Meſſage to enquire
how ſhe doth; do not let the Compliment be
loſt, but ſhake her gently until ſhe wakes; then
deliver the Meſſage, receive her Anſwer, and
leave her to ſleep.
If you are ſo happy as to wait on a young
Lady with a great Fortune, you muſt be an
ill Manager if you cannot get five or fix hun-
dred Pounds for diſpoſing of her. Put her of-
ten
66
Directions to
ten in Mind, that ſhe is rich enough to make
any Man happy; that there is no real Happineſs
but in Love ; that ſhe hath Liberty to chuſe
wherever ſhe pleaſeth, and not by the Direction
of Parents, who never give Allowances for an
innocent Paſſion; that there are a World of
handſome, fine, ſweet young Gentlemen in
Town, who would be glad to dic at her Feet;
that the Converſation of two Lovers is a Hea-
ven upon Earth; that Love, like Death, equals
all Conditions ; that if the ſhould caſt her
Eyes upon a young Fellow below her Birth
and Eſtate, his marrying her would make him
a Gentleman; that you faw Yeſterday on the
Mall, the prettieſt Enſign; and, that if you
had forty thouſand Pounds it ſhould be at his
Service. Take care that every Body ſhould
know what Lady you live with ; how great a
Favourite you are; and, that ſhe always taketh
Advice. Go often to St. James's Park,
the fine Fellows will ſoon diſcover you, and
contrive to lip a Letter into your Sleeve or
your Bofom : Pull it oui in a Fury, and throw
it on the Ground, unleſs you find at leaſt two
Guineas along with it; but in that Cafe, ſeem
not to find it, and to think he was only play-
ing the Wag with you:
When
you come home,
drop the Letter careleſsly in your Lady's Cham-
ber; ſhe findeth it, is angry ; proteft you knew
nothing of it, only you remember, that a
Gentleman in the Park ſtruggled to kiſs you,
and you believe it was he that put the Letter
in
your Advice.
the WAITING-MAID. 67
gone down.
in your Sleeve or Pettycoat; and, indeed, he
was as pretty a Man as ever ſhe faw: That ſhe
may burn the Letter if the pleafeth. If your
Lady be wiſe, the will burn ſome other Paper
before
you,
and read the Letter when you are
down. You muſt follow this Practice as
often as you ſafely can; but, let him who
pays you beſt with every Letter, be the hand-
fomeft Man. If a Footman preſumeth to bring
a Letter to the Houſe, to be delivered to you,
for your Lady, although it come from your
beſt Cuſtomer, throw it at his Head; call him
impudent Rogue and Villain, and ſhut the
Door in his Face; run up to your Lady, and,
as a Proof of your Fidelity, tell her what
you
have done.
I could enlarge very much upon this Sub-
ject, but I truſt to your own Diſcretion.
If you ſerve a Lady who is a little diſpoſed
to Gallantries, you will find it a Point of great
Prudence how to manage : Three Things are
neceſſary. Firſt, how to pleaſe your Lady;
Secondly, how to prevent Suſpicion in the
Huſband, or among the Family; and laſtly,
but principally, how to make it moſt for
your
own Advantage. To give you full Directions
in this important Affair, would require a large
Volume. All Affignations at home are dan-
gerous, both to your Lady and your ſelf; and
therefore contrive as much as poſſible, to have
them in a third place; eſpecially, if your Lady,
as it is a hundred odds, entertaineth more Lovers
than
68
Diretions to
than one, each of whom is often incre jealous
than a thouſand Huſbands; and, very unlucky
Rencounters may often happen under the beſt
Management. I need not warn you to employ
your good Offices chiefly in favour of thoſe,
whom you find moſt liberal; yet, if your
Lady ſhould happen to caſt an Eye upon a
handſome Footman, you ſhould be generous
enough to bear with her Humour, which is no
Singularity, but a very natural Appetite: It is
ſtill the ſafeſt of all home Intrigues, and was
formerly the leaſt ſuſpected, until of late Years
it hath grown more common. The great Dan-
ger is, left this kind of Gentry, dealing too of-
ten in bad Ware, may happen not to be found;
and then, your Lady and you are in a very bad
Way, although not altogether deſperate.
But, to ſay the Truth, I confeſs it is a great
Preſumption in me, to offer you any Inſtructi-
ons in the Conduct of your Lady's Amours,
wherein your whole Siſterhood is already ſo
expert, and deeply learned; although it be
much more difficult to compaſs, than that Al-
ſiſtance which my Brother Footmen give their
Maſters, on the like Occafion; and therefore,
I leave this Affair to be treated by ſome abler
Pen.
When
you
lock up a Silk Mantua, or laced
Head in a Trunk or Cheſt, leave a piece out,
that when you open the Trunk again, you may
kaow where to find it.
СНАР
the HOUSE-MAID.
69
CH A P. X.
Direčtions to the House-MAID.
I
F
your Maſter and Lady go into the Coun-
try for a week or more, never waſh the
Bed-chamber or Dining-room, until juſt the
Hour before you expect them to return: Thus,
the Rooms will be perfectly clean to receive
them, and you will not be at the Trouble to
waſh them ſo ſoon again.
I am very much offended with thoſe Ladies,
who are ſo proud and lazy, that they will not
be at the Pains of ſtepping into the Garden to
pluck a Roſe, but keep an odious Implement,
fometimes in the Bed-chamber itſelf, or at leaſt
in a dark Cloſet adjoining, which they make
Uſe of to eaſe their worſt Neceſſities; and, you
are the uſual Carriers away of the Pan, which
maketh not only the Chamber, but even their
Cloaths offenſive, to all who come near. Now,
to cure them of this odious Practice, let me
adviſe you, on whom this Office lieth, to convey
away this Utenſil, that you will do it openly,
down the great Stairs, and in the Preſence of
the Footmen; and, if any Body knocketh, to
срея
70
Directions to
open the Street-door, while you have the Veſtel
filled in your Hands : This, if any Thing can,
will make your Lady take the Pains of evacu-
ating her Perſon in the proper Place, rather
than expoſe her Filthineſs to all the Men Ser-
vants in the Houſe.
Leave a Pail of dirty Water with the Mop
in it, a Coal-box, a Bottle, a Broom; a Cham-
ber-pot, and ſuch other unfightly Things, ei-
ther in a blind Entry, or upon the darkeſt
Part of the Back-ſtairs, that they may not be
ſeen; and, if People break their Shins by tram-
pling on them, it is their own Fault.
Never empty the Chamber-pots until they
are quite full: If that happeneth in the Night,
empty them into the Street; if, in the Morn-
ing, into the Garden; for it would be an end-
leſs Work to go a dozen Times from the Gar-
rets and upper Rooms, down to the Back-fides;
but, never waſh them in any other Liquor ex-
cept their own : What cleanly Girl would be
dabbling in other Folks Urine ? And beſides,
the Smell of Stale, as I obſerved before, is
admirable againſt the Vapours; which, a hun-
dred to one, may be your Lady's Cafe.
Bruſh down the Cobwebs with a Broom that
is wet and dirty, which will make them ſtick
the faſter to it, and bring them down more
effectually
When you rid up the Parlour Hearth in a
Morning, throw the laſt Night's Athes into a
Sieve; and what falls thorough, as you carry it
down,
the HOUSE-MAID.
71
down, will ſerve inſtead of Sand for the Room
and the Stairs.
When you have ſcoured the Braſſes and Irons
in the Parlour Chimney, lay the foul wet
Clout upon the next Chair, that your Lady
may ſee you have not neglected your Work :
Obſerve the ſame Rule, when you clean the
Braſs Locks, only with this addition, to
leave the Marks of your Fingers on the Doors,
to Thew you have not forgot.
Leave your Lady's Chamber-pot in the Bed-
chamber Window, all Day to air.
Bring up none but large Coals to the Dining-
room and your Lady's Chamber; they make
the beſt Fires, and, if you find them too big,
it is eaſy to break them on the Marble Hearth.
When you go to Bed, be ſure take care of
Fire; and therefore blow the Candle out with
your Breath, and then thruſt it under your
Bed. Note, The Smell of the Snuff is very
good againſt Vapours.
Perſuade the Footman who got you
with
Child, to marry you before you are fix Months
gone; and, if your Lady aſketh you, why you
would take a Fellow who was not worth a
Groat? Let your Anſwer be, That Service is
no Inheritance.
When your Lady's Bed is made, put the
Chamber-pot under it, but in ſuch a manner,
as to thruſt the Valance along with it, that it
may be full in Sight, and ready for your Lady
when the hath Occafion to uſe it.
Lock
Vol. VIII.
G
72
Dire&tions to
Lock up a Cat or a Dog in ſome Room or
Cloſet, ſo as to make ſuch a Noiſe all over the
Houſe, as may frighten away the Thieves, if
any ſhould attempt to break or ſteal in.
When
you waih any of the Rooms towards
the Street, over Night, throw the foul Water
out of the Street Door; but, be ſure not to look
before you, for fear thoſe on whom the Water
lighteth, might think you uncivil, and that you
did it on purpoſe. If he who ſuffereth, breaks
the Windows in revenge, and your Lady chideth
you, and giveth poſitive Orders that
you ſhould
carry the Payl down, and empty it in the Sink,
you have an eaſy Remedy. When you waſh
an upper Room, carry down the Payl ſo as to
let the Water dribble on the Stairs all the way
down to the Kitchen; by which, not only your
Load will be lighter, but you will convince
your Lady, that it is better to throw the Wa-
ter out of the Windows, or down the Street-
Door Steps: Beſides, this latter Practice will be
very diverting to you and the Family in a froſty
Night, to ſee a hundred People falling on their
Noſes, or Back-fides before your Door, when
the Water is frozen.
Poliſh and brighten the Marble Hearths and
Chimney-pieces with a Clout dipt in Greaſe ;
nothing makes them ſhine ſo well; and, it is
the Buſineſs of the Ladies to take Care of their
Pettycoats.
If
the CHILDRENS-MAID.
73
!
If
your Lady be ſo nice that ſhe will have
the Room ſcoured with Freeſtone, be ſure to
leave the Marks of the Freeſtone fix Inches
deep round the Bottom of the Wainſcot, that
your Lady may ſee your Obedience to her Or-
ders.
C H A P. XI.
1
Dire&tions to the DAIRY-MAID.
F*
ATIGUE of making Butter : Put ſcald-
ing Water in your Churn, although in
Summer, and churn cloſe to the Kitchen Fire,
and with Cream of a Week old. Keep Cream
for your Sweet-heart.
1
СНАР.
16
-
74
Directions to
CH A P. XII.
Directions to the CHILDRENS-MAID.
IT
F a Child be fick, give it whatever it wanteth
to eat or drink, although particularly for-
bid by the Doctor: For what we long for in
Sickneſs, will do us good; and throw the Phy-
ſick out of the Window; the Child will love
you the better; but bid it not tell. Do the ſame
for your Lady when ſhe longeth for any thing
in Sickneſs, and engage it will do her good.
If your Miſtreſs cometh to the Nurſery, and
offereth to whip a Child, ſnatch it out of her
Hands in a Rage, and tell her, ſhe is the cruelleſt
Mother you ever ſaw: She will chide, but
love you the better. Tell the Children Stories
of Spirits, when they offer to cry, &c.
Be ſure to wean the Children, &c.
1
С НА Р.
the N U R S E.
75
CH A P. XIII.
Directions to the NURSE.
IE
F you happen to let the Child fall, and
lame it, be ſure neyer confeſs it; and, if
it dieth, all is ſafe.
Contrive to be with Child as ſoon as you
can, while you are giving Suck, that you may
be ready for another Service, when the Child
you nurſe dieth, or is weaned.
С НАР.
76
DireEtions to
CHAP. XIV.
Directions to the LAUNDRESS.
IR
F you finge the Linnen with the Iron, rub
the Place with Flour, Chalk, or white
Powder ; and if nothing will do, waſh it ſo
long, till it be either not to be ſeen, or torn to
Rags. Always waſh your own Linen firſt.
About tearing Linnen in walhing,
When your Linnen is pinned on the Line,
or on a Hedge, and it rains, whip it off, al-
though you tear it, &c. But the place for
hanging them, is on young Fruit Trees, el-
pecially in Bloſſom; the Linnen cannot be
torn, and the Trees give them a fine Smell.
CHAP
scuoounts to the House-KEEPER, 8c. 77
CHAP. XV.
Directions to the HOUSE-KEEPER.
YM
OU muſt always have a favourite Foot-
man whom you can depend upon; and
order him to be very watchful when the Sea
cond Courſe is taken off, that it be brought
ſafely to your Office, that you and the Stew-
ard may have a Tit-bit together.
CHAP. XVI.
Directions to the TUTORESS, or
GOVERNESS.
SA
AY the Children have ſore Eyes; Miſs
Betty won't take to her Book, &c.
Make the Miſſes read French and Engliſh
Novels, and French Romances, and all the Co-
medies writ in King Charles II. and King
William's Reigns, to ſoften their Nature, and
make them tender-hearted, &c.
FI NI S,
REASONS
Humbly offered to the
PARLIAMENT of IRELAND,
For REPEALING the
SACRAMENTAL TEST,
In FAVOUR of
The CATHOLICKS, otherwiſe called ROMAN-
CATHOLICKS, and by their Ill-willers,
PAPISTS.
DRAWN
Partly from Arguments as they are CATHOLICKS,
A N D
Partly from Arguments common to them with
their Brethren the Diffenters.
Written in the Style of a Roman Catholick.
LONDON: Printed in the Year 1734. And,
DUBLIN: Printed in the Year 1743.
ADVERTISEMENT.
IN
the Years 1732, and 1733, an Attempt
was made for repealing the Teſt Axt in
Ireland, introductory of a like Attempt in
England. The various Arguments for it were
anſwered in every Shape ; but no way more
effe&tually than by examining what Pretence
the Preſbyterians had to ſhare in all the Privi-
leges of Government, either from their own
Principles and Behaviour, or compared with
thoſe of other Sectaries. Under the former
Head they were fully filenced by our Author
in The Preſbyterians Plea of Merit impartially
examined. They are now put in the Ballance
with Papiſts, whom although they have ſome-
times ſtyled their Brethren in Adverſity, yet
when placed in Competition, they will hate as
Brethren likewiſe. But let them here diſpute
the Preference, and then put in their Claim
to be « Part of the Eſtabliſhment,
[ 83 )
RE A S O N S
Humbly offered to the
PARLIAMENT of IRELAND
For REPEALING the
SACRAMENTAL TEST, &C.
I'
T is well known, that the firſt Conquerors
of this Kingdom were Engliſh Catholicks,
Subjects to Engliſh Catholick Kings, from
whom, by their Valour and Succeſs, they ob-
tained large Portions of Land given them as a
Reward for their many Victories over the Iriſh:
To which Merit our Brethren the Diflenters
of any Denomination whatſoever, have not
the leaſt Pretenſions.
It is confeſſed, that the Poſterity of thoſe
firſt victorious Catholicks were often forced to
riſe in their own Defence, againſt new Colonies
from England, who treated them like mere
native Iriſh, with innumerable Oppreſſions ;
de-
84 The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
depriving them of their Lands, and driving
them by Force of Arms into the moſt deſolate
Parts of the Kingdom ; until in the next
Generation, the Children of theſe Tyrants
were uſed in the ſame manner by new Eng-
liſh Adventurers, which Practice .continued
for many Centuries. But, it is agreed on all
Hands, that no Inſurrections were ever made,
except after great Oppreſſions by freſh Invaders.
Whereas, all the Rebellions of Puritans, Pres-
byterians, Independents, and other Sectaries,
conſtantly began before any Provocations were
given, except that they were not ſuffered to
change the Government in Church and State,
and feize both into their own Hands; which,
however, at laſt they did, with the Murder of
their King, and of many Thouſands of his belt
Subjects.
The Catholicks were always Defenders of
Monarchy, as conſtituted in theſe Kingdoms.
Whereas our Brethren the Dilſenters were al-
ways Republicans, both in Principle and Prac-
tice.
It is well known that all the Catholicks of
theſe Kingdoms, both Prieſts and Laity, are
true Whigs in the beſt and moſt proper Sente
of the Word; bearing as well in their Hearts,
as in their outward Profeſſion, an entire Loy-
alty to the Royal Houſe of Hanover, in the
Perſon and Poſterity of George II. againſt the
Pretender and all his Adherents: To which
they
for repealing the TEST.
85
they think themſelves bound in Gratitude as
well as Conſcience, by the Lenity wherewith
they have been treated ſince the Death of
Queen Anne, ſo different from what they ſuf-
fered in the four laſt Years of that Princeſs,
during the Adminiſtration of that wicked Mi-
niſter, the Earl of Oxford.
The Catholicks of this Kingdom humbly
hope, that they have at leaſt as fair a Title as
any of their Brother Diſſenters, to the Appel-
lation of Proteſtants. They have always pro-
teſted againſt the ſelling, dethroning, or mur-
dering their Kings: Againſt the Ūſurpations
and Avarice of the Court of Rome : Against
Deiſm, Atheiſm, Socinianiſin, Quakeriſm, Mug-
gletonianiſm, Fanaticiſm, Browniſm, as well as
againſt all Fews, Turks, Infidels, and Hereticks.
Whereas, the Title of Proteſtants aſſumed by
the whole Herd of Diſſenters (except our-
ſelves) dependeth entirely upon their proteſting
againſt Archbiſhops, Biſhops, Deans, and Chap-
ters, with their Revenues; and the whole Hie..
rarchy; which are the very Expreſſions uſed
in The Solemn League and Covenant, where the
Word Popery is only mentioned ad invidiam;
becauſe the Catholicks agree with the Epiſcopal
Church in thoſe Fundamentals.
Although the Catholicks cannot deny, that
in the great Rebellion againſt King Charles I.
more Soldiers of their Religion were in the
Parliament Army than in his Majeſty's Troops;
and
86 The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons.
and that many Jeſuits and Fryars went about
in the Diſguiſe of Preſbyterian and Independent
Miniſters, to preach up Rebellion, as the beſt
Hiſtorians of thoſe Times inform us ; yet, the
Bulk of Catholicks in both Kingdoms preſerved
their Loyalty entire.
The Catholicks have ſome Reaſon to think it
a little hard, when their Enemies will not
pleaſe to diſtinguiſh between the rebellious
Riot committed by that brutal Ruffian, Sir
Pbelim O Neal with his tumultuous Crew of
Rabble ; and the Forces raiſed afterwards by
the Catholick Lords and Gentlemen of the
Engliſh Pale, in Defence of the King after
the Engliſh Rebellion began. It is well known,
that His Majeſty's Affairs were in great Diſtrac-
tion ſome time before, by an Invaſion of the
Coyenanting, Scottiſh, Kirk Rebels, and by the
baſe Terms the King was forced to accept,
that they might be kept in quiet, at a Junc-
ture when he was every Hour threatned at
home by that Fanatick Party, which ſoon af-
ter ſet all in a Flame. And, if the Catholick
Army in Ireland fought for their King againſt
the Forces ſent over by the Parliament, then
in actual Rebellion againſt him; what Perſon
of loyal Principles can be ſo partial to deny,
that they did their Duty, by joining with the
Marquis of Ormond, and other Commanders,
who bore their Commiſſions from the King ?
For which, great Numbers of them loſt their
Lives,
for repealing the TEST. 87
Lives, and forfeited their Eſtates; a great
Part of the latter being now poſſeſſed by many
Deſcendants from thoſe very Men who had
drawn their Swords in the Service of that re-
bellious Parliament, which cut off his Head,
and deſtroyed Monarchy. And, what is more
amazing, although the fame Perſons, when
the Iriſh were entirely ſubdued, continued in
Power under the Rump; were chief Confidents,
and faithful Subjects to Cromwell
, yet being
wiſe enough to foreſee a Reſtoration, they
ſeized the Forts and Caſtles here out of the
Hands of their old Brethren in Rebellion, for
the Service of the King; juſt ſaving the Tide,
and putting in a Stock of Merit, fufficient not
only to preſerve the Lands which the Catho-
licks loft by their Loyalty; but likewiſe to
preſerve their Civil and Military Employments,
or be higher advanced.
Thofe Inſurrections wherewith the Catholicks
are charged from the Beginning of the Seven-
teenth Century to the great Engliſh Rebellion,
were occaſioned by many Oppreſſions they lay
under. They had no Intention to introduce a
new Religion, but to enjoy the Liberty of pre-
ſerving the old; the very fame which their
Anceſtors profeſſed from the Time that Chriſti-
anity was firſt introduced into this Iſland,
which was by Catholicks; but whether min-
gled with Corruptions, as ſome pretend, doth
not belong to the Queſtion. They had no
Delign
88
The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
ز
Deſign to change the Government; they never
attempted to fight againſt, to impriſon, to be-
tray, to ſell, to bring to a Tryal, or to mur-
der their King. The Schiſmaticks acted by a
Spirit directly contrary; they united in a So-
lemn League and Covenant, to alter the whole
Syſtem of Spiritual Government, eſtabliſhed
in all Chriſtian Nations, and of Apoſtolick In-
ſtitution ; concluding the Tragedy with the
Murder of the King in cold Blood, and upon
mature Deliberation ; at the ſame time chang-
ing the Monarchy into a Commonwealth.
We allow the Catholicks to be Brethren of
the Diſſenters; ſome People, indeed, (which
we cannot allow) would have them to be our
Children, becauſe we both diffent from the
Church eſtabliſhed, and both agree in abo-
liſhing this perſecuting Sacramental Teſt; by
which negative Diſcouragement we are both
rendered incapable of Civil and Military Em-
ployments. However, we cannot but wonder
at the bold Familiariiy of theſe Schiſmaticks,
in calling the Members of the National Church
their Brethren and Fellow Proteſtants. It is
true, that all theſe Sects (except the Catholicks)
are Brethren to each other in Faction, Igno-
rance, Iniquity, Perverſeneſs, Pride, and (if
we except the Quakers) in Rebellion. But,
how the Churchmen can be ſtyled their Fel-
low Proteſtants, we cannot comprehend. Be-
cauſe, when the whole Babel of Sectaries join-
ed
1
7
for repealing the TEST. 89
ed againſt the Church, the King, and the
Nobility for twenty Years, in a MATCH AT
Foot BALL; where the Proverb expreſly tells
us, that All are FELLOWS; while the three
Kingdoms were toſſed to and fro, the Churches,
and Cities, and Royal Palaces ſhattered to
Pieces by their Balls, their Buffets, and their
Kicks; the Victors would allow no more
FELLOWS AT Foot BALL : But murdered,
ſequeſtered, plundered, deprived, baniſhed to
the Plantations, or enſlaved all their Oppoſers
who had loſt the Game.
It is ſaid the World is governed by Opinion ;
and Politicians aſſure us, that all Power is
founded thereupon. Wherefore, as all human
Creatures are fond to Diſtraction of their own
Opinions, and ſo much the more, as thoſe
Opinions are abſurd, ridiculous, or of little
Moment; it muſt follow, that they are equally
fond of Power. But, no Opinions are main-
tained with ſo much Obſtinacy as thoſe in Re-
ligion, eſpecially by ſuch Zealots who never
bore the leaſt Regard to Religion, Conſcience,
Honour, Juſtice, Truth, Mercy, or common
Morality, farther than in outward Appearance;
under the Maſk of Hypocriſy, to promote
their diobolical Deſigns. And, therefore, Bi-
ſhop Burnet, one of their Oracles, tells us ho-
neſtly, that the Saints of thoſe Fanatick Times,
pronounced themſelves above Morality; which
they reckoned among beggarly Elements; but
the
90
The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
the Meaning of thoſe two laſt Words thus
ap-
plied, we confeſs to be above our Underſtand-
Hig.
Among thoſe Kingdoms and States which
firſt embraced the Reformation, England ap-
pears to have received it in the moſt regular
Way; where it was introduced in a peaceable
Manner, by the ſupreme Power of a King,
and the three Eſtates in Parliament; to which,
as the higheſt legiſlative Authority, all Subjects
are bound paſſively to ſubmit: Neither was
there much Blood ſhed on ſo great a Change of
Religion. But, a conſiderable Number of Lords,
and other Perſons of Quality through the King-
dom, ſtill continued in their old Faith, and were,
notwithſtanding their Difference in Religion,
employed in Offices Civil as well as Military,
more or leſs in every Reign, until the Teſt Act
in the Time of King Charles II. However,
from the Time of the Reformation, the Num-
ber of Catholicks gradually and conſiderably lef-
ſened. So, that in the Reign of King Charles I.
England became, in a great Degree, a Proteſtant
Kingdom, without taking the Sectaries into the
Number; the Legality whereof, with reſpect
to human Laws, the Catholicks never diſputed:
But, the Puritans, and other Schiſmaticks,
without the leaſt Pretence to any ſuch Autho-
rity, by an open Rebellion, deſtroyed that le-
gal Reformation, as we obſerved before, mur-
dered their King, and changed the Monarchy
into
for repealing the TEST.
97
into a Republick. It is therefore not to be
wondered at, if the Catholicks, in ſuch a Babel
of Religions, choſe to adhere to their own
Faith left them by their Anceſtors, rather than
feek for a better among a Rabble of hypocriti-
cal, rebellious, deluding Knaves, or deluded
Enthuſiaſts.
We repeat once more, that if a national Re-
ligion be changed by the ſupreme Legiſlative
Power, we cannot diſpute the human Legality
of ſuch a Change. But, we humbly conceive,
that if any conſiderable Party of Men which
differs from an Eſtabliſhment, either old or
new, can deferve Liberty of Conſcience; it
ought to conſiſt of thoſe who for want of Con-
viction, or of a right underſtanding the Merits
of each Cauſe, conceive themſelves bound in
Conſcience to adhere to the Religion of their
Anceſtors ; becauſe they are of all others leaſt
likely to be Authors of Innovations, either in
Church or State.
On t'other Side ; If the Reformation of Re-
ligión be founded upon Rebellion againſt the
King, without whofe Conſent, by the Nature
of our Conſtitution, no Law can paſs : If this
Reformation be introduced by only one of the
three Eſtates, I mean the Commons, and not
by one half even of thoſe Commons; and this
by the Aſliſtance of a rebellious Army: Again,
if this Reformation were carried on by the Ex-
cluſion of Nobles both Lay and Spiritual (who
Con.
92
The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
conſtitute the two other parts of the three
Eſtates) by the Murder of their King, and by
aboliſhing the whole Syſtem of Government';
the Catholicks cannot ſee why the Succeſſors of
thoſe Schiſmaticks, who are univerſally accuſed
by all Parties except themſelves, and a few in-
famous Abetters, for ſtill retaining the ſame
Principles in Religion and Government, under
which their Predeceſſors acted; ſhould pretend
to a better Share of Civil or Military Truſt,
Profit and Power than the Catholicks; who du-
ring all that Period of twenty Years, were con-
tinually perſecuted with utmoſt Severity, mere-
ly on account of their Loyalty and conſtant
Adherence to kingly Power.
We now come to thoſe Arguments for re-
pealing the Sacramental Teſt, which equally af-
fect the Catholicks, and their Brethren the Dif-
fenters.
Firſt, We agree with our Fellow-Difſenters
that * Perſecution merely for Conſcience Sake, is
againſt the Genius of the Goſpel. And ſo like-
wiſe is any Law for depriving Men of their na-
tural and civil Rights which they claim as Men.
We are alſo ready enough to allow, that the
ſmalleſt negative Diſcouragements for Uniformi-
ty's Sake are ſo many Perſecutions. Becauſe, it
cannot be denied, that the Scratch of a Pin is
in ſome Degree a real Wound, as much as a
Stab
* Vid. Reaſons for the Repeal of the Sacramental Teft.
for repealing the TEST.
93
Stab through the Heart. In like manner, an
Incapacity by Law for any Man to be made a
Judge, à Colonel, or Juſtice of the Peace,
merely on a Point of Conſcience, is a negative
Diſcouragement, and conſequently a real Perſe-
cution : For, in this caſe, the Author of the
Pamphlet quoted in the of Margin puts a very
pertinent and powerful Queſtion: That, If God
be the ſole Lord of the Conſcience, why should the
Rights of Conſcience be ſubječt to human Jurif-
diction? Now to apply this to the Catholicks :
The Belief of Tranſubſtantiation is a Matter
purely of Religion and Conſcience, which doth not
affect the political Intereſt of Society as ſuch.
Therefore, Why ſhould the Rights of Conſcience,
whereof God is the fole LORD, be ſubječt to hu-
man Juriſdi&tion ? And why ſhould God be
deprived of this Right over a Catholick's Con-
ſcience, any more than over that of any other
Diſfenter?
And, whereas another Author among our
Brethren the Diffenters, hath very juſtly com-
plained, that by this perfecuting Teſt Act,
great Numbers of true Proteſtants have been
forced to leave the Kingdom, and fly to the
Plantations, rather than ſtay here BRANDED
with an Incapacity for Civil and Military Em-
ployments; we do affirm, that the Catholicks
can bring many more Inſtances of the fame
VOL. VIII.
L
Kind;
Vide, Reaſons for the Repeal of the Sacramental Teit.
1
94 The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
Kind; fome Thouſands of their Religion have-
ing been forced by the Sacramental Teſt, to re-
tire into other Countries, rather than live here
under the Incapacity of wearing Swords, ſitting
in Parliament, and getting that Share of Power
and Profit which belongs to them as Fellow
Chriſtians, whereof they are deprived merely
upon Account of Conſcience, which would not al-
low them to take the Sacrament after the manner
preſcribed in the Liturgy. Hence it clearly fol-
lows in the Words of the ſame * Author,
That if we Catholicks are uncapable of Employ-
ments, we are puniſhed for our Dillent, that is,
for our Conſcience, which wholly turns upon poli-
tical Conſiderations.
The Catholicks are willing to acknowledge
the King's Supremacy, whenever their Brethren
the Diffenters ſhall pleaſe to ſhew them an
Example
Further, The Catholicks, whenever their
Religion ſhall come to be the national eftabliſh-
ed Faith, are willing to undergo the fame Teſt
offered by the Author already quoted. His
Words are theſe: To end this Debate, by putting
it upon a Foot which I hope will appear to every
impartial Perfon a fair and equitable one ; We
Catholicks propoſe, with Submiſſion to the proper
Judges, that effectual Security be taken againſt
Perſecution, by obliging all who are admitted in-
to Places of Power and Truſt, whatever their
religious
* See Reaſons againſt the Teft.
for repealing the TEST.
95
religious Profeſion be, in the moſt folemn manner
to diſclaim perſecuting Principles. It is hoped
the Publick will take Notice of theſe Words ;
Whatever their religious Profeſion be; which
plainly includes the Catholicks; and for which
we return Thanks to our Diſenting Brethren.
And, whereas it is objected by thoſe of the
eſtabliſhed Church, that if the Schiſmaticks
and Fanaticks were once put into a Capacity of
poſſeſſing Civil and Military Employments ;
they would never be at eaſe till they had raiſed
their own way of Worſhip into the National
Religion through all His Majeſty's Dominions,
equal with the true Orthodox Scottiſh Kirk;
which, when they had once brought to paſs,
they would no more allow Liberty of Conſci-
ence to Epiſcopal Diffenters, than they did in
the Time of the great Engliſ Rebellion, in
the ſucceeding Fanatick Anarchy, until the
King was reſtored,
There is another very
learned ſchiſmatical * Pamphleteer, who in an-
ſwer to a malignant Libel, called, The Preſby-
terians Plea of Merit, &c. clearly wipes off
this Aſperſion; by aſſuring all Epiſcopal Pro-
teſtants of the preſent Church, upon his own
Word, and to his own Knowledge, that our
Brethren the Diflenters will never offer at ſuch
an Attempt. In like manner, the Catholicks
when legally required, will openly declare 14pon
their Words and Honou!!'s, that as ſoon as their
L 2
negative
* Vindication of the Proteſtant Diffeuters.
96 The ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
negative Diſcouragements and their Perſecution
ſhall be removed by repealing the Sacramental
Teſt, they will leave it entirely to the Merits
of the Cauſe, whether the Kingdom ſhall think
fit to make their Faith the eſtabliſhed Religion
or not.
And again, Whereas our Preſbyterian Bre-
thren in many of their Pamphlets, take much
Offence, that the great Rebellion in England,
the Murder of the King, with the entire Change
of Religion and Government, are perpetually
objected againſt them both in and out of Sea-
ſon, by our common Enemy, the preſent Con-
formiſts: We do declare in the Defence of our
ſaid Brethren, that the Reproach aforeſaid is an
old worn-out thread-bare Cant, which they al-
ways diſdained to anſwer : And, I very well
remember, that, having once told a certain
Conformiſt, how much I wondered to hear
him and his Tribe, dwelling perpetually on fo
beaten a Subject; he was pleaſed to divert the
Diſcourſe with a fooliſh Story, which I cannot
forbear telling to his Diſgrace. He ſaid, there
was a Clergyman in Yorkſhire, who for fifteen
Years together preached every Sunday againſt
Drunkenneſs: Whereat the Pariſhioners being
much offended, complained to the Archbiſhop;
who, having ſent for the Clergyman, and ſe-
verely reprimanded him, the Miniſter had no
better an Anſwer, than by confeſſing the Fact;
adding, that all the Pariſh were Drunkards ;
that he deſired to reclaim them from one Vice
before
|
for repealing the TEST.
97
before he would begin upon another; and,
ſince they ſtill continued to be as great Drun-
kards as before, he reſolved to go on, except
his Grace would pleaſe to forbid hin.
We are very ſenſible how heavy an Accuſa-
tion lyeth upon the Catholicks of Ireland; that
ſome Years beforc King Charles II. was re-
ſtored, when theirs and the King's Forces were
entirely reduced, and the Kingdom declared by
the Rump to be ſettled; after all His Majeſty's
Generals were forced to fly to France, or other
Countries, the Heads of the ſaid Catholicks who
remained here in an enſlaved Condition, joined
to ſend an Invitation to the Duke of Lorrain;
engaging, upon his appearing here with his
Forces, to deliver up the whole Iſland to his
Power, and declare him their Sovereign; which,
after the Reſtoration, was proved againſt them
by Dean Boyle, ſince Primate, who produced
the very original Inſtrument at the Board. The
Catholicks freely acknowledge the Fact to be
true; and, at the ſame Time appeal to all the
World, whether a wiſer, a better, a more ho-
nourable, or a more juſtifiable Project could
have been thought of. They were then re-
duced to Slavery and Beggary by the Engliſh
Rebels, many Thouſands of them murdered,
the reſt deprived of their Eſtates, and driven
to live on a ſmall Pittance in the Wilds of C012-
naught; at a Time when either the Runp or
Cromwell abſolutely governed the three King-
doms. And the Queſtion will turn upon this,
Whe-
98
Tlje ROMAN CATHOLICKS Reaſons
Whether the Catholicks, deprived of all their
Poſſeſſions, governed with a Rod of Iron, and
in utter Deſpair of ever ſeeing the Monarchy
reſtored, for the Preſervation of which they
had ſuffered ſo much, were to be blamed for
calling in a foreign Prince of their own Reli-
gion, who had a conſiderable Army to ſupport
them ; rather than ſubmit to ſo infamous an
Uſurper as Cromwell, or ſuch a bloody and ig-
nominious Conventicle as the Rump. And, I
I
have often heard, not only our Friends the Dif-
ſenters, but even our cornmon Enemy the Con-
formiſts, who are converſant in the Hiſtory of
thoſe Times, freely confeſs, that conſidering
the miſerable Situation the Iriſh were then in,
they could not have thought of a braver or
more virtuous Attempt; by which they might
have been Inſtruments of reſtoring the lawful
Monarch, at leaſt to the Recovery of England
and Scotland, from thoſe Betrayers, and Sellers,
and Murderers of his Royal Father.
To conclude, Whereas the laſt quoted Au-
thor complains very heavily and frequently of a
BRAND that lyes upon them, it is a great Mi-
ſtake: For, the firſt original BRAND hath been
long taken off. Only we confeſs, the Scar will
probably remain and be viſible for ever to thoſe
who know the Principles by which they acted,
and until thoſe Principles ſhall be openly re-
nounced; elſe it muſt continue to all Genera-
tions, like the Mark ſet upon Cain, which
ſome Authors ſay, deſcended to all his Poſterity:
for repealing the TEST.
99
Or, like the Roman Noſe and Auſtrian Lip, or
like the long Bag of Fleſh hanging down from
the Gills of the People in Piedmont. But, as
for
any
Brands fixed on Schifmaticks for ſeveral
Years paſt, they have been all made with cold
Iron; like Thieves, who by the BENEFIT OF
THE CLERGY are condemned to be only burn-
ed in the Hand; but eſcape the Pain and the
Mark, by being in Fee with the JAYLOR.
Which Advantage the Schiſmatical Teachers
will never want; who, as we are aſſured, and
of which there is a very freſh Inſtance, have
the Souls, and Bodies, and Purſes of their
People a hundred times more at their Mercy,
than the Catholick Prieſts could ever pretend to.
Therefore, upon the whole, the Catholicks
do humbly petition (without the leaſt Infnuation
of Threatening) that upon this favourable Junc-
ture, their Incapacity for Civil and Military Em-
ployments may be wholly taken off, for the
very ſame Reaſons (beſides others more cogent)
that are now offered by their Brethren the Dif-
ſenters.
And your Petitioners, as in Duty bound,
mall ever pray, &c.
Dublin, Nov. 1733.
SOME
SO ME
REASONS
AGAINST THE
BILL
FOR
Settling the Tythe of Hemp, ,
Flax, &c. by a Modus
Written in the Year 1734.
1
ADVERTISEMENT.
IN the Year 1734, a Bill was brought into
the Houſe of Commons, to ſettle a Modus,
inſtead of the Tythe on Flax, &c. upon which
czany eminent Clergymen, who oppoſed that
Scheme, applyed themſelves to the Dean to write
egainſ it, which he readily conſented to, upon
their giving him fome Hints; and in two Days
after, the following Reaſons were preſented to
Feucral Members of Parliament, and had so
food an Effeet, that the Bill was dropped.
-
( 103 )
SOM E
R E A S O N S
AGAINST
The Bill for ſettling the Tythe of
Hemp, Flax, &c. by a Modus.
T
HE Clergy did little expect to have any
Cauſe of Complaint againſt the preſent
Houſe of Commons; who, in the laſt
Seſſions were pleaſed to throw out a Bill ſent
them from the Lords, which that Reverend
Body apprehended would be very injurious to
them, if it paſſed into a Law: And who, in
the preſent Seſſions, defeated the Arts and En.
deavours of Schiſmaticks to repeal the Sacra.
mental Teſt.
For, although it hath been allowed on all
Hands, that the former of thoſe Bills might,
by its neceſſary Conſequences, be very difplea-
ſing to the Lay Gentlemen of the Kingdom,
for many Reaſons purely Secular ; and, that
this laſt Attempt for repealing the Teſt, did
much more affect, at preſent, the Temporal
Intereſt
104
REASONS againſt ſettling
Intereſt than the Spiritual; yet the whole Body
of the lower Clergy have, upon both thoſe
Occaſions, expreſſed equal Gratitude to that
honourable Houſe, for their Juſtice and Steadi-
neſs, as if the Clergy alone were to receive the
Benefit.
It muſt needs be therefore a great Addition
to the Clergy's Grief, that ſuch an Aſſembly as
the preſent Houſe of Commons; 1hould now,
with an Expedition more than uſual, agree to
a Bill for encouraging the Linen Manufacture;
with a Clauſe, whereby the Church is to loſe
two Parts in three, of the legal Tythe in Flax
and Hemp.
Some Reaſons why the Clergy think ſuch a
Law will be a great Hardſhip on them, are, I
conceive, thoſe that follow. I ſhall venture to
enumerate them with all Deference due to that
honourable Aſſembly.
Firſt, The Clergy ſuppoſe, that they have
not, by any Fault or Demerit, incurred the
Diſpleaſure of the Nation's Repreſentatives :
Neither can the declared Loyalty of the preſent
Set, from the higheſt Prelate to the loweſt
Vicar, be in the leaſt diſputed : Becauſe, there
are hardly ten Clergymen through the whole
Kingdom, for more than nineteen Years paſt,
who have not been either preferred entirely
upon account of their declared Affection to the
Hanover Line; or higher promoted as the due
Reward of the fame Merić.
There
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 105
There is not a Landlord in the whole King-
dom, reſiding ſome part of the Year at his
Country Seat, who is not, in his own Conſci-
ence, fully convinced, that the Tythes of his
Miniſter have gradually funk, for ſome Years
part, one Third, or at leaſt one Fourth of their
former Value, excluſive of all Nonſolvencies.
The Payment of Tythes in this Kingdom,
is ſubject to ſo many Frauds, Brangles, and o-
ther Difficulties, not only from Papiſts and
Dilſenters, but even from thoſe who profeſs
themſelves Proteſtants; that by the Expence,
the Trouble, and Vexation of collecting or
bargaining for them, they are, of all other
Rents, the moſt precarious, uncertain, and ill
paid.
The Landlords in moſt Pariihes expect, as a
Compliment, that they ſhall pay little more
than half the Value of their Tythes for the
Lands they hold in their own Hands; which
often conſiſts of large Domains : And, it is the
Miniſter's Intereſt to make them eaſy upon
that
Article, when he conſiders what Influence thoſe
Gentlemen have upon their Tenants.
The Clergy cannot but think it extremely
ſevere, that in a Bill for encouraging the Linen
Manufacture, they alone muſt be the Sufferers,
who can leaſt afford it: If, as I am told, there
be a Tax of three thouſand Pounds a Year,
paid by the Publick, for a further Encourage-
ment to the ſaid Manufacture; are not the
Clergy equal Sharers in the Charge with the
ref
106 REASONS againſt ſettling
reſt of their Fellow Subjects? What ſatisfacto-
ry
Reaſon can be therefore given, why they a-
lone ſhould bear the whole additional Weight,
unleſs it will be alledged, that their Property
is not upon an equal Foot with the Properties
of other Men. They acquire their own ſmall
Pittance, by at leaſt as honeſt Means as their
Neighbours the Landlords poſſeſs their Eſtates;
and, have been always ſuppoſed, except in re-
bellious or fanatical Times, to have as good
a Title: For, no Families now in being, can
thew a more ancient. Indeed, if it be true,
that ſome Perſons (I hope they were not many)
were ſeen to laugh when the Rights of the
Clergy were mentioned ; in this Caſe, an Opi-
nion may poſſibly be foon advanced, that they
have no Right at all. And, this is likely enough
to gain Ground, in Proportion as the Contempt
of all Religion ſhall increaſe, which is already
in a very forward Way.
It is ſaid, there will be alſo added in this
Bill, a Clauſe for diminiſhing the Tythe of
Hops, in order to cultivate that uſeful Plant
among us : And here, likewiſe, the Load is
to lye entirely on the Shoulders of the Clergy,
while the Landlords reap all the Benefit. It
will not be eaſy to foreſee where ſuch Proceed-
ings are like to ſtop: Or, whether by the fame
Authority, in civil Times, a Parliament may
not as juſtly challenge the ſame Power, in re-
ducing all Things tytheable, not below the
tenth Part of the Product (which is, and ever
will
!
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 107
will be the Clergy's equitable Right) but from
a tenth Part to a ſixtieth or eightieth, and from
thence to nothing.
that the Practice of taxing the Clergy by Par-
liament, without their own Conſent, is a new
thing, not much above the Date of ſeventy
Years: Before which Period, in Times of
Peace, they always taxed themſelves. But
things are extremely altered at preſent: It is
not now ſufficient to tax them in common with
their Fellow Subjects, without impoſing an ad-
ditional Tax upon them, from which, or from
any thing equivalent, all their Fellow Subjects
are exempt; and this in a Country profeſſing
Chriſtianity.
The greateſt Part of the Clergy throughout
this Kingdom, have been ſtripped of their
Glebes by the Confuſion of Times, by Vio-
lence, Fraud, Oppreſſion, and other unlawful
Means: All which Glebes are now in the Hands
of the Laity; ſo that, they now are generally
forced to lye at the Mercy of Landlords, for a
ſmall piece of Ground in their Pariſhes, at a
moſt exorbitant Rent, and uſually for a ſhort
Term of Years ; whereon to build a Houſe,
and enable them to reſide. Yet, in Spight of
theſe Diſadvantages, I am a Witneſs that they
are generally more conſtant Reſidents than their
Brethren in England; where the meaneſt Vicu
hath a convenient Dwelling, with a Barn, a
Garden, and a Field or two for his Cattle ;
108
REASONS againſt the
.
beſides the Certainty of his little Income from
honeſt Farmers, able and willing not only to
pay him his Dues, but likewiſe to make him
Preſents, according to their Ability, for his bet-
ter Support. In all which Circumſtances, the
Clergy of Ireland meet with a Treatment di-
rectly contrary.
It is hoped the honourable Houſe will con-
ſider, that it is impoſſible for the moſt ill-
minded, avaricious, or cunning Clergyman, to
do the leaſt Injuſtice to the meaneſt Cottager
in his Pariſh, in any Bargain for Tythes, or 0-
ther Ecclefiaftical Dues. He can, at the ut-
moſt, only demand to have his Tythe fairly
laid out; and doth not once in a hundred
Times obtain his Demand. But every Tenant,
from the pooreſt Cottager to the moſt ſubſtan-
tial Farmer, can, and generally doth, impoſe
upon the Miniſter, by Fraud, by Theft, by
I yes, by Perjuries, by Inſolence, and ſome-
times by Force; notwithſtanding the utmoſt
Vigilance and Skill of himſelf and his Proctor.
Infomuch, that it is allowed, that the Clergy
in general receive little more than one half of
their legal Dues; not including the Charges
they are at in collecting or bargaining for them.
The Land Rents of Ireland are computed to
about two Millions, whereof one Tenth amounts
to two hundred thouſand Pounds. The bene-
riced Clergymen, excluding thoſe of this City,
are not reckoned to be above five hundred; by
which Computation, they ſhould each of them
poflets
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 1og
poſſeſs two hundred Pounds a Year, if thoſe
Tythes were equally divided, although in well
cultivated Corn Countries it ought to be more;
whereas, they hardly receive one half of that
Sum, with great Defalcations, and in very bad
Payments. There are indeed, a few Glebes in
the North pretty conſiderable; but, if theſe,
and all the reſt, were in like manner equally
divided, they would not add five Pounds a
Year to every Clergyman. Therefore, whe-
ther the Condition of the Clergy in general
ao
mong us be juſtly liable to Envy, or able to
bear a heavy Burthen, which neither the No-
bility, nor Gentry, nor Tradeſmen, nor Farmers,
will touch with one of their Fingers; this, I
fay, is ſubmitted to the honourable Houſe.
One terrible Circumſtance in this Bill, is that
of turning the Tythe of Flaxand Hemp into what
the Lawyers call a Modus, or a certain Sum
in lieu of a tenih Part of the Product : And,
,
by this Practice of claiming a Modus in many
Pariſhes by antient Cuſtom, the Clergy in both
Kingdoms have been almoſt incredible
Sufferers.
Thus, in the preſent Caſe, the Tythe of a to-
lerable Acre of Flax, which by a Medium is
worth twelve Shillings, is by the preſent Bill
reduced to four Shillings. Neither is this the
worſt Part in a Modus; every deterininate Sum
muſt, in proceſs of Time, ſink from a fourth to
a four and twentieth Part, or a great deal
lower, by that neceſſary Fall attending the Va-
lue of Money, which is now at leaſt nine
VOL. VIII.
MI
Tenths
BIO
REASON'S againſt ſettling
Tenths lower all over Europe than it was four
hundred Years ago, by a gradual Decline; and
even a third Part, at leaſt, within our own
Memories, in purchaſing almoſt every thing
required for the Neceſſities or Conveniencies of
Life; as any Gentleman can atteſt, who hath
kept Houſe for twenty Years paſt: And this
will equally affect poor Countries, as well as
rich. For, although I look upon it as an Im-
poſſibility that this Kingdom ſhould ever thrive
under its preſent Diſadvantages, which without
a Miracle muſt ſtill increaſe ; yet, when the
whole Caſh of the Nation ſhall ſink to fifty
thouſand Pounds, we muſt in all our Traffick
abroad, either of Import or Export, go by the
general Rate at which Money is valued in thoſe
Countries that enjoy the common Privileges of
human Kind. For this Reaſon, no Corporati-
on (if the Clergy may preſume to call them-
felves one) ſhould by any means grant away
their Properties in Perpetuity upon any Conſi-
deration whatſoever: Which is a Rock that
many Corporations have ſplit upon, to their
great Impoveriſhment, and ſometimes to their
utter Undoing. Becauſe, they are ſuppoſed to
ſubſiſt for ever; and, becauſe no Determina-
tion of Money is of any certain perpetual in-
trinſick Value. This is known enough in Eng-
lond, where Eſtates let for ever, ſome hun-
dred Years ago, by ſeveral antient noble Fa-
milies, do not at this preſent pay their Poſterity
a
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 11
a twentieth Part of what they are now worth
at an eaſy Rent.
A Tax aifecting one Part of a Nation, which
already bears its full Share in all Parliamentary
Impofitions, cannot poſſibly be juſt, except it
be inflicted as a Punilhment upon that Body of
Men which is taxed, for ſome great Demerit,
or Danger to the Publick, apprehended from
thoſe upon whom it is laid : Thus, the Papiſts
and Non-Jurors have been doubly taxed for re-
fuſing to give proper Securities to the Govern-
ment; which cannot be objected againſt the
Clergy. And therefore, if this Bill ſhould
paſs; I think it ought to be with a Preface,
Thewing wherein they have offended, and for
what Difaffection or other Crime they are pu-
niſhed.
If an additional Exciſe upon Ale, or a Daty
upon Fleſh and Bread, were to be enacted,
neither the Victualler, Butcher, or Baker would
bear any more of the Charge, than for what
theinſelves conſumed; but, it would be an e-
qual general Tax through the whole Kigdom:
Whereas, by this Bill, the Clergy alone are
avowedly condemned to be deprived of their
antient, inherent, undiſputed Rights, in order
to encourage a Manufacture, by which all the
reſt of the Kingdom are ſuppoſed to be Gainers.
This Bill is directly againſt Magna Charta,
wliereof the firſt Clauſe is for confirming the
inviolable Rights of Holy Church ; as well as
M
con-
II2
Reasons againſt ſettling
contrary to the Oath taken by all our Kings at
their Coronation, where they ſwear to defend
and protect the Church in all Rights.
A Tax laid upon Employments is a very dif-
ferent Thing. The Poffeffors of Civil and Mi-
litary Employments are no Corporation ; nei-
ther are they any part of our Conſtitution :
Their Salaries, Pay, and Perquiſites are all
changeable at the Pleaſure of the Prince who
beſtows them, although the Army be paid
from Funds raiſed and appropriated by the Le-
giſlature : But, the Clergy, as they have little
Reaſon to expect, ſo they deſire no more than
their ancient legal Dues; only indeed with the
Removal of many grievous Impediments in
the Collection of them; which, it is to be
feared, they muſt wait for until more favoura-
ble Times. It is well known, that they have
already, of their own Accord, ſhewn great In-
dulgence to their People upon this very Article
of Flax, ſeidom taking above a fourth Part of
their Tythe for ſmall Parcels, and oftentimes
nothing at all from new Beginners; waiting
with Patience until the Farmers were able, and
until greater Quantities of Land were employed
in that Part of Huſbandry; never ſuſpecting
that their good Intentions ſhould be perverted
in ſo fingular a Manner to their Detriment, by
that very Aſſembly, which, during the Time
that Convocations (which are an original Part of
our Conſtitution, ever ſince Chriſtianity became
National among us) are thought fit to be fuf-
pended
i
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 113
pended, God knows for wliat Reaſon, or from
what Provocations; I ſay from that very Af-
ſembly, who, during the Intervals of Convo-
cations, ſhould rather be ſuppoſed to be Guar-
dians of the Rights and Properties of the Clergy,
than to make the leaſt Attempt upon either.
I have not heard, upon Enquiry, that any of
thoſe Gentlemen, who, among us without
Doors, are called the Court-Party, diſcover the
leaſt Zeal in this Affair. If they had Thoughts
to interpoſe, it might be conceived they would
ihew their Diſpleaſure againſt this Bill, which
muſt
very
much leſſen the Value of the King's
Patronage upon Promotion to vacant Sees; in
the Diſpoſal of Deanries, and other conſidera-
ble Preferments in the Church, which are in
the Donation of the Crown; whereby the
Viceroys will have fewer good Preferments to
beſtaw on their Dependents, as well as upon
the Kindred of Members, who may have a
ſufficient Stock of that Sort of Merit, what.
ever it may be, which may in future Times
moſt prevail.
The Dilſenters, by not fucceeding in their
Endeavours to procure a Repeal of the Teſt,
have loft nothing, but continue in a full En-
joyment of their Toleration ; while the Clergy,
without giving the leaſt Offence, are by this
Bill deprived of a conſiderable Branch of their
antient legal Rights, whereby the Schiſmatical
Party will have the Pleaſure of gratifying their
Revenge, Hoc Graii voluere.
The
114
REASONS againſt ſettling
The Farmer will find no Relief by this
Modus, becauſe when his preſent Leaſe ſhall
expire, his Landlord will infallibly raiſe the
Rent in an equal Proportion, upon every Part
of Land where Flax is ſown, and have ſo much
a better Security for Payment at the Expence
of the Clergy.
If we judge by Things paſt, it little avails
that this Bill is to be limited to a certain Time
of ten, twenty, or thirty Years. For no Land-
lord will ever conſent that a Law ſhall expire,
by which he finds himſelf a Gainer ; and of
this there are many Examples as well in Eng-
land as in this Kingdom.
The great End of this Bill, is, by proper
Encouragement, to extend the Linnen Manu-
facture into thoſe Counties where it hath hi-
therto been little cultivated: But, this Encou-
ragement of leſſening the Tythe of Flax and
Hemp, is one of ſuch a Kind as, it is to be feared,
will have a directly contrary Effect : Becauſe,
if I am rightly informed, no Set of Men hath,
for their Number and Fortunes, been more in-
duftrious and ſucceſsful than the Clergy, in in-
troducing that Manufacture into Places which
were unacquainted with it; by perſuading their
People to fow Flax and Hemp, by procuring
Seed for them, and by having them instructed
in the Management thereof; and, this they did
not without reaſonable Hopes of increaſing the
Value of their Pariſhes after ſome time, as
Kvell as of promoting the Benefit of the Pub-
lick,
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 115
lick. But, if this Modus ſhould take Place,
the Clergy will be ſo far from gaining, that
they will become Lofers by any extraordinary
Care, by having their beſt arable Lands turned
to Flax and Hemp, which are reckoned great
Impoveriſhers of Land: They cannot therefore
be blamed, if they ſhould ſhew as much Zeal
to prevent its being introduced or improved in
their Pariſhes, as they hitherto have thewed in
the introducing and improving it. This, I am
told, ſome of them have already declared, at
leaſt ſo far as to reſolve not to give themſelves
any more Trouble than other Men about pro-
moting a Manufacture, by the Succeſs of
which, they only, of all Men, are to be Suffe-
rers. Perhaps the giving them even a further
Encouragement than the Law doth, as it now
ſtands, to a Set of Men who might on many
Accounts be ſo uſeful to this Purpoſe, would
be no bad Method of having the great End of
the Bill more effectually anſwered: But, this
is what they are far from deſiring; all they pe-
tition for, is no more than to continue on the
fame Footing with the reſt of their Fellow
Subjects.
If this Modus of paying by the Acre be to
paſs into a Law, it were to be wiſhed that the
ſame Law would appoint one or more ſworn
Surveyors in each Pariſh, to meaſure the Lands
on which Flax and Hemp are ſown, as alſo would
ſettle the Price of Surveying, and determine
whether the Incumbent or Farmer is to pay
for
116 REASONS againſt ſettling, &c.
for each annual Survey. Without ſomething
of this Kind, there muſt conſtantly be Dif-
putes between them, and the neighbouring
Juitices of Peace muſt be teized as often as
thoſe Diſputes happen.
I had written thus far, when a Paper was
fent to me with ſeveral Reaſons againſt the
Bill; fome whereof, although they have been
already touched, are put in a better Light, and
the reſt did not occur to me. I ſhall deliver
them in the Author's own Words.
N. B. Some Alterations have been made in the
Bill about the Modus, fince the above
Paper was wrote; but they are of little
Moment,
SOME
1
[ 117 ]
SOM E
Further REASONS
AGAINST
The Bill for ſettling the Tythe of
Hemp, Flax, &C.
"T
I. HAT Tythes are the Patrimony of the
Church : And, if not of Divine Ori-
ginal, yet at leaſt of great Antiquity.
II. That all Purchaſes and Leaſes of Tythe-
able Lands, for many Centuries paſt, have been
made and taken, ſubject to the Demand of
Tythes, and thoſe Lands fold and taken juſt ſo
much the cheaper on that Account.
III. That, if any Lands are exempted from
Tythes; or the legal Demands of ſuch Tythes
leffened by Act of Parliament, ſo much Value
is taken from the Proprietor of the Tythes,
and veſted in the Proprietor of the Lands, or
his head Tenants.
IV. That no innocent unoffending Perſon
can
118 Further REASONS againſt ſettling
can be ſo deprived of his Property, without
the greateſt Violation of common Juſtice.
V. That to do this upon a Proſpect of en-
couraging the Linnen or any other Manufacture,
is acting upon a very miſtaken and unjuſt Sup-
poſition, inaſmuch as the Price of the Lands
fo occupied, will be no way leffened to the
Farmer by ſuch a Law.
VI. That the Clergy are content chearfully
to bear (as they now do) any Burthen in com-
mon with their Fellow Subjects, either for the
Support of his Majeſty's Government, or the En-
couragementofthe Trade of the Nation; but think
it very hard, that they should be ſingled out to
pay heavier Taxes than others, at a Time when
by the Decreaſe of the Value of their Pariſhes,
they are leſs able to bear them.
VII. That the Legiſlature hath heretofore
diſtinguiſhed the Clergy by Exemptions, and
not by additional Loads, and the preſent Clergy
of the Kingdom hope they have not deſerved
worſe of the Legiſlature than their Predeceſſors.
VIII. That by the original Conſtitution of
thefe Kingdoms, the Clergy had the ſole
Right of taxing themſelves, and were in Por-
feſſion of that Right as low as the Reſtoration:
And, if that Right be now devolved upon
the
Commons by the Ceſtion of the Clergy, the
Commons can be conſidered in this Caſe in no
other Light than as the Guardians of the Clergy.
IX. That beſides thoſe Tythes always in the
Poſſeſſion of the Clergy, there are ſome Porti-
ons
the Tythe of Hemp, &c. by a Modus. 119
ons of Tythes lately come into their poſſeſſion
by Purchaſe; that, if this Clauſe ſhould take
Place, they vrould not be allowed the Benefit
of theſe Purchaſes upon an equal Foot of Ad-
vantage with the reſt of their Fellow Subjects.
And that ſome Tythes in the Hands of Impro-
priators are under Settlements and Mortgages.
X. That the Gentlemen of this Houſe ſhould
conſider, that loading the Clergy is loading their
own younger Brothers and Children, with this
additional Grievance, that it is taking from the
younger and poorer, to give to the elder and
richer; and
Laſtly, That, if it were at any time juſt and
proper to do this, it would however be too fe-
vere to do it now, when all the Tythes of
the Kingdom are known for ſome Years paſt to
have ſunk almoſt above one third Part in their
Value.
Any Income in the Hands of the Clergy, is
at leaſt as uſeful to the Publick, as the ſame
Income in the Hands of the Laity.
It were more reaſonable to grant the Clergy
in three Parts of the Nation an additional Sup-
port, than to diminiſh the preſent Subliſtance.
Great Employments are, and will be in the
Hands of Engliſhmen; nothing left for the
younger Sons of Iriſlɔmen but Vicarages, Tide-
Waiters Places, &c. therefore no reaſon to
make them worſe.
The Modus upon the Flax in England, affects
only
I 20
Further REASONS againſt ſettling
only Lands reclaimed ſince the Year 1690, and
is at the Rate of five Shillings the Engliſh Acre,
which is equivalent to eight Shillings and eight
Pence Iriſh, and that to be paid before the Far-
mer removed it from the Field. Flax is a Ma-
nufacture of little Conſequence in England, but
is the Staple in Ireland ; and, if it encreaſeth (as
it probably will) iuit in many Places joftle
out Corn, becauſe it is more gainful.
The Clergy of the eſtabliſhed Church have
no Intereſt, like thoſe of the Church of Rome,
diſtinct from the true Intereſt of their Country,
and therefore ought to ſuffer under no diſtinct
Impoſitions or Taxes of
any
kind.
The Bill for ſettling the Modus of Flax in
England was brought in, in the firſt Year of
the Reign of King George I. when the Clergy
lay very unjuſtly under the Imputation of ſome
Difaffection; and to encourage the bringing in
of fome Fens in Lincolnſhire, which were not
to be continued under Flax, but it left all Lands
where Flax had been ſown before that Time,
under the fame Condition of Tything, in which
they were before the paſſing of that Bill.
Whereas, this Bill takes away what the Clergy
are actually poſſeſſed of.
That the Woollen Manufacture is the Staple
of England, as the Linnen is that of Ireland,
yet no Attempt was ever made in England to
reduce the Tythe of Wool for the Encourage-
ment of that Manufacture. This Manufacture
hath
the Tythe of HEMP, &c. by a Modus. 121
hath already been remarkably favoured by the
Clergy, who have hitherto been generally con-
tent with leſs than half, ſome with ſix Pence
a Garden, and ſome have taken nothing.
Employments, they ſay, have been taxed;
the Reaſons for which Taxation will not hold
with regard to Property, at leaſt till Employ-
inents become Inheritances. The Commons
always have had ſo tender a Regard to Property,
that they never would ſuffer any Law to paſs,
whereby any particular Perſons might be ag-
grieved without their own Conſent.
THE
THE
Beaſts Confeſſion
TO THE
PRI E S T,
ON
Obſerving how moft Men mi-
ſtake their own Talents.
Written in the Year 1732.
Printed in the Year 1743.
The Preface.
7
Have been long of Opinion, that there is
not a more general and greater Miſtake,
or of worſe Conſequences through the Com-
merce of Mankind, than the wrong Judgments
they are apt to entertain of their own Talents :
I knew a ſtuttering Alderman in London, a
great Frequenter of Coffee-Houſes; who, when
freſh News-Paper was brought in, conſtantly
ſeized it firſt, and read it aloud to his Brother
Citizens; but in a Manner, as little intelligible
to the Standers-by as to himſelf. How many
Pretenders to Learning expoſe themſelves by chu-
fing to diſcourſe on thoſe very parts of Science
wherewith they are leaſt acquainted ? It is the
fame Caſe in every other Qualification. By the
Multitude of thoſe who deal in Rhimes from
Half a Sheet to Twenty, which come out every
Minute, there muſt be at leaſt five hundred Poets
in the City and Suburbs of London ; half as
many Coffee Houſe Orators, exclufive of the Clergy ;
forty thouſand Politicians ; and four thouſand
five hundred profound Scholars: Not to mention
the Wits, the Railliers, the Smart Fellows, and
Criticks; all as illiterate and impudent as a Sub-
urb Whore. What are we to think of the fine
dreſſed Sparks, proud of their own perſonal De-
formities, which appear the more bideous by the
Con-
The P R E F A CE.
.
traſt of wearing Scarlet and Gold, with what
they call * Toupees on their Heads, and all the
Frippery of a modern Beau, to make a Figure
before Women ; ſome of them with Hump-Backs,
others hardly five Foot high, and every Feature of
their Faces diſtorted; I have ſeen many of theſe
inſpid Pretenders entering into Converſation with
Perſons of Learning, conſtantly making the großeft
Blunders in every Sentence, without conveying
one fingle Idea fit for a rational Creature to ſpend
e Thought on; perpetually confounding all Chro-
nology and Geography even of preſent Times.
I compute, that London bath eleven native Fools
of the Beau and Puppy-Kind, for one among us
in Dublin; beſides two thirds of ours tranſplanted
thither, who are now naturalized; whereby that
overgrown Capital exceeds ours in the Article of
Dunces, by forty to one ; and, what is more to
our further Mortification, there is not one diftin-
guiſhed Fogl of Iriſh Birth or Education, who
makes any Noiſe in that famous Metropolis, unleſs
the London Prints be very partial or defective ;
whereas, London is feldom without a Dozen of
their own educating, who engroſs the Vogue for
balf a Winter together, and are never heard of
more, but give Place to a new Sett. This hath
been the conſtant Progreſs for at leaſt thirty Years
paſt
, only allowing for the Change of Breed and
Faſhion
Vol. VIII.
N
ADVER-
Wigs with long black Tails, worn for ſome Year's guit.
Xoriember 1738.
Advertiſement.
5
THE following Poem is grounded upon the uni-
verſal Folly of Mankind, of miſtaking their
Talents; by which the Author doth a great Ho-
nour to his own Species, almoſt equalling there
with certain Brutes; wherein, indeed, he is too
partial, as he freely confeſſeth: And, yet he hath
gone as low as he well could, by ſpecifying four
Animals; the Wolf, the Afs, the Swine and the
Ape; all equally miſchievous, except the laſt, who
outdoes them in the Article of Cunning : So great
is the Pride of Man.
I
1
( 127 )
Τ Η Ε
Beaſts Confeſſion
TO THE
Τ
PRI E S T, &c.
W
T
HEN Beaſts could ſpeak, (the Learned
ſay
They ſtill can do ſo every Day)
It ſeems, they had Religion then,
As much as now we find in Men.
It happen'd when a Plague broke out,
(Which therefore made them more devout)
The King of Brutes (to make it plain,
Of Quadrupeds I only mean)
By Proclamation gave Command,
That ev'ry Subject in the Land
Should to the Prieſt confeſs their Sins;
And thus the pious Wolf begins :
Good Father, I muſt own with Shame,
That, often I have been to blame :
I must
N 2
128
The BEASTS CONFESSION
my Fift:
I muſt confeſs, on Friday laſt,
Wretch that I was, J broke
But, I defy the baſeſt Tongue
To prove I did my Neighbour wrong
Or ever went to ſeek
By Rapine, Theft, or Thirſt of Blood.
my Food
The Aſs approaching next, confeſs’d,
That in his Heart he lov'd a Jeſt:
A Wag he was, he needs muſt own,
And could not let a Dunce alone :
Sometimes his Friend he would not ſpare,
And might perhaps be too ſevere :
But yet, the worſt that could be ſaid,
He was a Wit both born and bred;
And, if it be a Sin or Shame,
Nature alone muſt bear the Blame :
One Fault he hath, is ſorry for’t,
His Ears are half a Foot too ſhort;
Which could he to the Standard bring,
He'd ſhew his Face before the K
Then, for his Voice, there's none diſputes
That he's the Nightingale of Brutes.
The Swine with contrite Heart allow'd,
His Shape and Beauty made him proud :
In Diet was perhaps too nice,
But Gluttony was ne'er his Vice:
In
to the PRIEST.
129
In ev'ry Turn of Life content,
And meekly took what Fortune ſent :
Enquire through all the Pariſh round
A better Neighbour ne'er was found :
His Vigilance might fome diſpleaſe;
'Tis true, he hated Sloth like Peaſe.
The mimick Ape began his Chatter,
How evil Tongues his Life beſpatter :
Much of the cens’ring World complain'd,
Who ſaid, his Gravity was feign'd:
Indeed, the Strictneſs of his Morals
Engag'd him in an hundred Quarrels :
He ſaw, and he was griev'd to fee't,
His Zeal was ſometimes indiſcreet:
He found his Virtues too ſevere
For our corrupted Times to bear :
Yet, ſuch a leud licentious Age
Might well excuſe a Stoick’s Rage.
The Goat advanc'd with decent Pace :
And, firſt excus'd his youthful Face;
Forgiveneſs begg'd, that he appear'd
('Twas Nature's Fault) without a Beard.
'Tis true, he was not much inclin'd
To Fondneſs for the Female Kind;
Not, as his Enemies object,
From Chance, or natural Defect;
Not
5
130
The BEASTS CONFESSION
Not by his frigid Conſtitution;
But, thro' a pious Reſolution ;
For, he had made a holy Vow
Of Chaſtity, as Monks do now;
Which he reſolv'd to keep for ever hence,
As ſtrictly too; as doth his * Reverence.
Apply the Tale, and you ſhall find
How juſt it ſuits with Human-kind.
Some Faults we own: But, can you gueſss
Why? -- Virtues carry'd to Exceſs;
Wherewith our Vanity endows us,
Though neither Foe nor Friend allows us.
1
The Lawyer ſwears, you may rely on't,
He never ſqueez'd a needy Client:
And, this he makes his conſtant Rule;
For which his Brethren call him Fool ;
His Conſcience always was fo nice,
He freely gave the Poor Advice;
By which he loſt, he may affirm,
A hundred Fees laſt Eaſter Term.
While others of the learned Robe
Would break the Patience of a job;
No Pleader at the Bar could match
His Diligence and quick Diſpatch ;
Ne'er
# The Prieft his Confeffor.
to the PRIEST.
131
Ne’er kept a Cauſe, he well may boaſt,
Above a Term or two at moft.
The cringing Knave, who ſeeks a Place
Without Succeſs, thus tells his Caſe:
Why ſhould he longer mince the Matter?
He fail'd, becauſe he could not flatter :
He had not learn'd to turn his Coat,
Nor for a Party give his Vote:
His Crime he quickly underſtood ;
Too zealous for the Nation's Good :
He found, the Miniſters reſent it,
Yet could not for his Heart repent it.
The Chaplain vows, he cannot fawn,
Though it would raiſe him to the Lawn:
He paſs'd his Hours among his Books ;
You find it in his meagre Looks:
He might, if he were wordly-wiſe,
Preferment get, and ſpare his Eyes :
But own'd, he had a ſtubborn Spirit,
That made him truſt alone in Merit:
Would riſe by Merit to Promotion;
Alas! a mere chymeric Notion.
The Doctor, if you will believe him,
Confeſs'd a Sin, and God forgive him :
Call'd up at Midnight, ran to ſave
A blind old Beggar from the Grave:
But,
132
The BEASTS CONFESSION
But, ſee how Satan ſpreads his Snares ;
He quite forgot to ſay his Pray’rs.
He cannot help it for his Heart
Sometimes to act the Parſon's Part:
Quotes from the Bible many a Sentence
That moves his Patients to Repentance :
And, when his Med’cines do no Good,
Supports their Minds with heav'nly Food.
At which, however well intended,
He hears the Clergy are offended;
And
grown ſo bold behind his Back,
To call him Hypocrite and Quack.
In his own Church he keeps a Seat;
Says Grace before, and after Meat;
And calls, without affecting Airs,
His Houſhold twice a Day to Pray’rs.
He ſhuns Apothecary's Shops ;
And hates to cram the Sick with Slops :
He ſcorns to make his Art a Trade;
Nor bribes my Lady's fav'rite Maid.
Old Nurſe-keepers would never hire
To recommend him to the Squire ;
Which others, whom he will not naine,
Have often practis'd to their Shame.
The Stateſman tells you with a Sneer,
His Fault is to be too ſincere ;
And,
to the PRIEST.
133
And, having no ſiniſter Ends,
Is apt to diſoblige his Friends.
The Nation's Good, his Maſter's Glory,
Without Regard to Whig or Tory,
Were all the Schemes he had in View;
Yet he was ſeconded by few :
Though ſome had ſpread a thouſand Lyes,
'Twas He defeated the EXCISE.
'Twas known, though he had born Aſperſion,
That Standing Troops were his Averſion :
His Practice was, in ev'ry Station,
To ſerve the King, and pleaſe the Nation.
Though hard to find in ev'ry Caſe
The fitteſt Man to fill a Place:
His Promiſes he ne'er forgot,
But took Memorials on the Spot :
His Enemies, for want of Charity,
Said, he affected Popularity :
'Tis true, the People underſtood,
That all he did was for their Good;
Their kind Affections he has try'd;
No Love is loft on either Side.
He came to Court with Fortune clear,
Which now he runs out ev'ry Year
Muſt, at the Rate that he goes on,
Inevitably be undone.
Oh! if his Majeſty would pleaſe
To give him but a Writ of Eaſe,
Would
134
The BEASTS CONFESSION
Would grant him Licence to retire,
As it hath long been his Deſire,
By fair Accounts it would be found
He's poorer by ten thouſand Pound.
He owns, and hopes it is no Sin,
He ne'er was partial to his Kin;
He thought it baſe for Men in Stations,
To crowd the Court with their Relations :
His Country was his deareſt Mother,
And ev'ry virtuous Man his Brother :
Through Modeſty, or aukward Shame,
(For which he owns himſelf to blame)
He found the wiſeft Men he could,
Without Reſpect to Friends, or Blood;
Nor ever acts on private Views,
When he hath Liberty to chuſe.
The Sharper ſwore he hated Play,
Except to paſs an Hour away:
And, well he might; for to his Coſt,
By want of Skill, he always loft:
He heard there was a Club of Cheats,
Who had contriv'd a thouſand Feats;
Could change the Stock, or cog a Dy
And thus deceive the ſharpeſt Eye:
No Wonder how his Fortune funk,
His Brothers fleece him when he's drunk.
1
I own,
1
to the PRIEST.
13
I own, the Moral not exact ;
Beſides, the Tale is falſe in Fact;
And, ſo abſurd, that could I raiſe up
From Fields Elyzian, fabling Eſop;
I would accuſe him to his Face,
For libelling the Foor-foot Race.
Creatures of ev'ry Kind but ours
Well comprehend their nat’ral Pow’rs ;
While We, whom Reaſon ought to ſway,
Miſtake our Talents ev'ry Day:
The Aſs was never known ſo ſtupid
To act the Part of Tray or Cupid;
Nor leaps upon his Maſter's Lap,
There to be ſtroak’d, and fed with Pap;
As Eſop would the World perſuade ;
He better underſtands his Trade:
Nor comes whene'er his Lady whiſtles
But, carries Loads, and feeds on Thiſtles;
Our Author's Meaning, I preſume, is
A Creature * bipes et implumis;
Wherein the Moraliſt deſign'd
A Compliment on Human-kind:
For, here he owns, that now and then
+ Beaſts may degen'rate into Men.
THE
* A Definition of Man diſapproved by all Logicians : Homo eft
Animal bipes, inplume, erecto vultu.
+ Vide Gulliver in his Account of the Houyhnhnms.
THE
L I F E
A N D
Genuine CHARACTER
OF THE
Rev. Dr. S----t, D. S. P. D.
Written by Himſelf.
Printed in the Year 1743.
Advertiſement.
THĖ
HË Verſes on the Death of Dr. SüIFT,
written by himſelf, being very much enquired
after by his Friends, many of whom pretended to
Þave genuine Copies, although he never ſuffered
any of them to take one ; the following was pub-
liſhed with Breaks, Daſhes and Triplets, (which
the Author never made Uſe of) to diſguiſe his
Manner of Writing ; by which, however, they
were deceived, although the genuine one was not
publiſhed until the Year 1739. But, in Order
to oblige the Reader, we publiſh the following
(altho' he would not own it;) which, the beſt
Judges allow, hath many fine Strokes of Wit and
Humour.
To the Reader.
THIS Poetical Account of the Life and cha."
celebrated through the World for his many in-
genious Writings, was occafioned by a Maxim
of Rochefaucault; and is now publiſhed from
the Author's laſt corrected Copy, being Dedica-
ted by the Publiſher, T. ALEXANDER
POPE, of Twickenham, Eſq;
[ 139 ]
TO
ALEXANDER Pope, Eſq;
OF
Twickenham in the County of Middleſex.
А
S You have been long an intimate Friend
of the Author of the following Poem, I
thought you would not be diſpleaſed with be-
ing informed of ſome Particulars, how he came
to write it, and how I, very innocently, pro-
cured a Copy.
It ſeems the D-n, in Converſation with
fome Friends, faid, he could gueſs the Diſcourſe
of the World concerning his Character after his
Death, and thought it might be no improper
Subject for a Poem. This happened above a Year
before he finiſhed it; for it was written by
ſmall pieces, juſt as Leiſure or Humour allowed
him.
He fewed ſome parts of it to ſeveral
Friends, and when it was compleated, he ſeldom
refuſed the fight of it to any Vihter : So that,
probably, it hath been peruſed by fifty Perfons;
which, being againſt his uſual Practice, many
People judged, likely enough, that he had a
deſire to make the People of Dublin impatient
to ſee it publiſhed, and at the ſame time reſolved
1
to
140
DEDICATION.
to diſappoint them; For, he never would be
prevailed on to grant a Copy, and yet ſeveral
Lines were retained by Memory, and are often
repeated in Dublin.
It is thought, that one of his Servants in whom
he had great confidence, and who had acceſs to
his Cloſet, took an opportunity, while his Ma-
fter was riding ſome miles out of town, to tran-
fcribe the whole Poem: And, it is probable, that
the Servant lent it to others, who were not truſty,
(as it is generally the caſe.). By this accident,
1, having got a very corre&t Copy, from a Friend
in Dublin, lye under no obligation to conceal it.
I have thewn it to very good Judges, Friends
of the Dean, (if I may venture to ſay ſo to You,
who are ſuch a Superior Judge and Poet,) who
are well acquainted with the Author's Stile, and
Manner, and they all allow it to be Genuine, as
well as perfectly finiſhed and correct; his parti-
cuſar Genius appearing in every Line, together
with his peculiar way of thinking and writing.
I ſhould be very ſorry to offend the Dean,
although I am a perfect Stranger to his Perſon :
But, ſince the Poem will infallibly be ſoon prin-
ted, either bere, or in Dublin, I take myſelf
to have the beſt Title to ſend it to the Preſs;
and, I ſhall direct the Printer to commit as
few Errors as poſſible,
Ian, SIR, with the greateſt Reſpect,
Your moſt Obedient and
From mny Chambers:
Mof Humble Servant,
in the Inner Temple,
L. M.
Lordi Apr. 1.1733.
T HE
( 141 )
THE
LIFE and CHARACTER
OF
Dean S****
* * *
t
Upon a Maxim in Rochefoucault
.
ISE Rochefoucault a Maxim writ,
Made up of Malice, Truth, and Wit;
If what he ſays be not a Joke,
We Mortals are ſtrange kind of Folk.
:
But hold Before we farther go,
"Tis fit the Maxim we ſhould know.
5
He ſays,
<
Whenever Fortune fends
Diſaſters to our deareſt Friends,
Although we outwardly may grieve,
- We oft are Laughing in our Sleeve.
And, when I think upon't, this Minute,
I fancy, there is ſomething in it.
Vol. VIII.
O
IO.
We
142
The Life and CHARACTER
.We ſee a Comrade get a Fall,
Yet laugh our Hearts out, one and all.
Tom for a wealthy Wife looks round, 15
A Nymph, that brings ten thouſand Pound:
He no where could have better pick’d;
A Rival comes, and Tomis nick'd
See, how behave his Friends profeſt,
They turn the Matter to a Jeſt;
Loll out their Tongues, and, thus they talk,
Poor Tom has got a plaguy Baulk
-!
20
he lyes :
j
I could give Inſtances enough,
That Human Friendſhip is but Stuff
Whene'er a flattring Puppy cries
25
You are his Deareſt Friend
To loſe a Guinea at Picquet
Wou'd make him rage, and ſtorm, and fret,
Bring from his Heart fincerer Groans,
Than if he heard you broke your Bones.
30
Come, tell me truly, wou'd you take well,
Suppoſe your Friend and You were Equal,
To ſee him always foremoſt ſtand,
Affect to take the upper Hand,
And ſtrive to paſs in publick View, 35
For much a better Man than You?
Envy, I doubt, wou'd pow'rful prove,
And get the better of your Love ;
'Twou'd
of Dean S*****Ť.
143
Twould pleaſe your Palate, like a Feaſt,
To ſee him mortify'd at leaſt
'Tis true, we talk of Friendſhip much,
;
But, who are they that can keep touch?
True Friendſhip in two Breaſts requires
The fame Averhons, and Defres;
My Friend ſhould have; when I complains 45
A Fellow-feeling of my Pain.
Yet, by Experience, oft we find,
Our Friends are of a diff'rent Mind;
And, were I tortur'd with the Gout;
They'd laugh to ſee me make a Rout;
Glad, that themſelves cou'd walk about:
}
Let me ſuppoſe; two ſpecial Friends,
And, each to Poetry pretends :
Wou'd either Poet take it well,
To hear, the other bore the Bell ?
55
His Rival, for the Chiefeft reckon'd,
Himſelf, pafs only for the Second ?
When you are Sick, your Friends, you ſay,
Will ſend their Howd’ye's every Day:
Alas! that gives you ſmall Relief! 60
They ſend for Manners-; not for Grief-:
Nor, if you dy'd, wou'd fail to go
That Ev’ning to a Puppet-Show--:
02
Yet,
144
The LIFE and CHARACTER
:
Yet, come in time to ſhew their Loves,
And
get a Hatband, Scarf, and Gloves.
65
To make theſe Truths the better known,
Let me ſuppoſe the Caſe my own.
The Day will come, when't ſhall be ſaid,
D'ye hear the News? the Dean is dead!
· Poor Man! he went, all on a ſudden-! 70
H’as drop'd, and given the Crow a Pudding !
What Money was behind him found?
· I hear about two thouſand Pound
· Tis own'd he was a Man of Wit-,
Yet many a fooliſh Thing he writ->
75
And, ſure he muſt be deeply learn'd!
That's more than ever I diſcern'd;
· I know his neareſt Friends complain,
· He was too airy for a Dean-.
· He was an honeſt Man, I'll ſwear 80
Why, Sir, I differ from
For, I have heard another Story,
He was a moſt conjounded Tory!
" Yet here we had a ſtrong Report,
" That he was well-received at Court
Why, then it was, I do aſſert,
Their Goodneſs, more than his Deſert.
He grew, or elſe his Comrades ly’d,
Confounded Dull-, before he dy'd.
you there,
85
+
He
of Dean $*****T.
145
100
Say what
you
He hop'd to have a Lucky Hit,
Some Medals fent him for his Wit;
But, truly there the Dean was bit-
• And yet, I think, for all your Jokes,
* His Claim as good as other Folks-
• Muft we the Drapier then forget ? 95
« Is not our Nation in his Debt?
' 'Twas he that writ the Drapier's Letters !
He thould have left them for his Betters;
We had a Hundred abler' Men,
Nor need depend upon his Pen.
will about his Reading,
You never can defend his Breeding !
Who, in his Satyrs running Riot,
Could never leave the World in Quiet ;-
Attacking, when he took the Whim, 105
Court, City, Camp, all one to him.
But, why would he, except he jobber'd,
Offend our Patriot, Great Sir * Robert,
Whoſe Councils aid the Sov’reign Power,
To ſave the Nation ev'ry Hour ?
What Scenes of Evil he unravels,
In Satyrs, Libels, lying Travels!
Not ſparing his own Clergy-cloth,
But, eats into it, like a Moth.
(If
IIO
* Sir Robert Walpole, Prime Miniſter of State to King George
I. and II, made Earl of Orford 1742-3.
146
The Life and CHARACTER
125
}
“ If he makes Mankind bad as Elves, 115
· I anſwer, they may thank themſelves;
• If Vice can ever be abaſh'd,
? It muſt be ridiculd or laſk'd.
But, if I chance to make a Slip,
120
What Right had he to hold the Whip!
* If you reſent it, who's to blame?
He neither knew you, nor your Name;
Should Vice expect to 'ſcape Rebuke,
Becauſe its Owner is a Duke?
* Vice is a Vermin ; Sportſmen fay
No Vermin can demand fair Plaz,
But ev'ry Hand may juſtly, Ilay:
I envy not the Wits, who write
Meerly to gratify their Spite;
139
Thus did the Dean; his only Scape
Was, to be held a Miſanthrope.
This into gen'ral Odium drew him,
Which, if he lik’d, much Good may’t do him :
This
gave
him Enemies in Plenty,
135
Throughout two Realms nineteen in twenty,
His Zeal was not to laſh our Crimes,
But Diſcontent againſt the Times ;
For, had we made him timely Offers,
To raiſe his Poft, or fill his Coffers, 140
Perhaps he might have truckled down,
Like other Brethren of his Gown.
For
of Dean S*****T.
147
i
For Party he would ſcarce have bled
I ſay no more becauſe he's dead-
* But, who could charge him, to his Face,
" That e'er he cring'd'to Men in Place?
· His Principles, of ancient Date,
• Ill ſuit with thoſe profeſs’d of late :
• The Pope, or Calvin, he'd oppoſe,
· And thought they Both were equal-Foes :
That Church and State had ſuffer'd more
By Calvin than the Scarlet Whore":
Thought Popiſh and Fanatick Zeal
« Both bitter Foes to Britain's Weal.
· The Pope would of our Faith' bereave us,
< But ſtill our Monarchy would leave us
Not ſo, the vile Fanatick Crew;
• That ruin'd Church and Monarch too.
4
C
1
<
Suppoſing theſe Reflections fuſt;
· We ſhould indulge the Dean's Diſguſt,
· Who ſaw this Factious Tribe careſs’d;
And Lovers of the Church diſtreſs'd
· The Patrons of the good old Cauſe,
• In Senates fit, in making Laws;
· The moſt malignant of the Herd,
In ſureſt way to be preferr'd
And Preachers find the better Quarter,
· For railing at the Royal Martyr.
;
Whole
148
The Life and CHARACTER
Whole Swarms of Seets, with Grief, he faw,
• More favour'd than the Church by Law:
Thought Proteſtant too good a Name,
* For canting Hypocrites to claim,
· Whoſe Proteſtation hides a Sting
· Deſtructive to the Church and King :
• Which might as well, in his Opinion,
' Become an Atheiſt, or Socinian.
· A Proteſtant's a ſpecial Clinker ;
• It ſerves for Sceptick and Free-thinker,
It ſerves for Stubble, Hay, and Wood,
· For ev'ry thing, --but what it ſhould.
What Writings has he left behind ?
I hear, they're of a diff'rent kind:
' A few, in Verfe; but moſt, in Proſe
* Some high-flown Pamphlets, 1 ſuppoſe:
All ſcribbled in the Worſt of Times,
To palliate his Friend Oxford's Crimes,
To praiſe Queen Anne, nay more, defend her,
As never fav’ring the Pretender :-
Or, Libels yet conceal'd from Sight,
Againſt the Court to ſhew his Spite:
Perhaps, his Travels, Part the Third
A Lye, at ev'ry ſecond Word:
Offenfive to a Loyal Ear :-
But not one Sermon, you may ſwear.
şir,
of Dean S*****r.
149
Sir, our Accounts are diff'rent quite,
* And your Conjectures are not right;
“ 'Tis plain, his Writings were deſign'd
• To pleaſe, and to reform Mankind;
And, if he often miſs'd his Aim,
• The World muſt own it, to their Shame;
The Praiſe is His, and Theirs the Blame.
Then, ſince
you
dread no further Laſhes,
You freely may forgive his Afkes.
VERSES
V E R S E S
ON THE
D Ε Α Τ Η
OF
:
Dr, SWIFT,D.S.P.D,
OCCASIONED
By reading a Maxim in Rochefoucault
.
Dans l'adverſité de nos meilleurs amis, nous trouvons
quelque choſe, qui ne nous deplaiſt pas.
In the Adverſity of our beſt Friends, we find ſome-
thing that doth not diſpleaſe us.
Written by Himſelf, November 1731.
YOYO
Printed in the Year 1743.
1
*
i
The PUBLISHER'S
Advertiſement
THE following Poem was printed and publiſhed
in London, with great Succeſs. Many
Lines and Notes were omitted in the Engliſh
Edition ; which we have here inſerted, to make
this Work as compleat as poſble.
.
$
[ 153 )
V E R S ES
Ο Ν Τ Η Ε
D Ε Α Τ Η
OF THE
T
4
Rev. Dr. SWIFT, &c.
S Rochefoucault his Maxims drew
From Nature, I believe 'em true :
They argue no corrupted Mind
In him ; the Fault is in Mankind.
A
}
This Maxim more than all the reſt
Is thought too baſe for human Breaſt;
" In all Diſtreſſes of our Friends
“ We firſt conſult our private Ends,
“ While Nature kindly bent to eafe us,
« Points out ſome Circumſtance to pleaſe us.
If this, perhaps, your Patience move,
Let Reaſon and Experience prove.
We
i
VERSES 54
7
;
on the
We all behold with envious Eyes,
Our Equal rais'd above our Size
Who wou'd not at a crowded Show,
Stand high himſelf; keep others low?
I love my Friend as well as you;
But would not have him ſtop my View;
Then let me have the higher Poſt:
I alk but for an Inch at moſt.
If, in a Battle you ſhould find;
One, whom you love of all Mankind,
Had fome heroick Action done,
Á Champion killd; or Trophy won;
Rather than thus be over-topt,
Would you not with his Lawrels cropt?
Dear honeſt Ned is in the Gout,
Lies rackt with Pain, and you without:
How patiently you hear him groan!
How glad the Caſe is not your own!
What Poet would not grieve to ſee,
His Brethren write as well as he?
But rather than they ſhould excell,
He'd wiſh his Rivals all in Hell.
Her End when Emulation miſſes,
She turns to Envy, Stings and Hifles :
The
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
155
The ſtrongeſt Friendſhip yields to Pride,
Unleſs the Odds be on our Side:
--
Vain human Kind! Fantaſtick Race!
Thy various Follies who can trace ?
Self-love, Ambition, Envy, Pride,
Their Empire in our Hearts divide :
Give others Riches, Power, and Station,
'Tis all on me an Uſurpation.
I have no Title to aſpire ;
Yet, when you fink, I ſeem the higher ;
In POPE, I cannot read a Line,
But with a Sigh, I wiſh it mine:
When he can in one Couplet fix
More Senſe than I can do in Six :
It gives me ſuch a jealous Fit,
I cry, Pox take him, and his Wit.
Why muſt I be outdone by GAY,
In my own hum'rous biting Way?
ARBUTHNOT is no more my Friend,
Who dares to Irony pretend;
Which I was born to introduce,
Refin'd it firſt, and ſhew'd its Uſe.
.
* ST.
156
VERSES on the
* ST. JOHN, as well as of PULTNEY knows,
That I had ſome Repute for Proſe;
And till they drove me out of Date,
Could maul a Miniſter of State:
If they have mortify'd my Pride,
And made me throw my Pen afide;
If with ſuch Talents Heav'n hath bleſt 'em,
Have I not Reaſon to deteft !em?
To all my Foes, dear Fortune, ſend
Thy Gifts, but never to my Friend :
I tamely can endure the firſt,
But, this with Envy makes me burſt.
Thus much may ſerve by way of Proem,
Proceed we therefore to our Poem.
The Time is not remote, when I
Muſt by the Courſe of Nature dye :
When I foreſee my ſpecial Friends,
Will try to find their private Ends:
Tho' it is hardly underſtood,
Which way my Death can do them good,
Yet thus, methinks, I hear 'em ſpeak;
See, how the Dean begins to break :
For
• Lord Viſcount Bolingbroke.
of Made Earl of Bath in the Icar 1742.
Death of Dr.SWIFT.
157
Poor Gentleman, he droops apace;
You plainly find it in his Face :
That old Vertigo in his Head,
Will never leave him, ţill he’s dead :
Beſides, his Memory decays,
He recollects not what he ſays;
He cannot call his Friends to Mind;
Forgets the Place where laſt he dinid:
Plyes you with Stories o'er and o’er,
He told them fifty Times beforei
How does he fancy we can fit,
To hear his out-of-faſhion'd Wit?
But he takes
up
withi
younger Fokes,
Who for his Wine will bear his Jokes:
Faith, he muſt make his Stories ſhorter,
Or, change his Comrades once a Quarter:
İn half the Time, he talks them round;
There muſt another Sett be found
For Poetry, he's paſt his Prime;
He takes an Hour to find a Rhime:
His Fire is out, his Wit decay'd,
His Fancy funk, his Muſe a Jade,
I'd have him throw away his Pen;
But therë's no talking to ſome Men.
1
And, then their Tenderneſs appeats;
By adding largely to my Years :
VOL. VIII.
P
16 He's
158 VERSES on the
“ He's older than he would be reckond,
“ And well remembers Charles the Second.
“ He hardly drinks a Pint of Wine;
" And that, I doubt, is no good Sign.
" His Stomach too begins to fail :
" Laſt Year we thought him ſtrong and hale ;
“ But now, he's quite another Thing :
“ I wiſh he may hold out till Spring.
3
Then hug themſelves, and reaſon thus;
" It is not yet ſo bad with us.
In ſuch a Cafe they talk in Tropes,
And, by their Fears expreſs their Hopes :
Some great Misfortune to portend,
No Enemy can match a Friend ;
With all the Kindneſs they profeſs,
The Merit of a lucky Gueſs,
(When daily Howd'y's come of Courſe,
And Servants anſwer; Worſe and Worſe)
Wou'd pleaſe 'em better than to tell,
That, God be prais'd, the Dean is well.
Then he who prophecy'd the beſt,
Approves his Foreſight to the reſt:
“ You know, I always fear'd the worſt,
“ And often told you ſo at firſt:”
He'd rather chuſe, that I ſhould dye,
Than his Prediction prove a Lye.
Not
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
159
Not one fortels I ſhall recover;
But, all agree, to give me over. :
1
Yet, thou'd ſome Neighbour feel a Pain,
Juſt in the Parts, where I complain;
How many a Meſſage would he ſend ?
What hearty Prayers that I ſhould mend?
Enquire, what Regimen I kept ?
What gave me Eaſe, and how I ſlept ?
And more lament, when I was dead,
Than all the Sniv’llers #ound my Bed.
My good Companions; never fear,
For though you may miſtake a Year;
Though your Prognoſticks run too faſt;
They muſt be verify'd at laſt.
“ Behold the fatal Day arrive!
" How is the Dean? He's juſt alive.
" Now the departing Pray’r is read :
" He hardly breathes. The Dean is dead.
“ Before the Palling-Bell begun;
- The News thro’half the Town has run.
" O, may we all for Death prepare !
" What has he left ? And who's his Heir ?
is I know no more than what the News is,
“ 'Tis all bequeath'd to Publick Uſes.
“ To publick Uſe! a perfect Whim !
"What had the Publick done for him!
P
!
" Mere
160
VERSES on the
gave it all :
" Mere Envy, Avarice, and Pride!
" He
it all :-But, firſt he dy'd.
" And had the Dean, in all the Nation,
" No worthy Friend, no poor Relation?
“ So ready to do Strangers good,
Forgetting his own Fleſh and Blood ?
16
Now Grub-ſtreet Wits are all employ'd ;
With Elegies the Town is cloy'd :
Some Paragraph in ev'ry Paper,
(1) To curſe the Dean, or bleſs the Drapier.
.
The Doctors, tender of their Fame,
Wiſely on me lay all the Blame :
" We muſt confeſs his Caſe was nice
But, he would never take Advice:
“ Had he been ruld, for ought appears,
« He might have liv'd theſe twenty Years :
· For when we open'd him, we found
That all his vital Parts were found.
Froin
(1) The Author imagines, that the Scriblers of the prevailing
Party, which he always oppoſed, will libel hin after his Death;
but that others will remember him with Gratitude, who conſider the
Şervice he had done to Ireland, under the Name of M. B. Drapier,
by utterly defeating the deſtructive Projet of Wood's Half-pence,
in five Letters to the People of Ireland, ar that Time read uni-
verſally, and convincing «very Reader.
Death of Dr. SWIFT. 161
S
then;
From Dublin ſoon to London ſpread,
(1) 'Tis told at Court, the Dean is dead.
(2) Kind Lady Suffolk in the Spleen,
Runs laughing up to tell the
The ſo Gracious, Mild, and Good,
Cries, “ Is he
“ Is he gone? Tis time he ſhou’d.
“ He's dead you ſay; then let him rot;
(3) I'm glad the M-Is were forgot.
“
I promis'd him, I own; but when?
“ I only was the
« But now as Confort of
“ You know ’tis quite a different Thing,
(4) Now Chartres at Sir R-'s Levee,
Tells, with a Sneer, the Tidings heavy:
Why,
(1) The Dean Juppoſeth himſelf to dye in Ireland, where he
(2) Mrs. Howard, afterwards Counteſs of Suffolk, then of the
Bed chambıç to the Queen, profeled much Friendship for the Dean.
The Queen then Princeſs, fent a dozen times to the Dean (then in
London) with her Commands to attend her ; which at lajt he did,
by Advice of all his Friends. She often fent for him afterwards,
and always treated him very Graciouſly. He taxed her with a
Prefeut worth Ten Pounds, which ſhe promiſed before he ſhould return
to Ireland, but on his taking Leave, the Medals were not ready.
(3) The Medals were to be ſent to the Dean in four Months, but
1
P 3
was born.
*
(4) Chartres is a mojt infamous, vile Scoundrel, grozus from
a Foot-Boy, or warſe, to a prodigious Fortune both in England and
Scotland : He had a Way of inſinuating himſelf into all Miniſters,
under every Change, either as Pimp, Flatterer, or Informer. He
was tryed at Seventy for a Rape, and came off by ſacrificing a great
Part of his Fortune (he is nie dead, but this poem ſtill preferves
the Scene and Time it was writ in.)
162
VERSES on the
ſ Why, is he dead without his Shoes ?
(1) (Cries Bob) I'm Sorry for the News ;
Oh, were the Wretch but living ſtill,
(2) And in his place my good Friend Will:
Or, had a Mitre on his Head
(3) Provided Bokingbroke were dead.
(4) Now Curl his Shop from Rubbiſh drains ;
Three gemine Tomes of Swift's Remains.
And then to make them paſs the glibber,
(5) Revis:d by Tibbalds, Moore and Cihber
.
Hell
(1) Sir Robert Walpole, Chief Miniſter of State, treated the
Dean in 1726, with great Diſtinction, invited him to Dinner at
Chelſea, with the Dean's Friends choſen on Purpoſe; appointed
an Hour: tº talk with him of Ireland, to which Kingdom and
People the Dean found him no great Friend; for he defended
Wood's Projeet of Half-pence, &c for which the Dean would fee
Kim #omore, and upon his next Tears Return to England, Sir
Robert, "oti an áċċidentål
. Medtinig, made him a ciðil Compliment ;
but," the Dean never made him another Viſit.
(2) Mr. William Paftney, from being Sir R--t's intimate
Priend, deteſting, bis Adminiſtration, oppoſed his Meaſures, and
Joined with my Lord Bolingbroke, to repreſent his Conduit in an
excellent Paper, called the Craftſman, which is fill continued.
(3) Henry St. John Lord Viſcount Bolingbroke, Secretary
of State to Queen Anne of bleſſed Memory. He is reckoned the
Fol Univerſal Genius in Europe ; Wé dreading his Abilities,
Creatid kim moſt injuripuly, working with K-George I, who for.
got his Promiſe of refloring the ſaid Lord, upon the reftlefs Impora
tunity of the faid W-
***14) Curl batts been the moſt infamous Bookfeller of any Age or
Country: His Chara&ter in Pärt may be found in Mr. POPE's
Durciad. He publiſhed, three Volumes all charged on the Dean,
rivbo never writ three pages of them : He hash used many of the
Dran's Friends in almoſt as vile a Manner.
(5) Three Pupid Verle Writers in London ;, the laſt to the
Sharing of the Court, and the higheſt Diſgrace to Wit and Leark-
1
3
}
ing,
5
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
163
He'll treat me as he does my Betters,
(1) Publiſh my Will, my Life, my Letters.
Revive the Libels born to dye;
Which Pope muſt bear, as well as I.
Here ſhift the Scene, to repreſent
How thoſe I love, my Death lament,
Poor Pope will grieve a Month; and GAY
A Week; and ARBUTINOT a Day.
ST. JOHN himſelf will ſcarce forbear
To bite his Pen, and drop a Tear.
The reſt will give a Shrug, and cry,
I'm ſorry; but we all muſt dye.
Indifference clad in Wiſdom's Guiſe,
All Fortitude of Mind ſupplies:
For how can ſtoney Bowels melt,
In thoſe who never Pity felt ;
When We are laſh'd, They kiſs the Rod;
Reſigning to the Will of God.
The
P 4
ing, was made Laureat. Moore, commonly called Jemmy Moore,
Son of Arthur Moore, whoſe Father was Jaylor of Monaghan
in Ireland. See the Character of Jemmy Moore, and Tibbalds,
Theobald, in the Dunciad.
(1) Curl is notoriouſly infamous for publiſhing the Lives, Letters,
and laſt Wills and Teſtaments of the Nobility and Miniſters of
State, as well as of all the Rogues, who are hanged at Tyburn.
He hath been in Cuſtody of the Houſe of Lords, for publiſhing og
forging the Letters of many Peers ; which made the Lords enter a
Reſolution in their Fournal Book, that no Life or Writings of
any Lord should be publiſhed without the Conſent of the next Heir
at Law, or Licence from their Houſe.
164
VERSES on the
The Fools, my Juniors by a Year,
Aře tortur'd with Suſpence and Fear.
Who wiſely thought my Age a Screen,
When Death approach'd, to ſtand between :
The Screen remov?d, their Hearts are trembling,
They mourn for me without diffembling,
A
My female Friends, whoſe tender Hearts
Have better learn'd to act their Parts,
Receive the News in doleful Dumps,
“ The Dean is dead (and what is Trumps?)
“ Then Lord have Mercy on his Soul.
(Ladies I'll venture for the Vole)
ço Six Deans they ſay muſt bear the Pall, ,
(I wiſh I knew what King to call.)
“Madam, your Huſband will attend
** The Funeral of ſo good a Friend. -
« NoMadam, 'tis a ſhocking Sight,
" And he's engag‘d Tomorrow Night !
My Lady Club'wou'd take it ill
" If he ſhou'd fail her at Quadrill
.
" He lov'd the Dean. (I led. & Heart.)
.
! But, deareſt Friends, they ſay muſt part.
! His Time was come, he ran his Race;
! We hape he's in a better Plaçe.
;
Why
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
165
Why do we grieve that Friends ſhould dye ?
No Loſs more eaſy to ſupply,
One Year iş paſt; a different Scene ;
No further mention of the Dean;
Who now, alas, no more is miſt,
Than if he never did exiſt.
Where's now this Fav'rite of Apollo ?
Departed; and his Works muſt follow :
Muſt undergo the common Fate ;
His Kind of Wit is out of Date.
Some Country Squire to (1) Lintot goes,
Enquires for SWIFT in Verſe and Profe:
Says Lintot, “ I have heard the Name:
He dy'd a Year ago.” The fame.
He ſearcheth all his Shop in vain ;
“ Şir, you may find them in (2) Duck-lane:
" I ſent them with a Load of Books,
“ Laſt Monday to the Paſtry-cooks.
? To fancy they could live a Year!
" I find you're but a Stranger here.
“ The Dean was famous in his Time;
“ And had a Kind of Knack at Rhyme:
* His
His way of Writing now is palt;
"" The Tową hath got a better Taſte:
“ I keep
(1) Bernard Lintot, a Bookſeller in London. Vide Mr. Pope's
Dunciad.
(2). A Place in London where old Books are fold.
166
VERSES on the
I keep no antiquated Stuff;
But, ſpick and ſpan I have enough.
Pray, do but give me leave to ſhew 'em,
“ Here's Colley Cibber's Birth-day Poem.
« This Ode
you never yet have ſeen,
By *
upon the Queen.
Then, here's a Letter finely penn'd
Againſt the Craftſman and his Friend;
" It clearly ſhews that all Reflection
« On Miniſters, is Diſaffection.
(1) Next, here's Sir Robert's Vindication,
“ (2) And Mr. Henly's laſt Oration:
« The Hawkers have not got 'em yet,
“ Your Honour pleaſe to buy a Sett ?
(C
(3) “ Here's Woolton's Tracts, the twelfth
Edition;
*5 'Tis read by ev'ry Politician:
" The
:
(1) W-le batha Set of Party Scriblers, who do nothing else
but write in bis Defence.
(2) Henly is a Clergyman, who wanting both Merit and Luck
19 get Prefermient, or even to keep bis Curacy in the Eſtabliſhed
Church, formed a netu Conventicle, which he calls an Oratory.
There, a: fet Times, he delivereth ſtrange Speeches compiled by him-
felf and his Aſociates, who ſhare the Profit with him : Every
Hearer pays a Shilling each Day for Admittance. He is an abſo-
lute Dunce, but generally reputed crazy.
(3) Wooliton was a Clergyman, but for want of Bread, hath
in ſeveral Treatiſes, in the moſt blaſphemous Manner, attempted to
turn Our Saviour and his Miracles into Ridicule. He is such
careſſed by many great Courtiers, ond by all the Infidels, and his
Books read generally by the Court Ladies.
i
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
167
1
“ The Country Members, when in Town,
“ To all their Boroughs ſend them down:
« You never met a thing ſo ſmart;
“ The Courtiers have them all by Heart :
“ Thoſe Maids of Honour (who can read)
" Are taught to uſe them for their Creed.
“ The Rev'rend Author's good Intention,
“ Hath been rewarded with a Penſion :
" He doth an Honour to his Gown,
By bravely running Prieſt-craft down :
“ He ſhews, as ſure as God's in Gloc'ſter,
was a Grand Impoſtor :
" That all his Miracles were Cheats,
" Perform'd as Juglers do their Feats:
« The Church had never ſuch a Writer :
“ A Shame, he hath not got a Mitre!
" That
Suppoſe me dead; and then ſuppoſe
A Club aſſembled at the Rose;
Where from Diſcourſe of this and that,
} grow the Subject of their Chat:
And, while they toſs my
Name about,
With Favour fome, and ſome without;
One quite indiffrent in the Cauſe,
My Character impartial draws:
! The Dean, if we believe Report,
* Was never ill receiv'd at Court:
1
- As
168
VERSES on the
“ As for his works in Verſe and Proſe,
" I own my ſelf no Judge of thoſe :
Nor, can I tell what Criticks thought 'em;
But, this I know, all People bought 'em;
" As with a moral View deſign'd
“ To cure the Vices of Mankind :
“ His Vein, ironically grave,
Expos’d the Fool, and lafh’d the Knave :
“ To ſteal a Hint was never known,
« But what he writ was all his own.
!
1
" He never thought an Honour done him
" Becauſe a Duke was proud to own him :
" Would rather ſlip aſide and chuſe
" To talk with Wits in dirty Shoes:
Deſpis'd the Fools with Stars and Garters,
“ So often ſeen carefſing (1) Chartres :
" He never courted Men in Station,
“ Nor Perſons bad in Admiration ;
« Of no Man's Greatneſs was afraid,
“ Becauſe he fought for no Man's Aid.
Though truſted long in great Affairs,
" He gave himſelf no haughty Airs :
« Without regarding private Ends,
Spent all his Credit for his Friends :
« And only choſe the Wiſe and Good:
« No Fļatt'rers; no Allies in Blood;
" But
(1) See the Notes before on Chartres.
Death of Dr. SWIFT. 169
vs But fuccour'd Virtue in Diſtreſs,
“ And ſeldom fail'd of good Succeſs ;
" As Numbers in their Hearts muſt own,
Who, but for him, had been unknown
“ With Princes kept a due Decorum,
“ But never ſtood in Awe before 'em :
“ He follow'd David's Leſſon juſt,
“ In Princes never put thy Truſt.
And, would you make him truly lower ;
« Provoke him with a Slave in Power :
«c. The IS, if you nam’d,
« With what Impatience he declaim'd!
« Fair LIBERTY was all his Cry;
“ For her he ſtood prepar'd to die;
« For her he boldly ſtood alone ;
« For her he oft expos'd his own.
(1) Two Kingdoms, juſt as Faction led,
“ Had ſet a Price upon his Head;
But, not a Traytor could be found;
« To ſell him for Six Hundred Pound.
(
Had
(1) In the Year 1713, the late Queen was prevailed with by an
Addreſs of the Houſe of Lords in England, to publiſh a Procla-
mation, promiſing Three Hundred Pounds so diſcover the Author
of a Pamphlet called, The Publick Spirit of the Whigs; and in
Ireland, in the Year 1724, my Lord Carteret, at his firſt coming
into the Government, was prevailed on to iſſue a Proclamation for
promiſing the like Reward of Three Hundred Pounds, to any Perfor
who could diſcover the Author of a Pamphlet called, the Drapier's
Fourth Letter, &c. writ againſt that defiructive Projeft of coin-
ing Half-pence for Ireland; but in treiber Kingdoms was the
Dean diſcovered.
1
170
VERSES on the
“ Had he but ſpar'd his Tongue and Pen,
“ He might have roſe like other Men:
But, Power was never in his Thought;
“ And, Wealth he valu'd not a Groat:
Ingratitude he often found,
“ And pity'd thoſe who meant the Wound:
“ But, kept the Tenor of his Mind,
" To merit well of human Kind:
“ Nor made a Sacrifice of thoſe
Who ſtill were true, to pleaſe his Foes.
(1) He labour'd many a fruitleſs Hour
" To reconcile his Friends in Power ;
“ Saw Miſchief by a Faction brewing,
“ While they purſu'd each others Ruin.
" But, finding vain was all his Care,
· He left the Court in mere Deſpair.
“And, oh! how ſhort are human Schemes!
" Here ended all our golden Dreams.
" What St. John's Skill in State Affairs,
" What ORMOND's Valour, OXFORD's Cares,
" To
(1) Queen ANNE's Miniſters full to Variance from the firf Year
after their Miniſtry began: Harcourt the Chancellor, and Lord
Bolingbroke the Secretary, were diſcontented with the Treaſurer
Oxford, for his too much Mildneſs to the Whig Party; this Quar-
rel grew higher every Day till the Queen's Death: The Dean, who
was the only perſon that endeavoured to reconcile them, found it
impoffible ;- and thereupon retired to the Country about ten Weeks be-
fore that fatal Event : Upon which he returned to his Deanry in
Dublin, where for any Years he was zorried by the new People
in Pozuer, and bad Hundreds of Libels writ againſt him in England,
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
171
CC
" To ſave their finking Country lent,
" Was all deſtroy'd by one Event.
(1) Too ſoon that precious Life was ended,
“ On which alone our Weal depended.
(2) When
up a dangerous Faction ſtarts,
“ With Wrath and Vengeance in their Hearts;
By folemn League and Cov’nant bound,
“ To ruin, ſlaughter, and confound;
" To turn Religion to a Fable,
" And make the Government a Babel :
" Pervert the Laws, diſgrace the Gown,
Corrupt the
rob the
" To ſacrifice old ---- Glory,
« And make her infamous in Story.
“ When ſuch a Tempeſt ſhook the Land,
“ How could unguarded Virtue ſtand ?
“ With Horror, Grief, Deſpair, the Dean
« Beheld the dire deſtructive Scene :
“ His Friends in Exile, or the Tower,
(3) Himſelf within the Frown of Power ;
" Purſu'd
(1) In the Height of the Quarrel between the Miniſters, the
Queen died.
(2) Upon Queen ANNE's Death the Whig Faction was reſtored
to Power, which they exerciſed with the utmoſt Rage and Revenge ;
impeached and baniſhed the Chief Leaders of the Church Party,
and Aripped all their Adherents of what Employments they had, &c.
(1) Upon the Queen's Death, the Dean returned to live in Dublin,
at his Deanry-Houſe : Numberlefs Libels were curit againſt him in
England, as a Jacobite; he was inſulted in the Street, Brid at
Nights be was forced to be attended by bis Servants armed.
172
VERSES on the
« Purſu'd by baſe envenom'd Pens,
(1) Far to the Land of SIMs and Fens;
“ A ſervile Race in Folly nurs’d,
" Who truckle moſt, when treated worſt.
" By Innocence and Refolution,
te bore continual Perſecution;
While Numbers to Preferment roſe;
" Whoſe Merits were, to be his Foes,
“ When, ev’n his own familiar Friends
“ Intent upon their private Ends :
" Like Renegadoes now he feels,
is Againſt him lifting up their Heels.
“ The Dean did by his Pen defeat,
" (2)An infamous deſtructive Cheat.
Taught Fools their Int'reſt how to know;
“ And gave them Arms to ward the Blow.
Envy hath own’d it was his doing;
" To ſave that helpleſs Land from Ruin;
“ While they who at the Steerage ſtood,
" And reapt the Profit, fought his Blood.
To ſave them from their evil Fate,
c. In him was held a Crime of Statë,
“(1) A
(1) The Land of Sms and Fens, is Ireland.
(2) One Wood, a Hardware-mán from England, bad a Patent
for coining Copper Half-pence for Ireland, to the Sum of 108,000 l.
which in the Conſequence, muſt leave that Kingdom without Gold or
Silver (See Drapier's Letters.).
Death of Dr. SWIFT. 173
1
(1) A wicked Monſter on the Bench,
« Whoſe Fury Blood could never quench;
“ As vile and profligate a Villain,
“ As modern (2) Scroggs, or old Treffilian;
" Who long all Juſtice had diſcarded,
« Nor fear'd be GOD, nor Man regarded;
« Vow'd on the Dean his Rage to vent,
• And make him of his Zeal repent;
“. But Heav'n his Innocence defends,
“ The grateful People ſtand his Friends :
« Not Strains of Law, nor Judge's Frown,
“ Nor Topicks brought to pleaſe the C,
“ Nor Witneſs hir’d, nor Jury pick’d,
« Prevail to bring him in convict.
រ
(3) In Exile with a ſteady Heart,
- He ſpent his Life's declining Part;
Vol. VIII. a
" Where
(1) One W-
was then Chief Juſtice : He had ſome
Years before proſecuted a Printer for a Pamphlet writ by the Dean,
do perſwade the People of Ireland to wear their own Manufa£tures.
Whitſhed ſent the Jury doun eleven Times, and kept them nine
Hours, until they were forced to bring in a ſpecial Verdict.
He
fat as Judge afterwards on the Trial of the Printer of the Drapier's
Fourth Letter; but the Jury, againſt all he could ſay or ſwear,
threw out the Bill: All the Kingdom took the Drapier's Part, ex-
cept the Courtiers, or thoſe who expected Places
. The Drapier
was celebrated in many Poems and Pamphlets : His Sign was ſet
up in moſt of the Streets of Dublin (where many of them ſtill conti-
nue) and in ſeveral Country Towns.
(2) Scroggs was Chief Juſtice under King Charles the Second:
His Fudgment always varied in State Tryals, according to Directi-
ons from Court. Treffilian was a wicked Judge, hanged above
three hundred Years ago.
(3) In Ireland, which he had Rerfon to call a Place of Exile ;
174
VERSES on the
“ Where Folly, Pride, and Faction ſway,
(1) Remote from ST. JOHN, Pope, and
GAY.
(2) His Friendſhip there to few confin'd,
" Were always of the middling Kind:
“ No Fools of Rank, a mungril Breed,
or Who fain would paſs for indeed;
(3) Where Titles give no Right, or Power,
" And P. is a wither'd Flower,
“ He would have held it a Diſgrace,
- If ſuch a Wretch had known his Face.
“ On Rural Squires, that Kingdom's Bane,
" He vented oft his Wrath in vain :
(4) Squires to Market brought;
" Who fell their Souls and -- for Naught;
-
The
go joyful back,
" TO -- the Church, their Tenants rack,
- Go
to which Country nothing could have driven him, but the Queen's
Death, who had determined to fix him in England, in Spight of
the Dutcheſs of Somerſet, GC.
(1) Henry St. John, Lord Viſcount Bolingbroke, mentioned
before.
(2) In Ireland the Dean zvas not acquainted with many
Lords Spiritual or Temporal. He only converſed with private Gen-
slemen of the Clergy or Laity, and but a ſmall Number of either.
(3) The Peers of Ireland loft great Part of their Juriſdiction by
one ſingle 427,
(4) The
Death of Dr. SWIFT.
175
66 Go ſnacks with
“ And, keep the Peace, to pick up Fees :
" In every Job to have a Share,
“ A Jayl or Te to repair;
“ And turn the — for publick Roads
" Commodious to their own Abodes.
“ Perhaps I may allow, the Dean
" Had too much Satyr in his Vein;
" And ſeem'd determin'd not to ſtarye it,
• Becauſe no Age could more deſerve it.
Yet, Malice never was his Aim;
" He laſh'd the Vice, but ſpar'd the Name.
- No Individual could reſent,
" Where Thouſands equally were meant :
“ His Satyr points at no Defect,
« But what all Mortals may correct;
" For, he abhorr'd that ſenſeleſs Tribe
" Who call it Humour when they jibe :
“ He ſpar'd a Hump or crooked Noſe,
" Whoſe Owners fet not up for Beaux.
" True genuine Dulneſs mov'd his Pity,
" Unleſs it offer'd to be witty.
Thoſe, who their Ignorance confeſs’d,
« He ne'er offended with a Jeſt;
“ But, laugh’d to hear an Idiot quote
" A Verſe from Horace, learn'd by Rote.
!
Q2
66 He
176 VERSES on the Death, &c.
“ He knew an hundred pleaſant Stories,
" With all the Turns of Whigs and Tories :
“ Was chearful to his dying Day,
“ And Friends would let him have his Way.
" He
gave
the little Wealth he had,
“ To build a Houſe for Fools and Mad:
“ And ſhew'd by one fatyric Touch,
• No Nation wanted it ſo much;
(1) That Kingdom he hath left his Debtor,
“ I wiſh it ſoon may have a Better.
(1) Meaning Ireland, where he lived, was born, and dyed.
1
Adver-
.
Advertiſement.
For the Honour of the Kingdom
of IRELAND.
THIS is to inform the Publick, that a Gen-
tleman of long Study, Obſervation and Ex-
perience, hath employed himſelf
for ſeveral Years
in making Collections of Facts, relating to the
Conduct of Divines, Phyſicians, Lawyers, Sol-
diers, Merchants, Traders, and Squires, con-
taining, an Hiſtorical Account of the moſt re-
markable Corruptions, Frauds, Oppreſſions,
Knaveries, and Perjuries; wherein the Names
of all the Perſons concerned, ſhall be inſerted at
full Length, with ſome Account of their Families
and Stations.
But, whereas the ſaid Gentleman cannot com-
pleat bis Hiſtory without ſome Aſiſtance from the
Publick, be humbly deſires, that all Perfors who have
any Memoirs, or Accounts relating to themſelves,
their Families, their Friends or Acquaintance,
which are well atteſted, and fit to enrich the
Work, will pleaſe to ſend them to the Printer of
this Advertiſement : And, if any of the ſaid
Perſons, who are diſposed to ſend Materials,
happen
Advertiſement.
happen to live in the Country, it is deſired their
Letters may be either franked, or the poſt paid.
This Collection is to commence with the Year
1700, and be continued to the preſent Year 1738.
The Work is to be entitled, The Author's Criti-
cal Hiſtory of his own Times.
It is intended to be printed by Subſcription, in
a large Ostavo; each Volume to contain five hun-
dred Facts, and to be fold for a Britiſh Crown :
The Author propoſeth, that the whole Work
(which will take in the Period of thirty eight
Years) will be contained in eighteen Volumes.
Whoever ſhall
ſend the Author any Accounts of
Perſons who have performed any Acts of Juſtice,
Charity, Publick Spirit, Gratitude, Fidelity,
or the like, atteſted by undubitable Witneſſes with-
in the
ſame Period; the ſaid Facts Mall be printed
by Way of Appendix at the End of each Volume,
and no Addition to the Price of the Work de-
manded. But, left ſuch Perſons may apprehend,
that the relating of theſe Facts may be injurious
to their Reputations, their Names ſhall not be ſet
down without particular Direction.
N. B. There will be a ſmall Number printed on
Royal Paper for the Curious, at only two Bri-
tiſh Crowns. There will alſo be the Effigies
of the most eminent Perſons mentioned in this
Work, prefixed to each Volume, curiouſly en-
graved by Mr. Hogarth.
SUBSCRIPTIONS are taken in by the Printer
hereof, and by the Bookſellers of London and
Dublin.
Part
+
[ 179 )
Part of the 9th Ode of the 4th Book
of Horace, addreſs’d to Dostor
WILLIAM KING, late Lord Arch-
Biſhop of Dublin.
Paulùm fepultæ, &c.
V R Inactivity
IRTUE conceal'd within our Breaſt
Is Inactivity at beſt:
But, never ſhall the Muſe endure
To let
your
Virtues lye obfcure,
Or ſuffer Envy to conceal
Your Labours for the Publick Weal.
Within
your Breaſt all Wiſdom lyes,
Either to govern or adviſe ;
Your ſteady Soul preſerves her Frame
In good and evil Times the fame.
Pale Avarice and lurking Fraud
Stand in your ſacred Preſence aw'd;
Your Hand alone from Gold abſtains,
Which drags the ſlaviſh World in Chains.
Him for an happy Man I own,
Whofe Fortune is not overgrown;
And
180
HOR. Lib. IV. Ode IX.
}
: ;
And, happy he, who wiſely knows
To uſe the Gifts, that Heav'n beſtows
Or, if it pleaſe the Powers Divine,
Can ſuffer Wánt, and not repine.
The Man, who Infamy to ſhun,
Into the Arms of Death would run,
1
That Man is ready to defend :
With Life his Country, of his Friend.
S
A MO-
:
1
)
A MODEST
D E F E N C E
OF A LA TE
POEM
By an unknown Author, callid,
The LADY's Dreſing-ROOM.
Written in the Year 1732.
HA
Printed in the Year 1743.
( 183 )
+
The Poem on the Lady's Dreffing-Room having
given Offence to a few ſqueamiſh Ladies,
and ſome fine Gentlemen, it was thought pro-
per to publiſh the following Defence.
A MODES T
DEFENCE, &c.
Poem, or Pamphlet, publiſhed in this
Kingdom without a Name, will not
long want one, if the Paper makes any
Noiſe.
There is a certain Perſon of Diſtinction a-
mong us, who is conjectured to have written
many Things, both in Proſe and Verſe, for
the Service of the Nation, which, undoubted-
ly, were publiſhed with his own Conſent. It
is alſo believed, that he hath compoſed others
occaſionally, for the Amuſement of himſelf
and a few intimate Friends; which, by the
Indiſcretion of others, were, from ſtolen and
uncorrect Copies, dragged into Light.
But, I hold it for certain, that a much
greater Number have, by the Boldneſs of Prin-
ters, and the Want of Judgment in Readers,
been charged upon that Author, wherein he
never had the finalleſt Finger, as I am ſure he
hath
184 A modeſt Defence of
hath often declared; and, which is remarka-
ble, was as free in diſowning ſome Writings
charged upon him, of which he had no Rea-
fon to be aſhamed, as he could be of the
meaneſt Productions of Hibernian Grub-ſtreet.
As to thoſe fatal Verſes called the Lady's
Dreſing-Room, which have ſo highly inflamed
the whole Sex, (except a very few of better
Judgment) as I can by no Means juſtify the vul-
gar Opinion, that ſeems to fix it upon a Perſon,
ſo well known for Works of a very different
Nature; ſo I cannot but lament the prevailing
ill Taſte among us, which is not able to diſ-
cover that uſeful Satyr running through every
Line, and the Matter as decently wrapped up,
as it is poſſible the Subject could bear.
Cleanlineſs hath, in all polite Ages and Na-
tions, been eſteemed the chief corporeal Per-
fection in Women, as it is well known to thoſe
who are converſant with the antient Poets.
And, ſo it is ſtill
among
the
young People of
Judgment and Sobriety, when they are diſpoſed
to marry. And, I do not doubt, but that there
is a great Number of young Ladies in this
Town and Kingdom, who in reading that
Poem, find great Complacency in their own
Minds, from a Conſciouſneſs that the Satyrical
Part in the Lady's Dreſing-Room, doth not in
the leaſt affect them.
Wherefore it is manifeſt, that no Poem was
ever written with a better Deſign for the Ser-
vice of the Sex: Wherein our Author hath ob-
ferved
the LADY's Dreſſing-Room. 185
ſerved to a Tittle, the Precepts of his Maſter
Horace; or, indeed, rather hath gone very far
beyond him, in the Article of Decency.
That great Poet, inſtructing us what Actions
are fitteſt to be produced openly upon the
Scene, and which are moſt proper to be only
related to the Audience, goes many Lengths
beyond the Author of the Lady's Dreſſing-Room;
for, at the ſame Inſtant when he ſays, ſome
Actions ſhould not appear as done upon the
Stage, he allows, they may be recited with
Pleaſure and Elegance; and yet, when he comes
to Particulars, his Recital is extremely groſs,
and ſo are his very Precepts which forbid the
Actions: That, if our infinitely more modeſt
Author had imitated his Maſter's Stile, the
whole World might with great Appearance of
Reaſon, have been up in Arms againſt him.
Therefore, to ſet theſe two Poets in a true
Light, I have ventured, for the Satisfaction of
both Sexes, to tranſlate, as litterally as I could,
ten Lines in Horace, upon
the
very
ſame Sub-
ject, which our Author hath handled with a
Decency ſo far ſuperior to his Roman Maſter.
To juſtify the Truth of my Tranſlation, I
deſire all fine Gentlemen and Ladies will ap-
peal from me to the Information of the Learned,
that I may be wholly clear from the leaſt Cen-
ſure of miſrepreſenting ſo great an Authority;
for, indeed, if I have been guilty of
it is in palliating the groſs Expreſſions in the
Original,
any Fault,
286
A modeſt Defence of
Original, and ſoftening them very much to the
Politeneſs of the preſent Age.
The Latin is Word for Word as follows:
A
Aut agiter res in ſcenis, aut a&ta refertur.
Segnius irritant animos demiſſa per aurem,
Quam quæ funt oculis ſubjecta fidelibus, & quæ
Ipfe fibi tradit ſpectator. Non tamen intus
Digna geri promes in ſcenam: Multaq; tolles
Ex oculis, quæ mox narret facundia præſens.
Nec pueros coram populo Medea trucidet ;
Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus.
Aut in avem Progne vertetur, Cadmus in anguem.
Quodcunq; oftendis mihi fic, incredulus odi.
The literal Tranſlation whereof is thus:
;
Some Ladies do their Need before your Face
Some only tell the Action, and the Place.
Our Mind is leſs provok'd by what it hears,
Than when the Fact before our Eyes appears.
In Cloſet dark, your Cedar-box be hid;
Not in a Parlour ſhewn without the Lid.
Some Actions muſt be always out of Sight,
Yet elegantly told, may give Delight.
Nurſe muſt not hold the Child, and cry, Eee, Hee,
When Madam and her Friends are o'er their Te:.
Atreus,
the LADY's Drefning-Room.
1807
Atreus, with Ladies by, miſtakes his Wit,
In new-born Ts to run a red-hot Spit.
Miſs Progne muſt not cry, a Bird, a Bird!
Before good Company, and ſhew a
Cadmus, who voids out Worms of monſtrous
Size,
In mere good Manners ſhould deceive our Eyes;
Muſt do his dirty Work behind the Scene,
And e'er he ſhews the Vermin, wipe them clean.
To bring ſuch odious Objects full in View,
Though Fools may laugh, will make a wife Man
fpew.
I deſire the Reader will compare the leaſt
exceptionable Lines in the Lady's Dreſing-Roon
with the leaſt offenſive of theſe in Horace; al-
though purged by me, as much as could conſiſt
with preſerving the true Senſe of the Original:
Yet, this was the great Maſter of Politeneſs in
the Roman Empire, at the Time it flouriſhed
moſt in Arts and Arms,
Horace, you ſee, makes Uſe of the plain
ſlovenly Words, which our decent Iriſh Poet
induſtriouſly avoids, and ſkips over a Hundred
dirty Places, without fouling his Shoes. Ho-
race, on the contrary, plainly calls a Spade, a
Spade, when there was not the leaft Neceſſity;
and when, with equal Eaſe as well as Signifi-
cancy, he might have expreſſed his Meaning in
comely
188
A modeft DEFENCE, &c.
comely Terms, fit for the niceſt Ears of a
Queen or a Dutcheſs.
I do, therefore, poſitively decide in favour
of our Hibernian Bard, upon the Article of
Decency; and am ready to defend my Propofi-
tion againſt all Mankind; that in the ten Lines
of Horace, here faithfully and favourably tran-
ſlated, there are ten Times more ſovenly Ex-
preſions, than in the whole Poem called the
Lady's Dreſſing-Room ; and for the Truth of
this Propoſition, I am ready to appeal to all the
young
Ladies of the Kingdom, or to ſuch a
Committee as my very Adverſaries ſhall appoint.
"
A French
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 189
A French GENTLEMAN dining with
Company on a Faſt Day, called for
ſome Bacon and Eggs. The reſt were
very angry, and reproved him for ſo
heinous a Sin: Whereupon he writ the
following Lines, extempore, which are
here tranſlated.
PE
EUT on croire avec bon ſens
Qu'un lardon le mit en colore ;
Ou, que manger un barangue
C'eſt un ſecret pour luy plaire.
En ſa gloire envelope
Songe ť il bien de nos foupè.
In
ENGLISH.
W
HO can believe with common Senſe,
A Bacon Slice gives God Offence.
Or, how a Herring hath a Charm
Almighty Anger to diſarm.
Wrapt up in Majeſty divine,
Does le regard on what we dine ?
VOL. VIII.
R
VERSES
190 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
VERSES made for Women who cry
Apples, &c.
APPLES.
C Plumbo, y aples and
}
you have
OME buy my fine Wares,
Plumbs, Apples and Pears,
A hundred a Penny,
In Conſcience too many,
Come, will
any ;
My Children are ſeven,
I wiſh them in Heaven,
My Huſband's a Sot,
With his Pipe and his Pot,
Not a Farthing will gain 'em,
And I muſt maintain 'em.
ASPARAGUS.
R
IPE 'Sparagraſs,
Fit for Lad or Laſs,
To make their Water paſs:
0, 'tis pretty Picking
With a tender Chicken.
ONYONS
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
191
ON Y ON S.
OME, follow me by the Smell,
Here's delicate Onyons to ſell,
I promiſe to uſe you well.
They make the Blood warmer,
You'll feed like a Farmer :
For this is ev'ry Cook's Opinion,
No fav'ry Diſh without an Onyon ;
But leſt your Kiffing ſhould be ſpoyld,
Your Onyons muſt be th'roughly boyld;
Or elſe you may ſpare
Your Miſtreſs a Share,
The Secret will never be known;
She cannot diſcover
The Breath of her Lover,
But think it as ſweet as her own.
O Y S T E R S.
C
Harming Oyſters I cry,
My Maſters come buy,
So plump and ſo freſh,
So ſweet is their Fleſh,
No Colcheſter Oyſter,
Is ſweeter and moyſter,
Your Stomach they ſettle,
And rouſe up your Mettle,
R 2
They'll
!
192 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
your Wife
They'll make you a Dad
Of a Laſs or-a Lad;
And, Madam
They'll pleaſe to the Life;
Be ſhe barren, be the old,
Be The Slut, or be ſhe Scold,
Eat my Oyſters, and lye near her,
She'll be fruitful, never fear her.
B!
HERRI N G S.
E not ſparing,
Leave off ſwearing
Buy my Herring
Freſh from * Malahide,
Better ne'er was try'd.
Come eat'em with pure freſhButterandMuſtard,
Their Bellies are ſoft, and as white as a Cuſtard.
Come, Six-pence a Dozen to get me ſome Bread,
Or, like my own Herrings, I ſoon ſhall be dead.
OR A N G E S.
YOME, buy my fine Oranges, Sauce for your
CON
Veal,
And charming when ſqueez'd in a Pot of brown
Ale.
Well roaſted, with Sugar and Wine in a Cup,
They'll make a ſweet Biſhop when Gentlefolks
fup.
To
* Malahide, about five Miles from Dublin, famous for Oyllers.
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
193
To
L O V E.
IN
N all I wish, how happy ſhould I be,
Thou grand Deluder, were it not for Thee.
So weak Thou art, that Fools thy Pow'r deſpiſe,
And, yet ſo ſtrong, Thou triumphſt o'er the
Wiſe.
Thy Traps are laid with ſuch peculiar Art,
They catch the Cautious; let the Raſh depart.
Moſt Nets are filld by want of Thought and
Care,
But too much Thinking, brings us to Thy Snare.
Where held by Thee, in Slavery we ſtay,
And throw the pleaſing Part of Life away,
But, what does moſt My Indignation move,
Deſcretion, thou wer't ne'er a Friend to Love :
Thy chief Delight is to defeat thoſe Arts
By which he kindles mutual Flames in Hearts,
While the blind loit’ring God is at his Play,
Thou ſteal'ſt his golden pointed Darts away;
ThoſeDarts which never fail; and in their Stead,
Convey'ſt malignant Arrows tipt with Lead:
The heedleſs God, ſuſpecting no Deceits,
Shoots on, and thinks he has done wond'rous
Feats ;
But,
194 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
1
1
But, the poor Numph, who feels her Vitals burn,
And from her Shepherd can find no Return,
Laments and rages at the Pow'rs divine,
When curs’d Diſcretion, all the Fault was thine;
Cupid and Hymen Thou haft ſet at Odds,
And bred ſuch Feuds betwixt thoſe Kindred
Gods,
That Venus cannot reconcile her Sons,
When one appears, away the other runs.
The former Scales, wherein he us’d: to poiſe,
Love againſt Love, and equal Joys with foys,
Are now fill'd
up
with Avarice and Pride,
Where Titles, Power and Riches ſtill ſubſide,
Then, gentle Venus, to thy Father run,
And, tell him, how thy Children are undone;
Prepare his Bolts, to give one fatal Blow,
And ſtrike Diſcretion to the Shades below.
The
following Lines were wrote upon a very
old Glaſs of Sir Arthur Acheſon's.
Frail Glaſs, thou Mortal art, as well as I,
Tho' none can tell, which of us firſt ſhall dye.
Anfwered extempore by Dr. Swift,
We both are Mortal; but thou, frailer Creature,
May'ſt dye like me by Chance; but not byNature.
VERSES
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
195
E
The ELEPHANT; or The Parliament-Man.
Written many Years ſince.
Taken from Coke's Inſtitutes.
’ER Bribes convince you whom to chuſe
The Precepts of Lord Coke peruſe.
Obſerve an Elephant, ſays he,
And let like him your Member be:
Firſt take a Man that's free from Gall;
For Elephants have none at all :
In Flocks, or Parties he muſt keep;
For Elephants live juſt like Sheep:
Stubborn in Honour he muſt be
For Elephants ne'er bend the Knee :
Laſt, let his Memory be ſound,
In which your Elephant's profound;
That old Examples from the Wiſe
May prompt him in his No's and I's.
Thus, the Lord Coke hath gravely writ,
In all the Form of Lawyers Wit:
And then with Latin, and all that,
Shews the Compariſon is pat.
Yet in ſome Points my Lord is wrong;
One's Teeth are ſold and t'other's Tongue:
Now Men of Parliament, God knows,
Are more like Elephants of Shows;
Whoſe docile Memory and Senſe
Are turn’d to trick, to gather Pence.
To get their Maſter Half a Crown,
They ſpread the Flag, or lay it down:
Thoſe who bore Bulwarks on their Backs,
And guarded Nations from Attacks,
VOL, VIII.
Now
5.96
Advice to the
Now practiſe ev'ry pliant Geſture,
Op’ning their Trunk for ev'ry Teſter.
Siam, for Elephants fo fam’d,
Is not with England to be nam’d:
Their Elephants by Men are ſold;
Ours ſell themfelves, and take the Gold,
TH
The following Piece was publiſhed in the Year
5733; and, as it may be uſeful upon a like
Occaſion, we think proper to inſert it here.
ADVICE to the Freemen of the City of
Dublin, in the Choice of a Member to repre-
ſent them in PARLIAMENT.
HOSE few Writers, who, fince the
Death of Alderman Burton, have em-
ployed their Pens in giving Advice to our Citizens,
liow they ſhould proceed in electing a new Repre-
ſentative for the next Seſſions, having laid aſide
their Pens; I have Reaſon to hope, that all true
Lovers of their Country in general, and parti-
cularly thoſe who have any Regard for the Pria
vileges and Liberties of this great and antient
City, will think a ſecond, and a third time, be-
fore they come to a final Determination
upon
what Perſon they reſolve to fix their Choice.
I am told, there are only two Perſons who
fet
up for Candidates; one, is the preſent * Lord
Mayor, and the + other, a Gentleman of good
Eſteem, an Alderman of the City, a Merchant
of Reputation, and poſſeſſed of a conſiderable
|| Office under the Crown. The Queſtion is,
which
Hamphry French. John Macaral. || Regiſter of the Barracks.
Freemen of Dublin.
197
which of theſe two Perfons it will be moſt for
the Advantage of the City to elect? I have but
little Acquaintance with either, ſo that my In-
quiries will be very impartial, and drawn only
from the general Character and Situation of
both.
In order to this, I muſt offer my Country-
men and Fellow Citizens, ſome Reaſons, why
I think they ought to be more than ordinarily
careful at this Juncture, upon whom they be-
ſtow their Votes.
To perform this with more Clearneſs, it may
be proper to give you a fhort State of our un-
fortunate Country.
We conſiſt of two Parties, I do not mean
Popiſh and Proteſtant, High and Low Church,
Epiſcopal and Sectarians, Whig and Tory;
but of theſe Engliſh who happen to be born in
this Kingdom, (whoſe Anceſtors reduced the
whole Nation under the Obedience of the Engliſh
Crown) and the Gentlemen ſent from t'other
Side to poſſeſs moſt of the chief Employments
here: This latter Party is very much enlarged
and ſtrengthened by the whole Power in the
Church, the Law, the Army, the Revenue,
and the Civil Adminiſtration depoſited in their
Hands: Although out of Political Ends, and
to ſave Appearances, ſome Employments are
ſtill depoſited (yet gradually in a ſmaller Num-
ber) to Perſons born here : This Proceeding,
fortified with good Words, and many Promiſes,
is ſufficient to flatter and feed the Hopes of
Hundreds
198
Advice to the
Hundreds, who will never be one Farthing the
better, as they might eaſily be convinced, if
they were qualified to think at all.
Civil Employments of all kinds, have been
for ſeveral Years paſt, with great Prudence,
made precarious, and during Pleaſure; by which
Means the Poffeſſors are, and muſt inevitably
be for ever dependant: Yet thoſe very few of
any Confequence, which are dealt with ſo ſpa-
ring a Hand to Perſons born among us, are e-
nough to keep Hope alive in great Numbers,
who deſire to mend their Condition by the Fa-
vour of thofe in Power.
Now, my dear Fellow Citizens, how is it
poſſible you can conceive, that any Perſon who
holds an Office of ſome Hundred Pounds a
Year, which may be taken from him whenever
Power ſhall think fit, will, if he ſhould be
choſen a Member for any City, do the leaſt
thing when he ſits in the Houſe, that he knows
or fears may be diſpleaſing to thoſe who gave
him, or continue him in that Office. Believe
me, theſe are no times to expect ſuch an exal-
ted Degree of Virtue from mortal Men. Bla-
zing Stars are much more frequently ſeen than
fuch heroical Worthies. And, I could ſooner
hope to find ten Thouſand Pounds by digging
in my Garden, than ſuch a Phænix hy ſearch-
ing among the preſent Race of Mankind.
I cannot forbear thinking it a very erroneous
as well as modern Maxim of Politicks in the
Engliſh Nation, to take every Opportunity of
de-
1
Freemen of Dublin.
199
depreſſing of Ireland, whereof an hundred In-
ſtances may be produced in Points of the high-
eſt Importance, and within the Memory of e-
very middle-aged Man : Although many of
the greateſt Perfons among that Party which
now prevails, have formerly, upon that Article,
much differed in their Opinion from their
pre-
ſent Succeffors.
But, fo the Fact ſtands at preſent. It is
plain, that the Court and Country Party here
(I mean in the Houſe of Commons) very fel-
dom
agree in any thing but their Loyalty to his
preſent Majeſty, their Reſolutions to make him
and his Vice-roy eaſy in the Government, to
the utmoſt.of their Power, under the preſent
Condition of the Kingdom. But the Perſons
ſent from England, who (to a Trifle) are poſ-
fefled of the fole executive Power in all its
Branches, with their few Adherents in Poffeffi-
on who were born here, and Hundreds of Ex-
pectants, Hopers, and Promiſſees, put on quite
contrary Notions with regard to Ireland. They
count upon a univerſal Submiſſion to whatever
ſhall be demanded; wherein they act ſafely,
becauſe none of themſelves, except the Candi-
dates, feel the leaſt of our Preſſures.
I remember a Perſon of Diſtinction ſome
Days ago affirmed in a good deal of mixt Com-
pany, and of both Parties, That the Gentry
from England, who now enjoy our higheſt Em-
ployments of all kinds, can never be poſſibly
Loſers of one Farthing by the greateſt Calami-
ties
200
Advice to the
ties that can befal this Kingdom, except a
Plague that would ſweep away a Million of our
Hewers of Wood, and Drawers of Water : Or
an Invaſion that would fright our Grandees out
of the Kingdom. For this perſon argued, that
while there was a Penny left in the Treaſury,
the Civil and Military Liſt muſt be paid; and
that the Epiſcopal Revenues, which are uſually
farmed out at fix times below the real Value,
could hardly fail. He inſiſted further, that as
Money diminiſhed, the Price of all Neceffaries
for Life, muſt of Conſequence do ſo too,
which would be for the Advantage of all Per-
fons in Employment, as well as of my Lords
the Biſhops, and to the Ruin of every Body
elſe. Among the Company there wanted not
Men in Office, beſides one or two Expectants;
yet I did not obſerve any of them diſpoſed to
return an Anſwer: But the Conſequences drawn
were theſe ; That the great Men in Power fent
hither from the other Side, were by no means
upon
the ſame Foot with his Majeſty's other
Subjects of Ireland. They had no common
Ligament to bind them with us; they ſuffered
not with our Sufferings, and if it were poſſible
for us to have any Cauſe of Rejoycing, they
could not rejoyce with us.
Suppoſe a Perſon, born in this Kingdom,
ſhall happen by his Services for the Engliſh In-
tereſt, to have an Employment conferred on
him worth four Hundred Pounds a Year; and
that he hath likewiſe an Eſtate in Land, worth
four
Freemen of Dublin.
201
four Hundred Pounds a Year more: Suppoſe
him to ſit in Parliament: Then, ſuppoſe a Land
Tax to be brought in of five Shillings a Pound
for ten Years; I tell you how this Gentleman
will compute. He hath four Hundred Pounds
a Year in Land: The Tax he muſt pay yearly
is one Hundred Pounds; by which, in ten
Years, he will pay only a Thouſand Pounds.
But, if he gives his Vote againſt this Tax, he
will loſe four Thouſand Pounds, by being turn-
ed out of his Employment; together with the
Power and Influence he hath, by Virtue or
Colour of his Employment; and thus the Ba-
lance will be againſt him three Thouſand Pounds.
I deſire, my Fellow Citizens, you will pleaſe
to call to mind how many Perſons you can
vouch for among your Acquaintance, who have
ſo much Virtue and Self-Denial, as to loſe four
Hundred Pounds a Year for Life; together
with the Smiles and Favour of Power, and
the Hopes of higher Advancement, meerly out
of a generous Love of his country.
The Contentions of Parties in England, are
very different from thoſe among us.
The Bat-
tle there is fought for Power and Riches; and
ſo it is indeed among us: But, whether a great
Employment be given to Tom or to Peter, they
were both born in England, the Profits are to
be ſpent there. All Employments (except a
very few) are beſtowed on the Natives: They
do not ſend to Germany, Holland, Sweden, or
Denmark, much leſs to Ireland, for Chancellors,
Biſhops,
202
Advice to the
1
Biſhops, Judges, or other Officers. Their Sa-
laries, whether well or ill got, are employed
at home: And whatever their Morals or Poli-
ticks be, the Nation is not the poorer.
The Houſe of Commons in England, have
frequently endeavoured to limit the Number of
Members, who ſhould be allowed to have Em-
ployments under the Crown: Several Acts have
been made to that Purpoſe, which many wife
Men think are not yet effectual enough, and
many of them are rendered ineffectual, by
leaving the Power of Re-election : Our Houſe
of Commons conſiſts, I think, of about three
Hundred Members; if one Hundred of theſe
ſhould happen to be made up of Perſons already
provided for, joined with Expecters, Compliers,
eaſy to be perſuaded, ſuch as will give a Vote
for a Friend who is in Hopes to get ſomething
if they be merry Companions, without Suſpici-
on, of a natural Baſhfulneſs, not apt or able
to look forwards ; if good Words, Smiles, and
Careſſes, have any Power over them, the larger
Part of a ſecond Hundred may be very eaſily
brought in at a moſt reaſonable Rate.
There is an * Engliſhman of no long Stand-
ing among us, but in an Employment of great
Truſt, Power, and Profit. This excellent
Perſon did lately publiſh, at his own Expence,
a Pamphlet printed in England by Authority,
to juſtify the Bill for a general Exciſe, or In-
land
* EDWARD THOMPSON, Eſq; Member of Parliament for
York, and a Commiſſioner of the Revenue in Ireland,
Freemen of Dublin.
203
land Duty, in order to introduce that bleſſed
Scheme among us.
What a tender Care muſt
ſuch an Engliſh Patriot for Ireland have of our
Intereſt, if he ſhould condeſcend to fit in our
Parliament. I will bridle my Indignation.
However, methinks I long to ſee that Mortal,
who would with Pleaſure blow us up all at a
Blaſt: But, he duly receives his Thouſand
Pounds a Year; makes his Progreſſes like a
King; is * received in Pomp at every Town
and Village where he travels, and ſhines in the
Engliſh News-Papers.
I will now apply what I have ſaid to you,
my
Brethren and Fellow Citizens. Count
upon
it, as a Truth next to your Creed, that no one
Perſon in Office, of which he is not Maſter
for Life, whether born here or in England,
will ever hazard that Office for the Good of
this Country. One of your Candidates is of this
Kind, and I believe him to be an honeſt Gen-
tleman, as the Word Honeſt is generally under-
ſtood. But, he loves his Employment better
than he doth you, or his Country, or all the
Countries upon Earth. Will you contribute
and give him City Security, to pay him the
Value of his Employment, if it ſhould be taken
frem him, during his Life, for voting on all
Occaſions with the honeſt Country Party in the
Houſe; although I muſt queſtion, whether
he would do it, even upon that Condition.
Where-
* Mr. I'HOMPSON was preſented with his Freedom of ſeveral
Corporacions in Ireland.
204
Advice to the
1
Wherefore, ſince there are but two Candi-
dates, I intreat you will fix on the preſent Lord-
Mayor. He hath ſhewn more Virtue, more
Activity, more Skill, in one Year's Govern-
ment of the City, than a Hundred Years can
equal. He hath endeavoured, with
great Suc-
cefs, to baniſh Frauds, Corruptions, and all
other Abuſes from amongſt you.
A Dozen ſuch Men in Power, would be a-
ble to reform a Kingdom. He hath no Em-
ployment under the Crown; nor is likely to
get or follicite for
any;
his Education having
not turned him that Way. I will aſſure for
no Man's future Conduct; but he who hath
hitherto practiſed the Rules of Virtue with ſo
much Difficulty, in ſo great and buſy a Station,
deſerves your Thanks, and the beſt Return you
can make him; and you, my Brethren, have
no other to give him, than that of repreſent-
ing you in Parliament. Tell not me of your
Engagements and Promiſes to another. Your
Promiſes were Sins of Inconfideration, at beſt;
and
you are bound to repent and annul them
That Gentleman, although with good Reputa-
tion, is already engaged on the other Side. .
He hath four Hundred Pounds a Year under
the Crown, which he is too wife to part with,
by ſacrificing ſo good an Eſtabliſhment to the
empty Names of Virtue, and Love of his
Country. I can aſſure you, the DRAPIER is
in the Intereſts of the preſent Lord-Mayor,
whatever you may be told to the contrary. I
have
Freemen of Dublin.
205
have lately heard him declare ſo in publick
Company, and offer ſome of theſe very Reaſons
in Defence of his Opinion ; although he hath
a Regard and Eſteem for the other Gentleman,
but would not hazard the Good of the City and
the Kingdom for a Compliment.
The Lord Mayor's Severity to ſome unfair
Dealers, ſhould not turn the honeſt Men a-
mong them againſt him. Whatever he did,
was for the Advantage of thoſe very
Traders
whoſe diſhoneſt Members he puniſhed. He
hath hitherto been above Temptation, to act
wrong; and therefore, as Mankind goes, he
is the moſt likely to act right as a Repreſentative
of
your City, as he conſtantly did in the Go-
vernment of it,
Vol. VIII.
S
THREE
THREE
SERMONS:
1. On Mutual SUBJECTION.
II. On CONSCIENCE.
III. On the TRINITY.
By the Reverend Dr. SWIFT,
Dean of St. PATRICK'S
DU B L I N:
Printed in the Year,
M,DCC,XLV.
( 209 )
ON
Mutual SUBJECTION.
1 St. Peter V. 5.
Yea, all of you be ſubject one
to another.
T
HE Apoſtle having in many Parts of
this Epiſtle given Directions to Chri-
ſtians concerning the Duty of Subjec-
tion or Obedience to Superiors; in the ſeveral
Inſtances of the Subject to his Prince, the
Child to his parent, the Servant to his Maſter,
the Wife to her Huſband, and the Younger to
the Elder ; doth here, in the Words of the
Text, ſum up the whole, by advancing a Point
of Doctrine, which at firſt may appear a little
extraordinary; Yea, all of you, faith he, be ſub-
ject one to another. For, it ſhould ſeem, that
two Perſons cannot properly be ſaid to be ſub-
ject to each other, and that Subjection is only
due
210
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
ز
+
due from Inferiors to thoſe above them : Yet
Saint Paul hath ſeveral Paſſages to the ſame
Purpoſe. For he exhorts the Ro-
Rom. xii, 10.
mans, in Honour to prefer one ano-
ther; and the Philippians, that in Lowlineſs of
Mind they ſhould let cach eſteem other
Philip. ii. 3.
better than themſelves; and the E-
pheſians, that they ſhould ſubmit
Epheſ. v. 21. themſelves one to another in the Fear of
the Lord. Here we find theſe two great Apo-
ftles recommending to all Chriſtians this Duty
of mutual Subjection. For we may obſerve by
Saint Peter, that having mentioned the ſeveral
Relations which Men bear to each other, as
Governor and Subject, Maſter and Servant,
and the reſt which I have already repeated,
he maketh no Exception, but ſumms up the
whole with commanding All to be ſubječt one to
another. From whence we may conclude, that
this Subjection due from all Men to all Men, is
ſomething more than the Compliment of
Courſe, when our Betters are pleaſed to tell us
they are our humble Servants, but underſtand
us to be their Slaves.
I know very well, that ſome of thoſe who
explain this Text, apply it to Humility, to the
Duties of Charity, to private Exhortations, and
to bearing with each other's Infirmities: And,
it is probable, the Apoſtle may have had a Re-
gard to all theſe: But however, many learned
Men agree, that there is ſomething more un-
underſtood, and ſo the Words in their plain na-
tural
The Duty of Mutual Subje&tion.
211
tural Meaning muſt import; as you will obſerve
yourſelves, if you read them with the begin-
ning of the Verſe, which is thus: Likewiſe ye
Younger ſubmit yourſelves unto the Elder ; yea,
all of you be ſubject one to another. So, that
up-
on the whole, there muſt be ſome kind of Sub-
jection due from every Man to every Man,
which cannot be made void by any Power,
Præ-eminence, or Authority whatever. Now,
what ſort of Subjection this is, and how it ought
to be paid, ſhall be the Subject of my preſent
Diſcourſe.
As God hath contrived all the Works of Na-
ture to be uſeful, and in ſome manner a Sup-
port to each other, by which the whole Frame
of the World under his Providence is preſerved
and kept up; fo, among Mankind, our parti-
cular Stations are appointed to each of us by
God Almighty, wherein we are obliged to act,
as far as our Power reacheth, towards the
Good of the whole Community. And he who
doth not perform that Part aſſigned him to-
wards advancing the Benefit of the Whole, in
proportion to his Opportunities and Abilities, is
not only a uſeleſs, but a very miſchievous
Member of the Publick: Becauſe he taketh his
Share of the Profit, and yet leaveth his Share of
the Burden to be born by others, which is the
true principal Cauſe of moſt Miſeries and Mis-
fortunes in Life. For, a wife Man who doth
not aſſiſt with his Counſels, a great Man with
his Protection, a rich Man with his Bounty and
Charity,
2 12
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
is any
Charity, and a poor Man with his Labour, are
perfect Nuſances in a Commonwealth. Neither
Condition of Life more honourable in the
Sight of God than another; otherwiſe he would
be a Reſpecter of Perſons, which he affureth
us he is not: For he hath propoſed the ſame
Salvation to all Men, and hath only placed
them in different Ways or Stations to work it
out. Princes are born with no more Advantages
of Strength or Wiſdom than other Men;
and, by an unhappy Education, are uſually more
defective in both than thouſands of their Sub-
jects. They depend for every Neceſſary of Life
upon the meaneſt of their People : Beſides,
Obedience and Subjection were never enjoined
by God to humour the Paſſions, Lufts, and
Vanities of thoſe who demand them from us;
but we are commanded to obey our Governors,
becauſe Diſobedience would breed Seditions in
the State. Thus, Servants are directed to obey
their Maſters, Children their Parents, and
Wives their Huſbands ; not from any Reſpect
of Perſons in God, but becauſe otherwiſe there
would be nothing but Confuſion in private Fa-
milies. This Matter will be clearly explained,
by conſidering the Compariſon which St. Paul
maketh between the Church of Chriſt and the
natural Body of Man: For the ſame Reſem-
blance will hold, not only to Families and
Kingdoms, but to the whole Corporation of
Mankind. The Eye, ſaith he, can-
Rom. xii. 21.
not ſay unto the Hand, I have no
need
*. 23, 26,
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
213
need of thee; nor again the Hand tothe Foot, I have
no need of thee. Nay, much more, thoſe Members
of the Body which ſeem to be more feeble, are
neceſſary. And whether one Member Juffer; all
the Members ſuffer with it; or one Member be
honoured, all the Members rejoice with it. The
Caſe is directly the ſame among Mankind. The
Prince cannot ſay to the Merchant, I have no
need of thee; nor the Merchant to the La-
bourer, I have no need of thee. Nay, much
more thoſe Members, &c. For the Poor are
generally more neceſſary Members of the
Commonwealth than the Rich: Which clear-
ly ſhews, that God never intended ſuch Pof-
feflions for the Sake and Service of thoſe to
whom he lends them : But becauſe he hath
aſſigned every Man his particular Station to be
uſeful in Life; and this for the Reaſon given
by the Apoſtle, that there
тау be no Schiſm in
the Body.
From hence may partly be gathered the Na-
ture of that Subjection which we all owe to
one another, God Almighty hath been pleaſed
to put us into an imperfect State, where we
have perpetual Occaſion of each other's Aflift-
There is none ſo low, as not to be in a
Capacity of aſſiſting the Higheſt; nor ſo high,
as not to want the Afliftance of the Loweſt.
It plainly appears from what hath been ſaid,
that no one human Creature is more worthy
than another in the fight of God; farther,
than according to the Goodneſs or Holineſs of
their
ance.
1
214 The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
their Lives; and, that Power, Wealth, and
the like outward Advantages, are ſo far from
being the Marks of God's approving or prefer-
ring thoſe on whom they are beſtowed, that,
on the contrary, he is pleaſed to ſuffer them
to be almoſt engroſſed by thoſe who have leaſt
Title to his Favour. Now, according to this
Equality wherein God hath placed all Man-
kind, with relation to himſelf, you will obſerve,
that in all the Relations between Man and Man,
there is a mutual Dependence, whereby the one
cannot ſubſiſt without the other. Thus, no
Man can be a Prince without Subjects, nor a
Maſter without Servants, nor a Father with-
out Children, And this both explains and con-
firms the Doctrine of the Text: for, where
there is a mutual Dependence, there muſt be
a mutual Duiy, and conſequently a mutual
Subjection. For Inſtance, the Subject muſt o-
bey his Prince, becauſe God commands it,
human Laws require it, and the Safety of the
Publick maketh it neceſſary. (For the ſame
Reaſons we muſt obey all that are in Authori-
ty, and ſubmit our ſelves, not only to the Good
and Gentle, but alſo to the Froward, whe-
ther they rule according to our Liking or no.)
On the other Side, in thoſe Countries that pre-
tend to Freedom, Princes are ſubject to thoſe
Laws which their People have choſen ; they
are bound to protect their Subjecct in Liberty,
Property, and Religion; to receive their pe-
titions, and redreſs their Grievances : So, that
the
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
215
the beſt Prince is, in the Opinion of wiſe Men,
only the greateſt Servant of the Nation; not
only a Servant to the Publick in general, but
in ſome ſort to every Man in it. In the like
manner, a Servant owes Obedience, and Dili-
gence, and Faithfulneſs to his Maſter, from
whom at the ſame time he hath a juft Demand
for Protection, and Maintenance, and gentle
Treatment. Nay, even the poor Beggar hath a
juſt Demand of an Alms from the Rich Man,
who is guilty of Fraud, Injuſtice, and Oppreſ-
fion, if he doth not afford Relief according to
his Abilities.
But this Subjection we all owe one another
is no where more neceſſary, than in the com-
mon Converſations of Life; for without it
there could be no Society among Men. If the
Learned would not ſometimes ſubmit to the
Ignorant, the Wiſe to the Simple, the Gentle
to the Froward, the Old to the Weakneſſes of
the Young, there would be nothing but ever-
laſting Variance in the World. This our Sa-
viour himſelf confirmed by his own Example;
for he appeared in the Form of a Servant, and
waſhed his Diſciples Feet, adding thoſe' me-
morable Words, Ye call me Lord and Maſter,
and ye ſay well, for ſo I am. If I then your
Lord and Maſter waſh your Feet, how much more
ought ye to waſh one another's Feet? Under which
Expreſſion of waſhing the Feet, is included all
that Subjection, Afliſtance, Love, and Duty,
which every good Chriſtian ought to pay his
Brother,
216
The Duty of Mutual Subje&tion.
Brother, in whatever Station God hath placed
him. For the greateſt Prince and the meaneſt
Slave, are not by infinite Degrees ſo diſtant, as
our Saviour and thoſe Diſciples whoſe Feet he
vouchſafed to waſh.
And, although this Doctrine of ſubjecting
ourſelves to one another may ſeem to grate
upon the Pride and Vanity of Mankind, and
may therefore be hard to be digeſted by thoſe
who value themſelves upon their Greatneſs or
their Wealth; yet, is it really no more than
what moſt Men practiſe upon other Occaſions.
For, if our Neighbour who is our Inferior
comes to ſee us, we riſe to receive him, we
place him above us, and reſpect him as if he
were better than ourſelves; and this is thought
both decent and neceſſary, and is uſually cal-
led Good Manners. Now the Duty required
by the Apoſtle, is, only that we ſhould en-
large our Minds, and that what we thus prac-
tiſe in the common Courſe of Life, we ſhould
imitate in all our Actions and Proceedings
whatever; fince our Saviour tells us, that
every Man is our Neighbour, and ſince we
are ſo ready in the Point of Civility, to yield
to others in our own Houſes, where only we
have any Title to govern.
Having thus ſhewn you what ſort of Sub-
jection it is which all Men owe one another,
and in what Manner it ought to be paid, I
ſhall now draw fome Obſervations from what
hath been ſaid.
And
The Duty of Mutual Subjection. 217
And Firft ; A thorough Practice of this
Duty of ſubjecting ourſelves to the Wants and
Infirmities of each other, would utterly extin-
guiſh in us the Vice of Pride. For, if God
hath pleaſed to entruſt me with a Talent, not
for my own Sake, but for the Service of
others, and at the ſame time hath left me full
of Wants and Neceffities which others muſt
ſupply; I can then have no Cauſe to ſet any
extraordinary Value upon myſelf, or to deſpiſe
my Brother, becauſe he hath not the ſame
Talents which were lent to me.
His Being
may probably be as uſeful to the Publick
as mine; and therefore, by the Rule of
right Reaſon, I am in no fort preferable to
him,
Secondly; It is
It is very manifeft from what
hath been ſaid, that no Man ought to look
upon the Advantages of Life, ſuch as Riches,
Honour, Power, and the like, as his Property,
but merely as a Truſt, which God hath depo-
ſited with him, to be employed for the Uſe of
his Brethren ; and God will certainly puniſh
the Breach of that Truſt, although the Laws
of Man will not, or rather indeed cannot;
becauſe the Truſt was conferred only by God,
who hath not left it to any Power on Earth to
decide infallibly, whether a Man maketh a
good Uſe of his Talents or no, or to puniſh
him where he fails. And therefore God ſeems
to have more particularly taken this Matter
into his own Hands, and will moſt certainly
reward
218 The Duty of Mutual Subječtion.
reward or puniſh us in proportion to our good
or ill Performance in it. Now, although the
Advantages which one Man poffefſeth more
than another, may in ſome Senſe be called his
Property with reſpect to other Men, yet with
reſpect to God they are, as I faid, only a
Truſt: Which will plainly appear from hence.
If a Man doth not uſe thoſe Advantages to the
Good of the Publick, or the Benefit of his
Neighbour, it is certain he doth not deſerve
them; and conſequently, that God never in-
tended them for a Bleſſing to him; and on
the other Side, whoever doth employ his Ta-
lents as he ought, will find by his own Expe-
rience, that they were chiefly lent him for
the Service of others: for to the Service of
others he will certainly employ them.
Thirdly ; If we could all be brought to
practiſe this Duty of ſubjecting ourſelves to
each other, it would very much contribute to
the general Happineſs of Mankind : For this
would root out Envy and Malice from the
Heart of Man; becauſe you cannot envy your
Neighbour's Strength, if he maketh uſe of it
to defend your Life, or carry your Burden
you cannot envy his Wiſdom, if he gives you
good Counſel; nor his Riches, if he ſupplieth
you in your Wants; nor his Greatneſs, if he
employs it to your Protection. The Miſeries
of Life are not properly owing to the unequal
Diſtribution of Things; but God Almighty,
the great King of Heaven, is treated like the
Kings
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
219
Kings of the Earth ; who, although perhaps
intending well themſelves, have often moſt
abominable Miniſters and Stewards, and thoſe
generally the vileſt, to whom they entruſt
the moft Talents. But here is the Difference,
that the Princes of this World ſee by other
Men's Eyes, but God fees all Things ; and
therefore whenever he permiteth his Bleſſings to
be dealt among thoſe who are unworthy, we
may certainly conclude, that he intends them
as a Puniſhment to an evil World, as well as
to the Owners. It were well, if thoſe would
conſider this, whoſe Riches ſerve them only
as a Spur to Avarice, or as an Inſtrument to
their Luſts; whoſe Wiſdom is only of this
World, to put falſe Colours upon Things, to
call Good Evil, and Evil Good, againſt the
Conviction of their own Conſciences; and
laſtly, who employ their Power and Favour
in Acts of Oppreſſion or Injuſtice, in mifre-
preſenting Perſons and Things, or in counte-
nancing the Wicked to the Ruin of the In-
nocent.
Fourthly ; The Practice of this Duty of
being ſubject to one another, would make us
reſt contented in the ſeveral Stations of Life
wherein God hath thought fit to place us;
becauſe it would in the beſt and eaſieſt man-
ner bring us back as it were to that early
State of the Goſpel when Chriſtians had all
things in common. For, if the Poor found
the Rich diſpoſed to ſupply their Wants; if
the
220
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
the Ignorant found the Wiſe ready to in-
ſtruct and direct them; or, if the Weak
might always find Protection from the Mighty;
they could none of them with the leaſt Pre-
tence of Juſtice lament their own Condition.
From all that hath been hitherto ſaid, it
appears, that great Abilities of any ſort, when
they are employed as God directs, do but
make the Owners of them greater and more
painful Servants to their Neighbour, and the
Publick: However, we are by no means to
conclude from hence, that they are not really
Bleſſings, when they are in the Hands of
Good Men. For firſt, what can be a greater
Honour than to be choſen one of the Stewards
and Diſpenſers of God's Bounty to Mankind ?
What is there, that can give a generous Spirit
more Pleaſure and Complacency of Mind, than
to conſider, that he is an Inſtrument of doing
much Good ? that great Numbers owe to him,
under God, their Subſiſtence, their Safety,
their Health, and the good Conduct of their
Lives ? The wickedeſt Man upon Earth
taketh a Pleaſure in doing Good to thoſe he
loveth ; and therefore ſurely a good Chriſtian,
who obeys our Saviour's Command of loving
all Men, cannot but take Delight in doing
Good even to his Enemies. God, who giveth
all things to all Men, can receive nothing
from any; and thoſe among Men, who do
the moſt Good, and receive the feweſt Re-
turns, do moſt reſeinble their Creator : For
which
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
221
which reaſon, Saint Paul delivereth it as a
Saying of our Saviour, that it is more bleſſed to
give than to receive. By this Rule, what muſt
become of thoſe Things which the World va-
lueth as the greateſt Bleſſings, Riches, Power,
and the like, when our Saviour plainly deter-
mines, that the beſt way to make them Bler-
ſings, is to part with them? Therefore, al-
though the Advantages which one Man hath
over another, may be called Bleſſings, yet
they are by no means fo in the Senſe the
World uſually underſtands. Thus, for Ex-
ample, great Riches are no Bleſſing in them-
ſelves; becauſe the poor Man with the com-
mon Neceſſaries of Life enjoys more Health,
and hath fewer Cares without them: How then
do they become Bleſſings? No otherwiſe,
than by employing them in feeding the Hun-
gry, cloathing the Naked, rewarding worthy
Men, and in ſhort, doing Acts of Charity and
Generoſity. Thus likewiſe, Power is no Bler-
ſing in itſelf, becauſe private Men bear leſs
Envy, and 'Trouble, and Anguiſh without it.
But when it is employed to protect the Inno-
cent, to relieve the Oppreſſed, and to puniſh
the Oppreſſor, then it becometh a great Blef-
ſing. And, ſo laftly, even great Wiſdom is in
the Opinion of Solomon not a Bleſſing in itſelf:
For in much IVifdoin is mich Sorrow; and Men
of common Underſtandings, if they ſerve God
and mind their Callings, make fewer Miſtakes
in the Conduct of Life than thoſe who have
VOL. VIII.
T
better
222
The Duty of Mutual Subjection.
better Heads. And yet, Wiſdom is a mighty
Bleſſing when it is applied to good Purpoſes,
to inſtruct the Ignorant, to be a faithful Coun-
ſellor either in publick or private, to be a Di-
rector to Youth, and to many other Ends
needleſs here to mention.
To conclude : God ſent us into the World
to obey his Commands, by doing as much
Good as our Abilities will reach, and as little
our many Infirmities will permit.
Some he hath only truſted with one Talents
ſome with five, and ſome with ten. No Man
is without his Talent; and he that is faithful
or negligent in a little, ſhall be rewarded or
puniſhed, as well as he that hath been fo in
Evil as
a great deal.
Conſider what hath been ſaid, &c.
ON
:
[ 223 )
1
ON THE
Teſtimony of CONSCIENCE,
.
2 Cor. I. VER. I 2. Part of it.
-- For our Rejoycing is this, the Teſti-
mony of our Conſcience
.
HERE is no Word more frequently in
T the Mouths of Men, than that of Con-
ſcience, and the Meaning of it is in ſome
meaſure generally underſtood: However, becauſe
it is likewiſe a Word extreamly abuſed by many
People, who apply other Meanings to it, which
God Almighty never intended; I ſhall explain
it to you in the cleareſt manner I ain able.
The Word Conſcience properly ſignifies, that
Knowledge which a Man hath within himſelf
of his own Thoughts and Actions. And, be-
cauſe, if a Man judgeth fairly of his own Ac-
tions by comparing them with the Law of
God, his Mind will either approve or condemn
him according as he hath done Good or Evil;
T2
therefore
224 On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
1
therefore this Knowledge or Conſcience may
properly be called both an Accuſer and a Judge.
So that whenever our Conſcience accuſeth us,
we are certainly guilty; but we are not always
innocent when it doth not accuſe us : For very
often, through the Hardneſs of our Hearts, or
the Fondneſs and Favour we bear to our felves,
or through Ignorance, or Neglect, we do not
ſuffer our Conſcience to take any Cognizance of
ſeveral Sins we commit. There is another Of-
fice likewiſe belonging to Conſcience, which is
that of being our Director and Guide; and the
wrong Uſe of this hath been the Occaſion of
more Evils under the Sun, than almoſt all o-
ther Cauſes put together. For, as Conſcience
is nothing elſe but the Knowledge we have of
what we are thinking and doing ; ſo it can
guide us no farther than that Knowledge reach-
eth. And therefore God hath placed Con-
ſcence in us to be our Director only in thoſe
Actions which Scripture and Reaſon plainly tell
us to be good or evil. But in Cafes too diffi-
cult or doubtful for us to comprehend or deter-
mine, there Conſcience is not concerned ; be-
cauſe it cannot adviſe in what it doth 110t un-
derſtand, nor decide where it is itſelf in doubt:
But, by God's great Mercy, thoſe difficult
Points are never of abſolute Neceſſity to our
Salvation. There is likewiſe another Evil, that
Men often fay, a Thing is againſt their Con-
fcience, when really it is not. For Inſtance :
Aſk
any
of thoſe who differ from the Worſhip
eſtabliſhed
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience. 225
eſtabliſhed, why they do not come to Church?
They will fay, they diſlike the Ceremonies, the
Prayers, the Habits, and the like, and there-
fore it goeth againſt their Conſcience : But they
are miſtaken, their Teacher hath put thoſe
Words into their Mouth; for a Man's Con-
ſcience can go no higher than his Knowledge ;
and therefore until he has thoroughly examined
by Scripture, and the Practice of the ancient
Church, whether thoſe Points are blameable or
no, his Conſcience cannot poſſibly direct him
to condemn them. Hence have likewiſe ariſen
thoſe Miſtakes about what is uſually called
Liberty of Conſcience; which, properly ſpeak-
ing, is no more than a Liberty of knowing
our own Thoughts; which Liberty no one can
take from us. But thoſe Words have obtained
quite different Meanings: Liberty of Con-
ſcience is now-a-days not only underſtood to be
the Liberty of believing what Men pleaſe, but
alſo of endeavouring to propagate the Belief as
much as they can, and to cverthrow the Faith
which the Laws have already eſtabliſhed, to
he rewarded by the Publick for thoſe wicked
Endeavours : And this is the Liberty of Con-
ſcience which the Fanaticks are now openly in
the Face of the World endeavouring at with
their utmoſt Application. At the ſame time it
cannot but be obſerved, that thoſe very Per-
ſons, who under a Pretence of a publick Spirit
and Tenderneſs towards their Chriſtian Bre-
thren, are ſo jealous for ſuch a Liberty of Con-
fcience
3 T
226 On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
ſcience as this, are of all others the leaſt tender
to thoſe who differ from them in the ſmalleſt
Point relating to Government; and I wiſh I
could not ſay, that the Majeſty of the living
God may be offended with more Security than
the Memory of a dead Prince. But the Wif-
dom of the World at preſent ſeems to agree
with that of the Heathen Emperor, who ſaid,
If the Gods were offended, it was their own
Concern, and they were able to vindicate them-
ſelves.
But although Conſcience hath been abuſed
to thoſe wicked Purpoſes which I have already
related, yet a due Regard to the Directions it
plainly giveth us, as well as to its Accuſations,
Reproaches, and Advices, would be of the
greateſt Uſe to Mankind, both for their preſent
Welfare and future Happineſs.
Therefore, my Diſcourſe at this Time ſhall
be directed to prove to you, that there is no
ſolid, firm Foundation for Virtue, but on a
Conſcience which is guided by Religion.
In order to this, I ſhall firſt ſhew you the
Weakneſs and Uncertainty of two falſe Principles
which many People ſet up in the Place of Con-
ſcience, for a Guide to their Actions.
The firſt of theſe falſe Principles is, what
the World uſually calleth Moral Honeſty. There
are ſome People, who appear very indifferent
as to Religion, and yet have the Repute of be-
ing juſt and fair in their Dealings, and theſe
are generally known by the Character of good
Moral
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience. 227
any Hold
Moral Men. But now, if you look into the
Grounds and Motives of ſuch a Man's Actions,
you ſhall find them to be no other than his
own Eaſe and Intereſt. For Example : You
truſt a moral Man with your Money in the
Way of Trade ; you truſt another with the
Defence of your 'Cauſe at Law, and perhaps
they both deal juſtly with you. Why? Not
from any Regard they have for Juſcice, but
becauſe their Fortune depends upon their Credit, ,
and a Stain of open publick Diſhoneſty muſt
be to their Diſadvantage. But let it conſiſt
with ſuch a Man's Intereſt and Safety to wrong
you, and then it will be impoſſible you can
haye
upon him ; becauſe there is no-
thing left to give him a Check, or to put in the
Balance againſt his Profit. For, if he hath
nothing to govern himſelf by, but the Opinion
of the World, as long as he can conceal his In-
juſtice from the World, he thinks he is ſafe.
Beſides, it is found by Experience, that thoſe
Men who ſet up for Morality without regard
to Religion, are generally but virtuous in part;
they will be juſt in their Dealings between Man
and Man; but if they find themſelves diſpoſed
to Pride, Luft, Intemperance, or Avarice, they
do not think their Morality concerned to check
them in any of theſe Vices, becauſe it is the
great Rule of ſuch Men, that they may law-
fully follow the Dictates of Nature, wherever
their Safety, Health, and Fortune are not in-
jured. So, that
So, that upon the Whole, there is
hardly
228
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
hardly one Vice which a meer moral Man
may
not upon ſome Occaſions allow himſelf to
practiſe.
The other falſe Principle, which fome Men
fet
UP
in the Place of Conſcience to be their
Director in Life, is what thoſe who pretend to
it, call Honour.
This Word is often made the Sanction of an
Oath; it is reckoned a great Commendation to
be a Man of ſtrict Honour; and it is commonly
underſtood, that a Man of Honour can never
be guilty of a baſe Action. This is uſually the
Stile of Military Men ; of Perſons with
Titles ; and of others who pretend to Birth
and Quality. It is true indeed, that in
ancient Times it was univerſally underſtood,
that Honour was the Reward of Virtue ;
but if ſuch Honour as is now-a-days going
will not permit a Man to do a baſe Action, it
muſt be allowed, there are very few ſuch Things
as baſe Actions in Nature. No Man of Honour,
as that Word is uſually underſtood, did ever
pretend that his Honour obliged him to bechaſte
or temperate ; to pay his Creditors; to be uſeful
to his Country; to do good to Mankind; to
endeavour to be wiſe or learned ; to regard his
Word, his Promiſe, or his Oath; or if he hath
any of theſe Virtues, they were never learned
in the Catechiſm of Honour ; which cantains
but two Precepts, the punctual Payment of
Debts contracted at Play, and the right under-
ftanding the ſeveral Degrees of an Affront, in
order
ز
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
229
order to revenge it by the Death of an Adverſary.
But ſuppoſe, this Principle of Honour, which
ſome Men ſo much boaſt of, did really produce
more Virtues than it ever pretended to ; yet
fince the very Being of that Honour dependeth
upon the Breath, the Opinion, or the Fancy
of the People; the Virtues derived from it
could be of no long or certain Duration. For
Example: Suppoſe a Man from a Principle
of Honour ſhould reſolve to be juſt, or chaſte,
or temperate ; and yet the cenfuring World
ſhould take a Humour of refuſing him thoſe
Characters; he would then think the Obligation
at an End: Or, on the other Side, if he thought
he could gain Honour by the falſeſt and vileſt
Actions (which is a Caſe that very often hap-
pens,) he would then make no Scruple to per-
form it. And God knows, it would be an
unhappy State, to have the Religion, the Li-
berty, or the Property of a People lodged in
ſuch Hands, which however hath been too
often the Caſe,
What I have ſaid upon this Principle of
Honour may perhaps be thought of ſmall Con-
cernment to moſt of you who are my Hearers :
However, a Caution was not altogether un-
neceſſary ; ſince there is nothing by which not
only the Vulgar, but the honeſt Tradeſman
hath been ſo much deceived, as this infa-
mous Pretence to Honour in too many of their
Betters.
Having thus thewn you the Weakneſs and
Uncertainty
no
730
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
Uncertainty of thoſe Principles which ſome
Men ſet up in the Place of Conſcience to direct
them in their Actions, I ſhall now endeavour
to prove to you, that there is no ſolid, firm Foun-
dation of Virtue, but in a Conſcience directed
by the Principles of Religion.
There is no way of judging how far we may
depend upon the Actions of Men, otherwiſe
than by knowing the Motives, and Grounds,
and Cauſes of theni; and, if the Motives of
our Actions be not reſolved and determined in-
to the Law of God, they will be precarious
and uncertain, and liable to perpetual Changes,
I will ſhew you what I mean, by an Example:
Suppoſe a Man thinks it is his Duty to obey his
Parents, becauſe Reaſon tells him fo, becauſe
he is obliged by Gratitude, and becauſe the
Laws of his Country command him to do ſo :
But, if he ſtops here, his Parents can have no
laſting Security; for an Occaſion may happen,
wherein it may be extremly his Intereſt to be
diſobedient, and where the Laws of the Land
can lay no hold upon him: Therefore, before
ſuch a Man can ſafely be truſted, he muſt pro-
ceed farther, and conſider, that his Reaſon is
the Gift of God; that God commanded him to
be obedient to the Laws, and did moreover in
a particular manner enjoin him to be dutiful
to his Parents; after which, if he lays a due
Weight upon thoſe Conſiderations, he will
pro-
bably continue in his Duty to the End of his
Life: Becauſe no earthly intereſt can ever come
ini
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience. 231
in Competition to balance the Danger of of-
fending his Creator, or the Happineſs of plea-
fing him. And of all this his Conſcience will
certainly inform him, if he hath any Regard
to Religion.
Secondly; Fear and Hope are the two great-
eft natural Motives of all Men's Actions: But,
neither of theſe Paſſions will ever put us in the
Way of Virtue, unleſs they be directed by
Conſcience. For, although virtuous Men do
ſometimes accidentally make their way to Pre-
ferment, yet the World is ſo corrupted, that
no Man can reaſonably hope to be rewarded in
it, meerly upon account of his Virtue. And
conſequently, the Fear of Puniſhment in this
Life will preſerve Men from very few Vices,
ſince ſome of the blackeſt and baſeft do often
prove the ſureſt Steps to Favour; ſuch as In-
gratitude, Hypocriſy, Treachery, Malice, Sub-
ordination, Atheiſm, and many more which
human Laws do little concern themſelves about.
But when Conſcience placeth before us the
Hopes of everlaſting Happineſs, and the Fears
of everlaſting Miſery, as the Reward and Pu-
niſhment of our good or evil Actions, our Rea-
ſon can find no way to avoid the Force of ſuch
an Argument, otherwiſe than by running into
Infidelity.
Laſtly; Conſcience will direct us to love
God, and to put our whole Truſt and Confi-
dence in Him. Our Love of God will inſpire
us with a Deteſtation for Sin, as what is of all
Things
232
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
Things moſt contrary to his Divine Nature ;
and if we have an entire Confidence in him,
that will enable us to ſubdue and deſpiſe all the
Allurements of the World.
It may here be objected, If Conſcience be ſo
fure a Director to us Chriſtians in the Conduct
of our Lives, how cometh it to paſs, that the
ancient Heathens, who had no other Lights
but thoſe of Nature and Reaſon, ſhould ſo far
exceed us in all manner of Virtue, as plainly
appears by many Examples they have left on
record
To which it may be anſwered ; Firſt, thoſe
Heathens were extremely ſtrict and exact in
the Education of their Children; whereas a-
mong us this Care is ſo much laid aſide, that
the more God hath bleſſed any Man with E-
ſtate or Quality, juſt ſo much leſs in Proportion
is che Care he taketh in the Education of his
Children, and particularly of that Child which
is to inherit his Fortune , of which the Effects
are viſible enough among the Great Ones of the
World. Again, thoſe Heathens did in a particu-
lar inanner inſtil the Principle into their Chil-
dren of loving their Country; which is ſo far
otherwiſe now-a-days, that, of the ſeveral Par-
ties among us, there is none of them that ſeem
to have ſo much as heard, whether there be
ſuch a Virtue in the World; as plainly appears
by their Practices, and eſpecially when they are
placed in thoſe Stations where they can only
have Opportunity of Thewing it. Laſtly; The
moſt
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
233
moſt conſiderable
among
the Heathens did
ge-
nerally believe Rewards and Puniſhments in a
Life to come ; which is the great Principle for
Conſcience to work upon: Whereas too many
of thoſe who would be thought the moſt conſi-
derable among us, do, both by their Practices
and their Diſcourles, plainly affirm, that they
believe nothing at all of the Matter.
Wherefore, ſince it hath manifeſtly appeared
that a Religious Conſcience is the only true fo-
lid Foundation upon which Virtue can be built,
give me leave before I conclude, to let you
fee
how neceſſary ſuch a Conſcience is, to conduct
us in every Station and Condition of our Lives.
That a Religious Conſcience is neceflary in
any Station, is confeſſed even by thoſe who tell
us, that all Religion was invented by cunning
Men, in order to keep the World in Awe.
For, if Religion, by the Confeflion of its Ad-
verſaries, be neceſſary towards the well-govern-
ing of Mankind; then every wiſe Man in
Power will be ſure not only to chule out for
every Station under him ſuch Perſons as are
moſt likely to be kept in Awe by Religion, but
likewiſe to carry fome Appearance of it himſelf,
or elſe he is a very weak Politician. And ac-
cordingly in any Country where great Perſons
affect to be open Deſpiſers of Religion, their
Counſels will be found at laſt to be fully as de-
ſtructive to the State as the Church.
It was the Advice of Jethro to his Son-in-
Law Moſes, to provide able. Men, ſuch as fear
God,
234
On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
ز
God, Men of Truth, hating Covetoufneſs, and
to place ſuch over the People ; and Moſes, who
was as wiſe a Stateſman, at leaſt, as any in this
Age, thought fit to follow that Advice. Great
Abilities, without the Fear of God, are moſt
dangerous Inſtruments when they are truſted
with Power. The Laws of Man have thought
fit, that thoſe who are called to any Office of
Truſt ſhould be bound by an Oath to the faith-
ful Diſcharge of it: But, an Oath is an Appeal
to God, and therefore can have no Influence
except upon thoſe who believe that he is, and
that he is a Rewarder of thoſe that ſeek him,
and a Puniſher of thoſe who diſobey him: And
therefore, we fee, the Laws themſelves are
forced to have recourſe to Conſcience in theſe
Cafes, becauſe their Penalties cannot reach the
Arts of cunning Men, who can find Ways to
be guilty of a thouſand Injuſtices without being
diſcovered, or at leaſt without being puniſhed.
And the Reaſon why we find ſo many Frauds,
Abuſes, and Corruptions where any Truſt is
conferred, can be no other, than that there is
ſo little Conſcience and Religion left in the
World, or at leaſt that Men in their Choice of
Inſtruments have private Ends in view, which
are very different from the Service of the Pub-
lick. Beſides, it is certain, that Men who pro-
feſs to have no Religion, are full as zealous to
bring over Proſelytes as any Papiſt or Fanatick
can be. And therefore, if thoſe who are in
Station high enough to be of Influence or Ex-
ample
On the Teſtimony of Conjcience. 235
ample to others; if thoſe (I ſay) openly pro-
feſs a Contempt or Diſbelief of Religion, they
will be ſure to make all their Dependents of
their own Principles; and what Security can
the Publick expect from ſuch Perſons, whene-
ver their Intereſts or their Luſts come into
Competition with their Duty ? It is very poſſi-
ble for a Man who has the Appearance of Reii-
gion, and a great Pretender to Conſcience, to
be wicked and an Hypocrite; but, it is impor-
ſible for a Man who openly declares againſt Re-
ligion, to give any reaſonable Security that he
will not be falſe and cruel, and corrupt, when-
ever a Temptation offers, which he valueth more
than he does the Power wherewith he was
truſted. And, if ſuch a Man doth not betray
his Cauſe and his Maſter, it was only becauſe
the Temptation was not properly offered, or the
Profit was too ſmall, or the Danger too great.
And hence it is, that we find ſo little Truth or
Juſtice among us, becauſe there are ſo very few,
who either in the Service of the Publick, or in
common Dealings with each other, do ever look
farther than their own Advantage, and how to
guard themſelves againſt the Laws of the Coun-
try; which a Man may do by Favour, by Se-
creſy ,or by Cunning, although he breaketh al-
moſt every Law of God.
Therefore to conclude: It plainly appears,
that unleſs Men are guided by the Advice and
Judgment of a Conſcience founded on Religion,
they
236 On the Teſtimony of Conſcience.
they can give no Security that they will be ei-
ther good Subjects, faithful Servants of the Pub-
lick, or honeſt in their mutual Dealings; ſince
there is no other Tie thro' which the Pride, or
Luſt, or Avarice, or Ambition of Mankind
will not certainly break one Time or other.
Conſider what hath been ſaid, &c.
ON
1
( 237 )
ON THE
T RI NI Τ Υ.
T
i Epiſt. Gen. of St. John V. 7.
For there are Three that bear Record in
Heaven, the Father, the Word, and
the Holy Ghoft; and theſe Three are
One.
T
HIS Day being ſet apart to acknow-
ledge our Belief in the Eternal TRI-
NITY, I thought it might be proper to em-
ploy my preſent Diſcourſe entirely upon that
Subject; and, I hope, to handle it in ſuch a
Manner, that the moſt Ignorant among you
may return home better informed of your Duty
in this great Point, than probably you are at
preſent.
It muſt be confeſſed, that by the Weakneſs
and Indiſcretion of buſy (or at beſt, of well-
meaning) People, as well as by the Malice of
thoſe who are Enemies to all Revealed Religion,
VOL. VIII. U
and
238
On the Trinity.
and are not content to poſſeſs their own Infide-
lity in Silence, without communicating it to
the Disturbance of Mankind; I ſay, by theſe
Means, it muſt be confeſſed, that the Doctrine
of the Trinity hath ſuffered very much, and
made Chriſtianity ſuffer along with it. For
theſe two Things muſt be granted: Firſt, That
Men of wicked Lives would be very glad there
were no Truth in Chriſtianity at all, and ſe-
condly, If they can pick out any one ſingle
Article in the Chriſtian Religion which appears
not agreeable to their own corrupted Reaſon,
or to the Arguments of thoſe bad People, who
follow the Trade of ſeducing others, they pre-
fently conclude, that the Truth of the whole
Goſpel muſt ſink along with that one Article ;
which is juſt as wiſe, as if a Man ſhould ſay,
becauſe he diſlikes one Law of his Country, he
will therefore obſerve no Law at all; and yet,
that one Law may be very reaſonable in itſelf,
although he doth not allow it, or doth not
know the Reaſon of the Lawgivers.
Thus it hath happened with the great Doc-
trine of the Trinity; which Word is indeed not
in Scripture, but was a Term of Art invented
in the earlier Times to expreſs the Doctrine by
a ſingle Word, for the Sake of Brevity and
Convenience. The Doctrine then, as delivered
in Holy Scripture, although not exactly in the
ſame Words, is very ſhort, and amounts only
to this, That the Father, the Son, and the
Holy Ghoſt, are each of them God, and yet
that
On the Trinity.
239
that there is but One God. For, as to the
Word Perſon, when we ſay there are three
Perſons; and as to thoſe other Explanations in
the Athanaſan Creed this Day read to you
(whether compiled by Athanaſius or no) they
were taken
up
three hundred Years after Chriſt,
to expound this Doctrine; and I will tell you
upon what Occaſion. About that time there
ſprang up a Hereſy of a People called Arrians,
from one Arrius the Leader of them. Theſe
denied our Saviour to be God, although they
allowed all the reſt of the Goſpel (wherein
they were more ſincere than their Followers a-
mong us.) Thus the Chriſtian World was di-
vided into two Parts, until at length, by the
Zeal and Courage of Saint Athanafius, the Ar-
rians were condemned in a General Council,
and a Creed formed upon the true Faith, as
Saint Athanahus hath ſettled it. This Creed
is now read at certain times in our Churches,
which, although it is uſeful for Edification to
thoſe who underſtand it; yet, ſince it containeth
ſome nice and philoſophical Points which few
People can comprehend, the Bulk of Mankind
is obliged to believe no more than the Scripture-
Doctrine, as I have delivered it. Becauſe that
Creed was intended only as an Anſwer to the
Arrians in their own Way, who were very
fubtle Diſputers.
But this Hereſy having revived in the World
about an hundred Years ago, and continued
ever ſince; not out of a Zeal to Truth, but
U2
to
240
On the Trinity.
to give a Looſe to Wickedneſs, by throwing
off all Religion ; ſeveral Divines, in order to
anſwer the Cavils of thoſe Adverſaries to Truth
and Morality, began to find out farther Expla-
nations of this Doctrine of the Trinity, by
Rules of Philoſophy; which have multiplied
Controverſies to ſuch a Degree, as to beget
Scruples that have perplexed ihe Minds of
many ſober Chriſtians, who otherwiſe could
never have entertained them.
I muſt therefore be ſo bold to affirm, that
the Method taken by many of thoſe learned
Men to defend the Doctrine of the Trinity,
hath been founded upon a Miſtake.
It muſt be allowed, that every Man is bound
to follow the Rules and Directions of that Mea-
ſure of Reaſon which God hath given him;
and indeed he cannot do otherwiſe, if he will
be ſincere, or act like a Man. For Inſtance :
If I ſhould be commanded by an Angel from
Heaven to believe it is Midnight at Noon-day;
yet I could not believe him. So, if I were
directly told in Scripture, that Three are One,
and One is Three, I could not conceive or be-
lieve it in the natural common Senſe of that
Expreſſion, but muſt ſuppoſe that ſomething
dark or myſtical was meant, which it pleaſed
God to conceal from me and from all the World.
Thus, in the Text, There are Three that bear
Record, &c. Am I capable of knowing and
defining what Union and what Diſtinction
there may be in the Divine Nature? which
poſſibly
On the Trinity.
241
poſſibly may be hid from the Angels them-
ſelves. Again, I ſee it plainly declared in
Scripture, that there is but one God; and yet I
find our Saviour claiming the Prerogative of
God in knowing Men's Thoughts; in faying
He and his Father are one; and, before Abra-
ham was, I am. I read, that the Diſciples
worſhipped him: That Thomas ſaid to him,
My Lord and my God. And, Saint John, Chap.
iſt, In the Beginning was the Word, and the
Word was with God, and the Word was God.
I read likewiſe that the Holy Ghoſt beſtowed
the Gift of Tongues, and the Power of work-
ing Miracles; which, if rightly conſidered,
is as great a Miracle as any, that a Number of
illiterate Men ſhould of a ſudden be qualified
to ſpeak all the Languages then known in the
World; ſuch as could be done by the Inſpira-
tion of God alone. From theſe ſeveral Texts
it is plain, that God commandeth us to believe
there is a Union and there is a Diſtinction
but what that Union, or what that Diſtinction
is, all Mankind are equally ignorant, and muſt
continue ſo, at leaſt till the Day of Judgment,
without ſome new Revelation.
But becauſe I cannot conceive the Nature of
this Union and Diſtinction in the Divine Na-
ture, am I therefore to reject them as abſurd
and impoſſible ; as I would, if any one told
me that three Men are one, and one Man is
three? We are told, that a Man and his Wife
are one Fleſh; this I can comprehend the
Meaning
;
U 3
242
On the Trinity.
Meaning of; yet, literally taken, it is a thing
impoſſible. But the Apoſtle telleth us, We ſee
but in part, and we know but in part; and yet
we would comprehend all the ſecret Ways and
Workings of God.
Therefore I ſhall again repeat the Doctrine
of the Trinity, as it is poſitively affirmed in
Scripture : That God is there expreſſed in three
different Names, as Father, as Son, and as
Holy Ghoſt; that each of theſe is God, and
that there is but one God. But this Union and
Diſtinction are a Myſtery utterly unknown to
Mankind.
This is enough for any good Chriſtian to
believe on this great Article, without ever in-
quiring any farther: And, this can be con-
trary to no Man's Reaſon, although the Know-
ledge of it is hid from him.
But there is another Difficulty of great Im-
.
portance among thoſe who quarrel with the
Doctrine of the Trinity, as well as with ſeve-
ral other Articles of Chriſtianity; which is,
that our Religion abounds in Myſteries, and
theſe they are ſo bold to revile as Cant, Im-
poſture, and Prieſt-craft. It is impoſſible for
us to determine for what Reaſons God thought
fit to communicate ſome Things to us in part,
and leave ſome Part a Myſtery. But ſo it is
in Fact, and ſo the Holy Scriptures tells us in
ſeveral Places. For Inſtance: The Reſurrection
and Change of our Bodies are called Myſteries
by Saint Paul; our Saviour's Incarnation is
another :
1
On the Trinity.
243
another : The Kingdom of God is called a
Myſtery by our Saviour, to be only known to
his Diſciples ; ſo is Faith, and the Word of God
by Saint Paul: I omit many others. So, that
to declare againſt all Myſteries without Diſtinc-
tionor Exception, is to declare againſt the whole
Tenor of the New Teſtament.
There are two Conditions that may bring a
Myſtery under Suſpicion. Firſt, When it is
not taught and coinmanded in Holy Writ; or,
ſecondly, When the Myſtery turns to the Ad-
vantage of thoſe who preach it to others. Now,
as to the firſt, it can never be faid, that we
preach Myſteries without Warrant from Holy
Scripture, although I confeſs this of the Trini-
ty may have ſometimes been explained by hu-
inan Invention, which might perhaps better
have been ſpared. As to the ſecond; it will
not be poſſible to charge the Proteſtant Prieſt-
hood with propoſing any temporal Advantage
to themſelves by broaching or multiplying,
or preaching of Myſteries. Does this Myſtery
of the Trinity, for Inſtance, and the Deſcent
of the Holy Ghoſt, bring the leaſt Profit or
Power to the Preachers ? No; it is as great a
Myſtery to themſelves as it is to the meaneſt of
their Hearers; and may be rather a Cauſe of
Humiliation, by putting their Underſtanding
in that Point upon a Level with the moſt igno-
rant of their Flock. It is true indeed, the Ro-
man Church hath very much enriched herſelf
by trading in Myſteries, for which they have
not
244
On the Trinity.
not the leaſt Authority from Scripture, and
were fitted only to advance their own temporal
Wealth and Grandeur ; ſuch as Tranſubſtanti-
ation, Worſhipping of Images, Indulgences for
Sins, Purgatory, and Maſes for the Dead;
with many more: But, it is the perpetual Ta-
lent of thoſe who have Ill-Will to our Church,
or a Contempt for all Religion, taken up by
the Wickedneſs of their Lives, to charge us
with the Errors and Corruptions of Popery,
which all Proteſtants have thrown off near two
hundred Years: Whereas, thoſe Myſteries held
by us have no Proſpect of Power, Pomp, or
Wealth, but have been ever maintained by the
univerſal Body of true Believers from the Days
of the Apoſtles, and will be ſo to the Reſur-
rection ; neither will the Gates of Hell prevail
againſt them.
It may be thought perhaps a ſtrange thing,
that God thould require us to believe Myſteries,
while the Reaſon or Manner of what we are
to believe is above our Comprehenſion, and
wholly concealed from us : neither doth it ap-
pear at firſt fight, that the believing or not be-
lieving them doth concern either the Glory of
God, or contribute to the Goodneſs or Wicked-
neſs of our Lives. But this is a great and dan-
gerous Miſtake. We ſee what a mighty
Weight is laid upon Faith, both in the Old
and New Teſtament. In the former we read
how the Faith of Abraham is praiſed, who
could believe that God would raiſe from him
a
On the Trinity.
245
a great Nation, at the very ſame time that he
was commanded to ſacrifice his only Son, and
deſpaired of any other Iſſue.
any other Iſſue. And this was to
him a great Myſtery. Our Savour is perpetu-
ally preaching Faith to his Diſciples, or re-
proaching them with the Want of it; and Saint
Paul produceth numerous Examples of the
Wonders done by Faith. And all this is highly
reaſonable ; for, Faith is an entire Dependence
upon the Truth, the Power, the Juſtice, and
the Mercy of God; which Dependence will
certainly incline us to obey him in all Things.
So, that the great Excellency of Faith, conſiſteth
in the Conſequence it hath upon our Acìions :
As, if we depend upon the Truth and Wif-
dom of a Man, we ſhall certainly be more
diſpoſed to follow his Advice. Therefore, let
no Man think that he can lead as good a mo-
ral Life without Faith, as with it; for this
Reaſon, Becauſe he who hath no Faith, can-
not, by the Strength of his own Reaſon or En-
deavours, ſo eaſily reſiſt Temptations, as the
other who depends upon God's Aſſiſtance in
the overcoming his Frailties, and is ſure to be
rewarded for ever in Heaven for his Victory
over them. Faith, ſays the Apoſtle, is the E-
vidence of Things not ſeen : He means, that
Faith is a Virtue by which any Thing com-
manded us by God to believe, appears evident
and certain to us, although we do not ſee, nor
can conceive it; becauſe, by Faith we entirely
depend upon the Truth and Power of God,
It
246
On the Trinity.
It is an old and true Diſtinction, that Things
may be above our Reaſon without being con-
trary to it. Of this Kind are the Power, the
Nature, and the univerſal Preſence of God,
with innumerable other Points. How little
do thoſe who quarrel with Myſteries, know of
the commoneft Actions of Nature? The
Growth of an Animal, of a Plant, or of the
ſmalleſt Seed, is a Myſtery to the wiſeſt among
Men. If an ignorant Perſon were told that a
Load-ſtone would draw Iron at a Diſtance, he
might ſay it was a Thing contrary to his Rea-
fon, and could not believe before he ſaw it
with his Eyes.
The Manner whereby the Soul and Body
are united, and how they are diſtinguiſhed, is
wholly unaccountable to us. We fee but one
Part, and yet we know we conſiſt of two;
and this is a Myſtery we cannot comprehend,
any more than that of the Trinity.
From what hath been ſaid, it is manifeſt,
that God did never command us to believe, nor
his Miniſters to preach, any Doctrine which is
contrary to the Reaſon he hath pleaſed to en-
dow us with ; but for his own wiſe Ends has
thought fit to conceal from us the Nature of
the Thing he commands; thereby to try our
Faith and Obedience, and encreaſe our De-
pendence upon him.
It is highly probable, that if God ſhould
pleaſe to reveal unto us this great Myſtery of
the Trinity, or ſome other Myſteries in our
Holy
1
On the Trinity.
247
Holy Religion, we ſhould not be able to under-
ſtand them, unleſs he would at the ſame time
think fit to beſtow on us ſome new Powers or
Faculties of the Mind, which we want at pre-
fent, and are reſerved till the Day of Reſur-
rection to Life eternal. For now, as the A-
poſtle
ſays, we ſee through a Glafs darkly, but
then Face to Face.
Thus, we ſee, the Matter is brought to this
Iſſue; we muſt either believe what God di-
rectly commandeth us in Holy Scripture, or wo
muſt wholly reject the Scripture, and the Chri-
ſtian Religion which we pretend to profeſs:
But this, I hope, is too deſperate a Step for
any of us to make.
I have already obſerved, that thoſe who
preach up the Belief of the Trinity, or of any
other Myſtery, cannot propoſe any Temporal
Advantage to themſelves by ſo doing. But
this is not the Caſe of thoſe who oppoſe theſe
Doctrines. Do they lead better moral Lives
than a good Chriſtian? Are they more juſt in
their Dealings? more chaſte, or temporate, or
or charitable? Nothing at all of this; but on
the contrary, their Intent is to overthrow all
Religion, that they may gratify their Vices
without any Reproach from the World, or
their own Conſcience; and are zealous to bring
over as many others as they can to their own
Opinions; becauſe it is ſome kind of imaginary
Comfort to have a Multitude on their Side.
There is no Miracle mentioned in Holy
Writ,
}
248
On the Trinity.
my will
Writ, which, if it were ſtrictly examined, is
not as much contrary to common Reaſon, and
as much a Myſtery as this Doctrine of the Tri-
nity; and therefore we may with equal Juſtice
deny the Truth of them all. For Inſtance :
It is againſt the Laws of Nature, that a Hu-
man Body ſhould be able to walk upon the
Water, as Saint Peter is recorded to have done ;
or that a dead Carcaſe ſhould be raiſed from
the Grave after three Days, when it began to be
corrupted; which thoſe who underſtand Anato-
will pronounce to be impoſſible by the com-
mon Rules of Nature and Reaſon. Yet theſe
Miracles, and many others, are poſitively af-
firmed in the Goſpel; and theſe we muſt
believe, or give up our Holy Religion to
Atheiſts and Infidels.
I ſhall now make a few Inferences and Ob-
fervations froin what hath been ſaid.
Firſt, It would be well, if People would not
lay ſo much Weight on their own Reaſon in
Matters of Religion, as to think every thing
impoſſible and abſurd which they cannot con-
ceive. How often do we contradict the right
Rules of Reaſon in the whole Courſe of our
Lives ? Reaſon itſelf is true and juſt, but the
Reafon of every particular Man is weak and
wavering, perpetually ſwayed and turned by
his Intereſts, his Paſſions, and his Vices. Let
any Man but conſider, when he hath a Con-
troverſy with another, although his Cauſe be
ever ſo unjuſt, although the World be againſt
him,
On the Trinity.
249
him, how blinded he is by the Love of himn-
ſelf, to believe that Right is Wrong, and
Wrong is Right, when it maketh for his own
Advantage. Where is then the right Uſe of
his Reaſon, which he ſo much boaſteth of, and
which he would blaſphemoully ſet up to con-
troul the Commands of the Almighty ?
Secondly. When Men are tempted to deny
the Myſteries of Religion, let them examine
and ſearch into their own Hearts, whether they
have not ſome favourite Sin which is of their
Party in this Diſpute, and which is equally
contrary to other Commands of God in the
Goſpel. For, why do Men love Darkneſs ra-
ther than Light? The Scripture telleth us, Be-
cauſe their Deeds are evil; and there can be no
other Reaſon aſſigned. Therefore when Men
are curious and inquiſitive to diſcover ſome
weak Sides in Chriſtianity, and inclined to fa-
vour every thing that is offered to its Diſadvan-
tage; it is plain they wiſh it were not true,
and thoſe Wiſhes can proceed from nothing
but an evil Conſcience; becauſe, if there be
Truth in our Religion, their Condition muſt
be miſerable.
And therefore, Thirdly, Men ſhould confi-
der, that raiſing Difficulties concerning the
Myſteries in Religion, cannot make them more
wiſe, learned, or virtuous; better Neighbours,
or Friends, or more ſerviceable to their Coun-
try; but, whatever they pretend, will deſtroy
their inward Peace of Mind, by perpetual
Doubts
250
On the Trinity.
Doubts and Fears ariſing in their Breaſts. And,
God forbid we ſhould ever ſee the Times fo
bad, when dangerous Opinions in Religion will
be a means to get Favour and Preferment; al-
though even in ſuch a Caſe it would be an ill
Traffick, to gain the World, and loſe our own
Souls. So, that upon the whole, it will be im-
poſſible to find any real Uſe towards a virtuous
or happy Life, by denying the Myſteries of the
Goſpel
Fourthly, Thoſe ſtrong Unbelievers, who
expect that all Myſteries ſhould be ſquared and
fitted to their own Reaſon, might have ſome-
what to ſay for themſelves, if they could fatisfy
the general Reaſon of Mankind in their other
Opinions : but herein they are miſerably defec-
tive, abſurd, and ridiculous; they ſtrain at a
Gnat, and ſwallow a Camel; they can believe
that the World was made by Chance ; that
God doth not concern himſelf with Things be-
low; will neither puniſh Vice, nor reward Vir-
tue ; that Religion was invented by cunning
Men to keep the World in Awe; with many
other Opinions equally falſe and deteſtable, a-
gainſt the common Light of Nature as well as
Reaſon; againſt the univerſal Sentiments of all
civilized Nations, and offenſive to the Ears
even of a ſober Heathen.
Laſtly. Since the World abounds with pe-
ſtilent Books, particularly written againſt this
Doctrine of the Trinity; it is fit to inform
you,
that the Authors of them proceed wholly
upon
On the Trinity.
251
upon a Miſtake: They would ſhew how im-
poſſible it is that Three can be One, and One can
be Three; whereas the Scripture faith no ſuch
Thing, at leaſt in that manner they would
make it : But, only, that there is ſome kind of
Unity and Diſtinction in the Divine Nature,
which Mankind cannot poſſibly comprehend:
Thus, the whole Doctrine is ſhort and plain,
and in itſelf uncapable of any Controverſy:
ſince God himſelf hath pronounced the Fact,
but wholly concealed the Manner. And there-
fore many Divines who thought fit to anſwer
thoſe wicked Books, have been miſtaken too,
by anſwering Fools in their Folly; and endea-
vouring to explain a Myſtery which God in-
tended to keep ſecret from us. And, as I would
exhort all Men to avoid reading thoſe wicked
Books written againſt this Doctrine, as dange-
rous and pernicious; ſo I think they may omit
the Anſwers, as unneceſſary. This I confeſs
will probably affect but few or none among
the Generality of our Congregations, who do
not much trouble themſelves with Books, at
leaſt of this kind. However, many who do
not read themſelves, are ſeduced by others that
do; and thus become Unbelievers upon Truſt
and at ſecond Hand; and this is too frequent
a Caſe: For which Reaſon I have endeavoured
to put this Doctrine upon a ſhort and ſure Foot,
levelled to the meaneſt Underſtanding; by
which we may, as the Apoſtle directs, be ready
always to give an Anſwer to every Man that
auketh
252
On the Trinity.
aſketh us a Reaſon of the Hope that is in us,
with Meekneſs and Fear.
And, thus I have done with my Subject,
which probably I ſhould not have choſen, if I
had not been invited to it by the Occaſion of
this Seaſon, appointed on Purpoſe to celebrate
the Myſteries of the Trinity, and the Deſcent
of the Holy Ghoſt, wherein we pray to be
kept ſtedfaſt in this Faith ; and what this Faith
is I have ſhewn you in the plaineſt manner I
could. For, upon the whole, it is no more
than this: God commandeth us, by our De-
pendence upon his Truth and his holy Word,
to believe a Fact that we do not underſtand.
And, this is no more than what we do every
Day in the Works of Nature, upon the Cre-
dit of Men of Learning. Without Faith we
can do no Works acceptable to God; for, if
they proceed from any other Principle, they
will not advance our Salvation; and this Faith,
as I have explained it, we may acquire with-
out giving up our Senſes, or contradicting our
Reaſon. May God of his infinite Mercy in-
ſpire us with true Faith in every Article and
Myſtery of our Holy Religion, ſo as to diſ-
poſe us to do what is pleaſing in his Sight; and
this we pray through Jeſus Chriſt, to whom,
with the Father and the Holy Ghoſt, the my-
ſterious incomprehenſible One God, be all
Honour and Glory now and for evermore.
Amen.
T HE
DIFFICULTY
OF
Knowing One's Self.
A
SERMON.
VOL. VIII.
X
The following Advertiſement was prefixed to
this Sermon by the Editor in London.
ΤΗ
'HE Manuſcript Title Page of the follow-
ing Sermon being loft, and no Memoran-
dums writ upon it, as there were upon the others,
when and where it was preached, made the Edi-
tor doubtful whether he ſhould print it as the
Dean's, or 110t. But its being found amongſt
the ſame Papers; and the Hand, although writ
ſomewhat better, bearing a great Similitude to
the Dean's, made him willing to lay it before the
Publick, that they might judge whether the Stile
and Manner alſo do not render it ſtill more pro-
bable to be his.
( 255 )
THE
DIFFIC U L T Y
OF
Knowing One's self .
A
S E R M O N.
2 Kings viii. Part of the 13th Verſe.
And Hazael faid, But what, is thy Servant a
Dog, that he should do this great Thing?
W
E have here a very fignal Inſtance of
the Deceitfulneſs of the Heart, repre-
fented to us in the Perſon of Hazael; who was
ſent to the Prophet Eliſha, to enquire of the
Lord concerning his Maſter the King of Syria's
Recovery. For the Man of God having told
him that the King might recover from the Diſ-
order he was then labouring under, begun to
ſet and faſten his Countenance upon him of a
ſudden, and to break out into the moſt violent
Expreffions
X 2
256 The DIFFICULTY of
Expreſſions of Sorrow, and a deep Concern for
it; whereupon, when Hazael, full of Shame
and Confuſion, aſked, Why weepeth my Lord?
he anſwered, Becauſe I know all the Évil that
thou wilt do unto the Children of Iſrael; their
ſtrong Holds wilt thou ſet on fire, and their young
Men wilt thou ſay with the Sword, and wilt daſh
their Children, and rip up their Women with
Child. Thus much did the Man of God ſay
and know of him, by a Light darted into his
Mind from Heaven. But Hazael not knowing
himſelf ſo well as the other did, was ſtartled
and amazed at the Relation, and would not
believe it poſſible that a Man of his Temper
could ever run out into ſuch enormous Inſtances
of Cruelty and Inhumanity. What, ſays he,
is thy Servant a Dog, that he should do this great
Thing?
And yet, for all this, it is highly probable
that he was then that very Man, he could not
imagine himſelf to be; for we find him, on
the very next Day after his Return, in a very
treacherous and diſloyal Manner murdering his
own Maſter, and uſurping his Kingdom ;
which was but a Prologue to that fad Tragedy
which he afterwards acted upon the People of
Ifrael.
And now the Caſe is but very little better
with moſt Men, than it was with Hazael;
however it came to paſs, they are wonderfully
unacquainted with their own Temper and Dir-
poſition, and know very little of what paſſes
within
.
Knowing One’s Self.
257
within them : For of ſo many proud, ambiti-
ous, revengeful, envying, and ill-natured Per-
ſons that are in the World, where there is one
of them, who although he hath all the Symp-
toms of the Vice appearing upon every Occaſion,
can look with ſuch an impartial Eye upon him-
ſelf, as to believe that the Imputation thrown
upon him is not altogether groundleſs and un-
fair? who, if he were told by Men of a dif-
cerning Spirit and a ſtrong Conje&ture, of all
the evil and abſurd Things which that falſe
Heart of his would at one Time or other be-
tray
him into, would not believe as little, and
wonder as much as Hazael did before? Thus,
for Inſtance; tell an angry Perſon, that he is
weak and impotent, and of no Conſiſtency of
Mind; tell him, that ſuch or ſuch a little Ac-
cident, which he may then deſpiſe, and think
inuch below a Paſſion, ſhall hereafter make
him fay and do ſeveral abſurd, indiſcreet, and
miſbecoming Things : He may perhaps own
that he hath a Spirit of Reſentment within him,
that will not let him be impoſed on, but he
fondly imagine that he can lay a becoming Re-
ſtraint upon it when he pleaſeth, although it is
ever running away with him into fome Inde-
cency or other
Therefore, to bring down the Words of
Text to our preſent Occafion, I ſhall endeavour,
in a further Proſecution of them, to evince the
great Neceſſity of a nice and curious Inſpection
into the ſeveral Receſſes of the Heart, that be-
ing
my
258 The DIFFICULTY of
ing the fureſt and ſhorteſt Method that a
wicked Man can take to reform himſelf; For
let us but ſtop the Fountain, and the Streams
will ſpread and waſte themſelves away in a very
little Time; but if we go about, like Children,
to raiſe a Bank, and to ſtop the Current, not
taking Notice all the while of the Spring which
continually feedeth it, when the next Flood of a
Temptation riſeth and breaketh in upon it, when
we ſhall find that we have begun at the wrong
End of our Duty, and that we are very little
more the better for it, than if we had fat ſtill,
and made no Advances at all.
But, in order to a clearer Explanation of
this Point, I ſhall ſpeak to theſe following Par-
ticulars.
Firſt, By endeavouring to prove, from par-
ticular Inſtances, that Man is generally
the moſt ignorant Creature in the World
of himſelf.
Secondly, By enquiring into the Grounds and
Reaſons of this Ignorance.
Thirdly, and Laſtly, By propoſing ſeveral
Advantages that do moſt aſſuredly attend a
due Improvement in the Knowledge of
ourſelves.
Firſt then. To prove that Man is generally
the moſt ignorant Creature in the World, of
himſelf,
To
Knowing One's Self. 259
To purſue the Heart of Man through all
the Inſtances of Life, in all its ſeveral Wind-
ings and Turnings, and under that infinite Va-
riety of Shapes and Appearances which it putteth
on, would be a difficult and almoſt impoſſible
Undertaking; ſo that I ſhall confine myſelf to
ſuch as have a nearer Reference to the preſent
Occaſion, and do, upon a cloſer View, ſhew
themſelves through the whole Buſineſs of Re-
pentance. For we all know what it is to re-
pent, but whether he repenteth him truly of his
Sins or no, who can know it?
Now the great Duty of Repentance is chiefly
made
up
of theſe two Parts, a hearty Sorrow for
the Follies and Miſcarriages of the Time paſt,
and a full Purpoſe and Reſolution of Amend-
ment for the Time to come.
Thew the Falſeneſs of the Heart in both theſe
Parts of Repentance. And
Firſt, As to a hearty Sorrow for the Sins and
Miſcarriages of the Time paſt. Is there a more
uſual Thing than for a Man to impofe upon
himſelf, by putting on a grave and demure
Countenance, by caſting a ſecure Look into his
paſt Conduct, and making ſome few pious and
devout Reflections upon it, and then to believe
that he hath repented to an excellent Purpoſes.
without ever letting it ſtep forth into Practie,
and ſhew itſelf in a holy Converſation ? Nay,
fome Perſons do carry the Dcceit a little higher ;
who, if they can but bring themſelves to weep
for their Sins, they are then full of an ill-
grounded
And now, to
260 The DIFFICULTY of
grounded Confidence and Security; never con-
ſidering that all this may prove to be no more
than the very Garb and outward Dreſs of a
contrite Heart, which another Heart, as hard
as the nether Mill-ſtone, may as well put on,
For Tears and Sighs, however in ſome Perſons
they may be decent and commendable Expreffi-
ons of a godly Sorrow, are neither neceſſary,
nor infallible Signs of a true and unfeigned
Repentance. Not neceſſary, becauſe ſome-
times, and in ſome Perſons, the inward Grief
and Anguilh of the Mind may be too big to be ex-
preſſed by ſo little a Thing as a Tear, and then
it turneth its Edge inwards upon the Mind;
and like thoſe Wounds of the Body which
bleed inwardly, it generally proves the moſt
fatal and dangerous to the whole Body of Sin :
Not infallible, becauſe a very ſmall Portion of
Sorrow may make ſome tender Diſpoſitions
melt, and break out into Tears; or a Man may
perhaps weep at parting with his Sins, as he
would to bid the laſt Farewel to an old Friend
that he was ſure never to ſee again.
But there is ſtill a more pleaſant Cheat in
this Affair, that when we find a Deadneſs, and
a ſtrange Kind of Unaptneſs and Indiſpoſition
I all Impreſſions of Religion, and that we can-
ot be as truly ſorry for our Sins as we ſhould
be, we then pretend to be ſorry that we are
not more ſorry for them ; which is not leſs ab-
{urd and irrational, than that a Man ſhould pre-
tend
Knowing One's Self.
261
tend to be very angry at a Thing, becauſe he
did not know how to be angry at all.
But after all, what is wanting in this Part of
Repentance, we expect to inake it up in the
next; and to that Purpoſe we put on a Reſolu-
tion of Amendment, which we take to be as
firm as a Houſe built upon a Rock; ſo that let
the Floods ariſe, and the Winds blow, and the
Streams beat vehemently upon it, nothing ſhall
ſhake it into Ruin and Diſorder. We doubt
not, upon the Strength of this Reſolve, to ſtand
faſt and unmoved amidſt the Storm of a Temp-
tation; and do firmly believe, at the Time we
make it, that nothing in the World will ever
be able to make us commit thoſe Sins over a-
gain, which we have ſo firmly reſolved againſt.
Thus many a Time have we come to the Sa-
crament of the Lord's Supper, with a full Pur-
poſe of Amendment, and with as full a Per-
ſwaſion of putting that ſame Purpoſe into Prac-
tice; and yet have we not all as often broke
that good Purpoſe, and falſified that ſame Per-
ſwaſion, by ſtarting aſide, like a broken Bow,
into thoſe very Sins, which we then ſo folemn-
ly and ſo confidently declared againſt ?
Whereas, had but any other Perſon entered
with us into a Vow fo folemn, that he had
taken the Holy Sacrament upon it, I believe
had he but once deceived us by breaking in up-
on the Vow, we ſhould hardly ever after be
prevailed upon to truſt that Man again, altho?
we
262 The DIFFICULTY of
we ſtill continue to truſt our own Hearts, a-
gainſt Reaſon and againſt Experience.
This indeed is a dangerous Deceit enough,
and will of Courſe betray all thoſe well-mean-
ing Perſons into Sin and Folly, who are apt to
take Religion for a much eaſier thing than it is.
But this is not the only Miſtake we are apt to
run into; we do not only think ſometimes
that we can do more than we can do, but
ſometimes that we are incapable of doing leſs;
an Error of another Kind indeed, but not leſs
dangerous, ariſing from a Diffidence and a falſe
Humility. For how much a wicked Man can
do in the Buſineſs of Religion, if he would do
his beft, is very often more than he can tell.
Thus nothing is more common than to ſee
a wicked Man running headlong into Sin and
Folly, againſt his Realon, againſt his Religion,
and againſt his God. Tell him, that what he
is going to do will be an infinite Diſparagement
to his Underſtanding, which, at another Time,
he ſets no ſmall upon; tell him that it will
blacken his Reputation, which he had rather
die for than loſe; tell him that the Pleaſure of
the Sin is ſhort and tranſient, and leaveth a
vexatious Kind of a Sting behind it, which will
very hardly be drawn forth; tell him that this
is one of thoſe things for which God will moſt
ſurely bring him to Judgment, which he pre-
tendeth to believe with a full Aflurance and Per-
ſuafion: And yet for all this, he ſhuteth his
Eyes againſt all Conviction, and ruſheth into
the
Knowing One's Self. 263
the Sin, like a Horſe into the Battle ; as if he
had nothing left to do, but like a filly Child to
wink hard, and to think to eſcape a certain and
an infinite Miſchief, only by endeavouring not
to ſee it.
And now to ſhew that the Heart hath given
in a falſe Report of the Temptation, we may
learn from this, that the ſame weak Man would
reſiſt and maſter the ſame powerful Temptati-
on, upon Conſiderations of infinitely leſs Va-
lue, than thoſe which Religion offers, nay, ſuch
vile Conſiderations, that the Grace of God can-
not without Blaſphemy be ſuppoſed to add any
manner of Force and Efficacy to them. Thus
for Inſtance, it would be a hard Matter to dreſs
up a Sin in ſuch ſoft and tempting Circumſtan-
ces, that a truly covetous Man would not refift
for a conſiderable Sum of Money; when nei-
ther the Hopes of Heaven nor the Fears of
Hellcould make an Impreſſion upon him beforc.
But can any thing be a ſurer Indication of the
Deceitfulneis of the Heart, than thus to fhew
more Courage, Reſolution, and Activity in an
ill Cauſe, than it doth in a good one ? and to
exert itſelf to better Purpoſe, when it is to
ſerve its own Pride, or Luft, or Revenge, or
any other Paſſion, than when it is to ſerve God
upon the Motives of the Goſpel, and upon all
the Arguments that have ever been made uſe
of to bring Men over to Religion and a good
Life? And thus having ſhewn that a Man is
wonderfully apt to deceive and impoſe upon
himſelf,
264
The DIFFICULTY of
himſelf, in paſſing through the ſeveral Stages
of that great Duty, Repentance, I proceed
now in the
Second Place, To enquire into the Grounds
and Reaſons of this Ignorance, and to fhew
whence it cometh to paſs that a Man, the only
Creature in the World that can reflect and look
into himſelf, ſhould know ſo little of what paſſeth
within him, and be ſo very much unucquainted
even with the ſtanding Diſpoßtions and Complex-
ion of his own Heart. The prime Reaſon of it
is, becauſe we ſo very ſeldom converſe with
ourſelves, and take ſo little Notice of what
pafſeth within us: For a Man can no more
know his own Heart than he can know his
own Face, any other Way than by Reflection :
He may as well tell over every Feature of the
ſmaller Portions of his face without the Help
of a Looking-Glaſs, as he can tell all the in-
ward Bents and Tendencies of the Soul, thoſe
ftinding Features and Lineaments of the inward
Mn, and know all the various Changes that
this is liable to from Cuſtom, from Paſſion, and
from Opinion, without a very frequent Uſe of
looking within himſelf.
For our Paſſions and Inclinations are not al-
ways upon the Wing, and always moving to-
wards their reſpective Objects, but retire now
and then into the more dark and hidden Re-
ceſſes of the Heart, where they lie concealed
for a while, until a freſh Occaſion calls them
forth again : So that not every tranſient, oblique
Glance
Knowing One's Self.
265
Glance upon the Mind can bring a Man into a
thorough Knowledge of all its Strengths and
Weakneſſes; for a Man may ſometimes turn
the Eye of the Mind inward upon itſelf, as he
may behold his natural Face in a Glafs, and
go
away, and ſtrait forget what manner of Man he
was. But a Man muſt rather ſit down and un-
ravel every Action of the paſt Day into all its
Circumſtances and Particularities, and obſerve
how every little thing moved and affected him,
and what manner of Impreſſion it made upon
his Heart; this done with that Frequency and
Carefulneſs which the Importance of the Duty
doth require, would in a ſhort time bring him
into a near and intimate Acquaintance with
himſelf.
Bit when Men inſtead of this do paſs away
Months and Years in a perfect Slumber of the
Mind, without once awaking it, it is no Won-
der they ſhould be ſo very ignorant of them-
felves, and know very little more of what par-
feth within them, than the very Beaſts which
periſh. But here it may not be amiſs to en-
quire into the Reaſons why moſt Men have ſo
little Converſation with themſelves,
And 1/, Becauſe this Reflection is a Work
and Labour of the Mind, and cannot be per-
formed without ſome Pain and Difficulty: For
before a Man can reflect upon himſelf, and
look into his Heart with a ſteady Eye, he muſt
contract his Sight, and collect all his ſcattered
and roving Thoughts into ſome Order and
Compaſs,
266 The DIFFICULTY of
Compaſs, that he may be able to take a clear
and diſtinct View of them; he muſt retire
from the World for a while, and be unattentive
to all Impreſſions of Senſe; and how hard and
painful a thing muſt it needs be to a Man of
Paſſion and Infirmity, amidſt ſuch a Crowd of
Objects that are continually ſtriking upon the
Senſe, and ſolliciting the Afections, not to be
moved and interrupted by one or other of
them. But,
2dly, Another Reaſon why we ſo feldom con-
verſe with ourſelves, is, becauſe the Buſineſs of
the World taketh up all our Time, and leaveth
us no Portion of it to be ſpent upon this
great
Work and Labour of the Mind. Thus twelve
or fourteen Years paſs away before we can well
diſcern Good from Evil ; and of the reſt ſo
much goeth away in Sleep, ſo much in the or-
dinary Buſineſs of Life, and ſo much in the
proper Buſineſs of our Calling, that we have
none to lay out upon the more ſerious and reli-
gious Employments. Every Man's Life is an
imperfect Sort of a Circle, which he repeateth
and runneth over every Day; he hath a Set of
Thoughts, Deſires, and Inclinations which re-
turn upon him in their proper Time and Or-
der, and will very hardly be laid aſide to make
room for any thing new and uncommon: So
that call upon him when you pleaſe, to ſet a-
bout the Study of his own Heart, and you are
ſure to find him pre-engaged ; either he hath
ſome Buſineſs to do, or ſome Diverſion to take,
fome
!
Knowing One's Self. 267
ſome Acquaintance that he muſt viſit, or ſome
Company that he muſt entertain, or ſome croſs
Accident hath put him out of Humour, and
unfitted him for ſuch a grave Employment.
And thus it cometh to paſs that a Man can never
find Leiſure to look into himſelf, becauſe he
doth not ſet apart ſome Portion of the Day for
that very Purpoſe, but fooliſhly deferreth it
from one Day to another, until his Glaſs is al-
moſt run out, and he is called upon to give a
miſerable Aecount of himſelf in the other
World. But,
3dly, Another Reaſon why a Man doth not
more frequently converſe with himſelf, is, be-
cauſe ſuch a Converſation with his own Heart
may diſcover ſome Vice or ſome Infirmity
lurking within him, which he is very unwilling
to believe himſelf guilty of. For, can there
be a more ungrateful Thing to a Man, than to
find that upon a nearer View he is not that
Perſon he took himſelf to be? that he hath
neither the Courage, nor the Honeſty, nor the
Piety, nor the Humility that he dreamt he had?
thata very little Pain, for inſtance, putteth him
out of all Patience, and as little Pleaſure foften-
eth and diſarmeth him into Eaſe and Wanton-
neſs ? that he hath been at more Pains, and La-
bour, and Coſt, to be revenged of an Enemy,
than to oblige the beſt Friend he hath in the
World ? that he cannot bring himſelf to ſay his
Prayers without a great deal of Reluctancy;
and when he doth ſay them, the Spirit and Fer-
VOUS
268
The DIFFICULTY of
vour of Devotion evaporateth in a very ſhort
Time, and he can ſcarcely hold out a Prayer
of ten Lines, without a Number of idle and
impertinent, if not vain and wicked Thoughts
coming into his Head Theſe are very unwel-
come Diſcoveries that a Man may make of him-
ſelf; ſo that it is no wonder that every one;
who is already fluſhed with a good Opinion of
himſelf, ſhould rather ſtudy how to run away
from it, than how to converſe with his own
Heart.
But further: If a Man were both able and
willing to retire into his own Heart, and to ſet
apart fome Portion of the Day for that very
Purpoſe; yet he is ſtill diſabled from paſſing a
fair and impartial Judgment upon himſelf, by
ſeveral Difficulties, ariſing partly from Preju-
dice and Prepoſſeflion, partly from the lower
Appetites and Inclinations. And,
Firſt, That the Buſineſs of Prepoſſeſſion may
lead and betray a Man into a falſe Judgment of
his own Heart. For we may obſerve, that the
firſt Opinion we take up of any Thing, or of
any Perſon, doth generally ſtick cloſe to us;
the Nature of the Mind being ſuch, that it
cannot but defire, and conſtantly endeavour to
have ſome certain Principles to go upon, ſome-
thing fixed and unmoveable, whereon it may
reſt and ſupport itſelf. And hence it cometh
to paſs, that ſome Perſons are with ſo much
Difficulty brought to think well of a Man they
have once entertained an ill Opinion of; and
per-
Knowing One's Self. 269
perhaps, that too for a very abſurd and unwarı
rantable Reaſon. But how much more difficult
then muſt it be for a Man, who taketh up a
fond Opinion of his own Heart, long before he
hath either Years or Senſe enough to underſtand
it, either to be perſuaded out of it by himſelf,
whom he loveth ſo well, or by another, whoſe
Intereſt or Diverſion it may be to make him
aſhamed of himſelf? Then
Secondly, As to the Difficulties ariſing from
the inferior Appetites and Inclinations, let any
Man look into his own Heart, and obſerve in
how different a Light, and under what diffe-
rent Complexions any two Sins of equal Tur-
pitude and Malignity do appear to him, if he
hath but a ſtrong Inclination to the one, and
none at all to the other. That which he hath
an Inclination to, is always dreſſed in all tha
falſe Beauty that a fond and buſy Imagination
can give it; the other appeareth naked and de-
formed, and in all the true Circumſtances of
Folly and Diſhonour. Thus, Stealing is z
Vice that few Gentlemen are inclined to; and
they juſtly think it below the Dignity of a Man
to ſtoop to fo baſe and low a Sin; but no Prin-
ciple of Honour, no Workings of the Mind
and Conſcience, not the ſtill Voice of Mercy,
not the dreadful Call of Judgment, nor any
Conſiderations whatever, can put a Stop to
that Violence and Oppreſſion, that Pride and
Ambition, that Revelling and Wantonneſs,
which we every Day meet with in the World.
Vol. VIII.
Y
Nay,
up i
270
The DIFFICULTY of
ز
Nay, it is eaſy to obſerve very different
Thoughts in a Man, of the Sin that he is moſt
fond of, according to the different Ebbs and
Flows of his Inclination to it. For, as ſoon as
the Appetite is alarmed, and ſeizeth upon the
Heart, a little Cloud gathereth about the Head,
and ſpreadeth a kind of Darkneſs over the Face
of the Soul, whereby it is hindered from take-
ing a clear and diſtinct View of Things; but
no ſooner is the Appetite tired and ſatiated, but
that fame Cloud paſſeth away like a Shadow,
and a new Light ſpringing up in the Mind of
a ſudden, the Man ſeeth much more, both of
the Folly and of the Danger of the Sin, than
he did before.
And thus having done with the ſeveral Rea-
ſons why Man, the only Creature in the
World that can reflect and look into himſelf, is
ſo very ignorant of what pafſeth within him,
and ſo much unacquainted with the ſtanding
Diſpoſitions and Complexion of his own Heart:
I proceed now, in the
Third and Laſt Place, to lay down ſeveral
Advantages, that do moſt aſuredly attend a due
Improvement in the Knowledge of ourſelves.
And,
Firſt, One great Advantage is, that it tendeth
very much to mortify and humble a Man into
a modeſt and low Opinion of himſelf. For, let
a Man take a nice and curious Inſpection into
all the ſeveral Regions of the Heart, and ob-
ſerve every thing irregular and amiſs within
him;
Knowing One's Self:
271
hin; for Inſtance, low narrow and ſhort-
lighted a Thing is the Underſtanding; upon
how little Reaſon do we take up an Opinion,
and upcn how much leſs ſometimes do we lay
it down again. How weak and falſe Ground
do we often walk upon with the greateſt Confi-
dence and Aſſurance, and how tremulous and
doubtful we are very often, where no Doubt is
to be made: Again ; how wild and impertinent,
how buſy and incoherent a Thing is the Imagi-
nation, even in the beſt and wiſeit Men; info
much, that every Man may be ſaid to be mad,
but every Man doth not ſhew it. Then as to
the Paſſions; how noiſy, how turbulent, and
how tumultuous they are; how eaſily are they
ſtirred and ſet a going, how eager and hot in
the Purſuit, and what ſtrange Diſorder and
Confuſion do they throw a Man into; ſo that
he can neither think, nor ſpeak, nor act as he
ſhould do, while he is under the Dominion of
any one of them.
Thus, let every Man look with a ſevere and
impartial Eye into all the diſtinct Regions of
the Heart, and, no doubt, ſeveral Deformities
and Irregularities, that he never thought of,
will open and diſcloſe themſelves upon ſo near
a View ; and rather make the Man
aſhamed of
himſelf, than proud.
Secondly, A due Improvement in the Know-
ledge of ourſelves, doth certainly ſecure us from
the fly and inſinuating Affaults of Flattery.
There is not in the World a baſer, and more
hateful
Y
272
The DIFFICULTY of
ز
hateful Thing than Flattery; it proceedeth front
ſo much Falſeneſs and Inſincerity in the Man
that giveth it, and often diſcovereth ſo much
Weakneſs and Folly in the Man that taketh it,
that it is hard to tell which of the two is moſt
to be blamed. Every Man of common Senfe
can demonſtrate in Speculation, and may be
fully convinced, that all the Praiſes and Com-
mendations of the whole World can add no
more to the real and intrinſick Value of a Man,
than they can add to his Stature. And yet,
for all this, Men of the beſt Senſe and Piety,
when they come down to the Practice, cannot
forbear thinking much better of themſelves,
when they have the good Fortune to be ſpoken
well of by other Perſons.
But the Meaning of this abſurd Proceeding
ſeemeth to be no other than this; there are
few Men that have ſo intimate an Acquaintance
with their own Heart, as to know their own
real Worth, and how to ſet a juſt Rate upon
themſelves, and therefore they do not know,
but that he who praiſes them moſt, may be
moſt in the right of it. For, no doubt, if a
Man were ignorant of the true Value of a Thing
he loved as well as himſelf, he would meaſure
the Worth of it according to the Eſteem of
him who biddeth moſt for it, rather than of
him that biddeth leſs.
Therefore, the moſt infallible Way to diſen-
tangle a Man from the Snares of Flattery, is to
conſult and ſtudy his own Heart; for whoever
does
Knowing One's Self.
273
does that well, will hardly be ſo abſurd, as to
take another Man's Word before his own Senſe
and Experience.
Thirdly, Another Advantage from this kind
of Study is this, that it teacheth a Man how
to behave himſelf patiently, when he has the
ill Fortune to be cenſured and abuſed by other
People. For a Man who is thoroughly ac-
quainted with his own Heart, doth already
know much more Evil of himſelf, than any
Body elſe can tell him; and when any one
ſpeaketh ill of him, he rather thanketh God,
that he can ſay no worſe. For, could his Ene-
my
but look into the dark and hidden Receffes
of the Heart, he conſidereth what a Number of
impure Thoughts he might there ſee brooding
and hovering like a dark Cloud upon the Face
of the Soul; that there he might take a Proſpect
of the Fancy, and view it acting over the feve-
ral Scenes of Pride, of Ambition, of Envy, of
Luſt, and Revenge, that there he might tell
how often a vicious Inclination hath been re-
ſtrained, for no other Reaſon but juſt to ſave
the Man's Credit or Intereſt in the World ; and
how many unbecoming Ingredients have entered
into the Compoſition of his beft Actions. And
now, what Man in the whole world would be
able to bear ſo ſevere a Teſt, to have every
Thought and inward Motion of the Heart laid
open and expoſed to the View of his Enemies?
But,
Fourthly, and Laftly; Another Advantage of
this
1
274-
The DIFFICULTY of
this kind is, that it maketh Men leſs ſevere
up-
on other People's Faults, and leſs buſy and in-
duſtrious in ſpreading them. For a Man, em-
ployed at Home, inſpecting into his own Fail-
ings, hath not Leiſure enough to take Notice
of every little Spot and Blemiſh that lieth ſcat-
tered upon others.
others. Or, if he cannot eſcape the
Sight of them, he always paſſes the moſt eaſy
and favourable Conſtruction upon them. Thus,
for inſtance; Does the Ill he knoweth of a Man
proceed from an unhappy Temper and Conſti-
tution of Body? he then conſidereth within him-
ſelf, how hard a Thing it is, not to be borne
down with the Current of the Blood and Spi-
rits, and accordingly layeth ſome Part of the
Blame upon the Weakneſs of human Nature,
for he hath felt the Force and Rapidity of it
within his own Breaſt; although perhaps, in
another Inſtance, he remembereth how it
rageth and ſwelleth by Oppoſition ; and, al-
though it may be reſtrained, or diverted for a
while, yet it can hardly ever be totally ſub-
dued.
Or, has the Man finned out of Cuſtom ? he
then, from his own Experience, traceth a Ha-
Sit into the very firſt Riſe and imperfect Begin-
nings of it; and can tell by how flow and in-
ſenſible Advances it creepeth upon the Heart;
how it worketh itſelf by Degrees into the very
Frame and Texture of it, and ſo pafſeth into a
ſecond Nature ; and conſequently he hath a
juſt Senſe of the great Difficulty for him to
learn
Knowing One's Self. 275
learn to do Good, who hath been long accus-
tomed to do Evil.
Or, Laſtly, Hath a falſe Opinion betrayed
him into a Sin? He then calleth to Mind what
wrong Apprehenſions he hath had of ſome
Things himſelf; how many Opinions, that he
once made no Doubt of, he hath, upon a ſtrict-
er Examination, found to be doubtful and un-
certain ; how many more to be unreaſonable
and abſurd. He knoweth further, that there are
a great many more Opinions that he hath never
yet examined into at all, and which, however,
he ſtill believeth, for no other Reaſon, but be-
cauſe he hath believed them ſo long already
without a Reaſon. Thus, upon every Occaſi-
on, a Man intimately acquainted with himſelf,
confulteth his own Heart, and maketh every
Man's Caſe to be his own (and ſo puts the moſt
favourable Interpretation upon it.) Let every
Man therefore look into his own Heart, before
he beginneth to abuſe the Reputation of another,
and then he will hardly be ſo abſurd, as to
throw a Dart that will ſo certainly rebound and
wound himſelf. And thus, through the whole
Courſe of his Converſation, let him keep an
Eye upon that one great and comprehenſive
Rule of Chriſtian Duty, on which hangeth not
only the Law and the Prophets, but the very
Life and Spirit of the Goſpel too; Whatſoever
ye would that Men ſould do unto you, do you even
To unto them. Which Rule, that we may all
duly obſerve, by chrowing aſide all Scandal and
Detraction,
276 The DIFFICULTY of
Detraction, all Spite and Rancour, all Rude-
neſs and Contempt, all Rage and Violence, and
whatſoever tendeth to make Converſation and
Commerce either uneaſy, or troubleſome, may
the God of Peace grant for Jeſus Chriſt's Sake,
&c.
Conſider what hath been ſaid, and the Lord
give you a right Underſtanding in all Things.
To whom with the Son and the Holy Gholt,
Þe all Honour and Glory, now and for ever,
'
The END,
The Duty of Servants.
277
+
THE
DUTY of Servants at Inns.
B
E mounted before
your
Maſter. When
you ſee him mounted, ride out before
him. When he baiteth at Noon, enter the Inn-
Gate before him, and call the Oſtler to hold
your Maſter's Horſe while he alights. Leave
your Maſter to the Servants of the Inn; go
you with the Horſes into the Stable ; chuſe a
Place fartheſt from the Stable-Door ; ſee the
Standing be dry; ſend immediately for freſh
Straw; ſee all the old Hay out of the Rack,
and get freih put in ; ſee your Horſes Girths
be looſed and ſtuffed ; take not off the Bridle
until they are cool, nor Saddles in an Hour; ſee
their Hoofs be well picked; try if the Heads
of the Nails be faſt, and whether they be well
clinched, if not, ſend preſently for a Smith;
always ſtand by while the Smith is employed.
Give the Oats the laſt thing. Water your
Horſes when you are within a Mile or more of
the Inn. Never keep above forty Yards before
or behind your Maſter, unleſs he commands
you.
278 The Duty of Servants.
you. Try the Oats by ſmelling and weighing
them; ſee you have good Meaſure ; ſtand by
while your Horſes are eating their Oats. When
you enter your Evening-Inn, let your Horſes
Feet be ſtuffed with Cow-Dung every Night.
Obſerve the ſame Rules, only be ſure if any
thing be wanting for a Smith, let it be done
over Night.
Know the Time your Maſter will ſet out in
the Morning : Allow him a full Hour to get
himſelf ready. Contrive both at Morn and
Noon to eat, fo that your Maſter need not ſtay
for
you.
Do not let the Drawer carry the Bill
to your Maſter, but examine it firſt carefully
and honeſtly, and then bring it yourſelf, and
be able to account for every Article. If the
Servants have not been civil, tell
before their Faces, when he is going to give
them Money.
your Master
Duty of the other Servant, where there are two.
Ride forty Yards behind your Maſter, but be
mounted before him. Obſerve now and then
whether his Horſe's Shoes be right. When you
come to an Inn at Noon, give your Horſe to the
Oftler; beſtir yourſelf to get a convenient
Room for your Maſter; bring all his Things in-
to his Room, full in his Sight; enquire what
is in the Houſe, fee it yourſelf, and tell your
M:fter how you like it. Step yourſelf now
and then into the Kitchen to halten Dioner or
Supper,
The Duty of Servants.
279
Supper, and obſerve whether they be cleanly.
Taite the Ale, and tell your Maſter whether it
be good or bad. If he wants Wine, go with
the Drawer and chuſe a Bottle well filled and
ſtopped: If the Wine be in Hogſheads, deſire
to taſte and ſmell it; if it be four, or not clean,
or ill-taſted, let your Maſter know it, that he
may not be at the Charge of Wine not fit to
be drunk. See the Salt be dry and powdered,
the Bread new and clean, the Knives ſharp.
At Night obſerve the ſame Rules: But firſt
chuſe him a warm Room, with a Lock and
Key in order, then call immediately for the
Sheets, ſee them well aired and at a large Fire;
feel theBlankets, Bed, Bolſter,and Pillow,whether
they be dry, and whether the Floor under the
Bed be damp. Let the Chamber be that which
hath been lait lain in ; enquire about it. If
the Bed itſelf be damp, let it be brought be-
fore a large Fire, and air it on both sides,
That you may forget nothing in the Inn, have
a fair Liſt of all that you want to take out;
and when
up, compare them with
you put them
your Lift.
You are to ſtep now and then into the Stable
to ſee whether the Groom performeth his Duty.
For packing up your Things, have a Liſt of
Linen, 30. In packing take care that no two
hard Things be together, and that they be
wrapped up in Paper or Towels. Have a good
Proviſion of large coarſe Paper, and other
waſte Paper. Remember to put every thing in
their
280 The Duty of Servants.
your Maſter
your Maſter
their
proper Places in the Portmanteau. Stuff
the Shoes and Slippers at the Toes with a ſmall
Lock of Hay; fold up the Cloaths, ſo as that
they may not be rumpled. When
is in his Room at Night, put all his Things in
ſuch a Manner as he has them at home.
Learn to have ſome Skill in Cookery, that at a
Pinch
you may be able to make
eaſy.
The Groom. Carry with you a Stirrup-Lea-
ther, an Awl, twelve Horſe Nails, and a
Horſe's Fore-Shoes, Pick and a Hammer, for
fear of an Accident; and ſome Ends, and Pack-
thread, a Bottle-ſkrew, Knife and Pen-knife,
Needles, Pins, Thread, Silk, Worſted, &c.
Some Plaiſters and Sciſfars.
Item, the Servants to carry their own Things.
Have a Pocket-book, keep all the Bills, date
the Time and Place; and endorſe the Numbers.
Enquire in every Town if there be any thing
worth ſeeing. Obſerve the Country Seats, and
aſk who they belong to; and enter them, and
the Counties where they are.
Search under your Maſter's Bed when he is
gone up, left a Cat or ſomething elſe
may
be
under it.
When
your
Maſter's Bed is made, and his
Things ready, lock the Chamber Door, and
keep the Key until he goeth to Bed; then keep
it in your Pocket until Morn.
Let the Servants of the Inn be ſure to wake
you above an Hour before your Maſter is to
gos
The Duty of Servants. 281
go,
that he may have an Hour to prepare him-
ſelf.
If the Oftler hath been knavilh or negli-
gent, do not let him hold your Maſter's Horſe.
Obſerve the ſame Rule at a Gentleman's Houſe;
if the Groom hath not taken Care of your
Horſes, do not let him hold
your Maſter's
Enquire at every Inn where you ſtay, what
is the beſt Inn in the next Town you are to
come to; yet do not rely on that, but likewiſe,
as you enter into the Town to ſtay, aſk the
People which is the beſt Inn, and go to that
which moſt people commend.
See that your Maſter's Boots be dried and
well liquored over Night.
Bons
282
Bons Mots de STELLA.
Bons Mots de STELLA.
Lady of my intimate Acquaintance both
in England and Ireland, in which laſt
Kingdom The lived from the eighteenth Year
of her Age, twenty-ſix Years, had the moſt
and fineſt Accompliſhments of any Perſon I ever
knew of either Sex. It was obſerved by all
her Acquaintance, that ſhe never failed in com-
pany to ſay the beſt Thing that was ſaid, who-
ever was by; yet her Companions were uſually
Perſons of the beſt Underſtanding in the King-
dom. Some of us, who were her neareſt
Friends, lamented that we never wrote down
her Remarks, and what the French call Bons
inots. I will recollect as many as I can remember.
We were diverting ourſelves at a Play called
What is it like ? One Perſon is to think, and
the Reſt, without knowing the Thing, to ſay
what it is like. The Thing thought on was
the Spleen; ſhe had ſaid it was like an Oyſter,
and gave her Reaſon immediately, becauſe it is
removed by taking Steel inwardly.
Dr. Soden who ſquandered more than he
could afford, took out his Purſe as he fat by
the Fire, and found it was very hot; ſhe ſaid,
thie Reaſon was, that his Money burnt in his
Pocket.
She
Bons Mots de STELLA. 283
She called to her Servants to know what ill
Smell was in the Kitchen ? they anſwered,
they were making Matches: Well, ſaid ſhe,
I have heard Matches were made in Heaven,
but by the Brimftone, one would think they
were made in Hell.
After ſhe had been eating fome ſweet Thing,
a little of it happened to ſtick on her Lips; a
Gentleman told her of it, and offered to lick
it off ; ſhe ſaid, no Sir, I thank you, I have
a Tongue of my own.
In the late King's Time, a Gentleman aſked
Jervas the Painter, where he lived in London?
he anſwered, next Door to the King (for his
Houſe was near St. James's.) The other won-
dering how that could be the ſaid, you miſ-
take Mr. Jervas, for he only means next Door
to the Sign of a King.
A Gentleman who had been very ſilly and
pert in her Company, at laſt began to grieve at
remembering the Loſs of a Child lately dead.
A Biſhop ſitting by comforted him that he
ſhould be eaſy, becauſe the Child was gone to
Heaven. No, my Lord, ſaid ſhe, that is it
which moſt grieves him, becauſe he is ſure
never to ſee his Child there.
Having ſeen ſome Letters writ by a King in
a very large Hand, and ſome Perſons wonder-
ing at them, ſhe ſaid it confirmed the old Say-
ing, That Kings had long Hands.
Dr.
284
Bons Mots de STELLA.
Dr. Sheridan, famous for punning, and i11a
tending to ſell a Bargain, ſaid, he had made a
very good Pun. Some Body aſked, what it
was? He anſwered my A-
The other
taking Offence, the inſiſted the Doctor was in
the Right, for every Body knew that Punning
was his blind Side.
When ſhe was extremely ill, her Phyſicians
ſaid, Madam, you are near the Bottom of the
Hill, but we will endeavour to get you up a-
gain. She anſwered, Doctor, I fear, I ſhall
be out of Breath before I get up to the Top.
A dull Parſon talking of a very ſmart Thing,
faid to another Parſon as he came out of the
Pulpit, he was hammering a long Time, but
could not remember the Jeſt: She being impa-
tient, ſaid, I remember it very well, for I was
there, and the Words were theſe : Sir, you
have been blundering at a Story this half Hour,
and can neither make Head'nor Tail of it.
A very dirty Clergyman of her Acquaintance,
who affected Smartneſs and Repartee, was aſked
by ſome of the Company how his Nails came
to be ſo dirty ? He was at a Loſs; but the
ſolved the Difficulty, by ſaying, the Doctor's
Nails grew dirty by ſcratching himſelf.
A Quaker Apothecary ſent her a Vial corkt;
it had a broad Brim, and a Label of Paper a-
bout its Neck. What is that, ſaid ſhe, my
Apothecary's Son? The ridiculous Reſemblance,
and the Suddenneſs of the Queſtion, fet us all
2 Laughing.
THOUGHTS
Thoughts on various Subjects.
295
THOUGHTS 01 various SUBJECTS.
L
AWS penned with the utmoſt Care and
Exactneſs, and in the vulgar Language,
are often perverted to wrong Meanings; then
why ſhould we wonder that the Bible is ſo?
Although Men are accuſed for not knowing
their Weakneſs, yet perhaps as few know their
own Strength.
A Man ſeeing a Waſp creeping into a Viol
filled with Honey, that was hung on a Fruit
Tree, faid thus: Why, thou fottiſh Animal,
art thou mad to go into that Viol, where you
fee many
hundred of your Kind there dying in
it before you.
The Reproach is juſt, anſwered
the Waſp, but not from you Men, who are ſo
far from taking Example by other People's Fol.
lies, that you will not take Warning by your
If after falling ſeveral Times into this
Viol, and eſcaping by Chance, I ſhould fall in
again, I ſhould then but re/emble you.
An old Miſer kept a tame Jack-diw, that
uſed to freal Pieces of Money, and hide them
in a Hole, which the Cat oblerving, aſked,
why he would hoard up thoſe round thining
Things that he could make no Uſe of? Why,
faid the Jack-daw, my Maſter hath a whole
VOL. VIII.
z
Cheft
OWN.
286
Thoughts on various Subje&ts.
Cheſt-fuil, and maketh no more Uſe of them
than I do.
Men are content to be laughed at for their
Wit, but not for their Folly.
If the Men of Wit and Genius would re-
ſolve never to complain in their Works of Cri-
ticks and Detractors, the next Age would not
know that they ever had any.
After all the Maxims and Syſtems of Trade
and Commerce, a Stander-by would think the
Affairs of the World were moſt ridiculouſly
contrived.
There are few Countries, which, if well
cultivated, would not ſupport double the Num-
ber of their Inhabitants, and yet fewer where
one Third of the People are not extremely
ftinted even in the Neceſſaries of Life. I ſend
out twenty Barrels of Corn, which would
maintain a Family in Bread for a Year, and I
bring back in return a Veffel of Wine which
half a Dozen good Fellows would drink in leſs
than a Month at the Expence of their Health
and Reaſon.
A Motto for the Jeſuits :
Quæ regio in terris noftri non plena laboris ?
A Man would have but few Spectators, if
he offered to ſhew for Three-pence how he
could thruſt a red hot Iron into a Barrel of
Gunpowder, and it ſhould not take Fire.
Query; Whether Churches are not Dormito.
ries of the Living as well as the Dead?
Harry
Thoughts on various Subjects.
287
--
Harry Killegrew ſaid to Lord Wharton, “ You
« would not ſwear at this Rate, if you thought
you were doing God Honour.”
A Copy of Verſes kept in the Cabinet, and
only ſhewn to a few Friends, is like a Virgin,
much ſought after and admired; but when
printed and publiſhed, is like a common Whore,
whom any body may purchaſe for Half a Crown.
Lewis the XIVth of France ſpent his Life in
turning a Good Name into a Great.
The Epicureans began to ſpread at Rome in
the Empire of Auguſtus, as the Socinians, and
even the Epicureans too did in England, to-
wards the End of King Charles the Second's
Reign ; which is reckoned, although very ab-
ſurdly, our Auguftan Age. They both ſeem to
be Corruptions occaſioned by Luxury and Peace,
and by Politeneſs beginning to decline.
Sometimes I read a Book with Pleaſure, and
deteſt the Author,
At a Bookſeller's Shop, fome time ago, I
ſaw a Book with this Title; Poems by the * Au-
thor of the Choice. Not enduring to read a do-
zen Lines, I aſked the Company with me,
whether they had ever ſeen the Book, or heard
of the Poem from whence the Author denomi-
nated himſelf? They were all as ignorant as I.
But I find it common with theſe ſmall Dealers
in Wit and Learning, to give themſelves a Title
from their firſt Adventure, as Don Quixot uſu-
ally
2 2
* The Rev. Mr. Pomfret, a Diffenting Miniſter.
288
Thoughts on various Subjeets.
ally did from his laſt. This ariſeth from that
great Importance which every Man ſuppoſeth
himſelf to be of.
One Dennis, commonly called thé Critick,
who had writ a Three-penny Pamphlet againſt
the Power of France, being in the Country,
and hearing of a French Privateer hovering a-
bout the Coaſt, although he were twenty Miles
from the Sea, Aled to Town, and told his
Friends they need not wonder at his Haſte;
for the King of France having got Intelligence
where he was, had ſent a Privateer on purpoſe
to catch him.
Dr. Gee, Prebendary of Weſtminſter, who
had writ a ſmall Paper againſt Popery, being ob-
liged to travel for his Health, affected to dif-
guiſe his Perſon, and change his Name, as he
paſſed through Portugal, Spain, and Italy; tell-
ing all the Engliſh People he met, that he was
afraid of being murdered, or put into the In-
quiſition. He was acting the ſame Farce at
Paris, until Mr. Prior, (who was then Secre-
tary to the Ambafly) quite diſconcerted the
Doctor, by maliciouſly diſcovering the Secret,
and offering to engage Body for Body, that not
a Creature would huri him, or had ever heard
of him or his Pamphlet.
A Chamber-maid to a Lady of my Acquain-
tance, thirty Miles from London, had the
very
fame Turn of Thought, when talking with one
of her Fellow Servants, ſhe faid; “ I hear it
" is all over London already, that I am going
to
Thoughts on various Subjeéts. 289
" to leave my Lady:” And ſo had a Footman,
who, being newly married, deſired his Comrade
to tell him freely what the Town ſaid of it.
When ſomebody was telling a certain great
Miniſter, that the People were diſcontented;
« Poh, ſaid he, half a dozen Fools are prating in
a Coffee-houſe, and preſently think their own
“ Noiſe about their Ears is made by the World."
Whence comes the Cuſtom of bidding a
Woman look upon her Apron-ſtrings to find an
Excuſe ? Was it not from the Apron of Fig-
leaves worn by Eve, when ſhe covered herſelf,
and was the firſt of her Sex who made a bad
Excuſe for eating the forbidden Fruit ?
I never wonder to ſee Men wicked, but I
often wonder to ſee them not aſhamed.
Do not we ſee how eaſily we pardon our
own Actions and Paſſions, and the very Infir-
mities of our Bodies; why ſhould it be won-
derful to find us pardon our own Dullneſs?
Dignity and Station, or great Riches, are in
ſome Sort neceſſary to old Men, in order to
keep the younger at a Diſtance, who are other-
wiſe too apt to inſult them upon the Score of
their Age.
There is no Vice. or Folly that requireth ſo
much Nicety and Skill to manage, as Vanity;
nor any which by ill Management maketh ſo
contemptible a Figure.
Obſervation is an old Man's Memory.
Politicks are nothing but Corruptions, and
are conſequently of no Uſe to a good King, or
290
Thoughts on various Subje&ts.
on
a good Miniſtry; for which Reaſon all Courts
are ſo full of Politicks.
Eloquence ſmooth and cutting is like a Ra-
zor whetted with Oil.
Imaginary Evils ſoon become real ones, by
indulging our Reflections on them; as he, who
in a melancholy Fancy ſeeth ſomething like a
Face the Wall or the Wainſcot, can by two
or three Touches with a Lead Pencil, make it
look viſible and agreeing with what he farcyed.
Men of great Parts are often unfortunate in
the Management of publick Buſineſs, becauſe
they are apt to go out of the common Road,
by the Quickneſs of their Imagination. This I
once ſaid to my Lord Bolingbroke, and deſired
he would obſerve, that the Clerks in his Office
uſed a ſort of Ivory Knife with a blunt Edge,
to divide a Sheet of Paper, which never failed
to cut it even, only requiring a ſtrong Hand ;
whereas if they ſhould make Uſe of a ſharp Pen-
knife, the Sharpneſs would make it go often
out of the Creaſe, and disfigure the Paper.
He who doth not provide for his own Houſe,
St. Paul ſays, is worſe than an Infidel
. And I
think, he who provideth only for his own
Houſe, is juſt equal with an Infidel.
Jealouſy like Fire may thrivel up Horns, but
it makes them ſtink.
A Footman's Hat ſhould fly off to every
Body; and therefore Mercury, who was Ju-
piter's Footman, had Wings faſtened to his
Сар.
When
Thoughts on various Subjects. 291
When a Man pretends Love, but courts for
Money, he is like a Juggler, who conjureth
away your Shilling, and conveyeth ſomething
very undecent under the Hat.
All Panegyricks are mingled with an Infuſion
of Poppy
One Top of Parnaſus was ſacred to Bacchus,
the other to Apollo.
Matrimony hath many Children; Repentance,
Diſcord, Poverty, Jealouſy, Sickneſs, Spleen,
Loathing, &c.
Viſion is the Art of ſeeing Things inviſible,
The two Maxims of any great Man at Court
are, always to keep his Countenance, and never
to keep his Word.
I aſked a poor Man, how he did ? He ſaid,
he was like a Waſhball, always in decay.
Hippocrates, Aph. 32. Seet. 6. obferveth,
that ſtuttering People are always ſubject to a
Looſeneſs. I wiſh Phyſicians had Power to re-
move the Profuſion of Words in many People
to the inferior Parts.
A Man dreamt he was a Cuckold; a Friend
told him it was a bad Sign, becauſe when a
Dream is true, Virgil faith, it paſſeth through
the horned Gate.
Love is a Flame, and therefore we ſay,
Beauty is attractive; becauſe Phyſicians obſerve,
that Fire is a great Drawer.
Civis, the moſt honourable Name among
the Romans; a Citizen, a Word of Contempt
among us.
A
292 Thoughts on various Subjeéts.
A Lady who had Gallantries and ſeveral
Children, told her Huſband he was like the
auſtere Man, who reaped where he did not
fow.
We read that an Afi's Head was ſold for
eighty Pieces of Silver; they have been lately
fold ten thouſand Times dearer, and yet they
were never more plentiful,
I muſt complain the Cards are ill fhuffled,
until I have a good Hand.
Very few Men do properly live at preſent,
but are providing to live another Time.
When I am reading a Book, whether wiſe
or filly, it ſeemeth to me to be alive and talk,
ing to me.
Whoever live at a different End of the
Town from me, I look upon as Perſons out of
the World, and only myſelf and the Scene a-
bout me to be in it.
When I was young, I thought all the World,
as well as myſelf
, was wholly taken up in dif-
courfing upon the laſt new Play.
My Lord Cromarty, after fourſcore, went to
his Country Houſe in Scotland, with a Reſolu-
tion to ſtay fix Years there and live thriftily,
in order to ſave up Money, that he might ſpend
in London.
It is ſaid of the Horſes in the Viſion, that
their Power was in their Mouths and in their
Tails. What is ſaid of Horſes in Viſion,
may be ſaid of Women in reality,
Elephants
Thoughts on various Subjects.
293
Elephants are always drawn ſmaller than the
Life, but a Flea always larger.
When old Folks tell us of many paſſages in
their Youth, between them and their Company,
we are apt to think how much happier thoſe
Times were than the prefent.
Why does the elder Siſter dance bare-foot
when the Younger is married before her? is it
not that ſhe may appear ſhorter, and conſe-
quently be thought younger than the Bride ?
No Man will take Counſel, but every
Man
will take Money; therefore Money is better
than Counſel.
I never yet knew a Wag (as the Term is)
who was not a Dunce,
A Perſon reading to me a dull Poem of his
own making, I prevailed on him to ſcratch
out fix Lines together; in turning over the
Leaf, the Ink being wet, marked as many
Lines on the other Side; whereof the Poet
complaining, I hid him be eaſy, for it would
be better if thoſe were out too.
At Windfor I was obſerving to my Lord
Bolingbroke, that the Tower where the Maids
of Honour lodged (who at that Time were not
very handſome) was much frequented with
Crows. My Lord ſaid, it was becauſe they
fmelo Carrion.
THE
294
The Story of an
THE
S TO RY
OF THE
INJURED LADY.
Written by Herself.
In a LETTER to her Friend, with
his ANSWER.
B
SIR,
EING ruined by the Inconſtancy and
Unkindneſs of a Lover, I hope, a true
and plain Relation of my Misfortunes may be
of Uſe and Warning to credulous Maids, never
to put too much Truſt in deceitful Men.
A Gentleman in the Neighbourhood had
two Miſtreſſes, another and inyſelf; and he
pretended honourable Love to us both. Our
three Houſes ſtood pretty near one anciher;
his was parted from mine by a River, jod from
my Rival's by an old broken Wall. But be-
fore
Injured Lady.
295
fore I enter into the Particulars of this Gentle-
man's hard Uſage of me, I will give a very
juſt impartial Character of my Rival and My-
ſelf.
As to her Perſon ſhe is tall and lean, and very
ill ſhaped ; ſhe hath bad Features, and a worſe
Complexion ; ſhe hath a ſtinking Breath, and
twenty ill Smells about her beſides; which are
yet more unſufferable by her natural Sluttiſh-
neſs; for ſhe is always Louſy, and never with-
out the Itch. As to her other Qualities, ſhe
hath no Reputation either for Virtue, Honeſty,
Truth, or Manners; and it is no Wonder, con-
ſidering what her Education hath been. Scold-
ing and Curfing are her common Converſation.
To ſum up all; ſhe is poor and beggarly, and gets
a ſorry Maintenance by pilferring wherever The
comes. As for this Gentleman whois now ſo fond
of her, ſhe ſtill beareth him an invincible Hatred;
revileth him to his Face, and raileth at him in all
Companies. Her Houſe is frequented by a
Company of Rogues and Thieves, and Pick-
pockets, whom ſhe encourageth to rob his
Hen-rooſts, ſteal his Corn and Cattle, and do
him all manner of Miſchief. She hath been
known to come at the Head of theſe Raſcals,
and beat her Lover until he was fore from
Head to Foot, and then force him to pay for
the Trouble ſhe was at. Once, attended with
a Crew of Raggamuffins, the broke into his
Houſe, turned all Things topſy-turvy, and
then ſet it on Fire. At the lame Time The
told
296
The Story of an
ز
told ſo many Lies among his Servants, that it
fet them all by the Ears, and his poor Steward
was knocked on the Head; for which I think,
and ſo doth all the Country, that ſhe ought to
be anſwerable. To conclude her Character
ſhe is of a different Religion, being a Preſbyte-
rian of the moſt rank and virulent Kind, and
conſequently having an inveterate Hatred to
the Church; yet, I am ſure, I have been al-
ways told, that in Marriage there ought to be
an Union of Minds as well as of Perſons.
I will now give my own Character, and ſhall
do it in few Words, and with Modeſty and
Truth.
I was reckoned to be as handſome as any in
our Neighbourhood, until I became pale and
thin with Grief and ill Uſage. I am ſtill fair
enough, and have, I think, no very ill Fea-
ture about me. They that ſee me now will
hardly allow me ever to have had any great
Share of Beauty; for beſides being ſo much al-
tered, I go always mobbed and in an Undreſs,
as well out of Neglect, as indeed for want of
Cloaths to appear in. I might add to all this,
that I was born to a good Eſtate, although it
now turneth to little Account under the Op-
preſſions I endure, and hath been the true
Cauſe of all my Misfortunes.
Some Years ago, this Gentleman taking a
Fancy either to my Perſon or Fortune, made
his Addreſſes to me; which, being then young
and fooliſh, I too readily admitted; he ſeemed
te
Injured Lady.
297
to uſe me with ſo much Tenderneſs, and his
Converſation was ſo very engaging, that all my
Conſtancy and Virtue were too ſoon overcome;
and, to dwell no longer upon a Theme that
cauſeth fuch bitter Reflections, I muſt confeſs
with Shame, that I was undone by the com-
mon Arts practiſed upon all eaſy credulous Vir-
gins, half by Force, and half by Conſent, af-
ter ſolemn Vows and Proteſtations of Marriage.
When he had once got Poſſeſſion, he ſoon be-
gan to play the uſual Part of a too fortunate
Lover, affecting on all Occaſions to thew his
Authority, and to act like a Conqueror. Firſt,
he found Fault with the Government cf my
Family, which to grant, was none of the beſt,
conſiſting of ignorant illiterate Creatures; for
at that Time, I knew but little of the World.
In compliance to him, therefore, I agreed to
fall into his Ways and Methods of Living; I
conſented that his Steward ſhould govern iny
Houſe, and have Liberty to employ an Under-
Steward, who ſhould receive his Directions.
My Lover proceeded further, turning away fe-
veral old Servants and Tenants, and ſupplying
me with others from his own Houſe. Theſe
grew ſo domineering and unreaſonable, that
there was no Quiet, and I heard of nothing
but perpetual Quarrels, which although I could
not poſſibly help, yet my Lover laid all the
Blame and Puniſhment upon me; and upon
every Falling out, ſtill turned away more of
my People, and ſupplied me in their Stead with
a
298
The Story of an
a Number of Fellows and Dependents of his
own, whom he had no other Way to provide
for. Overcome by Love, and to avoid Noiſe
and Contention, I yielded to all his Uſurpations,
and finding it in vain to reſiſt, I thought it my
beſt Policy to make my Court to my new Ser-
vants, and draw them to my Intereſts; I fed
them from my own Table with the beſt I had,
put my new Tenants on the choice Parts of
iny
Land, and treated them all ſo kindly, that they
began to love me as well as their Maſter. In
proceſs of Time, all my old Servants were gone,
and I had not a Creature about me, nor above
one or two Tenants but what were of his
chuſing; yet I had the good Luck by gentle
Uſage to bring over the greateſt Part of them
to my Side. When my Lover obſerved this,
he began to alter his Language; and, to thoſe
who enquired about me, he would anſwer,
that I was an old Dependent upon his Family,
whom he had placed on ſome Concerns of his
own; and he began to uſe me accordingly, neg-
lecting by Degrees all common Civility in his
Behaviour. I ſhall never forget the Speech he
made me one Morning, which he delivered
with all the Gravity in the World. He put
me in Mind of the vaſt Obligations I lay under
to him, in ſending me ſo many of his People
for my own Good, and to teach me Manners:
That it had coſt him ten Times more than I
was worth, to maintain ine: That it had been
much better for him if I had been damned, or
burnt,
Injured Lady.
299
burnt, or ſunk to the Bottom of the Sea: That
it was but reaſonable I ſhould ſtrain myſelf as
far as I was able, to reimburſe him ſome of
his Charges: That from henceforward he ex-
pected his Word ſhould be a Law to me in all
Things: That I muſt maintain a Pariſh-watch
againſt Thieves and Robbers, and give Salaries
to an Overſeer, a Conſtable, and Others, all of
his own chuling, whom he would ſend from
Time to Time to be Spies upon me: That to en-
able me the better in ſupporting theſe Expences,
my Tenants ſhall be obliged to carry all
their Goods croſs the River to his Town-mar-
ket, and pay Toll on both sides, and then fell
them at half Value. But becauſe we were a
naſty Sort of People, and that he could not
endure to touch any Thing we had a Hand in,
and likewiſe, becauſe he wanted Work to
employ his own Folks, therefore we muſt
fend all our Goods to his Market juſt in
their Naturals; the Milk immediately from
the Cow without making it into Cheeſe
or Butter; the Corn in the Ear, the Graſs
as it is mowed; the Wool as it cometh
from the Sheeps Back, and bring the Fruit up-
on the Branch, that he might not be obliged to
eat it after our filthy Hands: That, if a Te-
nant carried but a piece of Bread and Cheeſe to
eat by the Way, or an Inch of Worſted to
mend his Stockings, he ſhould forfeit his whole
Parcel : And becauſe a Company of Rogues
uſually plyed on the River between us, who
often
300
The Story of an
often robbed my Tenants of their Goods and
Boats, he ordered a Waterman of his to guard
them, whoſe Manner was to be out of the Way
until the poor Wretches were plundered ; then
to overtake the Thieves, and ſeize all as lawful
Prize to his Maſter and himſelf. It would be
endleſs to repeat a hundred other Hardſhips he
hath put upon me; but it is a general Rule,
that whenever he imagines the ſmalleſt Advan-
tage will redound to one of his Foot-boys by
any new Oppreſſion of me and my whole Fa-
mily and Eſtate, he never diſputeth it a Moment,
All this hath rendered me fo very inſignificant
and contemptible at Home, that ſome Servants
to whom I pay the greateſt Wages, and many
Tenants who have the moſt beneficial Leaſes,
are gone over to live with him; yet I ain bound
to continue their Wages, and pay their Rents;
by which Means one third Part of my whole
Income is ſpent on his Eſtate, and above ano-
ther Third by his Tolls and Markets; and my
poor Tenants are ſo funk and impoveriſhed,
that, inſtead of maintaining me ſuitable to my
Quality, they can hardly find me Cloaths to
keep me warm, or provide the common Necef-
faries of Life for themſelves.
Matters being in this Poſture between me
and my Lover ; I received Intelligence that he
had been for ſome Time making very preſſing
Overtures of Marriage to my Rival, until there
happened ſome Miſunderſtandings between
thein; the gave him ill Words, and threatened
Injured Lady.
301
to break off all Commerce with him. He, on
the other Side, having either acquired Courage
by his Triumphs over me, or fuppoſing her as
tame a Fool as I, thought at first to carry it
with a high Hand; but hearing at the fame
Time, that ſhe had Thoughts of making ſome
private Propoſals to join with me againſt him,
and doubưing with very good Reaſon that I
would readily accept them, he ſeemed very
much diſconcerted. This I thought was a
proper Occaſion to thew ſome great Example of
Generolity and Love; and ſo, without further
Conſideration, I ſent him Word, that hearing
there was like to be a Quarrel between him and
my Rival; notwithſtanding all that had paſſed,
and without binding him to any Conditions in
my own Favour, I would ſtand by him againſt
her and all the World, while I had a Penny in
my Purſe, or a Petticoat to pawn. This Mef-
ſage was ſubſcribed by all my chief Tenants;
and proved ſo powerful, that my Rival imme-
diately grew more tractable upon it. The Re-
ſult of which was, that there is now a Treaty
of Marriage concluded between them, the
Wedding Cloaths are bought, and nothing re-
maineth but to perform the Ceremony, which
is put off for ſome Days, becauſe they deſiga
it to be a publick Wedding. And to reward my
Love, Conſtancy, and Generoſity, he hath be-
ſtowed on me the Office of being Sempſtreſs to
his Grooms and Footmen, which I am forced
to accept or ſtarve. Yet, in the Midſt of
VOL, VIII,
this
Аа
302
The Story of an
this my Situation, I cannot but have ſome Pity
for this deluded Man, to caſt himſelf away on
an infamous Creature, who, whatever ſhe
pre-
tendeth, I can prove, would at this very Minute
rather be a Whore to a certain Great Man,
that ſhall be nameleſs, if ſhe might have her
Will. For my Part, I think, and ſo doth all
the Country too, that the Man is poffefſed; at
leaſt none of us are able to imagine what he
can poflibly ſee in her, unleſs the hath bewitch-
ed him, or given him ſome Powder.
I am ſure, I never fought his Alliance, and
you can bear me Witneſs, that I might have
had other Matches; nay, if I were lightly dif-
pofed, I could ſtill perhaps have Offers, that
fome, who hold their Heads higher, would be
glad to aceept. But alas, I never had any ſuch
wicked Thought; all I now deſire is, only to
enjoy a little Quiet, to be free from the Per-
ſecutions of this unreaſonable Man, and that
he will let me manage my own little Fortune
to the beſt Advantage; for which I will under-
take to pay him a conſiderable Penſion every
Year, much more conſiderable than what he
now gets by his Oppreſſions; for he muſt needs
find himſelf a Looſer at laſt, when he hath
drained me and my Tenants fo dry, that we
ſhall not have a Penny for him or ourſelves.
There is one Impoſition of his, I had almoſt
forgot, which I think unſufferable, and will
appeal to you or any reaſonable Perſon, whe-
ther it be fo or not. I told you before, that
by
ز
Injured Lady.
303
by an old Compact we agreed to have the ſame
Steward, at which Time I conſented likewiſe
to regulate my Family and Eſtate by the ſame
Method with him, which he then ſhewed me
writ down in Form, and I approved of. Now,
the Turn he thinks fit to give this Compact of
ours is very extraordinary; for he pretends that
whatever Orders he ſhall think fit to preſcribe
for the future in his Family, he may, if he
will, compel mine. to obſerve them, without
aſking my Advice or hearing my Reaſons. So
that, I muſt not make a Leaſe without his
Conſent, or give any Directions for the well-
governing of my Family, but what he coun-
termands whenever he pleaſeth. This leaveth
me at ſuch Confuſion and Uncertainty, that
my Servants know not when to obey me, and
my Tenants, although many of them be very
well inclined, ſeem quite at a Loſs.
But, I am too tedious upon this melancholy
Subject, which however, I hope, you will for-
give, ſince the Happineſs of my whole Life de-
pendeth upon it. I deſire you will think a while,
and give your beſt Advice what Meaſures I ſhall
take with Prudence, Juſtice, Courage, and
Honour, to protect my Liberty and Fortune a-
gainſt the Hardſhips and Severities I lie under
from that unkind, inconſtant Man.
Аа 2
The
304
The Anſwer to the
The ANSWER
TO THE
Injured Lady.
1
MADAM,
Have received your Ladyſhip’s Letter, and
carefully conſidered every Part of it, and
Thall give you my Opinion how you ought to
proceed for
your own Security. But firſt, I muſt
beg leave to tell your Ladyſhip, that you were
guilty of an unpardonable Weakneſs t'other
Day in making that Offer to your Lover, of
ſtanding by him in any Quarrel he might have
with your Rival; you know very well, that
ſhe began to apprehend he had Deſigns of uſe-
ing her as he had done you ; and common Pru-
dence might have directed you rather to have
entered into ſome Meaſures with her for joining
againſt him, until he might at leaſt be brought
to ſome reaſonable Terms: But your invincible
Hatred to that Lady hath carried your Reſent-
ments ſo high, as to be the Cauſe of your
Ruin; yet, if you pleaſe to conſider, this A-
verſion of yours began a good while before ſhe
became
Injured Lady.
305
became your Rival, and was taken up by you
and your Family in a fort of Compliment to
your
Lover, who formerly had a great Abhor-
rence for her. It is true, ſince that Time
you
have ſuffered very much by her Encroachments
upon your Eſtate, but ſhe never pretended to
govern or direct you; and now you have drawn
a new Enemy upon yourſelf; for I think you
may count upon all the ill Offices ſhe can poſſi-
bly do you by her Credit with her Huſband;
whereas, if inſtead of openly declaring againſt
her without any Provocation, you had but fat
ſtill a while, and ſaid nothing, that Gentleman
would have leſſened his Severity to you out of
perfect Fear.
This Weakneſs of yours, you
call Generoſity; but I doubt there was more
in the Matter : In ſhort, Madam, I have good
Reaſons to think you were betrayed to it by the
pernicious Counſels of ſome about you: For,
to my certain Knowledge, ſeveral of your Tė-
nants and Servants, to whom you have been
very kind, are as arrant Raſcals as any in the
Country. I cannot but obſerve what a mighty
Difference there is in one Particular between
your Ladyſhip and your Rival. Having yielded
up your Perſon, you thought nothing elſe worth
defending, and therefore you will not now in-
Gift
upon
thoſe very Conditions for which you
yieldeſt at firſt. But your Ladyſhip cannot be
ignorant, that ſome Years ſince your Rival did
the ſame Thing, and upon no Conditions at all;
nay, this Gentleman kept her as a Miſs, and
yet
306
The Anſwer to the
yet made her pay for her very Diet and Lodg-
ing. But, it being at a Time when he had no
Steward, and his Family out of Order, the
ſtole away, and hath now got the Trick very
well known among Women of the Town, to
grant a Man the Favour over Night, and the
next Day have the Impudence to deny it to his
Face. But, it is too late to reproach you with
any former Overſights, which cannot now be
rectified. I know the Matters of Fact as you
relate them are true and fairly repreſented. My
Advice therefore is this. Get your Tenants to-
gether as ſoon as you conveniently can, and
make them agree to the following Reſolutions.
Firſt. That your Family and Tenants have
no Dependence upon the ſaid Gentleman, fur-
ther than by the old Agreement, which ob-
ligeth you to have the ſame Steward, and to re-
gulate your Houſhold by ſuch Methods as you
Thall both agree to.
Secondly, That
you
will
not carry your Goods
to the Market of his Town, unleſs you pleaſe,
nor be hindered from carrying them any
elſe.
Thirdly. That the Servants you pay Wages
to ſhall live at Home, or forfeit their Places.
Fourthly. That whatever Leaſe you make
to a Tenant, it ſhall not be in his power to
break it.
If he will agree to theſe Articles, I adviſe
you to contribute as largely as you can to all
Charges of Pariſh and County,
any where
I can
Injured Lady.
307
I can aſſure you, ſeveral of that Gentleman's
ableſt Tenants and Servants are againſt his ſe-
vere Uſage of you, and would be glad of an
Occaſion to convince the reſt of their Error, if
you will not be wanting to yourſelf.
If the Gentleman refuſes theſe juſt and rea-
ſonable Offers, pray let me know it, and per-
haps I may think of ſomething elſe that will
be more effectual,
I am,
MADAM,
Your Ladyſhip’s, &c.
Upore
303
Some CONSIDERATIONS on the
Upon the Death of Mr. Storte, Recorder of
the City of Dublin, in the Year 1733, Seve-
veral Gentlemen declared themſelves Candidates
to ſucceed him; upon which the DEAN wrote
the following Paper, and EATON STANNARD,
Eſq; (a Gentleman of great Worth and Ho-
nour, and very knowing in his Profeſſion) was
elected.
Some CONSIDERATIONS humbly offered to the
Right Hon. the LORD-MAYOR, the Court of
ALDERMEN and COMMON - Council of
the Hon. City of DUBLIN, in the Choice
of a RECORDER.
T"
HE Office of Recorder to this City being
vacant by the Death of a very worthy
Gentleman: It is ſaid, that five or ſix Perſons
are ſolliciting to ſucceed him in the Employ-
ment. I am a Stranger to all their Perſons,
and to moſt of their Characters. Which lat .
ter, I hope, will at this Time be canvaſſed with
more Decency, than it ſometimes happeneth
upon the like Occaſions. Therefore, as I am
wholly impartial, I can with more Freedom
deliver my Thoughts, how the ſeveral Perſons
and Parties concerned ought to proceed in elect-
ing a Recorder for this great and ancient City.
And
Choice of a Recorder.
309
And firſt, as it is a very natural, ſo I can by
no Means think it an unreaſonable, Opinion,
that the Sons or near Relations of Aldermen,
and other deſerving Citizens, ſhould be duly
regarded, as proper Competitors for an Employ-
ment in the City's Diſpoſal : Provided they be
equally qualified with other Candidates; and,
provided that ſuch Employments require no
more than common Abilities and common
Honeſty. But, in the Choice of a Recorder,
the Caſe is intirely different. He ought to be
a Perſon of good Abilities in his Calling; of
an unſpotted Character; an able Practitioner;
one who hath occaſionally merited of this City
before: He ought to be of ſome Maturity in
Years; a Member of Parliament, and likely to
continue ſo; regular in his Life; firm in his
Loyalty to the Hanover Succeſſion ; indulgent
to tender Conſciencies; but, at the ſame Time,
a firm Adherer to the Eſtabliſhed Church. If
He be ſuch a one, who hath already fat in Par-
liament, it ought to be inquired of what
Weight He was there ; Whether He voted on
all Occaſions for the Good of his Country; and
particularly for advancing the Trade and Free-
dom of this City: Whether He be engaged in
any Faction, either National or Religious :
And laſtly, whether He be a Man of Courage ;
not to be drawn froin his Duty by the Frown
or Menaces of Power, nor capable to be cor-
rupted by Allurements or Bribes. Theſe
and many other Particulars are of infinitely
more
4
310
Some CONSIDERATIONS, &C.
more Conſequence than that ſingle Circumſtance
of being deſcended by a direct or collateral Line
from any Alderman, or diſtinguiſhed Citizen,
dead or alive.
There is not a Dealer or Shop-keeper in this
City of any Subſtance, whoſe thriving, leſs or
more, may not depend upon the good or ill
Conduct of a Recorder. He is to watch every
Motion in Parliament that may in the leaſt af-
fect the Freedom, Trade, or Welfare of it.
In this approaching Election, the Commons,
as they are a numerous Body, ſo they ſeem to
be moſt concerned in Point of Intereſt; and
their Intereſt ought to be moſt regarded, be-
cauſe it altogether dependeth upon the true
Intereſt of the City. They have no private
Views; and giving their Votes, as I am in-
formed, by Ballotting, they lie under no Awe,
or Fear of diſobliging Competitors. It is there-
fore hoped, that they will duly conſider which
of the Candidates is moſt likely to advance the
Trade of themſelves and their Brother Citi-
zens; to defend their Liberties, both in and out
of Parliament, againſt all Attempts of Enr
croachment or Oppreſſion. And ſo God di-
rect them in the Choice of a Recorder, who
may
ay for many Years ſupply thatimportant Office
with Skill, Diligence, Courage, and Fidelity.
And let all the People ſay, Amen.
Ar
POEMS on ſever al OCCASIONS.
81]
An EPITAPH by Dr. Swift to the Memory
of FREDERICK Duke of SCHOMBERG,
who was unhappily killed in croſſing the River
Boyne on the ift of July 1690, and was
buried in St. Patrick's Cathedral, where the
Dean and Chapter erected a ſmall Monument to
his Honour, at their own Expence.
Hic infra ſitum eft Corpus FREDERICI Ducis
DE SCHOMBERG
ad BU BINDAM occiſi A. D. 1690.
DECANUS et CAPITULUM maximopere etiam
atque etiam petierunt,
Ut HÆREDES Ducis Monumentum,
In memoriam PARENTIS, erigendum curarent;
Sed poſtquam per Epiſtolas, per Amicos
diu ac fæpè orando nil profecere;
Hunc demum Lapidem ipſi ſtatuerunt,
* Saltem ut fcias, Hoſpes,
Ubinam terrarum SCHONBERGENsis Cineres
delitefcunt.
Plus potuit fama Virtutis apud Alienos,
Quam Sanguinis proximitas apud ſuos.
A. D. 1731.
* The Words that Dr. Swift firſt concluded the Epitaph with,
were ſtill ſtronger, namely ; Saltem ut fciat Viator indignabundus,
quali in cellulä tunti Ductaris cineres delitefcunt. For the Author was
always heard to ſpeak with great Reverence of the Memory of
that brave Duke, as well as his Glorious Maſter King WILLIAM;
and indeed of all others, who have ſtruggled for the Liberties of
Theſe Kingdoms againſt the repeated Attempts of Arbitrary Power.
312 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
A BALLAD on the Game of Traffick:
Written at the Caſtle of Dublin, in the Time of
the Earl of Berkeley's Government.
MY
* Lord to find out who muſt deal
Delivers Cards about,
But the firſt Knave does feldom fail
To find the Doctor out.
But then his Honour cry'd, Godzooks!
And ſeem'd to knit his Brow;
For on a Knave he never looks
But H' thinks upon Jack How.
My Lady tho' ſhe is no Player
Some bungling Partner takes,
And wedg’d in Corner of a Chair
Takes Snuff, and holds the Stakes,
Dame Floyd looks out in grave Suſpence
For Pair-royals and Sequents ;
But wiſely cautious of her Pence,
The Caſtle ſeldom frequents.
Quoth
* The Earl of Berkeley,
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 313
Quoth Herries, fairly putting Caſes,
I'd won it on my Word,
If I had put a Pair of Aces,
And could pick up a Third.
?
But Weſton has a new-caſt Gown
On Sundays to be fine in,
And if ſhe can but win a Crown,
'Twill juſt new dye the Lining.
« With theſe is Parſon Swift,
“ Not knowing how to ſpend his Time,
" Does make a wretched Shift,
« To deafen 'em with Puns and Rhime.
Lady Betty Berkeley finding this Ballad in
the Author's Room unfiniſhed, ſhe underwrit the
laſt Stanza, and left the Paper where ſhe had
found it; which occafioned the following Song,
that the Author wrote in a counterfeit Hand, as
if a third Perſon had done it.
A SONG, to the Tune of the Cut-purſe.
See Swift's Poems.
VERSES
314 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
VERSES ſaid to be written on
the UNION
HE * Queen has lately loſt a Part
Of her entirely-Engliſh Heart,
For want of which by way of Botch,
She piec'd it up again with Scotch.
Bleſt Revolution, which creates
Divided Hearts, united States,
See how the double Nation lies
Like a rich Coat with Skirts of Frize:
As if a Man in making Poſies
Should bundle Thiſtles up with Roſes.
Whoever yet a Union faw
Of Kingdoms, without Faith or Law.
Henceforward let no Stateſman dare,
A Kingdom to a Ship compare ;
Left he ſhould call our Commonweal,
A Veffel with a double Keel:
Which juſt like ours, new rigg'd and man'd,
And
got about a League from Land,
By Change of Wind to Leeward Side
The Pilot knew not how to guide.
So toffing Faction will o'erwhelm
Our crazy double-bottom'd Realm,
WILL.
Anne.
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 315
WILL. WOOD's PETITION to the People of
IRELAND, being an excellent New Song.
Suppoſed to be made and ſung in the Streets of
Dublin, by William Wood, Iron-monger
and Half-penny-monger, 1725.
Y dear Iriſh Fokes.
Come leave off your Jokes,
And buy up my Halfpence ſo fine;
So fair and ſo bright,
They'll give you Delight;
Obſerve how they gliſter and ſhine.
MY
They'll ſell to my
Grief
As cheap as Neck-beef,
For Counters at Cards to your Wife:
And every Day
Your Children may play
Span-farthing or Toſs on the Knife.
Come hither and try;
I'll teach you to buy
A Pot of good Ale for a Farthing:
Come; Three-pence a Score,
I aſk you no more,
And a Fig for the Drapier and * Harding.
:
.
* The Drapier's Printer.
316 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
gets very hard
When Tradeſmen have Gold,
The Thief will be bold,
By Day and by Night for to rob him:
My Copper is ſuch,
No Robber will touch,
And, ſo you may daintily bob him.
The little Black-guard
Who
His Half-pence for cleaning your Shoes :
When his pockets are cram'd
With mine, and he dad,
He may ſwear he has nothing to loſe.
Here's Half-pence in Plenty,
For one you'll have twenty,
Tho' Thouſands are not worth a Pudden.
Your Neighbours will think,
When your Pocket cries Chink,
You are grown plaguy rich on a ſudden.
You will be my Thankers,
I'll make you my Bankers,
As good as * Ben Burton or Fade :
For nothing ſhall paſs
But my pretty Braſs,
And then you'll be all of a Trade.
I'm
* Two famous Bankers,
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 317
I'm a Son of a Whore,
If I have a Word more
To ſay in this wretched Condition.
If
my
Coin will not paſs,
I muſt die like an Aſs;
And ſo I conclude my Petition.
An
E PIGRAM
Ο Ν
WOODS
WOODS's BRASS-MONEY.
(
YART'RET was welcom'd to the Shore
Firſt with the brazen Cannons Roar,
To meet him next, the Soldier comes,
With hrazen Trumps and brazen Drums.
Approaching near the Town, he hears
The brazen Bells falute his Ears:
But when Wood's Braſs began to ſound,
Guns, Trumpets, Drums, and Bells were
drown'd.
Vol. VIII,
Bb
AN
1
318 ?
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
1
An EP I G R A M
ON THE
D----E of C---------S.
7
s B-- was the Dean's familiar
Friend;
4-sgrows a D-e; their Friendſhip here muſt
end.
Surely the Dean deſerves a fore Rebuke,
From knowing James, to ſay, Heknows a D-e. .
An EPIGRAM on SCOLDING.
REAT Folks are of a finer Mold;
Lord! how politely they can ſcold;
ile a coarſe Engliſh Tongue will itch,
Do Whore and Rogue; and Dog and Bitch.
CATULLUS
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
319
CATULLUS de LESBIA.
LESBIA mi dicit ſemper male ; nec tacet
unquam
De me ; Leſbia me, deſpeream, niſi amat.
Quo figno? Quia funt totidem mea: Deprecor illam
Affiduè ; verum, diſpeream, niſi amo.
In ENGLISH
L
ESBIA for ever on me rails,
To talk of me ſhe never fails.
Now, hang me, but for all her Art,
I find, that I have gain'd her Heart.
My Proof is thus: I plainly ſee,
The Caſe is juſt the ſame with me;
I curſe her every Hour ſincerely,
Yet, hang me, but I love her dearly.
Bb 2
Mr.
320 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Mr. Jaſon Haffard, a Woollen-Drapier
in Dublin, put up the Sign of the
Golden Fleece, and defred a Motto
in Verſe.
ASON, the valiant Prince of Greece,
From Colchos brought the Golden Fleece :
We comb the Wool, refine the Stuff,
For modern Jafons that's enuff.
Oh! could we tame yon watchful Dragon,
Old Jaſon would have leſs to brag on.
The Author's manner of Living.
Ouponya Cebeck, and Point of Wine.
N rainy Days alone I dine,
Upon a Chick, and Pint of Wine.
On rainy Days, I dine alone,
And pick my Chicken to the Bone :
But this my Servants much enrages,
No Scraps remain to ſave Board-wages.
In Weather fine I nothing ſpend,
But ofien {punge upon a Friend :
Yet where He's not ſo rich as I;
I
pay my Club, and ſo God b’y'-
VERSES
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
321
VERSES cut by two of the Dean's
Friends, upon a Pane of Glaſs in one
of bis Parlours.
A
BARDon whom Phæbus hisSpirit beſtow'd
Reſolving t'acknowledge the Bounty he
ow'd,
Found out a new Method at once of confeſſing,
And making the moſt of ſo mighty a Bleſſing;
To the God he'd be grateful, but Mortals he'd
chouſe,
By making his Patron preſide in his Houſe,
And wiſely foreſaw this Advantage from thence,
That the God wou'd in Honour bear moſt of
th’ Expence:
So, the Bard he finds Drink, and leaves Phæbus
to treat
With the Thoughts he inſpires, regardleſs of
Meat.
Hence they that come hither expecting to dine,
Are always fobb’d off with ſheer Wit and theer
Wine,
322 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS,
On another Window.
Are the Gueſts of this Houſe ſtill doom'd to be
cheated
Sure the Fates have decreed they by Halves
ſhou'd be treated.
In the Day of good * John, if you came here
to dine,
You had Choice of good Meat, no Choice of
good Wine.
In Jonathan's Reign if you come here to eat,
You have Choice of good Wine, no Choice of
good Meat.
Oh yove! then how fully might all Sides be
bleſt,
Wouldſt thou but agree to this humble Requeſt:
Put both Deans in one; or if that's too much
Trouble,
Inſtead of the Deans, make the Deanery double.
* Dr. John Stearne, late Lord Biſhop of Clogher, who had
been the Predeceſſor of Dr. Swift, in the Deanery of St. Patrick's,
and was always diſtinguiſhed for his great Hoſpitality.
TO
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 323
TO A
LADY, who deſired the AUTHOR to
write ſome Verſes upon her in the
Heroic Style.
Written at London in the Year 1726.
A
FTER venting all my Spight,
Tell me, what have I to write ?
Ev'ry Error I would find
Thro' the Mazes of your Mind,
Have my buſy Muſe employ'd
Till the Company is cloy’d.
Are you poſitive and fretful,
Heedleſs, ignorant, forgetful ?
There, and twenty Follies more,
I have often told before.
Hearken what my Lady ſays,
Have I nothing then to praiſe ?
Ill it fits you to be witty,
Where a Fault ſhould move your Pity.
If you think me top conceited,
Or to Paſſion quickly heated :
If
224
POEMS on ſeveral Occasions.
If my wandring Head be leſs
Set on Reading than on Dreſs;
If I always ſeem ſo dull t'ye;
I can ſolve the Diffi--culty.
You would teach me to be wiſe
Truth and Honour how to prize;
How to ſhine in Converſation,
And with Credit fill my Station :
How to reliſh Notions high :
How to live, and how to die.
But it was decreed by Fate,
Mr. Dean, you come too late ;
Well I know, you can diſcern,
I am now too old to learn:
Follies, from my Youth inſtillid,
Have
my Soul entirely fillid:
In my Head and Heart they center;
Nor will let your Leſſons enter.
Bred a Fondling and an Heireſs ;
Dreſs’t like any Lady-May’reſs;
;
Cocker'd by the Servants round,
Was too Good to touch the Ground,
Thought the Life of ev'ry Lady
Should be one continual Play-day:
Balls, and Maſquerades, and Shows :
Viſits, Píays, and powder'd Beaux.
Thus you have my
Caſe at large;
And may now perform your Charge.
Thofe
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 325
-
Thoſe Materials I have furniſhid,
When by you refin'd and burniſhid,
Muſt, that all the World may know 'em,
Be reduc'd into a Poem.
But, I beg, ſuſpend a while
That ſame paultry burleſque Style ;
Drop for once your conſtant Rule,
Turning all to Ridicule:
Teaching others how to ape ye;
Court nor Parliament can ’ſcape ye;
Treat the Publick and your Friends
Both alike, while neither mends.
Sing my Praiſe in Strain fublime;
Treat not me with doggrel Rhyme.
'Tis but juſt, you ſhould produce
With each Fault, each Fault's Excuſe:
Not to publiſh ev'ry Trifle,
And my few Perfections ſtifte.
With fome Gifts at leaſt endow me,
Which my very
Foes allow me.
Am I ſpightful, proud, unjuſt?
Did I ever break my Truſt?
Which of all your modern Dames-
Cenſures leſs, or leſs defames?
In good Manners am I faulty ?
Can you call me rude or haughty?
Did I e'er my Mite withhold
From the impotent and old?
When
326 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS,
When did eyer I omit
Due Regard for Men of Wit?
When have I Eſteem expreſs’d
For a Coxcomb gaily dreſs'd ?
Do I, like the Female Tribe,
Think it Wit to fleer and gibe?
Who, with leſs-deſigning Ends,
Kindly'r entertains their Friends ?
With good Words and Count'nance ſprightly,
Strive to treat them all politely.
Think not Cards my chief Diverſion :
'Tis a wrong unjuſt Aſperſion :
Never knew I any Good in ’um,
But to doze my Head like Lodanum:
We by Play, as Men by Drinking,
Paſs our Nights to drive out Thinking.
From
my Ailments give me Leiſure,
I ſhall read and think with Pleaſure:
Converſation learn to reliſh,
And with Books
my
Mind embelliſh.
Now, methinks, I hear you cry:
Mr. Dean, you muſt reply.
Madam, I allow 'tis true:
All theſe Praiſes are your Due.
You, like ſome acute Philoſopher,
Ev'ry Fault have drawn a Gloſs over ;
Placing in the ſtrongeſt Light
All
your
Virtues to my Sight.
Though
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 327
Though you lead a blameleſs Life,
Live an humble, prudent Wife;
Anſwer all domeſtick Ends,
What is this to us your Friends?
Though your Children by a Nod
Stand in Awe without the Rod :
Though by your obliging Sway
Servants love
you,
and obey;
Though you treat us with a Smile ;
Clear your Looks, and ſmooth your Style;
Load our Plates from ev'ry Diſh;
This is not the Thing we wilh.
Colinel
may be your Debtor ;
We expect Employment better.
You muſt learn, if you would gain us,
With good Senſe to entertain us.
Scholars, when good Senſe deſcribing,
Call it taſting and imbibing :
Metaphorick Meat and Drink
Is to underſtand and think:
We may carve for others thus;
And let others carve for us;
To diſcourſe and to attend,
Is, to help yourſelf and Friend.
Converſation is but carving ;
Carve for all, your ſelf is ſtarving:
Give no more to ev'ry Gueſt.
Than he's able to digefi :
Give
328 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
your Due,
Give him always of the Prime;
And but little at a Time.
Carve to all but juſt enuff:
Let them neither ſtarve, nor ſtuff :
And that you may have
Let your Neighbours carve for you.
This Compariſon will hold,
Cou'd it well in Rhime be told,
How Converſing, Liſt’ning, Thinking,
Juſtly may reſemble Drinking;
For a Friend a Glaſs you fill,
What is this but to inſtil ?
To conclude this long Eſſay;
Pardon, if I diſobey;
Nor, againſt my nat’ral Vein,
Treat you in Heroick Strain.
I, as all the Pariſh knows,
Hardly can be grave in Proſe :
Still to laſh, and laſhing ſmile,
Ill befits a lofty Style.
From the Planet of
my
Birth
I encounter Vice with Mirth,
Wicked Miniſters of State
I can eaſier fcorn than hate:
And, I find it anſwers right;
Scorn torments them more than Spight,
All the Vices of a Court
Do but ſerve to make me Sport,
Were
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 329
Were I in ſome foreign Realm,
Which all Vices overwhelm;
*
When my Muſe officious ventures
On the Nation's Repreſenters :
Teaching by what golden Rules,
Into Knaves they turn their Fools:
How the Helın is rul'd by W le,
At whoſe Oars, like Slaves, they all pull:
Let the Veſſel ſplit on Shelves;
With the Freight enrich themſelves :
Safe within my little Wherry,
All their Madneſs makes me merry:
Like the Watermen of Thames,
I row by, and call them Names.
Like the ever-laughing Sage,
In a Jeſt I ſpend my Rage.
(Though it muſt be underſtood,
I would hang them if I cou'd)
If I can but fill my Nitch,
I attempt no higher Pitch.
Leave to D'Anvers and his Mate,
Maxims wiſe to rule the State.
Pultney
330 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Pult'ney deep, accompliſh'd St. Johns,
Scourge the Villains with a Vengeance:
Let me, though the Smell be noyfom,
Strip their Bums; let * Caleb hoiſe 'um;
Then apply Ale&to's Whip,
Till they wriggle, howl, and ſkip.
Duce is in you, Mr. Dean :
What can all this Paffion mean?
Mention Courts, you'll ne'er be quiet;
On Corruptions running Riot.
End, as it befits your Station :
Come to Uſe, and Application :
Nor, with Senates keep a Fuſs.
I ſubmit; and anſwer thus.
If the Machinations brewing
To compleat the publick Ruin,
Never once could have the Pow'r
To affect me Half an Hour;
(Sooner would I write in Buſkins,
Mournful Elegies on of Bluſkins)
If I laugh at Whig and Tory;
I conclude à fortiori,
All your Eloquence will ſcarce
Drive me from my fav’rite Farce.
This
* Calub D'Anvers, the famous Writer of the Paper called the
Craftſman. Theſe Papers are ſuppoſed to be written by the
Lord Bm-bmwmke and Mr. P-ltney, created Earl of Barmth.
+ A famous Thief, who was hanged ſome years ago.
POEMS on ſeverai OCCASIONS. 331
This I muſt inſiſt on. For, as
It is well obſery'd by * Horace,
Ridicule has greater Pow'r
To reform the World, than fow'r.
Horſes thus, let Jockies judge elſe,
Switches better guide than Cudgels.
Baſtings heavy, dry, obtuſe,
Only Dulneſs can produce;
While a little gentle Jerking
Sets the Spirits all a working.
Thus, I find it by Experiment,
Scolding moves you leſs than Merriment.
I may ſtorm and rage in vain;
It but ſtupifies your Brain.
But with Raillery to nettle,
Sets your Thoughts upon their Mettle:
Gives Imagination Scope;
Never lets your Mind elope :
Drives out Brangling and Contention,
Brings in Reaſon and Invention.
For
your
Sake as well as mine,
I the lofty Style decline.
I, who love to have a Fling
Both at S-n-e-h-ſe and
That they might ſome better Way tread,
To avoid the publick Hatred;
Thought
9
* Ridiculum acri
Fortius Es melius, &c.
332 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
3
Thought no Method more commodious,
Than to thow their Vices odious:
Which I choſe to make appear,
Not by Anger, but a Sneer :
As my Method of reforming
Is by laughing, not by ſtorming.
(For my Friends have always thought
Tenderneſs my greateſt Fault)
Would you have me change my Style ?
On your Faults no longer ſmile
But, to patch up all your Quarrels,
Quote you Texts from Plutarch's Morals
Or, from Solomon produce
Maxims teaching Wiſdom's Uſe.
If I treat you like a C-dH
You have cheap enough compounded;
Can you put in higher Claims,
Than the Owners of St. ys?
You are not ſo great a Grievance,
As the Hirelings of St. St-s.
You are of a lower Claſs
Than my Friend Sir R-- Braſs.
None of theſe have Mercy found,
I have laugh’d, and laſh'd them round.
ſeen a Rocket fly?
You could ſwear it pierc'd the Sky:
It but reach'd the middle Air,
Burſting into Pieces there :
Thouſand
Have you
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 333
Thouſand Sparkles falling down,
Light on many a Coxcomb's Crown:
See, what Mirth the Sport creates;
Sindges Hair, but breaks no Pates.
Thus, ſhould I attempt to climb,
Treat you in a Style ſublime,
Such a Rocket is my Muſe ;
Should I lofty Numbers chuſe,
E’er I reach'd Parnaſſus’ Top,
I ſhould burſt, and burſting drop.
All
my
Fire would fall in Scraps;
Give your Head ſome gentle Raps ;
Only make it ſmart a while ;
Then, could I forbear to ſmile,
When I found the tingling Pain,
Ent’ring warm your frigid Brain :
Make
you
able upon Sight
To decide of Wrong and Right;
Talk with Senſe whate'er you pleaſe on ;
Learn to reliſh Truth and Reaſon.
Thus we both ſhould gain our Prize :
I to laugh, and you grow wiſe.
VOL. VIII.
Cc
A
334 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
A
L O V E PO E M
FROM A
PHYSICIAN to his MISTRESS.
Written at London in the Year 1738.
B
Heart to you.
Y Poets we are well aſſur'd
That Love, alas! can ne'er be curid;
A complicated Heap of Ills,
Deſpiſing Boluſes and Pills.
Ah! Chloe, this I find is true,
Since firſt I
gave my
Now, by your Cruelty hard-bound
I ſtrain my Guts, my Colon wound:
Now, Jealouſy my grumpling Tripes
Aſſaults, with grating, grinding Gripes :
When Pity in thoſe Eyes I view,
My Bowels wambling make me Spew.
When I an am'rous Kiſs deſign’d,
I belcb'd a Hurricane of Wind.
Once, you a gentle Sigh let fall,
Remember how I fuck'd it all;
What
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 335
What Cholick Pangs froin thence I felt,
Had you but known, your Heart would melt,
Like ruffing Winds in Caverns pent,
Till Nature pointed out a Vent.
How have you torn my Heart to Pieces,
With Maggots, Humours and Caprices!
By which I got the Hemorrhoyds,
And loathſome Worms my Anus voids.
Whene'er I hear a Rival nam'd,
I feel my Body all inflam’d;
Which breaking out in Boyls and Blanes,
With yellow Filtb my Linen ſtains. .
Or, parch'd with unextinguiſh'd Thirſt,
Small Beer I guzzle till I burſt:
And then I drag a bloated Corpus
Swell’d with a Dropſy, like a Porpus ;
When, if I cannot purge or ſtale
I muſt be tapp'd to fill a Pail.
On a Printer's being ſent to Newgate,
by
BET
ETTER we all were in our Graves
Than live in Slavery to Slaves,
Worſe than the Anarchy at Sea,
Where Fiſhes on each other
prey;
Сс 2
Where
336 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Where ev'ry Trout can make as high Rants
O'er his Inferiors as our Tyrants ;
And ſwagger while the Coaſt is clear:
But ſhould a lordly Pike appear,
Away you ſee the Varlet ſcud,
Or hide his coward Snout in Mud.
Thus, if a Gudgeon meet a Roach
He dare not venture to approach ;
Yet ſtill has Impudence to riſe,
And, like Domitian, leap at Flyes.
Upon ſtealing a Crown when the
Dean was aſleep.
By Dr. SHERIDAN.
EAR Dean, ſince you in ſleepy wiſe
D
Have op'd your Mouth, and clos'd
your
Eyes,
Like Ghoſt I glide along your Floor,
And ſoftly ſhut the Parlour Door;
For ſhould I break your ſweet Repoſe,
Who knows what Money you might loſe ?
Since oftentimes it has been found,
A Dream has giv'n ten thouſand Pound.
Then ſleep, my Friend, dear Dean, ſleep on,
And all
your own,
Provided
agree,
That all you loſe belongs to me.
The
you get ſhall be
you to this
POEMS or ſeveral OCCASIONS. 337
SO
whom the Author had a great Efteem.
The Dean's Anſwer.
O about twelve at Night, the Punk
Steals from the Cully when he's drunk;
Nor is contented with a Treat,
Without her Privilege to cheat.
Nor can I the leaſt Diff'rence find,
But that you left no Clap behind.
But Jeft apart, reſtore, you Capon ye,
My twelve * Thirteens and Six-pence ha’penny.
To eat my Meat, and drink my Medlicot,
And then to give me ſuch a deadly Cut-
But 'cis obſerv'd, that Men in Gowns
Are moſt inclin'd to plunder Crowns.
Could you but change a Crown as eaſy
As
one, how 'twould pleaſe ye!
I thought the + Lady at St. Cathrines
Knew how to ſet
you
better Patterns;
For this I will not dine with | Agmondiſham,
And for his Victuals let a Ragman diſh 'em.
Saturday Night.
On
* An Engliſh Shilling pafleth for thirteen Pence in Ireland.
+ Lady Mountcahel.
I Agmandiſham Veſey, Eſq; a very worthy Gentleman, for
ſteal one,
you can
338 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
On the Little Houſe by the Church
Yard of Caſtleknock.
W
HOEVER pleaſeth to enquire,
Why yonder Steeple wants a Spire.
The
gray old Fellow Poet
* Joe
The Philoſophic Cauſe will thew.
Once, on a Time a Weſtern Blaſt,
At leaſt twelve Inches overcaſt,
Reckoning Roof, Weather Cock and all,
Which came with a prodigious Fall;
And tumbling topfi-turvy round
Light with its Bottom on the Ground.
For by the Laws of Gravitation,
It fell into its proper Station.
This is the little ſtrutting Pile,
You ſee juſt by the Church-yard Stile;
The Walls in tumbling gave a Knock;
And thus the Steeple got a Shock;
From whence the neighbouring Farmer calls
The Steeple, Knock, the Vicar, op Walls.
The Vicar once a week creeps in,
Sits with his Knees up to his Chin;
Here
* Mr. Beamont of Prim.
+ Rev. Archdeacon Wall.
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 339
Here conns his Notes, and takes a Whet,
Till the ſinall ragged Flock is met.
A Traveller, who by did paſs,
Obferv'd the Roof behind the Graſs;
On Tiptoe ſtood and rear'd his Snout,
And ſaw the Parſon creeping out;
Was much ſurpriz'd to ſee a Crow
Venture to build his Neſt fo low.
A School-boy ran unto't and thought,
The Crib was down, the Blackbird caught.
A Third, who loſt his Way by Night,
Was forc'd, for Safety, to alight,
And ſtepping o'er the Fabrick-roof,
His Horſe had like to ſpoil his Hoof.
Warburton took it in his Noddle,
This Building was deſigned a Model,
Or of a Pigeon-houſe, or Oven,
To bake one Loaf, and keep one Dove in.
Then * Mrs. Johnſon gave her Verdict,
And every one was pleas'd, that heard it
All that
you
make this Stir about,
Is but a Still which wants a Spout.
The Rev’rend Dr. $ Raymond gueſs'd,
More probably than all the reſt;
He ſaid, but that it wanted Room,
It might have been a Pigmy's Tomb.
The
* A Friend of the Author's.
† Miniſter of Tim.
340 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
;
The Doctor's Family came by,
And little Miſs began to cry;
Give me that Houſe in my own Hand
Then Madam bid the Chariot ſtand,
Call'd to the Clerk in manner mild,
Pray reach that Thing here to the Child,
That Thing, I mean, among the Kale,
And here's to buy a Pot of Ale.
The Clerk ſaid to her in a Heat,
What? tell my Maſter's Country Seat?
Where he comes ev'ry Week from Town;
He wou'd not ſell it for a Crown.
Poh! Fellow keep not ſuch a Pother
In half an Hour thou'lt make another.
Says * Nancy, I can make for Miſs,
A finer Houſe ten times than this,
The Dean will give me Willow-Sticks,
And Joe my Apron full of Bricks.
* The Waiting Woman,
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 341
The Author and his Friends uſed to divert them-
felves for Amuſement in making Riddles, ſome
of which have been printed in the ſecond Vom
lume of his Works, and were well received;
as we hope, the following will be, although
we cannot tell the Authors of each.
A RID D L E.
I
With borrow'd Silver ſhine,
What
you
fee is none of mine,
Firſt I ſhew you but a Quarter,
Like the Bow that guards the Tartar,
Then the Half, and then the Whole,
Ever dancing round a Pole.
And what will raiſe your Admiration,
I am not one of God's Creation,
But ſprung (and I this Truth maintain)
Like Pallas from my Father's Brain.
And after all, I chiefly owe
My Beauty to the Shades below.
Moſt wondrous Forms you ſee me wear
A Man, a Woman, Lion, Bear,
A Fiſh, a Fowl, a Cloud, a Field,
All Figures Heav'n or Earth can yield,
Like Daphne ſometimes in a Tree,
Yet am not one of all you fee.
ANO.
342 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
B
Egotten, and Born, and dying with Noiſe,
The Terror of Women, and Pleaſure of
Boys,
Like the Fiction of Poets concerning the Wind,
I'm chiefly unruly, when ſtrongeſt contin’d.
For Silver and Gold I don't trouble my Head,
But all I delight in is Pieces of Lead;
Except when I trade with a Ship or a Town,
Why then I make Pieces of Iron go down.
One Property more I would have you remark,
No Lady was ever more fond of a Spark;
The Moment I get one my Soul's all a-fire,
And I roar out my Joy, and in Tranſport expire.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
TH
HERE is a Gate, we know full well,
That ſtands 'twixt Heav'n, and Earth,
and Hell,
Where many for a Paſſage venture,
But
very
few are found to enter ;
Altho’’tis open Night and Day,
They for that Reaſon ſhun this Way:
Both Dukes and Lords abhor its Wood,
They can't come near it for their Blood.
What
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 343
What other way they take to go,
Another Time I'll let you know.
Yet Commoners with greateſt Eaſe,
Can find an Entrance when they pleaſe.
The pooreſt hither march in State,
(Or they can never paſs the Gate)
Like Roman Generals triumphant,
And then they take a Turn and jump on't.
If graveſt Parſons here advance,
They cannot paſs before they dance;
There's not a Soul, that does reſort here,
Bui ſtrips himſelf to pay the Porter.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η
T H E R.
FR
ROM Heav'n I fall, tho’ from Earth I begin,
No Lady alive can ſhew ſuch a Skin.
I am bright as an Angel, and light as a Feather,
But heavy, and dark, when you ſqueeze me
together.
Tho' Candor and Truth in my Aſpect I bear,
Yet
many poor Creatures I help to enſnare.
Tho' ſo much of Heav'n appears in my Make,
The fouleſt Impreſſions I eafily cake.
My Parent and I produce one anocher,
The Mother the Daughter, the Daughter the
Mother.
ANO.
344 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
I'M
"Mup, and down, and round about,
Yet all the World can't find me out,
Tho' Hundreds have employ'd their Leiſure,
They never yet cou'd find my Meaſure.
I'm found almoſt in ev'ry Garden,
Nay, in the Compaſs of a Farthing.
There's neither Chariot, Coach, or Mill,
Can move an Inch except I will.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
.
IA
AM jet-Black, as you may ſee,
The Son of Pitch, and gloomy Night;
Yet all that know me will
agree,
I'm dead except I live in Light.
Sometimes in Panegyrick high,
Like lofty Pindar I can foar,
And raiſe a Virgin to the Sky,
Or fink her to a pocky Whore.
My Blood this Day is very ſweet,
To-morrow of a bitter Juice,
Like Milk ’tis cry'd about the Street,
And ſo apply'd to diff'rent Uſe.
Moſt
POEMS on several OCCASIONS. 345
Moſt wond'rous is my Magick Power ;
For with one Colour I can paint;
I'll make the Dev'l a Saint this Hour,
Next make a Devil of a Saint.
Thro' diſtant Regions I can fly,
Provide me but with Paper Wings,
And fairly ſhew a Reaſon, why
There ſhou'd be Quarrels among Kings.
And after all you'll think it odd,
When learned Doctors will diſpute,
That I ſhou'd point the Word of God,
And ſhew where they can beſt confute.
Let Lawyers bawl and ſtrain their Throats,
'Tis I that muſt the Lands convey,
And ſtrip the Clients to their Coats;
Nay give their
away.
very Souls
Α Ν N o T H E R.
E
VER eating, never cloying,
All devouring, all deſtroying,
Never finding full Repaſt,
Till I eat the World at laſt,
ANO.
346 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Α Ν Ο Τ
O T H E R.
WE
E are little airy Creatures,
All of diff'rent Voice and Features,
One of us in Glaſs is ſet,
One of us you'll find in Jet,
T'other you may ſee in Tin,
And the fourth a Box within,
If the fifth
you
Tou'd purſue,
It can never fly from
you.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
A
LL of us in one you'll find,
Brethren of a wond'rous Kind,
Yet among us all no Brother
Knows one Tittle of the other;
We in frequent Councils are,
And our Marks of Things declare,
Where, to us unknown, a Clerk
Sits, and takes them in the Dark.
He's the Regiſter of All
In our Ken, both great and ſmall;
By us forms his Laws, and Rules,
He's our Maſter, we his Tools;
Yet we can, with greateſt Eaſe,
Turn and wind him where we pleaſe.
One
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
347
One of us alone can ſleep,
Yet no Watch the reſt will keep,
But the Moment that he cloſes,
Ev'ry Brother elſe repoſes.
If Wine's bought, or Victuals dreſt
One enjoys them for the Reſt.
Pierce us all with wounding Steel,
One for all of us will feel.
Tho' ten thouſand Canons roar,
Add to them ten thouſand more,
Yet but one of us is found
Who regards the dreadful Sound.
Do what is not fit to tell,
There's but one of us can ſmell.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
FONTINELLA to FLORINDA,
WHE
HEN on my Boſom thy bright Eyes,
Florinda, dart their Heav'nly Beams,
I feel not the leaſt Love Surprize,
Yet endleſs Tears flow down in Streams.
There's nought ſo beautiful in thee,
But you may find the ſame in me.
The
348 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS.
The Lillies of thy Skin compare;
In me you ſee them full as white,
The Roſes of your Cheeks, I dare
Affirm, can't glow to more Delight.
Then, fince I Thew as fine a Face,
Can
you refuſe a ſoft Embrace.
Ah lovely Nymph, thou'rt in thy Prime!
And ſo am I whilſt thou art here;
But ſoon will come the fatal Time,
When all we ſee ſhall diſappear.
"Tis mine to make a juſt Reflection,
And yours to follow
my Direction.
Then catch Admirers while you may;
Treat not your Lovers with Diſdain;
For Time with Beauty flies away,
And there is no Return again.
the fad Account I bring,
Life's Autumn has no ſecond Spring.
To you
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
N
(EVER ſpeaking, ſtill awake,
Pleaſing moſt when moſt I ſpeak,
The Delight of old and young,
Tho' I ſpeak without a Tongue.
Nought
1
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 349
Nought but one Thing can confound me,
Many Voices joining round me;
Then I fret, and rave and gabble,
Like the Labourers of Babel.
Now I am a Dog, or Cow,
I can bark, or I can low,
I can bleat, or I can fing,
Like the Warblers of the Spring.
Let the Love-lick Bard complain,
And I mourn the cruel Pain;
Let the happy Swain rejoice,
And I join my helping Voice;
Both are welcome, Grief or Joy,
I with either ſport and toy.
Tho'a Lady, I am ſtout,
Drums and Trumpets bring me out;
Then I claſh and roar, and rattle,
Join in all the Din of Battle.
Jove, with all his loudeſt Thunder,
When I'm vext, can't keep me under
Yet ſo tender is my Ear,
That the loweſt Voice I fear;
Much I dread the Courtier's Fate,
When his Merit's out of Date;
For I hate a filent Breath,
And a Whiſper is
Death.
is my
VOL, VIII,
Dd
ANO
1
1
350 POEMS on ſeveral Occasions.
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R.
M
OST Things by me do riſe and fall,
And as I pleaſe they're great and ſmall;
Invading Foes, without Reſiſtance,
With Eaſe I make to keep their Diſtance ;
Again, as I'm diſpos'd, the Foe
Will come, tho' not a Foot they go.
Both Mountains, Woods, and Hills, and Rocks,
And gaming Goats, and fleecy Flocks,
And lowing Herds, and piping Swains,
Come dancing to me o'er the Plains.
The greateſt Whale, that ſwims the Sea
Does inſtantly my Pow'r obey.
In vain from me the Sailor flies,
The quickeſt Ship I can ſurprize,
And turn it as I have a Mind,
And move it againſt Tyde and Wind.
Nay, bring me here the talleſt Man,
I'll ſqueeze him to a little Span,
Or bring a tender Child and pliant,
You'll ſee me ſtretch him to a Giant
: ;
Nor ſhall they in the leaſt complain,
Becauſe my Magick gives no Pain.
ANO.
- -
POEMS on feveral OCCASIONS.
351
Α Ν Ο Τ Η Ε R,
W?
E are little Brethren twain,
Arbiters of Loſs and Gain,
Many to our Counters run,
Some are made, and ſome undone.
But, Men find it to their Coſt,
Few are made, but Numbers loft:
Tho’we play them Tricks for ever,
Yet, they always hope, our Favour.
D.
grave Divines
To Doétor SHERIDAN.
EAR Sheridan! a gentle Pair
Of Gallſtown Lads (for ſuch they are)
Beſide a Brace of
Adore the Smoothneſs of thy Lines;
Smooth as our Baſon's Silver Flood,
’Ere George had robb’d it of its Mud;
Smoother than Pegaſus' old Shoe,
"Ere Vulcan comes to make him new,
The Board on which we ſet our AS
Is not ſo ſmooth as are thy Verſes,
Compar'd with which (and that's enuff)
A Smoothing-Ir'n itſelf is ruff,
Nor praiſe I leſs that Circumciſion,
By modern Poets callid Eliſion,
Dd
Which
da
352 POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS,
Which in its proper Stations plac't
Makes thy Verſe ſmooth, and makes them laft.
Thus, a wiſe Taylor is not pinching;
But turns at ev'ry Seam an Inch in,
Or elfe, be ſure, your Broad-cloth Breeches
Will ne'er be ſmooth, nor hold the Stitches.
Thy Verſe, like Bricks, defy the Weather,
When ſmooth'd by rubbing them together;
Thy Words fo cloſely wedg’d and ſhort, are
Like Walls, more laſting without Mortar;
By leaving out the needleſs Vowels
You ſave the Charge of Lime and Trowels.
One Letter ſtill another lockss
Each groov'd, and dove-tail'd like a Box,
Thy Muſe is tuckt up and ſuccinct,
In Chains thy Syllables are linkt,
Thy Words together tyd in ſmall Hanks
Cloſe as the Macedonian Phalanx;
Or like the Umbo of the Romans
Which fierceſt Foes could break by no Means.
The Critick to his Grief will find
How firmly theſe Indentures bind:
So, io the kindred Painter's Art
The ſhort’ning is the niceſt Part.
Philologers of future Ages
How will they pore upon thy Pages !
Nor will they dare to break the Joints,
But help thee to be read with Points :
Or,
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS,
353
Or, elſe to thew their learned Labour, you
May backward be perus'd like Hebrew,
Wherein they need not loſe a Bit,
Or, of thy Harmony or Wit,
To make a Work compleatly fine,
Number and Weight and Meaſure join.
Then all muſt grant your Lines are weighty,
Where thirty weigh as much as eighty.
All muſt allow your Numbers more,
Where twenty Lines exceed fourſcore;
Nor can we think your Meaſure ſhort
Where leſs than forty fill a Quart,
With Alexandrian in the Cloſe
Long, long, long, long, like Dan's long Noſe.
A REBUS written by a * Lady, on the
Rev. D----N S------T. With his
ANSWER.
CUT
UT the Name of the MAN 70--feph.
who his Miſtreſs deny'd,
And let the firſt of it, be only
apply'd
To join with the Prophet who Nathan.
DAVID did chide.
Then
* Mrs. Vanhonrigh.
354 POEMS or ſeveral OCCASIONS.
Then ſay what a Horſe is that runs very faſt,
And that which deſerves to be firſt put the laſt ;
Spell all then, and put them together, to find
The NAME and the VIRTUES of Him I de-
ſign'd.
Like the Patriarch in Egypt, he's vers’d in the
State,
Like the Prophet in feury, he's free with the Great.
Like a Racer he flies to ſuccour with Speed,
When his Friends want his Aid, or Deſert is in
Need.
The ANSWER.
THE
HE NYMPH who wrote this in an amo-
rous Fit,
I cannot but Envy the Pride of her Wit.
Which thus ſhe will venture profuſely to throw,
On ſo mean a Deſign, and a Subject fo low.
For inean’s her Deſign, and her Subječt as mean,
The Firſt but a Rebus, the Laſt but a DEAN.
A Dean's but a Parſon, and what is a Rebus ?
A Thing never known to the Muſes or Phæbus :
The Corruption of Verſe, for when all is done,
It is but a Paraphraſe made on a Punn;
But
POEMS on ſeveral OCCASIONS. 355
1
;
But a Genius like her's no Subject can ſtifle,
It Thews and diſcovers itſelf through a Trifle.
By reading this Trifle, I quickly began
To find her a great Wit, but the Dean a ſmall
Man,
Rich Ladies will furniſh their Garrets with Stuff,
Which others for Mantuas wou'd think fine
enuff
So the Wit that is laviſhly thrown away here,
Might furniſh a Second Rate Poet a Year :
Thus much for the Verſe, we proceed to the
next,
Where the NYMPH has entirely forſaken her
Text:
Her fine Panegyricks are quite out of Seaſon,
And what She deſcribes to be Merit is Treaſon :
The Changes which Faction has made in the
State,
Have
put the Dean's Politicks quite out of Date:
Now no one regards what he utters with Free-
dom,
And thou'd he write Pamphlets, no Great Man
wou'd read 'em;
And thou'd Want or Deſert ſtand in need of his
Aid,
This Racer wou'd prove but a dull founder'd
Jade.
LETTERS
3.56
LETTERS to and from
LETTERS
TO AND FROM
Doctor SWIFT.
Dr, Swift to Dr. WILLIAM KING, Arch-
biſhop of Dublin.
I
London, Oet. 10, 1710.
MY LORD,
HAD the Honour of your Grace's Letter
of September 16, but I was in no Pain to
acknowledge it, nor ſhall be at any other Time,
until I have ſomething that I think worth trou.
bling you; becauſe I know how much an inſig-
nificant Letter is worſe than none at all. I had
likewiſe your * Memorial, &c, in another Pac-
quet. I ſhould have been glad the Biſhops had
been here; although I take Biſhops to be the
worſt Solliciters in the World, except for them-
ſelves. They cannot give themſelves the little
Troubles of Attendance that other Men are
content to ſwallow : Elſe, I am ſure, their two
Lord
A Memorial of the Biſhops and Clergy of Irgland, concer:
ing the Firk Fruits and Twentieth Partş.
Dr. SWIFT.
357
Lordſhips might have ſucceeded eaſier than
Men of my Level are likely to do.
As ſoon as I received the Pacquets from your
Grace, I went to wait upon Mr. * Harley.
I had prepared him before by another Hand
where he was very intimate: and got myſelf
repreſented (which I might juſtly do) as one
extremely ill uſed by the laſt Miniſtry, after
ſome Obligations, becauſe I refuſed to go cer-
tain Lengths they would have me.
This hap-
pened to be in ſome Sort Mr. Harley's own
Caſe. He had heard very often of me, and
received me with the greateſt Marks of Kind.
neſs and Eſteem; as I was whiſpered he would;
and the more upon the ill Uſage I had met
with. I ſat with him two Hours among Com-
pany, and two Hours we were alone. Where
I told him my Buſineſs, and gave him the Hi-
ſtory of it: Which he heard as I could wiſh,
and declared he would do his utmoſt to effect
it. I told him the Difficulties we met with by
Lords Lieutenants and their Secretaries; who
would not ſuffer others to ſollicit, and neglect-
ed it themſelves. He fell in with me intirely:
and ſaid, neither they nor himſelf ſhould have
the Merit of it, but the Queen, to whom he
would ſhew my Memorial with the firſt Oppor-
tunity, in order, if poſſible, to have it done in
this Interregnum. I ſaid the Honour and Me-
rit, next to the Queen, would be his; that it
Was
* Lord Migh Treafurer of England, created afterwards Earl
of Oxford.
358
LETTERS to and from
was a great Encouragement to the Biſhops that
he was in the Treaſury, whom they knew to
be the chief Adviſer of the Queen, to grant
the fame Favour in England: That conſequent-
ly the Honour and Merit were nothing to him,
who had done ſo much greater Things: And
that for my Part, I thought he was obliged to
the Clergy of Ireland for giving him an Oppor-
tunity of gratifying the Pleaſure he took in do-
ing Good to the Church. He took my Com-
pliment extremely well, and renewed his Pro-
mifes. Your Grace will pleaſe to know, that
befides the Firſt Fruits, I told him of the Crown
Rents; and ſhewed the Nature and Value of
them; but faid; my Opinion was, that the
Convocation had not mentioned them in their
Petition to the Queen, delivered to Lord *Whar-
ton with the Addreſs, becauſe they thought the
Times would not then bear it; but that I look-
ed on myſelf to have a diſcretionary Power to
follicit it in fo favourable a Juncture.
I had two Memorials ready of my own
drawing up, as ſhort as poſſible, ſhewing the
Nature of the Things, and how long it had
been depending, &c. One of theſe Memori-
als had a Paragraph at the End relating to the
Crown Rents. I would have given him the
laft; but I gave him the other, which he im-
mediately read, and promiſed to ſecond Both
with his beſt Offices to the Queen. As I have
placed that Paragraph in my Memorial, it can
do no Harm, and may poſſible do Good.
How.
* Then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
Dr. SWIFT
359
However, I beg your Grace to ſay nothing of
it, but if it dieth, let it die in Silence: We
muſt take up with what we can get.
I forgot to tell your Grace, that when I ſaid
I was empowered, &c. he deſired to ſee my
Powers: And then I heartily wiſhed them
more ample than they were : And I have ſince
wondered what Scruple a Number of Biſhops
could have to empower a Clergyman to do the
Church and them a Service, without any
Ima-
gination of Intereſt for himſelf.
Mr. Harley has invited me to dine with him
To-day: But I ſhall not put him upon this
Diſcourſe ſo ſoon. If he begins it himſelf, I
ſhall add it at the Bottom of this. He ſays,
Mr. Secretary * St. John deſireth to be acquainted
with me, and that he will bring us together.
That
may
be a further Help; although I told
him I had no Thoughts of applying to any but
himſelf, wherein he differed from me, and de-
ſred I would ſpeak to others, if it were but
for Form; and ſeemed to mean, as if he would
avoid the Envy of being thought to do ſuch a
Thing alone. But an old Courtier (an intimate
Friend) adviſed me ſtill to let him know, I re-
lied wholly upon his good Inclinations and
Credit with the Queen, &c.
I find I am forced to ſay all this very con-
fuſedly, juſt as it lieth in my Memory, but per-
haps it may give your Grace a truer Idea how
Matters are, than if I had writ in more Order.
I am, c. JONATHAN SWIFT.
Afterwards created Lord Viſcount Bolingbreke.
360
LETTERS to and from
The Archbiſhop to Dr. SWIFT,
I
ent.
Dublin, Ost. 24, 1710.
Reverend Sir,
Thank
you for yours of the 19th Inſtant, ,
and ſend you incloſed a farther Power by
my Lord Primate and me. My Lord is not a.
ble to come to Town, which obliged me to
wait on him at Johnſton, and hindered the join-
ing of two or three Biſhops in it who are yet
in Town: But I ſuppoſe our ſigning is ſuffici-
I went in the Morning to wait on his
Grace, and intended when he had ſigned it, to
have applied to other Biſhops; but he was a-
broad taking the Air, and I could not get it
until it was late, and thought it better to ſign
and ſend it, as it is, than wait for another Poft.
You may expect by the next a Letter to his
Grace of Canterbury, and another to the Arch-
biſhop of York. I apprized them both of the
Buſineſs. The latter, if I remember right,
ſpoke to her Majeſty about it; I am not ſure,
that her Majeſty remembers what I ſaid on the
Subject; but am ſure ſhe was pleaſed to ſeem
fatisfied with it, and to ſcruple only the Time,
ſuppoſe, not thinking it fit to confer the Fa-
vour ſhe deſigned the Clergy of Ireland by the
Hands it muſt then have paſſed through, but
faid, that in the Interval of a Change, or Aba
fence
Dr. SWIFT.
361
ferice of a Chief Governor, it ſhould be done.
I hope, now is the proper Time, and that her
Majeſty will rather follow the Dictates of her
own bountiful Inclinations, than the Intrigues
of cunning covetous Counſellors.
I thought to have troubled you with a great
many Things, but ſuch a Crowd of Viſitors have
broken in upon me before I could lock my
Gates, that I am forced to break off abruptly,
recommending you to God's Care.
I am, &C.
WILLIAM DUBLIN.
The * Lord Primate and Archbiſhop of DUBLIN,
to Dr. Swift.
WE
SIR
Dublin, Oet. 24, 1710.
E directed a Letter to the Biſhops of
Oſory and Killaloo laſt Auguft, defiring
and empowering them to follicit the Affair of
our Firſt Fruits and Twentieth Parts, with her
Majeſty; which has depended ſo long, not-
withſtanding her Majeſty's good Intentions ;
and ſeveral Promiſes of the Chief Governors
here, to lay our Addreſſes before her Majeſty
in the beſt Manner. We were then apprehen-
ſive that thoſe Biſhops might return from Eng-
land before the Bufineſs could be effected, and
therefore we deſired them to concern you in it;
having
* Dr. Narcifus Marſh.
162
LETTERS to and from
having ſo good Aſſurance of your Ability, Pru-
dence and Fitneſs to proſecute ſuch a Matter.
We find the Biſhops returned before you came
to London, for which we are very much con-
cerned; and judging this the moſt proper Time
to proſecute it with Succeſs, we entreat you to
take the full Management of it.into your Hands;
and do commit the Care of ſolliciting it to
your Diligence and Prudence; defiring you to
let us know, from Time to Time, what Pro-
greis is made in it. And, if any Thing farther
be neceſſary on our Part, on your Intimation,
we ſhall be ready to do what ſhall be judged
reaſonable.
This, with our Prayers, and the good Suc-
ceſs of your Endeavours, is all from
SIR, Your, &C.
NARCISSUS ARDMAGH,
WILLIAM DUBLIN.
The Archbiſhop of DUBLIN to Dr. SWIFT.
T!
SIR,
Dublin, Dec. 16, 1710.
HIS is to acknowledge the Receipt of
yours of the 20th paſt, which came not
to my Hands till Thurſday laſt, ky Reaſon of
Winds that kept the Pacquets on the other Side.
I find the Matter of our Firſt Fruits, &c.
is talked of now. I reckon on nothing certain,
till
Dr. SWIFT.
363
till her Majeſty's Letter comes in Form: And
Quære, Why ſhould not you come and bring
it with you? It would make you a very wel-
come Clergyman to Ireland, and be the beſt
Means to ſatisfy Mankind how it was obtained,
although I think that will be out of Diſpute.
I am very well apprized of the Diſpatch you
gave this Affair, and well pleaſed, that I judged
better of the Perſon fit to be employed than
ſome of my Brethren. But now it is done, as
I hope it is effectually, they will aſſume as
much as their Neighbours; which I ſhall never
contradict.
Things are taking a new Turn here as well
as with you, and I am of Opinion, by the
Time you come here, few will profeſs them-
ſelves Whiggs. The greateſt Danger I appre-
hend, and which terrifies me more than per-
haps you will be able to imagine, is the Fury
and Indiſcretion of ſome of our own People,
who never had any Merit, but by imbroiling
Things; they did, and I am afraid will
yet
do
Miſchief.
I heartily recommend you to God's Favour,
And am, &C.
WILLIAM DUBLIN.
N. B. Dr. Swift uſed his Credit with the Mi-
niſtry, for the Benefit of the Church of Ireland,
so beartily and to effettually at this critical Time,
that
364 LETTERS to and from
that, he procured a Grant from the Queen for
exonerating the Clergy of Ireland from paying
Twentieth Parts, dated the Seventh of February,
1710. And another Grant bearing the ſame
Date, to Narciſſus Lord Archbiſhop of Armagh,
Sir Conſtantine Phipps Lord High Chancellor of
Ireland, William Lord Archbiſhop of Dublin,
John Lord Archbiſhop of Tuam, and others, of
the Firſt Fruits payable out of all Eccleßaftical Be-
nefices, in Truſt to be for ever applied towards
purchaſing Glebes, and building Reſidentiary
Houſes for poor-endowed Vicars.
The Succeſs of which charitable Fund hither-
to, may be ſeen in the
printed Pamplet contain-
ing an Account of the Firſt Fruits of Ireland.
The Archbiſhop to Dr. Swift.
I
London, Suffolk-ſtreet,
SIR,
Nov. 22, 1716.
Read yours of the thirteenth Inſtant with
great Satisfaction. It is not only an Advan-
tage to you and me, that there ſhould be a
good Correſpondence between us, but alſo to
the Publick; and I aſſure you I had much ado .
to perſwade People here, that we kept any to-
lerable Meaſures with one another ; much leſs,
that there was any thing of a good Intelligence :
And therefore, you judged right that, it ought
not to be ſaid that, in fome, many Months,
that I had not received any Letter from you.
I do
Dr. SWIFT.
365
1
I do a little admire, that thoſe that ſhould
be your fasteſt Friends, ſhould be ſo oppoſite
to acknowledge the Service you did in procure-
ing the Twentieth Parts and Firſt Fruits : I
know no Reaſon for it, except the Zeal, I ſhewed
to do you Juſtice in that Particular, from the
Beginning. But ſince I only did it, as obliged
to bear Teſtimony to the Truth in a Matter,
which I certainly knew, and would have done
the faine for the worſt Enemy I had in the
World, I ſee no Reaſon why you ſhould ſuf-
fer, becauſe I among others was your Witneſs.
But, be not concerned, Ingratitude is warranted
by modern and antient Cuſtom : And it is more
Honour for a Man to have it aſked, why he
had not a ſuitable Return to his Merits, than
why he was overpaid. Benefacere et male au-
dire is the Lot of the beſt Men.
If Calumný
or Ingratitude could have put me out of my
Way, God knows where I ſhould have wan-
dered by this Time.
I am glad the Buſineſs of St. * Nicholas is
over any Way: My Inclination was Mr. Wall;
that I might have joined the Vicarage of Caftlia
knock to the Prebend of Malahidart; which
would have made a good Proviſion for one Man,
ſerved the Cures better, and yielded more then
to the Incumbent, than it can do now, when
VoL.VUI.
Ee
in
* The Dean and Chapter of St. Patrick's are the Appropria-
tors of that Church, and have the Right of beſtowing the Cure
on whom they pleaſe.
366
LETTERS to and from
in different Hands. But I could not compafy
it without uſing more Power over my Clergy,
than I am willing to exert. But as I am thank-
ful to you for your Condeſcenſion in that AF-
fair, ſo I will expect that thoſe, with whom
you have complied, ſhould thew their Senſe of
it, by a mutual Return of the like Compliance,
when there ſhall be Occaſion. Such reciprocal
kind Offices are the ground of mutual Confi-
dence and Friendſhip, and the Fewel that keeps
them alive: And, I think, nothing can contri-
bute more to our common Eaſe and the pub-
lick Good, than maintaining theſe between you
and me, and with the Clergy.
We have a ſtrong Report, that my Lord
Bolingbroke will return here, and be pardoned;
certainly it muſt not be for nothing. I hope
he can teil no ill Story of you.
I add only my Prayers for you; and am,
SIR,
Your moſt humble Servant,
And Brother,
WILLIAM DUBLIN
Dr. Swift to the Archbiſhop of DUBLIN.
I
My LORD,
Trim, Dec. 16, 1716.
Should be ſorry to ſee my Lord Bolingbroke
following the Trade of an Informer: Be-
cauſe
Dr. SWIFT.
367
cauſe he is a Perſon for whom I always had,
and ſtill continue, a very great Love and Eſteem.
For, I think, as the reſt of Mankind do, that
Inforiners are a deteſtable Race of People, al-
though they may be fometimes neceſſary. Be.
ſides, I do not ſee whom his Lordihip can inform
againſt, except himſelf: He was three or four
Days at the Court of France, while he was Se-
cretary; and it is barely poſſible he might then
have entered into ſome deep Negotiation with
the Pretender : Although I would not be-
lieve him, if he ſhould ſwear it. Becauſe he
proteſted to me, that he never ſaw him but once ;
and that was at a great Diſtance, in publick at
an Opera. As to any others of the Miniſtry
at that Time, I am confident he cannot accuſe
them : And that they will appear as innocent
with relation to the Pretender, as any who are
now at the Helm. And, as to my ſelf, if I
were of any Importance, I ſhould be very eaſy
under ſuch an Accuſatiori ; much eaſier, than I
am to think your Grace imagineth me in any
Danger; or that Lord Bolingbroke ſhould have
any ill Story to tell of me. He knoweth, and
loveth, and thinketh too well of me, to be capa -
ble of ſuch an Action. But I am ſurprized to
think your Grace could talk, or act, or corre-
fpond with me for ſome Years paſt; while you
muſt needs believe me a moft falfe and vile
Man; declaring to you on all Occaſions my
Abborrence of the Pretender ; and yet privately
engaged with a Miniſtry to bring him in; and
Ee 2
there.
ز
368 LETTERS to and from
therefore warning me to look to my felf, and
prepare my Defence againſt a falſe Brother,
coming over to diſcover ſuch Secrets as would
hang me.
Had there been ever the leaſt Over-
ture or Intent of bringing in the Pretender, during
my Acquaintance with the Miniſtry, I think I
muſt have been very ſtupid not to have picked
out ſome Diſcoveries or Sufpicions. And, al-
though I am not ſure, I ſhould have turned
Informer ; yet, I am certain I ſhould have
dropt ſome general Cautions; and immediately
have retired. When People ſay; Things were
not ripe at the Queen's Death; they ſay, they
know not what. Things were rotten : And had
the Miniſters any ſuch Thoughts, they ſhould
have begun three Years before; and they, who
ſay otherwiſe, underſtand nothing of the State
of the Kingdom at that Time.
But whether I am miſtaken or no in other
Men, I beg your Grace to believe, that I am
not miſtaken in my ſelf. I always profeſſed to
be againſt the Pretender; and am fo ftill. And
this is not to make my Court (which I know
is vain) for I own my ſelf full of Doubts, Fears,
and Diffatisfactions, which I think on as ſel-
domn as I can: Yet, if I were of any Value,
the Publick may ſafely rely on my Loyalty ; be-
cauſe I look upon the coming of the Pretender
as a greater Evil, than any we are like to ſuffer
under the worſt Whig-Miniſtry that can be
found.
I have
ز
Dr. SWIFT.
369
I have not ſpoke or thought ſo much of
Party theſe two Years, nor could any Thing
have tempted me to it; but the Grief I have
in ſtanding fo ill in your Grace's Opinion.
I beg your Grace's Bleſſing,
And am, &c.
JONATHAN SWIFT.
Dr. Swift to Lord CARTERET.
MY LORD,
AM obliged to return your Excellency my
T
moſt humble Thanks for your Favour to
Mr. Sheridan, becauſe when I recommended
him to you, I received a very gracious Anſwer ;
and yet I am ſenſible, that your chief Motive to
make ſome Proviſion for him, was what be-
came a great and good Perſon, your diſtinguiſh-
ing hiin as a Man of Learning, and one who
deſerved Encouragement, on Account of his
great Diligence and Succeſs in a moſt laborious
and difficult * Employment.
Since your Excellency hath had an Opportu-
nity, ſo early in your Government, of gratify-
ing your Engliſh Dependents by a Biſhoprick,
and the beſt + Deanery in the Kingdom, I can-
not
* A School-maſter.
+ Downe.
370
LETTERS to and from
not but hope, that the Clergy of Ireland will
have their Share in your Patronage. There is
hardly a Gentleman in the Nation who hath
not a near Alliance with ſome of that Body;
and moſt of them who have Sons, uſually breed
one to the Church ; although they have been
of late Years much diſcouraged and diſcon-
tented, by ſeeing Strangers to the Country al-
moſt perpetually taken into the greateſt Eccle-
fiaſtical Preferments, and too often, under Go-
vernor's very different from your Excellency,
the Choice of Perſons was not to be accounted
for, either to Prudence or Juſtice.
The Misfortune of having Biſhops perpetu-
ally from England, as it muſt needs quench the
Spirit of Emulation among us to excel in
Learning and the Study of Divinity, ſo it
produceih another great Diſcouragement, that
thoſe Prelates uſually draw after them Colonies
of Sons, Nephews, Couſins, or old College-
Companions, to whom they beſtow the beſt
Preferments in their Gift; and, thus the young.
Men, ſent into the Church from the Univerſity
here, have no better Proſpect than to be Cu-
rates, or ſmall Country-Vicars, for Life.
It will become ſo excellent a Governor as
you, a little to moderate this great Partiality;
wherein, as you will act with Juſtice and Rea-
fon, fo you will gain the Thanks and Prayers
of the whole Nation, and take away one great
Cauſe of univerſal Diſcontent. For, I believe,
your Excellency willagree, that there is not ano-
ther
Dr. SWIFT.
371
ther Kingdom in Europe, where the Natives
(even thoſe deſcended from the Conquerors)
have been treated, as if they were almoſt un-
qualified for any Employment either in Church
or State.
Your Excellency, when I had the Honour
to attend you, was pleaſed to let me name
fome Clergymen, who are generally underſtood
by their Brethren to be the moſt diſtinguiſhed
for their Learning and Piety. I remember the
Perſons were, Dr. Delany, Dr. Ward of the
North, Mr. Ecklyn, Mr. Synge of Dublin, and
Mr. Corbet; they were named by me without
any Regard to Friendſhip, having little Com-
merce with moſt of them, but only to the u-
niverſal Characier they bear : This was the
Method I always took with my Lord * Oxford,
at his own Command, who was pleaſed to be-
lieve I would not be ſwayed by any private Af-
fections, and confeſſed I never deceived him,
for I always · dealt openly when I offered any
Thing in Behalf of a Friend, which was but
ſeldom, becauſe, in that caſe, I made uſe of
the cominon Method at Court, to follicit by
another.
I ſhall ſay nothing of the young
the Clergy, of whom the three hopefulleſt
are faid to be Mr. Stopford, Mr. King, and Mr.
Dobbs, all Fellows of the of College, of whom
Men among
I am
* Lord High Treaſurer to Queen Anne',
† The Univerſity of Dublin.
372
LETTERS to and from
I am only acquainted with the firſt; but; theſe
are not likely to be great Expectors under your
Excellency's Adminiſtration, according to the
uſual Period of Governors here.
If I have dealt honeſtly in repreſenting ſuch
Perſons among the Clergy, as are generally al-
lowed to have moſt Merit; I think I have done
you a Service, and I am ſure I have made
you
a great Compliment, by diſtinguiſhing you from
moſt great Men I have known theſe thirty
Years paſt, whom I have always obſerved to
act as if they never received a true Character,
any
Value for the Beſt, and conſequent-
Jy diſpenſed their Favours without the leaſt Re-
gard to Abilities or Virtue. And this Defect
I have often found among thoſe from whom I
leaſt expected it.
That your Excellency may long live a Bleſs-
ing and Ornament to your Country, by pur-
ſuing, as you have hitherto done, the Steps of
Honour and Virtue, is the moſt earneſt Wiſh
and Prayer of,
nor had
My Lord,
Your Excellency's moſt obedient,
and moſt humble Servant,
July 3, 1725.
JONATH, SWIFT.
LET
Dr. SWIFT.
373
An Anſwer to Lord PALMERSTON's civil
polite Letter. (ſo indorſed]
1
My Lord,
Jan. 31, 1723.
Deſire
you will give your ſelf the laſt Trou-
ble I ſhall ever put you to.
I do entirely
acquit you of any Injury or Injuſtite done to
Mr. * Curtis; and if you had read that Paſſage
in my Letter a ſecond Time, you could not poſ-
ſibly have ſo ill underſtood me.
The Injury
and Injuſtice the young Man received were
from thoſe, who claiming a Title to his Cham-
bers took away his Key; reviled and threatened
to beat him; with a great deal of the like mon-
ſtrous Conduct: Whereupon, at his Requeſt,
I laid the Caſe before to you, as it appeared to
And it would have been very ſtrange, if,
on Account of a Trifle, and of a Perſon, for
whom I have no Concern further than as he
was once employed by me, on the Character
he bears of Piety and Learning, I ſhould charge
you with Injury and Injuſtice to him, when I
know
me.
* A Reſident Maſter in Trinity College, whom the Dean made
one of the four Minor-Canoris of St. Patrick's Cathedral.
+ Lord Viscount Palmerſton (Nephew to Sir William Temple)
hath a Right to beltow two handloine Chambers in the Univerſi-
ty of Dublin, upon ſuch Students as he and his Heirs ſhall think
proper, on Account of the Benefactions of this Family towards
the College Buildings.
374
LETTERS to and from
know from himſelf and Mr. Reading, that you
were not anſwerable for either.
As
you
ſtate the Caſe of Tenant at Will, I
fully agree, that no Law can compel you ;
but Law was not at all in my Thoughts.
Now, my Lord, if what I writ of Injury and
Injuſtice were wholly applied in plain Terms to
one or two of the College here, whoſe Names
were below my Remembrance; you will con-
fider how I could deſerve an Anſwer in every
Line full of foul Inſinuations, open Reproaches,
jeſting Flirts, and contumelious Terms; and
what Title you claim to give me ſuch Treat-
ment. I own my Obligation to Sir * William
Temple, for recommending me to the late King,
although without Succeſs; and for his Choice
of me to take Care of his poſthumous Write-
ings. But, I hope, you will not charge my
being in his Family, as an Obligation, for I
was educated to little purpoſe, if I had choſen
his Houſe on any other Motives, than the Be-
nefit of his Converſation and Advice, and the
Opportunity of purſuing my Studies. For be-
ing born to no Fortune, I was, at his Death, as
much
* After Mr. Swift left the Univerſity of Dublin, Sir W'illiam
(whoſe Father, Sir John Temple, Maſter of the Rolls in Ireland,
ħad been a Friend to the Family) invited our young Author to
fpend ſome Time with him at illoor-park in England, for Sake of
his Converſation; where he purſued his Studies through all the
Greek and Roman Hiſtorians. Here it was he was introduced by
his Friend to King William; when his Majeſty uſed to pay free
quent Vifits to that great Miniſter, after he had retired from pub-
lick Buſineſs to his Seat at Moor-parit.
Dr. SWIFT.
375
much to ſeek it as ever : And, perhaps, you will
allow, that I was of ſome Uſe to him. This
I will venture to ſay, that in the Time, when
I had foune little Credit, I did fifty times more
for fifty People, from whom I never received
the leaſt Service or Aſſiſtance; yet I ſhould not
be pleaſed to hear a Relation of mine reproach-
ing them with Ingratitude; although many of
them well deſerve it. For, Thanks to Party,
I have met in both Kingdoms with Ingratitude
enough.
If I have been ill-informed, you have not
been much better, that I declared no Regard to
your Family; for ſo you expreſs your ſelf: I
never had Occaſion or Opportunity to make uſe
of
any
ſuch Words. The laſt Time I ſaw you
in London was the laſt Intercourſe that I remem-
ber to have had with your Family. But having
always truſted to my own Innocence, I was
never inquiſitive to know my Accuſers. When
I mentioned my Loſs of Intereſt with
you,
I
did it with Concern: And I had no Refent-
ment; becauſe I ſuppoſed it to ariſe only from
different Sentiments in publick Matters.
My Lord, if my Letter were polite, it was
againſt my Intention, and I intreat your Par-
don for it. If I have Wit, I will keep it to
Thew when I am angry; which at preſent I am
not: Becauſe, although nothing can excuſe
thoſe intemperate Words your Pen hath let fall,
yet I ſhall give Allowance to a haſty Perſon
hurried on hy a Miſtake beyond all Rules of
Decency.
376
LETTERS to and from
Decency. If a Firſt Miniſter of State had uſed
me as you have done, he ſhould have heard
from me in another Style ; becauſe in that Cafe
petaliating would be thought a Mark of Cou-
rage. But as your Lordſhip is not in a Situati-
on to do me Good, nor, I am ſure, of a Diſpo-
ſition to do me Miſchief; fo I ſhould loſe the
Merit of being Bold, becauſe I incurred no
Danger. In this point alone we are exactly
equal : But in Wit and Politeneſs, I am as ready
to yield to you, as in Titles and Eſtate.
I have found out one Secret ; that although
you call me a great Wit, you do not think me
ſo; otherwiſe you would have been cautious to
have writ me ſuch a Letter.
You conclude with faying, you are ready to
aſk Pardon where you have offended.
have offended. Of this
I acquit you, becauſe I have not taken the
Offence; but whether you will acquit your ſelf,
muſt be left to your Conſcience and Honour.
I have formerly upon Occaſions been your
humble Servant in Ireland ; and ſhould not re-
foſe to be ſo ſtill, but you have ſo uſeful and
excellent a Friend in Mr. Reading, that you
need no other; and I hope my good Opinion
of him will not leſſen yours. I am,
My Lord,
Your moſt humble Servant,
JONATH. SWIFT
Dr. SWIFT.
377
Dr. SWIFT to Mrs. * MOORE.
A
i
Dear Madam,
LTHOUGH I ſee you feldomer than is
agreeable to my Inclinations, yet you
have no Friend in the World that is more con-
cerned for any Thing that can affect your
Mind, your Health, or your Fortune; I have
always had the higheſt Efteem for your Virtue,
the greateſt Value for your Converſation, and
the trueſt Affection for your Perſon; and there-
fore cannot but heartily condole with you, for
the Loſs of ſo amiable, and (what is more) ſo
favourite a Child. Theſe are the neceffary Con-
ſequences of too ſtrong Attachments, by which
we are grieving our felves with the Death of
thoſe we love, as we muſt one Day grieve thoſe
who love us, with the Death of our felves.
For Life is a Tragedy, wherein we ſit as Spec-
tators a while, and then act our own Part in
it. Self-love, as it is the Motive to all our Acti-
ons, ſo it is the ſole Cauſe of our Grief.
The dear Perſon you lament is by no Means an
Object of Pity, either in a moral or religious
Senſe,
* A Daughter of Lord Chancellor Porter, firſt married to
Deveniſi, Eſq; and afterwards to the Rev. Dr. Moore, one of
the Canons of St. Patrick's, and Vicar of St, Katherine's, Dub-
lis. He was Son of the Earl of Drogheda.
378
LETTERS to and froin
er ;
Senſe. Philoſophy always taught Men to de-
ſpiſe Life, as a moſt contemptible Thing in
it ſelf, and Religion regards it only as a Pre-
paration for a better ; which you are taught to
be certain, that ſo innocent a Perſon is now in
Poffeffion of; fo that ſhe is an immenſe Gain-
and you, and her Friends, the only Loſers.
Now, under Misfortunes of this kind, I know
no Conſolation more effectual to a reaſonable
Perſon, than to reflect rather upon what is
left, than what is loſt. She was neither an on-
ly Child, nor an only Daughter. You have
three Children left, * one of them of an Age
to be uſeful to his Family, and the two others
as promiſing as can be expected from their Age;
ſo that, according to the general Diſpenſations
of God Almighty, you have ſmall Reaſon to
repine upon that Article of Life. And, Reli-
gion will tell
you,
that the true Ways to preſerve
them is, not to fix any of them too deep in
your Heart; which is a Weakneſs that God
ſeldom leaveth long unpuniſhed : Common Ob-
ſervation ſhewing us, that ſuch favourite Child-
ren are either ſpoiled by their Parent's Indol-
gence, or ſoon taken out of the World; which
laſt is, generally ſpeaking, the lighter Puniſh-
ment of the two.
God, in his Wiſdom, hath been pleaſed to
load our declining Years with many Sufferings,
with Diſeaſes, and Decays of Nature, with the
Death
* Charles Deveniſh, Esq;
Dr. SWIFT.
379
Death of many Friends, and the Ingratitude
of more : Sometimes with the Loſs or Dimi-
nution of our Fortunes, when our Infirmities
moſt need them; often with Contempt from
the World, and always with Negleêt from it;
with the Death of our moſt hopeful or uſeful
Children ; with a want of Reliſh for all world-
ly Enjoyments; with a general Dilike of Per-
ſons and Things: And although all theſe are
very natural Effects of encreaſing 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 Uſe you are to make, in Pru-
dence as well as in Conſcience, of all the Afflict-
ions you have hitherto undergone, as well as
of thoſe which, in the Courſe of Nature and
Providence, you have Reaſon to expect. May
God, who hath endowed you with ſo many
Virtues, add Strength of Mind and Reliance
upon
his Mercy, in proportion to your preſent
Sufferings, as well as thoſe he may think fit to
try you with through the Remainder of your
Life.
I fear my preſent ill Diſpoſition, both of
Health and Mind, hath made me but a ſorry
Comforter : However, it will ſhew, that no
Circumſtance of Life can put you out of my
Mind, and that I am with the trueſt Reſpect,
Eſteem, and Friendſhip,
Dear Madam, Your moſt obedient,
Moſt humble Servant,
Deanry Home,
Dec. 7, 1727
JONATH, SWIFT
380
LETTERS to and front
From Mr. POPE to Dr. SHERIDAN.
I
SIR,
I
Thank you kindly for your News of the
Dean of St. Patrick's, for your Perſius, for
every Thing in your Letter. I will uſe
my
warmeſt Endeavours to ſerve * Dr. Whalley.
Beſides his own Merit, the Demerit of his An-
tagoniſt goes into the Scale, and the Dean tells
me he is a Coadjutant of that Fool, t Smedley.
You muſt have ſeen, but you cannot have read,
what he has lately publiſhed againſt our Friend
and me. The only Pleaſure a bad Writer can
give me, he has given, that of being abufed
Betters and my Friends. I am much
pleaſed with most of the Intelligencers, but I
am a little piqued at the Author of them, for
not once doing me the Honour of a Mention
upon ſo honourable an Occaſion as being ſan-
dered by the Dunces, together with my Friend
the Dean, who is properly the Author of the
Dunciad: It had never been writ but at his
Requeſt, and for his Deafneſs: For had he
been able to converſe with me, do you think I
had amuſed my Time ſo ill? I will not trouble
you with Amendments to ſo imperfect an E-
dition
with my
1
* An eminent Clergyman in the Dioceſs of Armagh.
+ Dean of Fernes.
Dr. SWIFT.
381
dition as is now publiſhed; you will ſoon ſee
a better, with a full and true Commentary,
ſetting all Miſtakes right, and branding none
but our own Cattle. Some very good Epigrams
on the Gentlemen of the Dunciad have been
ſent me from Oxford, and others of the London
Authors; if I had an Amanuenſis (which is a
Thing neither I, nor my common Trifles are
worth) you ſhould have them with this. If
your Univerſity or Town have produced any on
this Subject, pray ſend them me, or keep them
at leaſt together, for another Day they may all
meet.
I have writ to the Dean juſt now by Mr.
Elrington, who charges himſelf with this, and
have inſerted a Hint or two of his libelling the
Lady of the Family; in as innocent a manner,
as he does it, he will hardly ſuſpect I had any
Information of it.
Although I am a very ill Correſpondent, I
Thall at all Times be glad to have the Favour of
a Line from you. My Eyeſight is bad, my
Head often in Pain, my Time ſtrangely taken
up. Were I my own Maſter (which I thank
GOD I yet am, in all Points but one, where
Humanity only conſtrains me) I wouldinfallibly
fee Ireland before I die. But whether that, or
many other of my little, although warm,
De.
ſigns will ever take Effect,
Caliginoſa nocte premit Deus!
VOL. VIII.
Ff
I am
382
LETTERS to and from
I am (wherever I am) the Dean's, and the
Dean's Friends, and conſequently faithfully,
SIR,
Your affectionate Servant,
A. Pope.
From Mr. Pope to Dr. SHERIDAN.
14
ter.
SIR,
AM both obliged and alarmed by your Let-
What you mention of a particular
Friend of the Dean's being 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 ſame Time I fear he is
not in a Condition to make the Journey. Al-
though (to eaſe you as far as I can) his Phyſi-
cian and Friend Dr. Arbuthnot affures me he
will ſoon be well. At preſent he is very deaf,
and more uneaſy 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 Reaſon for.
He talks of returning to Ireland in three Weeks,
if he recovers ſufficiently; if not, he will ſtay
here this Winter. Upon Pretence of ſome ve
ry
Dr. SWIFT.
383
гу
unavoidable Occaſions, he went to London
four Days ſince, where I ſee him as often as he
will let me.
I was extreamly concerned at his
Opiniatrety in leaving me; but he ſhall not get
rid of the Friend, although he may of his
Houſe. I have ſuggeſted to him the Remedy
you mention: And I will not leave him a Day,
until I ſee him better. I wiſh you could ſee
us in England without manifeſt Inconvenience
to yourſelf; although I heardily hope and be-
lieve, that our Friend will do well. I fincere-
ly honour you for your Warmth of Affection
where it is fojuitly merited; and am, both for
his Sake and your own, with great Eſteem,
SIR,
Your truly-affectionate
and obedient Servant,
Twickenham,
Sept. 6.
A. POPE.
your Let-
P.S. I have often deſired the Dean to make
known to you my Senſe of the good Opi-
nion
you
have expreit of me in
ters. I am pleaſed to have an Opportuni-
ty of thanking you under my Hand, and
I deſire you to continue it to one who is
no Way ungrateful.
Ff 2
From
384
LETTERS to and from
From Dr. SWIFT to Dr. * SHERIDAN.
II
SIR,
Dec. 14, 1719, 9 at Nigth,
T is impoſſible to know by your Letter whe .
ther the Wine is to be bottled To-morrow,
Or 10.
For my part, it was by meer Chance I came
to fit with the Ladies this Night.
And, if they had not told me there was a
Letter from you, and your Man Alexander had
not gone, and come back from the Deanry, and
the Boy here had not been ſent to let Alexan-
der know I was here, I ſhould have miſſed the
Letter outright.
Truly
* Dr. Sheridan was an eininent School-maſter, whom the Dean
is ſuppoſed thus to deſcribe under the Character of Lilly.
Lilly is a Perſon very excellent in his Art; perfectly ſkilled in
the Writings and Languages of ancient Greece and Rome. He hath
much Invention; often writes humorous Verſes that are divert-
ing enough, but is defective in Judgment. He is honeſt, gene-
rous, friendly, and good-natured, but without one Grain of Di-
ſcretion : And, with all, ſo heedleſs, unattentive, ſhattered and
abſent, that you cannot depend a Minute on his Promiſe or En-
gagernent. He is foinewhat too careleſs in Expences. How
fubjcct he was to be deceived, appears from the following Certi
ficate under the Doctor's own Hand, dated O EX. 22, 1731.
Dr. Sheridan, forced to promiſe and allowed, that he hath been
thirty Times deceived in affirming his Servants and Agents to be ho-
neft; does now, the one and thirtieth Time, poſitively allert, that
his preſent Agent at Quilca, Wooly by Name, is the moſt honeſt,
diligent, and ſkilful Fellow in Ireland.
Signed as Dr. Grattan's Houſe.
THOMAS SHERIDAN,
Dr. SWIFT.
385
Truly I don't know who's bound to be ſend-
ing for Corks to ſtop your Bottles, with a Ven-
geance.
Make a Page of your own Age, and ſend
your Man Alexander to buy Corks, for Saun-
ders already hath got above ten Jaunts.
Mrs. Dingley and Mrs. Johnſon fay, truly
they don't care for your Wife's Company, al-
though they like your Wine; but they had ra-
ther have it at their own Houſe, to drink in
quiet.
However, they own it is very civil in Mr.
Sheridan, to make the Offer ; and they cannot
deny it.
I wiſh Alexander ſafe at St. Catherine's To-
night, with all my Heart and Soul, upon my
Word and Honour.
But I think it baſe in you to ſend a poor
Fellow out ſo late at this Time of Year, when
one would not turn out a Dog that one valued;
I appeal to your Friend Mr. Conna.
I would preſent my humble Service to my
Lady Mountcaſhell: but, truly, I thought the
would have made Advances to have been ac-
quainted with me, as ſhe pretended.
But now I can write no more, for
you
fee
plainly my Paper is ended,
P.S. I wiſh when you prated,
Your Letter you'd dated,
Much Plague it created,
I ſcolded and rated
My
386
LETTERS to and from
My Soul it much grated,
For
your Man, I long waited.
I think you are fated,
Like a Bear to be baited :
Your Man is belated,
The Caſe, I have ſtated,
And me you have cheated.
My Stable's unſlated,
Come back t'us well freighted;
I remember
пту
late-head
And wiſh you Tranſlated,
For teazing me.
2 P.S. Mrs. Dingley
Dejres me fingly
Her Service to preſent you,
Hopes that will content you ;
But Johnſon Madam
Is grown a Sad Dame,
For want of your Converſe,
And cannot ſend one Verſe.
[VIDA,
[Rule 34
3 P.S. You keep fuch a twattling
With you and your bottling,
But I ſee the Sum Total,
We ſhall ne'er have one Bottle ;
The long and the ſhort,
We ſhall not have a Quart.
I will
Dr. SWIFT.
387
I wiſh you would fign't,
That we may have a Pint.
For all your colloguing,
Pd be glad of a Knogging :
But I doubt 'tis a Sham,
You won't give us a Dram,
'Tis of Shine, a Mouth Moon-full,
You won't part with a Spoon-full,
And I muſt be nimble,
If I can fill my Thimble,
You ſee I won't ſtop
Till I come to a Drop;
But I doubt the Oracalum,
Is a poor Supernaculum ;
Tho' perhaps you may tell it
For a Grace, if we ſmell it. STELLA
>
To the fame.
WHA
Dub. Dec. 22, 1722.
HAT care we whether you ſwim or
fink? Is this a Time to talk of Boats,
or a Time to fail in them, whar'i am fhud-
dering? or a Time to build Boat-houſes, or
pay for Carriage ? No; but towards Summer,
I promiſe hereby under my Hand to ſubſcribe
a (Guinea *)Shilling for one; or,
if
you pleaſe
me
* The Word Guinta is ftruck thro' with a Pen in the Copy.
388
LETTERS to and from
me, what is blotted out, or ſomething there-
abouts, and the Ladies ſhall ſubſcribe three
*Thirteens betwixt them, and Mrs.Brent a Pen-
ny, and Robert and Archy Half-pence a-piece,
and the Old Man and Woman a Farthing each:
In ſhort, I will be your Collector, and we will
ſend it down fill of Wine, a Fortnight before
we ca ai Whitſuntide. You will make eight
thouſand Blunders in your Planting; and who
can help it? for I could not be with you. My
Horſes eat Hay, and I hold my Viſitati-
on on January 7. juſt in the midſt of Chriſt-
mas. Mrs. Brent is angry, and ſweareth as much
as a Fanatick can do, that ſhe will fubſcribe
Sixpence to your Boat. Well, I ſhall be a
Country-man when you are not; we are now
at Mr. Fad's, with Dan and Sam; and I ſteal
out, while they are at Cards, like a Lover
writing to his Miſtreſs. We have no News
in our Town. The Ladies have left us To-
day, and I promiſed them that you
you would carry
your Club to Arſellagh, when you are weary of
one another. You expreſs your Happineſs with
Grief in one Hand and Sorrow in the other.
What Fowl have you but the Weep? what
Hares, but Mrs. Macfeden's gray Hairs? What
Peaſe bur your own ? Your Mutton and your
Weather are both very bad, and ſo is your Wea-
ther-Mutton. Wild-Fowl is what we like.
How will this Letter get to you?
A
Fortnight good from this Morning. You will
find + Quilca not the Thing it was laſt Auguſt;
no-
An Englib Shilling pafſeth for Thirteen Pence in Ireland.
Dr. Sheridan's Seat in the County of Cavan.
Dr. SWIFT.
389
nobody to reliſh the Lake ; nobody to ride over
the Downs; no Trout to be caught; no dine-
ing over a Well; no Night Heroics, no Morn-
ing Epics; no ſtolen Hour when the Wife is
gone ; no Creature to call you Names. Poor
miſerable Maſter Sheridan! No blind Harpers!
no Journies to Rantavan !----Anſwer all this,
and be my magnus Apollo. We have new Plays
and new Libels, and nothing valuable is old
but Stella, whoſe Bones The recommends to you.
* Dan delireth to know whether you ſaw the
Advertiſement of your being robbed and
ſo I conclude,
Yours, &c.
NO
To the fame.
Clonfert, Aug. 3, 1723.
O, I cannot poſſibly be with you
fo foon,
there are too many Rivers, Bogs, and
Mountains between; beſides, when I leave
this, I Thall make one or two ſhort Viſits in
my
way to Dublin, and hope to be in Town by the
End of this Month; although it will be a bad
Time, in the Hurry of your buſy Pt.
Your Dream is wrong, for this Biſhop is not a-
ble to lift a Cat upon my Shoulders; but, if
you are for a Curacy of Twenty-five Pounds a
Year, and ride five Miles every Sunday to preach
to fix Beggars, have at you: And yet this is no
ill Country, and the FBiſhop hath inade, in four
Months,
* The Rev. Mr. Daniel Jackſon, Vicar of Ballyboy in the King's
County.
† Dr. Theophilus' Bolton, then Biſhop of Clenfert, who with
great Pains and Expence made a Road through a deep Red Bog
from Clonfert to the Shannon Side.
390
LETTERS to and from
Months, twelve Miles of Ditches from his
Houſe to the Shannon. If you talk of improve-
ing, how are you this Moment? Do you love
or hate Quilca the moſt of all Places ? Are you
in or out of Humour with the World, your
Friends, your Wife, and your School ? Are
the Ladies in Town or in the Country? If I
knew I would write to them, and how are
they in Health? Quilca (let me ſee) (you fee I
can (if I pleaſe) make Parentheſes as well as
Others) is about a hundred Miles from Clonfert;
and I am half weary with the four hundred I
have rode. With Love and Service, and ſo a-
dieu.
Yours, &c.
To the ſame.
Jan. 25, 1725.
Have a Packet of Letters, which I intended
to ſend by Molly, who hath been ſtopt three
Days by the bad Weather; but now I will ſend
them by Poft To-morrow, to Kells, and in-
cloſed to Mr. * Tickell there is one to you, and
one to James Stopfort:
I can do no Work in this terrible Weather
which hath put us all ſeventy times out of Pa-
tience. I have been deaf nine Days, and
am now pretty well recovered again.
Pray deſire Mr. * Stanton and Mr. of Worral
;
Thomas Tickell, Eſq; a very ingenious Poet, Secretary to the
Lords Juſtices of Ireland.
+ Dr. Stanton, a Maſter in Chancery.
Rev. Ms. John Worral, the Dean's Vicar,
Dr. SWIFT.
391
to continue giving themſelves fome Trouble with
Mr. Prat , but let it ſucceed or not, I hope I
ſhall be eaſy.
Mrs. Johnſon ſwears it will rain till Micha-
elmas. She is ſo pleaſed with her Pick-ax, that
The wears it faſtened to her Girdle on her left
Side, in Balance with her Watch. The Lake
is ſtrangely overflown, and we are deſperate a-
bout Turf, being forced to buy it three Miles
off: And Mrs. Johnſon (God help her) giveth
you many a Curſe. Your Maſon is come, but
cannot yet work about your
Garden. Neither
can I agree with him about the great Wall.
For the reſt, vide the Letter that you
will have
on Monday, if Mr. Tickell uſeth you well.
The News of this Country is, that the Maid
you ſent down, John Farelly’s Siſter, is married;
but the Portion and Settlement are yet a Secret.
The Cows here never give Milk on Midſummer-
Eve.
You would wonder what carking and caring
there is among us for ſmall Beer, and lean Mut-
ton, and ſtarved Lamb, and ſtopping Gaps, and
driving Cattle from the Corn. In that we are
all-to-be-Dinglyed.
The Lady's Room ſinoaks; the Rain dropeth
from the Skies into the Kitchen ; our Servants
eat and drink like the Devil, and
pray
which entertains them at Cards and Sleep;
which are much lighter than Spades, Sledges,
and Crows. Their Maxim is,
for Rain,
Eat
392 LETTERS to and from
Eat like a Turk,
Sleep like a Dormouſe ;
Be laſt at Work,
At Viktuals foremoſt.
Which is all at preſent, hoping you
and
your
good family are well, as we, &c. are all at
this preſent Writing, &c.
Robin has juſt carried out a Load of Bread
and cold Meat for Breakfaſt; this is their way;
but now a Cloud hangeth over them, for fear it
ſhould hold up, and the Clouds blow off.
I write on till Molly cometh in for the Letter.
0, what a Draggle-Tail will ſhe be before the
gets to Dublin! I wiſh ſhe may not happen to
fall upon her Back by the Way.
I affirm againſt Ariſtotle, that Cold and
Rain congregate Homogenes, for they gather
together you
your Crew, at Whiſt, Punch,
and Claret. Happy Weather for Mrs. Mau,
Betty and Stopforts, and all true Lovers of
Cards and Lazineſs.
you and
The Bleſſings of a Country Life,
Far from our Debtors,
No Dublin Letters,
Not ſeen by our Betters.
The Plagues of a Country Life.
A Companion with Newm
A great want of Shoes;
Eat
Dr. SWIFT.
393
Eat lean Meat, or chuſe,
A Church without Pews.
Our Horſes aſtray,
No Straw, Oats, or Hay;
December in May.
Our Boys run away,
All Servants at play,
Molly ſends for the Letter,
1
To the ſame.
Y Y
Quilca, June, 28. 1725.
OU run out of your time fo merrily,
that you are forced to anticipate it; like
a young Heir that ſpends his Fortune faſter
than it comes in; for your Letter is dated To-
morrow, June 29. and God knows when
it was writ, or what Saturday you mean; but
I ſuppoſe it is the next, and therefore your own
Mare and Dr. S- Horſe or Mare, or ſome
other Horſe or Mare, with your own Mare
aforeſaid, ſhall fet out on Wedneſday next,
which will be June 30. and ſo they will have
two Nights Reſt, if you begin your Journey
on Saturday. You are an unlucky Devil to
get a Living the furtheſt in the * Kingdom from
Quilca. If it be worth two hundred Pound a
Year,
:
# In the County of Cork.
394
LETTERS to and from
go in
Year, my Lord Lieutenant hath but barely
kept his Word, for the other Fifty muſt
a Curate and Viſitation Charges, and Poxes,
Proxies I mean. If you are under the Biſhop
of Cork, he is a capricious Gentleman; but you
muſt flatter him monſtrouſly upon his Learning
and his Writings; that you have read his Book
againſt Toland a hundred Times, and his Ser-
mons (if he hath printed any) have been always
your Model, &c. Be not diſappointed if your
Living doth not anſwer the Sum: Get Letters
of Recommendation to the Biſhop and princi-
pal Clergy, and to your Neighbouring Parſon
or Parſons particularly. I often adviſed you to
get ſome Knowledge of Tythes and Church-
livings. You muſt learn the Extent of
your
Pariſh, the general Quantity of Arable Land
and Paſture in your Parish, the common Rate
of Tythes for an Acre of the ſeveral Sorts of
Corn, and of Fleeces and Lambs, and to ſee
whether you have any Glebe ; pray act like a
Man of this world. I doubt being ſo far off,
you muſt not let your Living as I do, to the
ſeveral Farmers, but to one Man : But by all
means do not now let it for more than one
Year, until you are ſurely apprized of the real
Worth;
and even then never let it for above
three. Pray take my Advice for once, and be
very buſy while you are there. It is one good
Circumſtance that you got ſuch a Living in a
convenient Time, and juſt when Tythes are fit
to be let; only Wool and Lambs are due in
Spring,
ز
Dr. SWIFT.
39 5
very uſeful
Spring, or perhaps belong to the late Incum-
bent. You may learn all on the Spot, and
your Neighbouring Parſons may be
if they pleaſe, but do not let them be your
Tenants : Adviſe with Archdeacon Wall, but
do not follow him in all Things. Take care
of the principal 'Squire or 'Squires, they will
all tell you the worſt of your Living ; ſo will
the Proctors and Tythe-Jobbers ; but you will
pick out Truth from among them. Pray Thew
yourſelf a Man of Abilities. After all I am
but a weak Brother myſelf; perhaps ſome
Clergy in Dublin, who know that Country,
will further inform you. Mr. Townſend of
Cork will do you any good Offices on my Ac-
any
Letter.-- Take the Oaths
heartily to the Powers that be, and remember
that Party was not made for depending Puppies.
I forgot one principal Tisti, to take care of
going regularly thro' all the Forms of Oaths
and Inductions, for the leaſt wrong Step will
put you to the Trouble of repaſſing your Pa-
tent, or voiding your Living. -
count, without
To the fame.
Quilca, June, 29. 1725.
Writ to you yeſterday, and ſaid as many
Things as I could then think on, and gave
it a Boy of Kells who brought me yours. It is
ſtrange
I
396
LETTERS to anit fronti
ſtrange that I and Stella and Mrs. Macfadin,
ſhould light on the faine Thought, to adviſe
you to make a great Appearance of Temperance
while you are abroad. But Mrs. Johnſon and
I go further, and ſay, you muſt needs obſerve
all grave Forms, for the want of which both
you and I have ſuffered. On ſuppoſal that
you
are under the * Biſhop of Cork, I ſend you a
Letter inclos'd to him, which I deſire you will
feal. Mrs. Johnſon put me in mind to caution
you not to drink or pledge any Health in his
Company, for you know his op weak fide in
that Matter. I hope, Mr. Tickel hath not com-
plimented you with what Fees are due to him
for your Patent; I wiſh you would ſay to him
(if he refuſes them) that I told you it was Mr,
Addiſon's Maxim to excuſe nobody; for here,
ſays he, I may have forty Friends, whoſe Fees
may be Two Guineas a Piece; then I loſe
Eighty Guineas, and my Friends fave but Two
a Piece
I muſt tell you, Dan Jackſon ruined his
Living by hudling over the firſt Year, and then
hoping to mend it the next: Therefore
pray
take all the Care you can to enquire into the
Value, and ſet it at the beſt Rate to ſubſtantial
People.
I know
* The celebrated Dr. Peter Brown, formerly Provoſt of the
Univerſity of Dublin.
+ He wrote a Pamphlet againſt Drinking to the Memory of
the Dead.
1
>
Dr. SWIFT.
397
I know not whether you are under the
Bifhop of Cork, or no; if not, you may burn
the Letter.
I muſt deſire that you will not think of en-
larging your Expences, no not for ſome Years
to come, much leſs at preſent; but rather re-
trench them. You might have lain deſolate
till Antichriſt carne, for
any thing you could
have got from thoſe you uſed to treat; neither
let me hear of one Rag of better Cloaths for
your Wife or Brats, but rather plainer than ever,
This is poſitively * Stella's Advice as well as
mine. She ſays, now you need not be aſhamed
to be thought poor.
We compute you cannot be leſs than thirty
Days abſent; and pray do not employ your
Time in lolling a Bed until Noon to read Homer,
but mind your Buſineſs effectually; and we
think you ought to have no Breaking-up this
Auguft; but affect to adhere to your School
cloſer than ever ; becauſe you will find that
your Ill-willers will give out, you are now
going to quit your School, fince you have got
Preferment, &c.
Pray ſend me a large Bundle of Exerciſes,
good as well as bad, for I want ſomething to
read.
I would have you carry down three or four
Serinons, and preach every Sunday at your own
Church, and be very devout.
VOL. VIII.
I fent
Gg
* Mrs. Johnſon
398
LETTERS to and from
I ſent
you
in my laſt, a Bill of Twenty
Pound on Mr. Worral, I hope you have re-
ceived it.
Pray remember to leave the Pamphlet with
Worral, and gave him Directions, unleſs you
have ſettled it already ſome other way. You
know it muſt come out juſt when the Parlia-
ment meets.
Keep theſe Letters where I adviſe
you
about
your Living, till you have taken Advice.
Keep very regular Hours for the ſake of your
Health and Credit; and wherever you lie a
Night within twenty Miles of your Livings,
beſure call the Family that Evening to Prayers.
I deſire you will wet no Commiſſion with
your old Crew, nor with any but thoſe who
befriend you, as Mr. Tickel, &c.
T
To the fame.
Quilca, Sept. 11, 1725.
F you are indeed a diſcarded Courtier, you
have reaſon to complain, but none at all to
wonder; you are too young for many Experi-
ences to fall in your way, yet you have read
enough to make you know the Nature of Man.
It is fafer for a Man's Intereſt to blaſpheme
God than to be of a Party out of Power, or
even to be thought ſo. And ſince the laſt was
the Caſe, how could you imagine that all
Mouths would not be open, when you were
received,
Dr. SWIFT.
399
received, and in ſome manner preferred by the
Government, altho’ in a poor Way? I tell you
there is hardly a Whig in Ireland, who would
allow a Potato and Butter-milk to a reputed
Tory. Neither is there any thing in your
Countrynien, upon this Article, more than what
is common in all other Nations, only quoad
magis & minus. Too much Advertency is not
your Talent, or elſe you had fled from that
* Text as from a Rock. For as Don Quixot ſaid
to Sancho, what Buſineſs had you to ſpeak of
a Halter, in a Family where one of it was
hanged? And your Innocence is a Protection
that wiſe Men are aſhamed to rely on, further
than with God. It is indeed againſt Common
Senſe to think that you ſhould chuſe ſuch a
Time, when you had received a Favour from
the Lord Lieutenant, and had reaſon to expect
more, to diſcover your Dilloyalty in the Pulpit.
But what will that avail? Therefore ſit down
and be quiet, and mind your Buſineſs, as you
do, and contract your Friendihips, and expect
no more from Man than ſuch an Animal is
capable of, and you will every day find my
Deſcription of Yebooes more reſembling. You
ſhould think and deal with every Man as a
Villain, without calling him ſo, or flying from
him, or valuing him leſs. This is an old true
Gg 2
Leffon
* Dr. Sheridan prcached a Sermon the Firſt Day of Auguſt
,
which was the Anniverſary of the Acceſſion of King George 1. to
the Crown, from theſe Words, Sufficient unto the Day is th: Evil
thereof. MATT. vi.
V. 34.
400
LETTERS to and from
Leſſon. You believe every one will acquit you
of
any Regard to temporal Intereſt; and how
came you to claim an Exception from all Man-
kind ? I believe you value your temporal Inte-
reſt as much as any body, but you have not
the Arts of purſuing it. You are miſtaken.
Domeſtick Evils are no more within a Man
than others; and he, who cannot bear up againſt
the firſt, will fink under the ſecond, and in my
Conſcience I believe this is your Caſe; for be-
ing of a weak Conſtitution, in an Employment
precarious and tireſome, loaden with Children,
cum uxore neque leni neque commoda, a Man of
intent and abſtracted Thinking, enſlav'd by
Mathematicks, and Complaint of the World,
this new Weight of Party Malice hath ſtruck
you down, like a Feather on a Horſe's Back
already loaden as far as he is able to bear.
You ought to change the Apoſtle's Expreſſion,
and ſay, I will ſtrive to learn in whatever
State, &c.
I will bear none of your Viſions ; you ſhall
live at Quilca but three Fortnights and a Month
in the Year; perhaps not ſo much. You ſhall
make no Entertainments but what are neceſſary
to your Intereſts; for your true Friends would
rather ſee you over a Piece of Mutton and a
Bottle once a Quarter ; you ſhall be merry at
the Expence of others; you Thall take care of
your Health, and go early to bed, and not
read late at Night; and laugh with all Men,
without truſting any, and then a Fig for the
Contrivers
Dr. SWIFT.
401
Contrivers of your Ruin, who now have no
further Thoughts than to ſtop your Progreſs,
which perhaps they may not compaſs, unleſs I
am deceiv'd more than uſual. All this
All this you will
do fi mihi credis, and not dream of printing
your Sermon, which is a Project abounding
with Objections unanſwerable, and with which
I could fill this Letter. You ſay nothing of
having preached before the Lord Lieutenant,
nor whether he is altered towards you ; for you
ſpeak nothing but generals. You think all
the World hath now nothing to do but to pull
Mr. Sheridan down, whereas it is nothing but
a Slap in your turn, and away. Lord Oxford
faid once to me, on an occaſion: Theſe Fools,
becauſe they hear a Noiſe about their Ears of
their own making, think the whole World is
full of it. When I come to Town we will
change all this Scene, and act like Men of the
World. Grow rich, and you will have no
Enemies. Go fometimes to the Caſtle, keep
faſt Mr. Tickel and * Balaguer ; frequent thoſe
on the right Side, Friends to the preſent Pow-
ers; drop thoſe who are loud on the wrong
Party, becauſe they know they can ſuffer no-
thing by it.
Gg3
To
* Private Secretary to his Excellency the Lord Carteret, Lord
Lieutenant of Ireland.
402
LETTERS to and from
To the ſame.
W
Quilca, Sept. 19, 1725.
E have prevailed with Neal, in ſpight
of his Harvett, to carry up Miſs
with your Directions; and it is high time, for
ſhe was run almoſt wild, though we have ſome-
thing civilized her ſince ſhe came among us.
You are too ſhort in Circumſtances. I did not
hear
you was forbid preaching. Have you
feen
my Lord? Who forbid you to preach ? Are
you no longer Chaplain? Do you never go to
the Caſtle? Are you certain of the Accuſer,
that it is T-? Do you think my Lord acts
thus becauſe he feareth it would breed ill Hu-
mour if he ſhould openly favour one who is
looked on as of a different Party ? I think that
is too mean for him. I do not diſapprove your
Letter, but I think it a wrong Method; pray
read over the incloſed twice, and if
you do not
diſlike it, let it be ſent (not by a Servant of
yours, nor from you) to Mr. Tickell. There
the Cafe is ſtated as well as I could do it in
Generals, for want of knowing Particulars.
When I come to Town I ſhall ſee the Lord
Lieutenant, and be as free with him as pof-
fible. In the mean time, I believe it may
keep cold; however, adviſe with Mr. Tickell
and Mr. Balaguer, I hould fancy, that the
Biſhop
Dr. SWIFT.
403
Biſhop of * Limerick could eaſily ſatisfy his Ex-
cellency, and that my Lord Lieutenant believeth
no more of your Guilt than I, and therefore it
can be nothing but to ſatisfy the Noiſe of Party
at this Juncture, that he acteth as he doth;
and if ſo (as I am confident it is) the Effect
wili ceaſe with the Cauſe. But without doubt,
T--- and others have dinned the Words Tory
and Jacobite into his Excellency's Ears, and
therefore
your Text, &c. was only made uſe
of as an Opportunity.
Upon the whole Matter you are no Loſer,
but at leaſt have got ſomething. Therefore
be not like him who hanged himſelf, becauſe
going into a Gaming-Houſe and winning Ten
thouſand Pounds, he loft Five thouſand of it,
and came away with only half his Winnings.
When my Lord is in London, we may clear a
Way to him to do you another Job, and you
are young enough to wait.
We ſet out to Dublin on Monday the 5th of
Oftober, and hope to ſup at the Deanry the
next Night, where you will come to us, if you
are not already engaged.
I am grown a bad Bailiff towards the End of
my Service. Your Hay is well brought in, and
better ſtacked than uſual. All here are well.
I know not what you mean by my having
ſome Sport ſoon, I hope it is no Sport that will
vex me.
Pray
G g 4
* Dr. Burſcough.
404
LETTERS to and from
Pray do not forget to ſeal the incloſed before
you ſend it.
you back
I ſend
Lieutenant.
your Letter to the Lord
To the ſame.
Y ,
Quilca, Sept. 25, 1725.
OUR Confuſion hindered you from giving
your
Diſtreſs,
until this laſt Letter, and therein you are imper-
fect enough. However, with much ado, we
have now a tolerable Underſtanding how Things
ſtand. We had a Paper ſent incloſed, ſub-
ſcribed by Mr. Ford, as we ſuppoſe; it is in
Print, and we all approve it, and this I ſup-
poſe is the Sport I was to expect. I do think
it agreed that All Animals fight with the Wea-
pons natural to them, (which is a new and
wiſe Remark out of my own Head) and the
Devil take that Animal who will not offend
his Eneny, when he is provoked, with his
proper Weapon ; and although your old dull
Horſe little values the Blows I give him with
the Butt-end of my Stick, yet I ſtrike on and
make him wince in ſpight of his Dulneſs; and
he ſhall not fail of them while I am here; and
I hope you will do ſo too to the Beaſt who hath
kicked againſt you, and try how far his Inſenſi-
bility will protect him, and you thall have
Help
Dr. SWIFT:
405
Thank you
Help, and he will be vexed, for fo I found
your Horſe this Day, although he would not
move the faſter. I will kill that Flea or
Louſe which biteth me, although I get no Ho-
nour by it.
Laudari ab iis quos omnes laudant, is a Maxim,
and the contrary is equally true.
for the Offer of your Mare, and how a Pox
could we come without her ? They pulled off
her's and your Horſe's Shoes for fear of being
rode, and then they rode them without Shoes,
and ſo I was forced to ſhoe them again. All
the Fellows here would be I-'s if they were
but Privy-Counſellors. You will never be at
eaſe for your Friend's Horſes or your own, till
you have walled in a Park of twenty Acres,
which I would have done next Spring.
You ſay not a Word of the Letter i ſent
you
for Mr. Tickell, whether you ſent it him or
no; and yet it was very material that I ſhould
know it. The two Devils of Inadvertency and
Forgetfulneſs have got faſt hold on you. I
think you need not quit his and Balaguer's Com-
pany for the Reaſons I mentioned in that Letter,
becauſe they are above Suſpicions, as Whiggiſimi
and Unſuſpectiſſimi. When the Lord Lieutenant
goeth forEngland, I have a Method to ſet you right
with him, I hope, as I will tell you when I come
to Town, if I do not Sheridan it, I mean forget it,
I did a Sheridaniſm; I told you I had ſent your
Letter incloſed, which you intended to Lord
Carteret, and yet I have it ſafe here.
Ta
406
LETTERS to and from
To the ſame.
IH
Good Do&tor, London, July 8, 1726.
Have had two Months of great Unea fineſs
at the ill Account of Mrs. Jol:nſon's Health,
and, as it is uſual, feared the Worſt that was
poffible, and doubted all the good Accounts
that were ſent me. I pray God her Danger
may warn her to be leſs wilful, and more ready
to fall into thoſe Meafures that her Friends and
Phyſicians adviſe her to. I had a Letter two
Days ago from Archdeacon Walls, dated fix
Days before yours, wherein he giveth me a bet-
ter Account than you do, and therefore I appre-
hend ſhe hath not mended ſince; and
and yet he
ſays he can honeſtly tell me ſhe is now much better.
Pray thank the Archdeacon, and tell him
are to have a Share in this Letter; and therefore
I will ſave him the Trouble of another. Tell
him alſo, that I never aſked for my 1000 l.
which he hears I have got, although I menti-
oned it to the Princeſs the laſt Time I ſaw her,
but I bid her tell * _lel ſcorned to aſk him for
it; but blot out this Paſſage, and mention it to
no one, except the Ladies; becauſe I know
Mrs. J-1 would be pleaſed with it, and I
will
you
* Sir Rohr: Walpol, Fir Lord of the Treaſury, and Chan-
cellor of the Excheques, created Earl of Orford in 1742, died
February 1744, in the 71ſt Year of his Age.
Dr. SWIFT.
407
ons.
will not write to them until I hear from them;
therefore this Letter is theirs as well as yours.
The Archdeacon further ſays, that Mrs. John-
Jon hath not taſted Claret for ſeveral Months,
but once at his Houſe. This I diſlike. I can-
not tell who is the fourth of your Friends, un-
leſs it be yourſelf: I am ſorry for your new la-
borious Studies, but the beſt of it is, they will
not be your own another Day. I thank you
for
your new Style, and moſt uſeful Quotati-
I am only concerned, that although you
get
the Grace of the Houſe, you will never get
the Grace of the Town, but die plain Sheridan,
or Tom at moít, becauſe it is a Syllable ſhorter
than Doctor. However, I will give it you at
Length in the Superſcription, and People will
ſo wonder how the News could come and re-
turn ſo quick to and from England, eſpecially
if the Wind be fair when the Packet goeth over ;
and let me warn you to be very careful in ſend-
ing for your Letters two Days after
mericeinent. You loſt one Poft by my being
out of Town; for I came hither To-day, and
ſhall ſtay three or four upon fome Buſineſs, and
then
go back to Mr. Pope's, and there conti-
nue until Auguſt, and then come to Town un-
til I begin my Journey to Ireland, which I pro-
poſe the Middle of Auguſt. My old Servant
Archy is here ruined and ſtarving, and hath pur-
ſued me and wrote a Letter, but I have refuſed
to ſee him. Our Friend at the Caſtle writ to
me two Months ago, to have a ſight of thoſe
Papers
V.
your Com-
408
LETTERS to and from
Papers, &c. of which I brought away a Copy.
I have anſwered him, that whatever Papers I
have, are conveyed from one place to another
through nine or ten Hands, and that I have the
Key. If he ſhould mention any thing of Pa-
pers in general either to you or the Ladies, and
that
you can bring it in, I would have you and
them to confirm the ſame Story, and laugh at
my Humour in it, &c. My Service to Dr.
Delany, Dr.Helſham, theGrattans, and Jackſons.
There is not ſo deſpiſed a Creature here as your
Friend with the ſoft Verſes on Children. I
heartily pity him. This is the firſt time I
was ever weary of England, and longed to be
in Ireland; but it is becauſe go I muſt; for I
do not love Ireland better, nor England, as
England, worſe; in ſhort, you all live in a
wretched, dirty Dog-hole and Priſon, but it is
a Place good enough to die in. I can tell you
one Thing, that I have had the faireſt Offer
made me of a Settlement here that one can i.
magine, which if I were ten Years younger,
I would gladly accept, within twelve Miles of
London, and in the midſt of my Friends.
Friends. But
I am too old for new Schemes, and eſpecially
ſuch as would bridle me in my Freedoms and
Liberalities. But ſo it is, that I muſt be forced
to get home partly by Stealth and partly by
Force. I have indeed one * Temptation for this
Winter
* Lord Bolingbroke invited the Dean to ſpend a Winter with
kim at hia Houſe in France, on the Banks of the Loire.
Dr. SWIFT.
499
Winter, much ſtronger, which is of a fine
Houſe and Garden, and Park, and Wine-Cel-
lar in France, to paſs away the Winter in, and if
Mrs. In were not ſo out of Order, I
would certainly accept of it; and I wiſh ſhe
would go to Montpellier at the fame Time.
You ſee I am grown viſionary, and therefore it
is Time to have done. Adieu.
1
To the fame.
Jl.ly 27, 1726.
Have yours juſt now of the 19th, and the
Account you give me is nothing but what
I have ſome Time expected with the utmoſt
Agonies; and there is one Aggravation of Con-
ſtraint, that where I am, I am forced to put
on an eaſy Countenance. It was at this Time
the teſt Office your Friendſhip could do, not to
deceive me.
I was violently bent all the laſt
Year, as I believe you remember, that ſhe ſhould
go to Montpellier, or Bath, or Tunbridge. I en-
treated, if there was no Amendment, they
might both come to London. But there was
a Fatality, although I indeed think her Stami-
na could not laſt much longer, when I ſaw ſhe
could take no Nouriſhment, I look upon this
as the greateſt Event that can ever happen to
me, but all my Preparations will not ſuffice to
make me bear it like a Philoſopher, nor alto-
gether like a Chriſtian. There hath been the
moſt intimate Friendſhip between us from her
Childhood,
410 LETTERS to and from
Childhood, and the greateſt Merit on her Side,
that cver was in one human Creature towards
another. Nay, if I were now near her
I would not ſee her; I could not behave myſelf
tolerably, and ſhould redouble her Sorrow.--
Judge in what a Temper of Mind I write this.
The very time I am writing, I conclude the
faireſt Soul in the World hath lefi its Body.--
Confuſion! that I am this Moment called down
to a Viſitor, when I am in the Country, and
not in my Power to deny myſelf. I have
paſſed a very conſtrained Hour, and now re-
turn to ſay I know not what: I have been long
weary of the World, and ſhall for
my
ſmall
Remainder of Years be weary of Life, having
for ever loſt that Converſation which could on-
ly make it tolerable.--. I fear while you are
reading this, you will be ſhedding Tears at her
Funeral; ſhe loved you well, and a great Share
of the little Merit I have with you, is owing
to her Sollicitations.
I writ to you about a Week
ago.
To the ſame.
London, May 13, 1727.
HIS goes by a private Hand, for my
Writing is too much known, and my
Letters often ſtopt and opened. I had yours
of
T
Dr. SWIFT.
411
the 4th Inſt. and it is the only one I have re-
ceived out of Ireland ſince I left you. I hardly
thought our Friend would be in Danger by a
Cold; I am of Opinion the ſhould be generally
in the Country, and only now and then viſit the
Town:
We are here in a ſtrange Situa-
tion; a firm, ſettled Reſolution to aſſault the
preſent Adminiſtration, and break it, if pofli-
ble. It is certain, that Wolpole is peevith and
diſconcerted, ſtoops to the vileft Offices of hire-
ing Scoundrels to write Billingſgate of the low-
eſt and moſt proſtitute Kind, and hath none but
Beaſts and Blockheads for his Pen-men, whom
he pays in ready Guincas very liberally. I am
in high Diſpleaſure with him and his Partiſans;
a great Man, who was very kind to me lait
Year, doth not take the leaſt Notice of me at
the PM's Court, and there hath not been
one of them to ſee me. I am adviſed by all
my Friends not to go to France, (as I intended
for two Months) for fear of their Vengeance in
a manner which they cannot execute here.
I reckon there will be a warm Winter, where-
in
my
Comfort is, I Mall have no Concern. I
deſire you will read this Letter to none but our
two Friends, and Mr. P; his Couſin
with the Red Ribbon enquired very kindly after
him.--I hear no News about your Biſhops,
farther than that the Lord Lieutenant ſtickles
to have them of Ireland, which IV-le al-
ways is averſe from, but doth not think it worth
his Trouble to exert his Credit on ſuch Trifles.
The
ز
412
LETTERS to and from
The Diſpute about a War or no War ſtill con-
tinueth, and the major part inclineth to the
latter, although ten Thouſand Men are ordered
for Holland. But this will bring ſuch an Ad-
dition to our Debts, that it will give great Ad-
vantages againſt thoſe in Power, in the next
Seſſions. W-le laughs at all this, but not
ſo heartily as he uſed. I have at laſt ſeen the
* Princeſs twice this Week by her own Com.
mands; ſhe retaineth her old Civility, and I my
old Freedom; ſhe chargeth me without, Cere-
mony, to be Author of a bad of Book, although
I told her how angry the Miniſtry were ; but
ſhe aſſureth me that both ſhe and the || Prince
were very well pleaſed with every Particular;
but I diſowned the whole Affair, as you know
I very well might, only gave her leave, ſince
ſhe liked the Book, to ſuppoſe what Author ſhe
pleaſed. You will wonder to find me ſay ſo
much of Politicks, but I keep very bad Com-
pany, who are full of nothing elſea Pray
be very careful of your Charge, or I ſhall or-
der my Lodgers the Bulk of their Glaſſes, and
the Number of their Bottles.--I ſtole this
Time to write to you, having very little to
Spare. I go as ſoon as poffible to the Country,
and ſhall rarely ſee this Town.
My Service to all Friends.
I deſire you will ſend me ſix Setts of the
Edition
*Caroline Princeſs of Wales, afterwards Queen Confort to King
George II.
† Gulliver's Travels, | Afterwards King George II.
Dr. SWIFT.
413
Edition of the Drapiers, by the firſt Conve-
nience of an Friend or Acquaintance that
comes hither.
To the ſame.
I
London, June 24, 1727.
Have received your laſt, with the incloſed
Print. I deſire you will let Dr. Day
know that I tranſcribed the Subſtance of his
Letter, and the Tranſlation of what was Re-
giſtered, and added a whole State of the Caſe,
and gave it Mrs. * Howard to give to the +Prince
from me, and to deſire that, as Chancellor, he
would do what he thought moſt fit. I forgot
to aſk Mrs. Howard what was done in it,
the next Time I ſaw her, and the Day I came
to Town had the News of the || King's Death,
of which I ſent Particulars the very fame Day
to our Friend ; ſince then we have been all in
a Hurry, with Millions of Schemes. I deferred
kiſſing the King and Queen's Hands till the third
Day, when my Friends at Court chid me for
deferring it ſo long. I have been, and am, fo
extreamly buſy, that altho' I begin this Letter,
I cannot finiſh it until next Poſt; for now it is
Vol. VIII.
нь
the
* Afterwards Counteſs of Suffolk.
+ His Royal Highneſs, George, Prince of Wales, Chancellor
of the Univerſity of Dublin.
#King George I.
414
LETTERS to and from
to.
the laſt Moment it can go, and I have much
more to ſay. I was juſt ready to go to France,
when the News of the King's Death arrived,
and I came to Town in order to begin my
Journey. But I was deſired to delay it, and
I then determined it a ſecond: When upon
ſome new Incidents, I was with great Vehe-
mence diffuaded from it by certain Perſons
whom I could not diſobey. Thus Things
ſtand with me. My Stomach is pretty good,
but for ſome Days my Head hath not been
right, yet it is what I have been formerly uſed
Here is a ſtrange World, and our Friend
would reproach me for my Share in it; but it
fhall be ſhort, for I deſign foon to return into
the Country. I am thinking of a Chancellor
for the Univerſity, and have pitched upon one, ,
but whether he will like it, or my Word be
of any Uſe, I know not.
The Talk is now
for a moderating Scheme, wherein no-body
ſhall be uſed the Worſe or Better for being
called Whig or Tory, and the King hath re-
ceived both with great Equality ; thewing Ci-
vilities to ſeveral who are openly known to be
the latter. I prevailed with a Dozen that we
ſhould go in a Line to kiſs the King and Queen's
Hands. We have now done with Repining,
if we ſhall be uſed well, and not baited as
formerly; we all agree in it, and if Things
do not mend it is not our Faults: We have
made our Offers: If otherwiſe, we are as we
were. It is agreed the Miniſtry will be changed,
but
Dr. SWIFT.
415
but the others will have a ſoft Fall; though
the King muſt be exceſſive Generous if he for
gives the Treatment of ſome people. I writ
long ago my Thoughts to my Viceroy, and he
may proceed as he ſhall be adviſed. But if the
*A.B.goes on to proceed to ſub pæna contemptus,
&c. I would have an Appeal at proper Time,
which I ſuppoſe muſt be to Delegates, or the
Crown, I know not which. However, I will
ſpend a hundred or two Pounds, rather than
be enſlaved, or betray a Right which I do not
value Three-pence, but my Succeſſors may.
My Service to all Friends; and ſo thinking I
have ſaid enough, I bid you
farewell heartily,
and long to eat of your Fruit, for I dare eat
none here. It hath coſt me five Shillings in
Victuals ſince I came hither, and ten Pounds to
Servants where I have dined. I ſuppoſe my
* Agent in Sheep-ſtreet taketh care and enquireth
about my new Agent.
To the ſame.
I
Twickenham, July 1, 1727.
Had
yours of June 22. You complain of
not hearing from me; I never was ſo con-
ftant a Writer. I have writ fix Times to our
H h 2
Friends,
* Dr. William King.
+ Rev. Mr. John Worralla
416
LETTERS to and froin
Friends, and as many to you. Mr. Pope is
reading your Perſius; he is frequently fick,
and ſo at this Time; he hath read it, but
you
muſt wait until next Letter for his Judgment.
He would know whether it is deſigned for an
elegant Tranſlation, or only to ſhew the Mean.
ing; I reckon it an Explanation of a difficult
Author, not only for Learners, but for thoſe
alſo who are not expert in Latin, becauſe he is
a very dark Author: I would not have
your
Book printed entire, until I treat with my
Bookſeller here for your Advantage. There is
a Word (Concacu's) which you have not ex-
plained, nor the Reaſon of it. Where you are
ignorant, you ſhould confeſs you are ignorant.
I writ to Stella the Day we heard the King
was dead, and the Circumſtances of it. I hold
you a Guinea I ſhall forget ſomething. Worrall
writ to me lately. In Anſwer, I deſire that
when the A. Bp. comes to a Determination,
that an Appeal be properly lodged, by which
I will elude him until my Return, which will
be at Michaelmas. I have lefi London, and ſtay
here a Week, and then I ſhall go thither again ;
juſt to ſee the Queen, and ſo come back lai-
ther. Here are a thouſand Schemes wherein
they would have me engaged, which I embrace
but coldly, becauſe I like none of them. I
have been this ten Days inclining to my
old
Diſeaſe of Giddineſs, a little Tottering; our
Friend underſtandeth it, but I grow cautious,
and
Dr. SWIFT.
417
1
and am ſomething better : Cyder and Cham-
pagne
and Fruit have been the Cauſe. But
now I am very regular, and I eat enough. I
took Doctor Delany's Paper to the King when
he was Prince; he and his Secretary are dif-
contented with the * Provoſt, but they find he
hath Law on his side. The King's Death hath
broke that Meaſure. I propoſed the t Prince of
Wales to be Chancellor, and I believe ſo it will
go. Pray copy out the Verſes I writ to Stella
on her collecting my Verſes, and ſend them to
me, for we want ſome to make our Poetical
Miſcellany large enough, and I am not there
to pick what ſhould be added. Direct them,
and all other double Papers to Lord B-th--|
in St. James's Square, London. I was in a
Fright about your Verſes on Stella's Sickneſs,
but glad when they were a Month old.
Defire our Friends to let me know what I
ſhould buy for them here, of any kind. I
had juſt now a long Letter from Mrs. Dingley,
and another from Mr. Synge. Pray tell the
latter, that I return him great Thanks, and
will leave the Viſiting Affair to his Diſcretion.
But all the Lawyers in Europe ſhall never per-
fuade me that it is in the A. Bp's Power to take
or refuſe my Proxy, when I have the King's
Leave of Abſence. If. he be violent, I will
Hh
3
appeal,
.
* Rev. Dr. Baldwin.
+ His Royal Highneſs Frederick Prince of Wales, eldelt Sor
of K. George II.
418
LETTERS. to and frono
appeal, and die two or three Hundred Pounds
poorer, to defend the Rights of the Dean.
Pray aſk Mr. Synge whether his Fenocchio be
grown; it is now fit to eat here, and we eat it
like Sellary, either with or without Oil, &c.
I deſign to paſs my Time wholly in the Coun-
try, having ſome Buſineſs to do, and ſettle
before I leave England for the laſt Time. I will
ſend you Mr. Pope's Criticiſms, and my own,
on your Work. Pray forget nothing of what
I deſire you. Pray God bleſs you all. If the
King had lived but ten Days longer, I ſhould
be now at Paris. Simpleton! the Drapiers
ſhould have been fent unbound, but it is no
great Matter; two or three would have been
enough. I ſee Mrs. Fad but ſeldom, I never
trouble them but when I am ſent for ; the ex-
pects me foon, and after that perhaps no more
while I am here. I deſire it may be told that
I never go to Court, which I mention becauſe
of a Paſſage in Mrs. * Dingley's Letter; the
ſpeaketh mighty good Things of your
Kind-
neſs. I do not want that Poem to Stella, to
print it entire, but ſome Paffages out of it, if
they deſerve it, to lengthen the Volume. Read
all this Letter without Heſitation, and I will
give you a Pot of Ale. I intend to be with you
at Michaelmas, barr Impoſſibilities.
TO
* An Engliſh Lady, a Friend of the Dean's,
Dr. SWIFT.
419
To the fame.
1
Twickenham, Aug. 12, 1727.
Am cleverly caught, if ever Gentleman was
cleverly caught; for three Days after I
came to Town with * Lord Oxford from Cam-
bridgeſhire, which was ten Days ago, my old
Deafneſs ſeized me, and hath continued ever
fince with great Encreaſe ; ſo that I am now
Deafer than ever you knew me, and yet a little
leſs, I think, than I was Yeſterday; but which
is worfe, about four Days ago my Giddineſs
ſeized
me, and I was ſo very ill, that Yeſterday
I took a hearty Vomit, and although I now
totter, yet I think I am a Thought better ;
but what will be the Event, I know not; one
thing I know, that theſe deaf Fits uſe to con-
tinue five or fix Weeks, and I am refolved if
it continueth, or my Giddinefs, fome Days
longer, I will leave this place, and remove to
Greenwich, or ſomewhere near London, and
take iný Couſin Lancelot to be my Nurſe.
Our Friends know her; it is the fame with
Pat Rolt. I am very uneaſy here, becauſe ſo
many
Hh 4
* Son of the late Rt. Hon. Robert Harley, Lord High Trea-
furer of England, treated Earl of Oxford and Eart of Mortimer,
by Queen Anne
420
LETTERS to and from
many of our Acquaintance come to ſee us, and
I cannot be ſeen; beſides, Mr. Pope is too
fickly and complaiſant; therefore I reſolve to
go ſomewhere elſe. This is a little unlucky,
my Head will not bear writing long: I want
to be at home, where I can turn you out, or
let you in, as I think beſt. The King and
Queen come in two Days to our of Neighbour-
hood; and there I ſhall be expected, and can-
not go; which, however, is none of my
Grievances, for I had rather be abſent, and
have now too good an Excuſe. I believe this
Giddineſs is the Diſorder that will at laſt get
the better of me; but I had rather it ſhould
not be now; and I hope and believe it will not,
for I am now better than Yeſterday. Since
my Dinner my Giddineſs is much better, and
my Deafneſs a Hair's Breadth not ſo bad. It
is juſt as uſual, worſt in the Morning and at
Evening. I will be very temperate ; and in
the midſt of Peaches, Figs, Nectarins, and
Mulberries, I touch not a Bit. I hope I ſhall
however ſet out in the middle of September, as
I deſigned. This is a long
This is a long Letter for an ill
Head: So adieu. My Service to our two
Friends and all others.
TO
+ Richmond
Dr. SWIFT.
421
To the fame.
I
Twickenham, Aug. 29, 1727.
Have had your Letter of the 19th, and ex-
pect, before you read this, to receive an-
other from you with the moſt fatal News that
can ever come to me, unleſs I were to be put
to Death for ſome ignominious Crime, I con-
tinue very ill with my Giddineſs and Deafneſs,
of which I had two Days Intermiſſion, but
ſince worſe, and I ſhall be perfectly content if
God ſhall pleaſe to call me away at this Time.
Here is a triple Cord of Friendſhip broke,
which hath laſted thirty Years, twenty four of
which in Ireland. I beg, if you have not writ
to me before you get this, to tell me no Parti-
culars, but the Event in general: My Weak-
neſs, my Age, my Friendſhip will bear no
.
I have mentioned the Caſe, as well as I
knew it, to a Phyſician who is my Friend; and
I find his Methods were the ſame, Air, and
Exerciſe, and at laſt Afles-Milk, I will tell
you ſincerely, that if I were younger, and in
Health, or in Hopes of it, I would endeavour
to divert my Mind by all Methods, in order to
paſs my Life in quiet; but I now want only
three Months of Sixty. I am ſtrongly viſited
with a Diſeaſe that will at laſt cut me off ; if I
fhould this Time eſcape; if not, I have but a
poor
more.
422
LETTERS to and from
when my
poor Remainder, and that is below any wiſe
Man's valuing. I do not intend to return to
Ireland ſo ſoon as I purpoſed; I would not be
there in the very midſt of Grief. I deſire
you
will ſpeak to Mr. Worral, to get a new Licence
about the beginning of October, when old
one, (as he will ſee by the Date) ſhall expire ;
but if that fatal Accident were not to happen,
I am not able to travel in my preſent Condition.
What I intend is, immediately to leave this
Place, and go with my old Couſin for a Nurſe
about five Miles from London, on the other Side
towards the Sea; and, if I recover, I will ei-
ther paſs this Winter near Saliſbury-Plain, or
in France; and therefore I deſire Mr. Worral
may make this Licence run like the former (To
Great-Britain or elſewhere for Recovery of his
Health]
This Stroke was unexpected, and my Fears
laſt Year were ten Times greater.
To the ſame.
: London, Sept. 2, 1727:
Had yours of the 19th of Auguſt, which I
anſwered the 29th, from Twickenham, I
came to Town on the laſt Day of Auguſt, be-
ing impatient of ſtaying there longer, where
ſo much Company came to us, while I was ſo
giddy and deaf. I am now got to my
Couſin
Lancelot's
Dr. SWIFT.
423
knew me.
Lancelot's Houſe, where I deſire all Letters
may be directed to ine; I am ſtill in the ſame
Condition, or rather worſe, for I walk like a
drunken Man, and ain deafer than ever you
If I had any tolerable Health, I
would
go this Moment to Ireland; yet, I think
I would not, conſidering the News I daily ex-
pect to hear from you. I have juſt received
yours of Auguſt 24; I kept it an Hour in my
Pocket, with all the Suſpenſe of a Man who
expected to hear the worſt News that Fortune
could give him; and at the ſame Time was not
able to hold up my Head. Theſe are the Per-
quiſites of living long : The laſt Act of Life
is always a Tragedy at beſt; but it is a bitter
Aggravation to have one's Friend go before one,
I deſired in my laſt that you would not enlarge
upon that Event; but tell me the bare Fact.
I long knew that our dear friend had not the
Stamina vita; but my Friendſhip could not arm
me againſt this Accident, although I foreſaw
it. I have ſaid enough in my laſt Letter, which
now, I ſuppoſe, is with you. I know not
whether it be an Addition to my Grief or no,
that I am now extremely ill; for it would have
been a Reproach to me to be in perfect Health,
when ſuch a Friend is defperate. I do profeſs,
upon my Salvation, that the diſtreſſed and de-
fperate Condition of our Friend maketh Life
ſo indifferent to me, who by Courſe of Nature
have ſo little left, that I do not think it worth
the Time to ſtruggle; yet I ſhould think, ac-
cording
424 LETTERS to and from Dr. Swift.
cording to what hath been formerly, that I may
happen to overcome this preſent Diſorder. Í
brought both thoſe * Friends over, that we
might be happy together as long as God ſhould
pleaſe; the Knot is broken, and the remaining
Perſon, you know, hath ill anſwered the End;
and the other, who is now to be loft, was all
that is valuable. You agreed with me, or you
are a great Hypocrite. What have I to do in
the World ? I was never in ſuch Agonies as
when I received your Letter, and had it in my
Pocket.
I am able to hold up my ſorry Head no lon-
ger.
1
am, &c.
That ingenious Lady, for whom the Author ex-
preſſeth ſo much Concern in the two foregoing Let-
ders, was Stella ; ſo often celebrated in the Au-
thor's Poems, for her fine Perſon, Wit, and ma-
ny Virtues. Her Phyſician told her when ſhe was
rear dying, that she was at the Bottom of the
Hill, and they muſt endeavour to get her up again.
But ſhe plainly ſaw the Approaches of Death,
and readily replied, That the found the would
be out of Breath before ſhe got up to the Top.
She died in a few Months after the Date of theſe
Letters, on the 28th of January 1727.
Dr.
* Mrs. Johnſon and Mrs. Dingley; both Relations to Sir Wil-
liam Temple, at whoſe Houfe che Author became acquainted with
them, after he left the Univerſity of Dublin. Their Fortunes
being not very confiderable, they choſe to ſpend their Days in
Ireland,
PRAYERS.
425
Dr. Swift, after his Return to Ireland in the
Beginning of October, having viſited her fre-
quently during her Sickneſs, not only as a Friend,
but a Clergyman; he uſed the following Prayers
on that Occaſion ; which are here printed from
bis own Hand-Writing.
The firſt he wrote O&t. 17, 1727.
MO
OST merciful Father, accept our hum-
bleit Prayers in Behalf of this thy lan-
guithing Servant: Forgive the Sins, the Frail.
ties and Infirmities of her Life paſt. Accept
the good Deeds the hath done, in ſuch a Man-
ner, that at whatever Time Thou ſhalt pleaſe
to call her, ſhe may be received into Everlaſt-
ing Habitations. Give her Grace to continue
ſincerely thankful to Thee for the many Fa-
vours thou haſt beſtowed upon her: The Ability
and Inclination and Practice todo Good, and thofe
Virtues, which have procured the Eſteem and
Love of her Friends, and a moſt unſpotted Name
in the World. Oh God, thou difpenfeſt thy
Bleſſings and thy Puniſhments, as it becometh
infinite Juſtice and Mercy; and ſince it was thy
Pleaſure to afflict her with a long, conſtant,
weakly State of Health, make her truly fenfi-
ble, that it was for very wiſe Ends, and was
largely made up to her in other Bleſſings, more
valuable and leſs common. Continue to her,
O Lord, that Firmneſs and Conſtancy of Mind,
wherewith thou haſt molt gracioudy endowed
her
426
PRAY Ë R S
her, together with that Contempt of worldly
Things and Vanities, that ſhe hath ſhewn ií
the whole Conduct of her Life. O All-pow-
erful Being, the leaſt Motion of whoſe Will
can create or deſtroy a World; pity us the
mournful Friends of thy diſtreſſed Servant, who
fink under the Weight of her preſent Condition,
and the Fear of loſing the moſt valuable of our
Friends í Reſtore her to us; ( Lord, if
it be thy gracious Will, or inſpire us with Con-
ſtancy and Reſignation, to ſupport ourſelves un-
der fo heavy an AMiction. Reſtore her, o
Lord, for the Sake of thoſe Poor, who by
loſing her will be deſolate, and thoſe Sick, who
will not only want her Bounty, but her Care
and Tending; or elſe, in thy Mercy, raiſe up
fome other in her Place with equal Diſpoſition
and better Abilities. Leſſen, O Lord, we be-
ſeech thee, her bodily Pains, or give her a dou-
ble Strength of Mind to ſupport them. And
if thou wilt foon take her to thyſelf, turn our
Thoughts rather upon that Felicity, which we
hope the ſhall enjoy, than upon that unſpeak-
able Loſs we ſhall endure. Let her Memory
be ever dear unto us; and the Example of her
many Virtues, as far as human Infirmity will
admit, our conſtant Imitation. Accept, O
Lord, theſe Prayers poured from the very Bot-
tom of our Hearts, in thy Mercy, and for the
Merits of our Bleſſed Saviour. Amen.
The
PRAYERS.
427
The ſecond Prayer was written Nov. 6, 1727.
O
Merciful Father, who never afflicteſt thy
Children, but for their own Good, and
with Juſtice, over which thy Mercy always
prevaileth, either to turn them to Repentance,
or to puniſh them in the preſent Life, in order
to reward them in a better ; take Pity, we be-
ſeech thee, upon this thy poor afflicted Servant,
languiſhing ſo long and ſo grievouſly under the
Weight of thy Hand. Give her Strength, O
Lord, to ſupport her Weakneſs; and Patience
to endure her Pains, without repining at thy
Correction. Forgive every raſh and inconfide-
rate Expreſſion, which her Anguilh may at any
Time force from her Tongue, while her Heart
continueth in an entire Submiſſion to thy Will.
Suppreſs in her, O Lord, ail eager Deſires of
Life, and lefſen her Fears of Death, by inſpire-
ing into her an humble, yet aſſured, Hope of
thy Mercy. Give her a ſincere Repentance for
all her Tranſgreſſions and Omiſſions, and a firm
Reſolution to paſs the Remainder of her Life
in endeavouring to her utmoſt to obſerve all thy
Precepts. We beſeech thee likewiſe to com-
poſe her Thoughts; and preſerve to her the
Uſe of her Memory and Reafon during the
Courſe of her Sickneſs. Give her a true Con-
ception of the Vanity, Folly, and Inſignificancy
of all human Things; and ſtrengthen her ſo as
to beget in her a ſincere Love of thee in the
Midſt
428
PRAYERS.
Midſt of her Sufferings. Accept and impute
all her good Deeds, and forgive her all thoſe
Offences againſt thee, which ſhe hath fincerely
repented of, or through the Frailty of Memo-
гу
hath forgot. And now, O Lord, we turn
to thee in Behalf of ourſelves, and the reſt of
her forrowful Friends. Let not our Grief af-
flict her Mind, and thereby have an ill Effect
on her preſent Diſternpers. Forgive the Sorrow
and Weakneſs of thoſe among us, who fink
under the Grief and Terror of loſing ſo dear
and uſeful a Friend. Accept and pardon our
moſt earneſt Prayers and Wiſhes for her longer
Continuance in this evil World, to do what
thou art pleaſed to call thy Service, and is only
her bounden Duty; that ſhe may be ſtill a
Comfort to us, and to all others who will want
the Benefit of her Converſation, her Advice,
her good Offices, or her Charity. And ſince
thou haſt promiſed, that where two or three are
gathered together in thy Name, thou wilt be
in the midſt of them, to grant their Requeſt;
O gracious Lord, grant to us who are here met
in thy Name, that thoſe Requeſts, which in
the utmoſt Sincerity and Earneſtneſs of our
Hearts we have now made in Behalf of this
thy diſtreſſed Servant, and of ourſelves, may
effectually be anſwered; through the Merits of
Jeſus Chriſt our Lord. Amen.
T.
Dr. SWIFT.
429
To the ſame.
MY
Sept. 18, 1728.
Y Continuance here is owing partly to
Indolence, and partly to my Hatred of
Dublin. I am in a middling Way, between
Healthy and Sick, hardly ever without a little
Giddineſs or Deafneſs, and fometimes both:
So much for that. As to what you call my
Leſſon, I told you I would think no more of
it, neither do I conceive the World deſerveth
ſo much Trouble from you or me.
I think the
Sufferings of the Country, for Want of Silver,
deſerveth a Paper, ſince the Remedy is ſo eaſy,
and thoſe in Power ſo negligent. I had ſome
other Subjects in my Thoughts; but truly I
am taken up ſo much with long Lampoons on a
Perſon who owneth you for a Back, that I have
no Time for any Thing elſe ; and if I do not
produce one, every now and then of about two
Hundred Lines, I am chid for my Idleneſs, and
threatened with
you.
I deſire you will ſtep to
the Deanry, ſpeak to + Mrs. Brent, bid her
open the middle great Drawer of Ridgeway's
Scrutore in my Cloſet, and then do
you take out
from thence, the * Hiſtory in Folio, marble
Cover; and two thin Folios fairly writ. I
VOL. VIII.
I i
forget
+ T'he Dean's Houſe-Keeper.
* The Hiſtory of the Peace of Utrecht.
430
LETTERS to and from
forget the Titles, but you have read them; one
is an Account of the Proceedings of Lord Ox-
ford's Miniſtry, and the other to the fame Pur-
poſe. There are foul Copies of both in the
ſame Drawer : but do you take out the Fair-
ones, not in my Hand; Let them be packed
up, and brought hither by the Bearer. My
Lady is perpetually quarrelling with Sir Arthur
and me, and ſhews every Creaturc the * Libels
I have writ againſt her.
Mr. Worral ſent me the Particulars of the
Havock made in f Naboth's Vineyard.
To the fame.
IR
Dublin, March 27, 1733.
Received your Letter with ſome Pleaſure,
and a good deal of Concern. The Condi-
tion you are in requires the greateſt haſte hit'ier,
although your School did not; and when
you
arrive, I will force Dr. S Helſham to ſee and di-
rect you ; your Scheme of Riding and Country-
Air
you
find hath not anſwered, and therefore
you
* See Hamilton's Bawn, a celebrated Poem for Wit and Hu-
mour, in Vol. II. of the Author's Works.
+ A Field not far froin the Deanry-Houſe, which Dr. Swift
incloſed at a great Expence, with a fine Stone Wall, lined with
Brick, againſt which he planted Vines and ſome of the beſt
choſen Fruit-Trees, for the Benefit of the Dean of St. Patrick's
for the Time being.
A very eminent Phyſician of great Learning.
Dr. SWIFT
431
you have nothing to truſt to but the Affiſtance
of a friendly, ſkilful Doétor. For whether
they can do any good or no, it is all we have
for it; and you cannot afford to die at preſent,
becauſe the Publick, and all your Family have
occaſion for it. Beſides, I do not like the
* Place you are in, from your Account, fince
you ſay People are dying there fo faſt. You
cannot afford to loſe daily Blood; but I ſuppoſe
you are no more regular than you have been in
your whole Life. I like the Article very much,
which you propoſe in your Will; and if that
taketh Place forty Years hence, and God for
the Sins of Men ſhould continue that Life ſo
long, I would have it be ſtill inſerted; unleſs
you could make it a little ſharper. I own you
have too much Reaſon to complain of ſome
Friends, who next to yourſelf have done you
moſt Hurt, whom ſtill I eſteem, and frequent,
although I confeſs I cannot heartily forgive.
Yet certainly the Caſe was not merely perſonal
Malice to you, (although it had the ſame Ef-
fecis) but a kind of I know not what Job,
which one of them hath often heartily repented;
however it came to be patched up. I am con-
fident your Collection of Bons mots, and Contes
à rire will be much the beſt extant; but you
are apt to be terribly fanguine about the Profits
of publiſhing : However, it ſhall have all the
Puſhing
1 i 2
* The Free-School of Cazan, in the Gift of the Crown;
where Dr. Sheridan hath been fince ſucceeded by Mr. James Joore,
432 LETTERS to and from
Puihing I can give. I have been much out of
order with a Spice of my Giddineſs, which be-
gan before you left us: I am better of late
Days, but not right yet, although I take daily
Drops and Bitters. I muſt do the beſt I can, ,
but ſhall never be more a Night-Walker.
You hear they have in England paſſed the Ex-
ciſe on Tobacco, and by their Votes it appears
they intend it on more Articles. And care is
taken by ſome ſpecial Friends here to have it
the ſame Way here. We are Slaves already.
And from
my
Youth upwards, the great wiſe
Men, whom I uſed to be among, taught me,
that a general Exciſe (which they now by De-
grees intend) is the moſt direct and infallible
Way to Slavery. Pray G- ſend it them in his
Juſtice, for they well deſerve it. All your Friends
and the Town are juſt as you left it. I humdrum
it on, either on Horſeback, or dining and fit-
ting the Evening at Home, endeavouring to
write, but write nothing, merely out of Indo-
lence, and Want of Spirits. No Soul hath
broke his Neck, or is hanged, or married; only
* Cancerina is dead, and I let her go to her
Grave without a Coffin, and without Fees.-
So I am going to take my Evening Walk after
Five, having not been out of Doors yet. I wiſh
you
well and ſafe home; pray call on me on
Sunday Night
I am, Yours, &c.
I am not ſo FRANCK a Writer as you.
* One of thoſe poor People to whom the Dean uſed to give
Money when he met them in his Walks
named thus for Diſtincion Sake, and partly for Humour; Can-
cerina, Stumpa-nympha, Pull-agowna, Friterilla, Flora, Stumpantha.
Some of them he
Dr. SWIFT.
433
To the fame.
YEI
Sept. 30, 1735.
Eſterday was the Going-out of the laſt
Lord Mayor, and To-day the Coming-
in of the New, who is Alderman Grattan.
The * Duke was at both Dinners, but I thought
it enough to go To-day, and I came away be.
fore Six with very little Meat or Drink. The
meeteth in a Week, and I determine to
leave the Town as ſoon as poſſible, for I am not
able to live within the Air of ſuch Animals;
but whither to go, or how far my
Health will
permit me to travel, I cannot tell; for my Mind
inifgiveth me,
that
you are neither in Humour
or Capacity to receive me as a Gueſt. I had
your Law-letter. Thoſe Things require ſerious
Conſideration : In order to bring them to a due
Perfection, a wiſe Man will prepare a large
Fund of Idioms; which are highly uſeful when
literally tranſlated by a ſkilful, eloquent Hand;
and, except our Latino Anglicus, is the moſt
neceſſary as well as ornamental Part of human
Learning. But then we muſt take ſpecial Care
of infuſing the moſt uſeful Precepts for the Di-
rection of human Life, particularly for inſtruct-
ing Princes and great Miniſters, diſtributing
our
* Duke of Dorſet, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland.
434
LETTERS to and from
Our Praiſes and Cenſures with the utmoſt Im-
partiality and Juſtice. This is what I have pre-
ſumed to attempt, although very conſcious to
myſelf of my inferior Abilities for ſuch a Per-
formance. I begin with Lady; and becauſe the
judicious Mr. Locke ſays it is neceſſary to ſettle
Terms before we write upon any Subjcct, I de-
ſcribe a certain Female of your Acquaintance,
whoſe Name ſhall be Dorothy. It is in the fol-
lowing Manner: Dolis Aſtra per, Aſtra mel, A
fus, A quoque et; Atra pes, An id Lar, Alas į
bo nes, A præ ter, At at Lar, Avi ſi ter, Age
iph, Aſtro lar, An empti pate, Ara Lar, Aram
Lar, An et, Ades e ver, At rumpet, Ad en,
Agam Lar, Agrum Lar, Ac ros pus, Afflat er-
ror, Ape e per, As noti nos, Ara ver, Ahuc
ftare, Alſo fis ter, Avi per, Ad rive Lar, Age
Lor, Aplid Lar, Afis Lar, Afis ter, Afar ter,
As hi ter, Anus Lar, Anus Lar, Arat Lar,
Aminximus, A prata pace, Agallo per, A five.
Moſt learned Sir, I entreat you will pleaſe to ob-
ſerve (ſince I muſt ſpeak in the vulgar Language)
that in the above forty-three Denominations for
Females, many of them end with the domeſtick
Deity Lar, to Thew that Women were chiefly
created for Family Affairs ; and yet I cannot
hear that any other Author hath made the ſame
Remark. Í have likewiſe begun a Treatiſe of
Geography, (the Anglo-Anglarians call it erro-
neouſly Jog Ralph I) Mei quo te fummo fit?
Aſtra canis a miti citi; an Dy et Ali cantis qui
te as bigas it, Barba dos is more populus. An
tego
Dr. SWIFT.
435
you and
tego is a des arti bere. I have a third Treatiſe
to direct young Ladies in Reading. Ama dis
de Gallis a fine his tori, an Dy et Belli anis is ab
et ter, Summas eurus Valent in an Dorſo ne Isth-
mos te legant ovum alto bis ure. I canna me fore
do mæſti cani males o fallique nat ure; na meli,
Ac at, Arat, Amaſti, fanda Ladi; Imæ ad a-
mo uſto 0; Alædi inde edi mite ex cæptas a beaſti
e verme et aram lingo ut. Præis nii cum pari
Sono dius or 10?
I believe ſome evil Spirit hath got
Poffeffion
of and a few others, in conceiving I have
any Power with the Duke of Dorſet, or with
any one Biſhop or Man of Power. I did but
glance a ſingle Word to the Duke about as pro-
per a Thing as he could do, and yet he turned
it off to ſome other Diſcourſe. You ſay, one
Word of my Mouth would do, &c. I believe
the Rhime of my Word would do juſt as much.
Am I not univerfally known to be one who
dilliketh all preſent Perſons and Proceedings ?
Another writeth to defire that I would prevail
on the * A. Bp. of Dublin to give him the beſt
Prebend of St. Patrick's. Let + Biſhop Clay-
ton allow the Reſignation, fince Mr. Donellan is
provided for. I mentioned to the Duke that
Donellan ſhould be Dean of Cork, on purpoſe to
forward the Reſignation of old Caulfield, but it
would not do, although Caulfield ſeemeth to have
ſome Hopes, and it is B. Clayton's Fault if he
doth not yield, &c.
The
* Dr. John Headly.
+ Ds. Clayton, Bilhop of Cork,
436
LETTERS to and from
I
The two following Letters which were wrote by
the Dean and Mrs. Whiteway in different
Paragraphs, are partly ironical, as the Reader
may perceive.
To the ſame.
Have been very ill for theſe two Months
paſt with Giddineſs and Deafneſs, which
laſhed me till about ten Days ago, when I gra-
dually recovered, but ſtill am weak and indolent,
not thinking any Thing worth my Thoughts;
and although (i forget what I was going to ſay,
ſo it ſerveth for nothing) I am well enough to
ride, yet I will not be at the Pains. Some of
your eight Rules I follow, ſome I reject, fome
I cannot compaſs, I mean merry Fellows.
Every Syllable that is worth Reading, in this
Letter, you are to ſuppoſe I writ it; the Dean
only took the Hints from me, but he has put them
so ill together, that I am forced to tell you
this
in my own Juſtification. Had you been worth
Hanging, you would have come to Town this Va-
cation, and I would have shown you a Poem on
the Legion-Club. I do not doubt but that a cer-
tain Perſon will pretend he writ it, becauſe there
is a copy of it in bis Hand, lying on his Table; but
do not you mind that, for there are ſome People in
the World will ſay any Thing. I wiſh you could give
ſome Account of poor Dr. Sheridan; I hear the
Reaſon he did not come to Town this Eaſter is, that
ke waited to ſee a Neighbour of his hanged.
Whatever
Dr. SWIFT.
437
Whatever is ſaid in this Page by Goody
Whiteway, I have not read nor will read;
but aſſure you, if it relateth to me it is all a
Lie; for ſhe ſays you have taught her that Art,
and as the World goeth, and the taketh you for
a wiſe Man, ſhe ought to follow your Practice.
To be ſerious, I am ſorry you ſaid ſo little of
your own Affairs, and of
your Health ; and
when will you pay me any Money? for, upon
my Conſcience, you have half ſtarved me.
The Plover Eggs were admirable, and the
Worſted for the Dean's Stockings fo fine that not
one Knitter here can knit them.
We neither of us know what the other hath
writ; ſo one Anſwer will ſerve if
you write to
us both, provided you juſtly give us both our
Share, and each of us will read our own Part.
Pray tell us how you breathe, and whether
that Diſorder is better?
If the Dean ſhould give you any Hint about
Money, you need not mind him, for to my Know-
ledge he borrowed Twenty Pounds a Month ago,
to keep bimſelf alive.
I am ſorry to tell you that poor Mrs.
is to be hanged on Tueſday next, for ſteal-
ing a piece of Indian Silk out of Bradſhaw's
Shop, and did not ſet the Houſe on fire, as I
adviſed her: I have wrote a very maſterly
Poem on the Legion-Club; which, if the Prin-
ter will be condemned to be hanged for it, you
will ſee in a three-penny Book; for it is 240
Lines
438
LETTERS to and from
Lines. Mrs. Whiteway is to have half the
Profit and talf the Hanging.
The Drapier went this Day to the Tholſel as
a Merchant, to ſign a Petition to the Government
againſt lowering the Gold, where we hear he made
a long Speech, for which he will be reckoned a
Jacobite. God ſend Hanging does not go round.
April 24, 1736.
Yours, &c.
[The Paragraphs in Italick were written by Mrs.
Whiteway, a Couſin-German of Dr. Swift's.]
To the ſame.
MR
ز
RS. Whiteway and I were fretting, raging,
ſtorming, and fuming, that you had not
fent a Letter ſince you got to your Caban, (for
the V conſonant was anciently a B) I mean
Cavan : But, however, we mingled Pity; for
we feared you had ran away from School, and
left the Key under the Door. We were much
diſappointed, that the Spring and beginning of
Summer had noi introduced the Muſes, and
that your (now) walkable Roads had not roul-
ed your Spirits. We are here the happieſt
People in the Univerſe; we have a Year and a
half before the Club will meet, to be revenged
further on the Clergy, who never offended
them; and in England their Parliament are fol-
lowing
Dr. SWIFT.
439
lowing our Steps, only with two or three Steps
for our one: It is well you have done with the
* Church, but pray take Care to get Money,
elſe in a Year or two more they will forbid all
Greek and Latin Schools, as Popiſh and Jacobite.
I took leave of the Duke and Dutcheſs To-day.
He hath prevailed on us to make a Promiſe to
beſtow upon England 25000l. a Year for ever,
by lowering the Gold Coin, againſt the Petition
of all the Merchants, Shop-keepers, &c. to a
Man (may his own Eſtate be lowered the
other forty Parts) for we now loſe by all Gold
two and a half per Cent. He will be a better
(that is to ſay a worſe) Man by 60000 l. than
he was when he came over ; and the Nation
beiter (that is to ſay worſe) by above half a
Million; beſides the worthy Method he hath
taken in Diſpoſal of Employments in Church
and State. Here is a curſed long Libel run-
ning about in Manuſcript, on the Legion-Club;
it is in Verſe, and the fooliſh Town imputeth it
to me. There were not above thirteen abuſed
(as it is ſaid) in the Original; but others have
added more, which I never ſaw; although I
have once read the true one. I have often
given my Opinion that an honeſt Man ne-
ver wiſhed himſelf to be
younger. My
Sentiment I find ought not to have been
univerſal, becauſe to my Sorrow I have
lived
* Dr. Sheridan exchanged his Living at Denboyne for the
School of Cavan
440 LETTERS to and from
lived to change. I have ſeen ſince the Death
of the late - Queen (who had few Equals before
her in every Virtue, ſince Monarchy began) )
ſo great a Contempt of Religion, Morality,
Liberty, Learning, and common Senſe, among
us in this Kingdom; a hundred Degrees beyond
what I ever met with in any Writer antient or
modern. " I am very confident, that a com-
pleat Hiſtory of the fooliſh, wicked, weak,
malicious, ruinous, factious, unaccountable,
ridiculous, abfurd Proceedings in this King-
dom, would contain twelve large Volumes in
Folio, of the ſmalleſt Letter in the largeſt Pa-
per.
What has Fowl-brother done to provoke
you? I either never heard, or have forgot your
Provocations; but he was a Fellow I have ne-
ver been able to endure. If it can be done, I
will have it printed; and the Title ſhall be,
Upon a certain Bookſeller (or Printer) in Utopia.
Mrs. Whiteway will be here To-morrow,
and ſhe will anſwer your ſincere, open-hearted
Letter, very particularly; for which I will now
leave Room. So adieu for one Night.
SIR,
I
Am moſt fincerely obliged to you for all the
civil Things you have ſaid to me, and of me, ,
to the Dean. I found the good Effe&t of them
this Day; when I waited on him, he received
me with great Good-humour, ſaid ſomething had
happened ſince he ſaw me laſt that had convinced
him of my Merit; that be was ſorry be had
treated
+ Queen Anne .
Dr. SWIFT:
445
treated me with ſo little Diſtinction, and that
hereafter I ſhould not be put upon the foot of
an humble Companion, but 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, bis Nurſe,
and the Manager of bis Family. I approved en-
tirely of his Choice, and
at the ſame Time expreſſed
my Fears, that it would be impoſſible for you to
think of living without her; this is all that ſticks
with me, but conſidering the Friendſhip you ex-
preſs to me for the Dean, I hope you will be per-
fuaded to confider his Good rather than your own;
and ſend her up immediately; or elſe it will put
hiin to the Expence of giving three Shillings and
Four-pence for a Wife, and he declares that the
badneſs of Pay of his Tythes, ſince the Reſolutions
of the P of
, puts this out of
bis Power,
I could not gueſs why you were ſo angry at
Foul - brother ; until Mrs. Whiteway, who
you
find is now with me, ſaid it was for pub-
liſhing ſome Works of yours and mine like a
Rogue; which is ſo uſual to their Trade, that
I now am weary of being angry with it. I
go
on to deſire that my * Mrs. Dorralfon will let
me know what I owe her, not in Juſtice but
Generoſity. If you could find Wine and
Victuals, I could be glad to paſs ſome part of
the Summer with you, if Health would per-
mit
* An Inn-Keeper at Cavar,
442 LETTERS to and from
mit me; for I have ſome Club-Enemies that
would be glad to ſhoot me, and I do not love
to be ſhot; it is a Death I have a particular
Averſion from. But I ſhall henceforth walk
with Servants well armed, and have ordered
them to kill my Killers ; however, I would
have them to be the Beginners. How is your
Breathing? As to myſelf, my Life and Health
are not worth a Groat: How ſhall we get
Wine to your Cabin? I can ſpare ſome.
Pray God preſerve you.
Dub. May 15, 1736.
I am, &c.
To the ſame.
Dub. Yune 5, 1736.
Am glad you got the Piles, becauſe it is a
Mark of Health, and a ſtrong Conſtitution.
I believe what you ſay 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, al-
ways take care to have the Piles; I mean any
* Piles, except thoſe of Lime and Stone, and
yet
Piles are not ſo bad as the Storze. I find
you intend to be here (by your Date) in a do-
zen
† The Author held Punns in Contempt; but would ſometimes
go into them for Merriment.
Dr. SWIFT.
443
for your
zen Days hence. The Room ſhall be ready
for you, although I ſhall never have you in a
Morning, or at Dinner, or in an Evening; at
all other Times I ſhall be peſtered with you.
As to your Veniſon, vain is one who expects it.
I am checking you for your Chickens, and could
lamb
you
Lambs. Addenda quædam.
My Wife a rattling, My Children tattling. My
Money ſpent is, And due my Rent is. My School
decreaſing, My Income ceaſing. All People teaſe
me, But no Man pays me. My Worſhip is bit,
By that Rogue Niſbit. To take the right Way,
Conſult Friend Whiteway. Would you get ſtill
more? Go flatter * Kilmore. Your Geeſe are old,
Your W - a Scold. 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 forſaken you, as mine
have me. My Head is ever bad; and I have
juſt as much Spirits left as a drowned Mouſe.
Pray do not give yourſelf Airs of pretending to
have Flies in Summer, at Cavan; and ſuch a
no Summer as this: I, who am the beſt Fly-
Catcher in the Kingdom, have not thought it
worth my Time to ſhow my Skill in that Art,
I believe nothing of your Garden Improve-
ments, for I know you too well. What you
ſay of your Leanneſs is incredible ; for when
I ſaw you laſt you were as broad as long. But
if you continue to breathe free, (which nothing
but
* Dr. Joſiah Hort, then Biſhop of Kilmora,
444
LETTERS to and from
but Exerciſe can give) you may be fa fe with as
little Fleth as I, which is none at all.
I had your Letter juſt before this was ſealed;
but I cannot anſwer it now.
To the ſame.
I
Received your two Letters. The firſt is
mingled with Latin and Engliſh, one fol-
lowing the other : Now I ſcorn that Way,
and put both Languages in one. However,
for the Sake of Order, I will begin with an-
ſwering your ſecond Letter before the firſt,
becauſe it deſerveth one, on account of your
Pre-
ſents. From Bogs, Rivers, Mountains, Moſſes,
Quagmires, Heaths, Lakes, Kennels, Ditches,
Weeds, &c. &c. &c. &c.--Mrs. Whiteway
was pleaſed, although very unjuſtly, to criti-
ciſe upon every Curioſity; the ſwears the Paper
of Gravel was of your own voiding, as ſhe
found by the Smell. That your whole Arti-
choak Leaf, ſhows its Mother to be ſmaller
than a Nutmeg; and I confeſs you were ſome-
what unwary in expoſing it to Cenſure. Your
Raſberry lhe compared with the Head of a
Corking-Pin, and the latter had the Victory.
Your Currants were inviſible, and we could
not diſtinguiſh the Red from the Black.
Your Purſlane paſſed very well with me, but
the
Dr. SWIFT.
445
ſhe ſwore it was Houſe-leek. 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, although Mrs. Donaldſon
confeffeth it was ſent her in a Box of brown
Sugar, and died as it entered the Gates. Mrs.
Whiteway Proceeds farther in her Malice,
declaring your Naſtartium to be only a P-Is-
bed; your Beans as brown aš herſelf, and of
the ſame kind with what we faiten Hogs in.
Leiceſterſhire. In one thing the admireth your
Generolitý, that for her Sake you would ſpare
à Drop or two of your Canal-Water, which by
the ſpongy Bottom needech it ſo much. The
only Defect of them alls were, that they
wanted Colour, Sight, and Smell; yet as to
the laſt, we both acknowledged them all to
exhale a general Fuſtineſs, which however did
much reſemble that of your Cavan Air.
London, July 10, 1736.
To the ſame:
I
Received your Letter which begun with
Lings. You have thirteen in all, and I
have got but a hundred 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 yet en-
tered in a Letter, which I will ſend
which I will ſend you when
VoL, VIII.
Health
Kk
446 LETTERS to and from
your
you fend
Health permiteth and I have nothing elſe 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 leaſt
Piéce of Good-fortune chearfully. I fuppofe
your Arithmetick is, that three Boys a Week,
are a hundred and fifty-nine in the Year; and
feven Guineas a Week are three hundred and
ſixty-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 Cheapneſs of Things anſwer
Expectation ? Have you ſent away your late
younger -married Daughter? and will
away the ether? Let me deſire you will be very
regular in your Accounts; becauſe a very ho-
neſt Friend of yours and mine, telleth me, that
with all your Honeſty, it is an uneaſy Thing
to have any Dealings with you that relate to
Accounts, by your frequent Forgetfulneſs and
Confuſion: For you have no Notion of Regu-
larity, and I do not wonder at it, conſidering
the ſcattered, confuſed Manner in which
you
have lived. Mrs.Whiteway thanketh you for the
good Opinion you have of her, and I know ſhe
always loved and defended you. I cannot tell
when I ſhall be able to travel. I have three
other Engagements on my Hands, but the
principal is to ſee the Bp. of Oljory. Yet I dread
the lying abroad above five Miles. I am never
well. Some Sudden Turns are every Day threat-
ening
1
Dr: SWIFT
442
eriing me with a giddy Fit; and my Affairs are
terribly embroiled. I have a Scheme of living
with you when the College-Green Club is to
meet; for in theſe Times I deteſt the Town;
and hearing the Follies, Corruptions, and Navilh
Practices of thoſe miſ-tepreſentative Members,
and reſolve, if I can ſtir, to paſs that whole
Time at Batb or Cavan. Í ſay againz keep
very regular Accounts, in large Books and a
fair Hand; not like me;, who to ſave Paper
confuſe every thing. Your Mind
Your Mind is honeſt,
but your Memory a Knave, and therefore the
Scotch mean the fame Thing by minding; that
we do by remembering. Sirrah; ſaid I to a
Scotch Footman; why did not you go that
Errand Becauſe I did nio mind it, quo' Sawný.
A curſe on theſe twenty Soldiers drumıning
through my Liberty twice a Day; and going to
a ti Barrack the Government hath placed juſt
under my Noſe. I think of a Line in Virgil
Traveſty. The De--l cut their yelping Weaſons.
We expect Lord Orrery and Biſhop Rundle next
Week.
To the ſame.
on
Will Monday (this is Saturday, N'ay 22;
as you will read below in the Date) fend or
talk to Mr. Smith: But I diſtruſt your Sangui-
nity
Kk 2
+ Called now the Podüle. Guard ; and kept within the Liber.
ties of St. Patrick's; to fupprefs Riots.
448
LETTERS to and front
nity ſo much, (by my own deſponding Tem
per) that I know not whether that Affair of
your Juſtice-ſhip be fixed, but I ſhall know
next Week, and write or act accordingly. I
battled in vain with the Duke and his Clan a.
gainſt the lowering of Gold, which is juſt a
kind Settlement upon England of 25000l. a
Year for ever : Yet ſome of my Friends differ
from me, though all agree that the Abſentees
will be juſt ſo much Gainers. I am exceſſively
glad that your Difficulty of Breathing is over;
for what is Life but Breath? I mean not that
of our Noſtrils, but our Lungs. You muſt,
in Summer, ride every half Holy-day, and go
to Church every Sunday fome Miles off. The
People of England are copying from us to plague
the Clergy, but they intend far to outdo the
Original. I wiſh I were to be born next Cen:
tury, when we ſhall be utterly rid of Parſons,
of which, God be thanked, you are none at
preſent; and until your Biſhop give you a Living,
I will leave off, (except this Letter) giving you
the Title of Reverend. I wiſh you had ſent me
the Chriſtian-name of Knatchbull, and I would
have writ to him; but I will ſee him on Monday,
if he will be viſible. The Poem on the Legion-
Club is ſo altered and enlarged, as I hear, (for
I only faw the Original) and ſo damnably mur-
dered, that they have added many of the Club
to the True Number. I hear it is charged to
me,
# Secretary to the late Lord Chancellor Wyndhah.
Dr. SWIFT.
449
me, with great Perſonal Threatnings from the
Puppies offended. Some ſay they will wait for
Revenge to their next Meeting. Others ſay,
the Privy-Council will ſummon the ſuſpected
Author. If I could get the true Copy I would
ſend it you. Your * Biſhop writeth me Word,
that the real Author is manifeſt by the Work.
Your Loſs of Fleſh is nothing, if it be
made
up
with Spirit. God help him who hath
neither, I mean myſelf. I believe I ſhall ſay
with Horace, Non omnis moriar; for half my
Body is already ſpent,
To the fame.
April 9, 1737
ABOUT a Month
your last
BOUT a Month
ago I received
Letter, wherein you complain of my
long Silence; what will you do when I am fo
long in anſwering? I have one Excuſe which
will ſerve for all my Friends, I am quite worn
out with Diſorders of Mind and Body; a long
Fit of Deafneſs, which ſtill continues, hath
unqualified me for converſing, or thinking, or
reading, or hearing; to all this is added an Ap-
prehenſion of Giddineſs, whereof I have fre-
quently ſome frightful Touches. Beſides, I
can hardly write ten Lines without twenty Blun-
ders,
* Dr. Hort.
450
LETTERS to and from
ܪ ܐ
ders, as you will fee by the Number of Scratch,
ings and Blots before this Letter is done ; Inta
the Bargain, Į have not one Rag of Memory
left; and my Friends have all forſaken me,
Aş
to my taking a Journey to Cavan, I am juſt as
capable as of a Voyage to China, or of running
Races at Newmarket. But, to ſpeak in the
Latinitas Grattaniana ; Tu clamas meretrix pri-
MNUS; for we have all expected you here at
Eaſter, as you were uſed to do. Your Mu.
ſter-Roll of Meat is good, but, of Drink in
ſup Port able. Yew wann twine. My Streſs
Alba via hath eaten here all your hung Beef,
and faid it was very good. I am now come to
the noli me Tan Jerry, which begg Inns wyth
mad Dam---So I will go on bythe Strength
of my own Wit upon Points of the high
eſt imp or taunts. I have been very curious in
conſidering that fruitful Word Ling; which
explaineth many fine Qualities in Ladies, ſuch
as grow ling, ray ling, tip ling, (ſeldom) toy
ling, mumb ling, grumbling, curr ling, puls
ling, buſs ling, ſtrom ling, ranıb ling, quarry
bing, tat ling, whiff ling, dabb ting, doub ling.
Theſe are but as ample ofan hunn dread mower:
They have all got cold this Winter, big Qwing
tooth in lick lad ink old wet her, an dare ink
you rabble.Well, I triumph over you, is
corn Urine cap a City? Pray tell me, does the
Land of Quiłca pay any Rent? or is any paid
by the Tenant? or is there not any Part of 591.
to be got? But before you make Complaints of
ill
1
Dr. SWIFT.
451
ill Payments from your School, I will declare
I was never ſo ill paid as now, even by my
richer Debtors. I have finiſhed my Will for
the laſt Time, wherein I left fome little Lega-
you are not to receive until you ſhall
be entirely out of my Debt, and paid all you
owe me to my Executors. And I have made
very honourable Mention of you in the Will,
as the Confideration of my leaving theſe Lega-
cy, which
cies to you,
Explain this Proverb, Salt dry Fiſh, and the
Wedding-gold, is the Vice of Women both
young
and old. Yes, you have it i nam o mento time. .
The old Huncks S -d hath bury'd his only
Son, who was a young Huncks come to Age.
A Satyr on an inconſtant Lover.
You are as faithleſs as a Carthaginian,
To love at once Kate, Nell, Doll, Martha, Jenny,
Ann,
A Specimen of Latinitas G.
Ego ludam diabolum fuper duos Baculos cum te.
Voca ſuper me cras,
Profe&to Égo dabo tibi tuum ventrem plenum legis
,
Sine me folum cum illo. Ego capiam tempus.
Quid peftis velles tu elle apud.
Ego faciam te fumare.
Duc
452 LETTERS to and from
Duc uxorem veni ſuper.
Ego dabo tibi pyxidem in aure.
Ego faciam te ſecare Saltum.
Veni,veni, folvetuum Scotum, et fac nonplura verba,
Id eſt plus expenfi quam veneratio.
Si tu es pro Lege, dabo tibi Legem, tuum ventrem
plenum.
Ut Diabolus voluit habere id,
Quid eft materia tecum.
Tu habes vetus Proverbium ſuper tuum latus : Ni-
bil eſt numquam in periculo.
Cape me apud illud, et fufpende me.
Ego capio te apud tuum verbum.
Tu venis in farti tempore.
Et formoſus corporatus homo in facie.
Efne tu fuper
. pro omni die,
Marſus : Eſne tu ibi cum tuis Urfis.
Ille eſt ex ſuper ſuam ſervationem.
Tu eſt carcer avis.
Ego ama mendaçeni in mea corde, et tu aptas me
ad crinem.
Ego dicam tibi quid: Hic eft magnus clamor, et
parva Lana.
Quid! tu es fuper tuum altum Equum,
Tu nunquam fervaſti tuum verbum.
Hic eft diabolus et omne agere,
Viſne tu efe tam bonus, quam tụum verbum.
bigo faciam porcum vel canem de id.
Ego
}
Dr. SWIFT
453
Ego fervo hoc pro pluvioſo die.
Ego polum facere id cum digito madido.
Profecto Ego habui nullum manum in id.
Eſne tu in aure nido.
Tu eſt Homo extranei renis.
Precor, ambula fuper.
Ego intro non in tuas querelas.
Ego feci amorem Virgini Honoris.
Quomodo venit id circum, quod tu ludis Stultum
Vos ibi, fac viam pro meo Domino. [ita
Omnes focii apud pedem pilam.
Famina & linteum afpiciunt optimè per candela
lucem,
1
To Dr. HELSHAM,
SIR,
HEN I left you, I found myſelf of
the Grape's Juice fick:
I'm ſo full of Pity, I never abuſe Sick;
And the patienteft Patient that ever you knew
W
fick;
Both when I am Purge-fick, and when I am
Spew-lick.
I pitied my Cat, whom I knew by her Mew
fick;
She mended at firſt, but now ſhe's anew ſick.
Captain
454
LETTERS to and from
Captain Butler made fome in the Church black
and blue fick ;
Dean Croji, had he preach'd, would have made
us all Pew-fick;
Are not you, in a Crowd, when you ſweat and
?
Lady Santry got out of the * Church when ſhe
grew fick,
:
And, as faſt as the could, to the Deanery flew
fick.
Miſs Morice was (I can affure you 'tis true) fick:
For, who woyld not be in that numerous Crew
ſick?
Such Muſick would make a Fanatick or Jew
fick
Yet, Ladies are ſeldom at Ombre, or Lue, lick;
Nor is old f Nanny Shales, whene'er ſhe does
brew, fick.
My Footman came home from the Church, of
a Bruiſe fick,
And look'd like a Rake, who was made in the
Stews fick;
But:you learned Doctors can make whom you
chufe ſick.
Poor
St. Patrick's Cathedral, where the Mufick on St. Cecilia's
Day was uſually performed.
+ Vide Gratlar, inter Belchamp et Clonſbogh.
Dr. SWIFT.
455
Poor I myſelf I was, when I withdrew, fick,
For the smell of them made me like Garlick
and Rue fick.
And I got thro' the Crowd, tho' not led by a
Clew, fick
You hop'd to find many (for that was your
Cue) lick;
But, there were not a Dozen (to give 'em their
Due) fick,
And thoſe to he fure, ſtuck together like Glew,
fick.
$q are Ladies in Crowds, when they ſqueeze
and they ſcrew, fick.
You may find they are all, by their yellow palc
Hue, fick
So am I, when Tobacco, like Robin, I chew,
fick.
Nov. 23. at Night,
173!.
;
To Doctor SHERIDAN
A
Nou. 23, at Night.
f I write any more, it will make my poor
Muſę fick
This Night I came home with a very cold
Dew fick,
And
IF ,
456
LETTERS to and from
And I wiſh I may ſoon be not of an A-gue fick;
But, I hope I ſhall ne'er be, like you, of a
Shrew fick,
Who often has made me, by looking aſcue,
fick,
To the ſame.
SIR,
RAY diſcruciate what follows:
PRAY
up a
a Bird
}
The dulleſt Beaſt, and Gentleman's Liquor,
When young is often due to the Vicar.
The dulleſt Beaſt, and Swine's Delight
Make
very
ſwift of Flight.
The dulleſt Beaſt when high in Stature,
Add another of royal Nature,
For breeding is a uſeful Creature,
The dulleſt Beaſt, and a Party diſtreſt,
When too long, is bad at beſt.
The dulleſt Beaſt, and the Saddle it wears,
Is good for Partridge, not for Hares.
The dulleſt Beaſt and kind Voice of a Cat,
Will make a Horſe go, though he be not fat.
The dulleſt of Beaſts and of Birds in the Air,
Is that by which all Iriſhmen ſwear.
The
Dr. SWIFT
457
}
1
Thedulleſt Beaſt and fam'd College for Teagues
İs a Perſon very unfit for Intrigues.
The dulleſt Beaſt and a Cobler's Tool,
With a Boy that is only fit for School,
În Summer is very pleaſant and cool.
The dulleſt Beaſt, and that which you kiſs,
May break a Limb of Maſter òr Miſs.
Of Serpent-Kind, and what at diſtance kills,
Poor Miſs Dingley oft hath felt its Bills.
The dulleſt Beaſt and Eggs unfound,
Without it I rather would walk on the Ground.
The dulleſt Beaſt and what covers á Houſe,
Without it a Writer is not worth a Louſe.
The dulleſt Beaſt, and ſcandalous Verinin
Of roaſt or boild, to the Hungry is charming.
The dulleſ Beaſt, and what's cover'd with
Cruft,
There's nobody but a Fool that would truſt.
The dulleſt Beaſt mending Highways,
Is to a Horſe an evil Diſeaſe.
The dulleſt Beaſt and a Hole in the Ground,
Will dreſs a Dinner worth five Pound:
The dulleſt Beaſt, and what Doctors pretend
The Cook-maid often hath by the End.
The dulleſt Beaſt and Fiſh for Lent
May give you a Blow you'll for ever repent.
The dulleſt Beaſt and a ſhameful Jeer,
Without it a Lady ſhould never appear.
Probatur
458
P Ô Ë Mg
.
Probatur Aliter. .
A Long-car'd Beaſt
, and a Field-houſe for
2
Cattle,
Among the Coals does ofteñ rattle.
A long-ear’d Beaſt, a Bird that prates,
The Bridegroom's firſt Gift to their Mates,
Is by all pious Chriſtians thought,
In Clergymen the greateſt Fault.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Womani of Endor;
If your Wife be a Scold, that will mend her:
With a long-ear'd Beaſt, and Medicines Uſe;
Cooks make their Fowl look tight and ſpruce,
A long-eard Beaſt and holy Fable,
Strengthens the Shoes of half the Rabble.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Rheniſh Wine,
Lies in the Lap of Ladies fine.
A long-ear'd Beaſt and Flanders College;
Is Dr. T-lto my Knowledge.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Building Knight;
Cenforious People do in ſpight.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Bird of Night,
We Sinners are too apt to flight.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and ſhameful Vermin,
A Judge will eat, tho'clad in Ermin.
1
POEMS
459
1
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Iriſh Cart,
Can leave a Mark and give a Smart.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, in Mud to lye,
No Bird in Air ſo ſwift can fly.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and a fputt'ring old Whig,
I wiſh he were in it a dancing a Jig.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and Liquor to write,
Is a damnable Smell both Morning and Night.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and the Child of a Sheep,
At Whift they will make a deſperate Sweep.
A Beaſt long-ear'd, and till Midnight you ſtay,
Will cover a Houfe much better than Clay.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and the Drink you love beſt
You call him a Sloven in earneſt or jeſt.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, and the fixteenth Letter,
I'd not look at all, unleſs I'look't better.
A long-ear'd Beaſtgive me, and Eggs unſound,
Or elſe I will not ride one Inch of Ground.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, another Name for Jeer,
To Ladies Skins there's nothing comes ſo near.
A long-eard Beaſt, and kind Noiſe of a Cat,
Is uſeful in Journies, take Notice of that,
A long-eard Beaſt, and what ſeaſons your
Beef
On ſuch an Occaſion the Law gives Relief.
A long-ear'd Beaſt, a Thing that Force muſt
drive-in,
Bears up his Houſe, that's of his own contriving.
460
POEMS
:
À L O V E SONG.
A
PUD in is almi des ire,
Mimis tres I ne ver re qui re.
Alo veri findit a geſtis,
His miſeri ne ver at reſtis.
An É P Í G R A M.
IC, heris agro at, an da quarto fine ale,
ᎠᏎ
Fora ringat ure nos, an da ftringat ure tate.
A Conſultation of four Phyſicians upon a Lord
that was dying.
IS
Firſt Doctor.
S his Honor fic? Præ lætus felis Puls. It
do' es beat veris loto de.
Second Doctor. No notiš aš qui caffi e ver
fel tu metri it. Inde edit is as faſtas an alarum,
ora fire bellat 'nite.
Third Doctor, It is veri hi.
Fourth Doctor. Noto contra dictu in mi
jugę mentitis veri loto de. It is as orto maladi
Cum calletHere e ver id octo reti reſto à par
lori
A Conſultation of four Phyſicians.
461
ori na mel an coli poſt ure.
Firſt Doctor. It is a me gri mas I opi ne.
Second Doctor. No docto rite quit fora quin
fi. Heris a plane fim tomo fit. Sorites para
celfus : Præ re adit.
Firſt Doctor. Nono Doctor I ne ver quo te
aqua caſu do.
Second Doétor. Sum arfo: Mi autoris none.
Third Doctor. No quare lingat præ fenti de
fi re. His honor is fic offa colli caſure as i fit
here.
Fourth Doctor. It is æther an atro phi ora
colli caſu fed: Ire membri re ad it in Doctor
me ades Eſſe, here itis.
Third Doctor. I ne ver re ad apage in it, no
re ver in tendit.
Second Doctor. Fer ne is offa qui te dife-
rent noti o nas i here.
Firſt Doétor. Notis ab ludi fluxit is veri
plene.
Second Doctor. I fitis a fluxit me re qui re
ac lis ter.
Third Doftar. I a ver his caſis venere lala.
i diſco ver edit in as hanc cor; an da poli pus
in his no ſe. Ani di fit be as i cetis, ago no
rea me en ſue.
Firſt Doctor. It is ad ange rus caſas ani. .
Fourth Do&tor. I mus tellure alitis ago uti
humor in his Belli. Hi ito macto is empti.
Firſt Doctor. It me bea pluri ſi; avo metis
veri
pro per
fora manat his
age.
Vol. VIII.
LI
Second
462
A Conſultation of four Pbyſicians.
Second Doétor. Ure par donat preſenti des
ire; his dis e:is is a cataride clare it.
Third Doctor. Atlas tume findit as tone in
his quid ni es.
Fourth Doctor. Itis ale pro fi fora wii ſe.
Præ hos his a poti cari? cantu tellus. Ab lis
ter me bene cefla riſum decens. Itis as urein
edi in manicas es.
Tbird Doctor. I findit ifto late tot hinc offa
rein edi; fori bere his Honor is de ad.
Second Doétor. His time is cum.
Firſt Doétor. Is it trudo ut hinc ?
Fourth Doctor. Itis veri certa in. His Paris
his Belli ſto ringo ut foris de partu re.
Third Doetor, Næ, i fis Ecce lens is de ad
lætus en dum apri eſto præ foris ſole. His Ho-
nor has bina cato liquor a de iſti here
Firſt Doctor. Alor dis ſum times as tingi as
an uſu reris.
Second Doctor. Api ſtolis alligo time a verbi
mi at en dans fora forti nite.
Third DoEtor. O mei ne vera tendo na nil
ordinis ſic nes ani more.
Fourth Doctor. Api ſtolis ne a quin in a nil
ordo fis quâ liti ; fum pes fore times more. I:
iftos mala fito a Doctor o fis hic.
Second Doctor. Lætus paco fitis time.
Firſt Dostor. Abigo ditis hi time inde editis,
forus alto fallas campe ringo fas faſtas arato ut
offa da iri; fori fera bea tinge veri minutè;
Bimi ſolido. His lac quis, an das tvrdis aufli
ſto ut valet is rea di forus,
Second
L E T T E R S. 463
Second Doctor. Ali fcris ab art in a do; fori
here ano is at adis ftans.
A humorous Letter to Dr. Sheridan, on
a Literalia Scheme of writing.
S IR,
A
S you are a famous Inſtructor of Youth
in the learned Languages, I can not
doubt of your being willing to encourage all
uſeful Inventions, that may further improve
Knowledge. I have often lamented the unne-
ceſſary Loſs of Time we ſuffer in tranſcribing
our Thoughts by dividing our Words into Syl-
lables, and writing the Vowels at length, which
ſo frequently occur; that although they be but
Five, yet by occurring ſo frequently as they do,
they double our Labour. Beſides the great
Loſs of Paper, Pens and Ink, which many
among the Learned are not ſo well able to
ſpare.
I confeſs that in this polite and learned Age
of ours, many laudable Attempts have been
made for fome Remedy againſt this Evil;
partly by abbreviating Words with Apoſtro-
phes; and partly by lopping the Polyſyllables,
leaving only one or two at moſt; as thus. 'Tis
'n't,' 'i'a't, won't, can’t, Poz, 'pon Rep', Phis
with many more of the like kind. But alas,
theſe
Lv 1 2
464 L E T T
T T E R S.
theſe are poor Expedients, and do not go to the
Root of the Diſeaſe.
My Scheme is much more uſeful and exten-
five, although I confeſs myſelf not to be alto-
gether the original Inventor. For I obſerve, that
the ingenious Gentlemen who play at White's
Chocolate Houſe, have ſome imperfect Idea of it;
and I have ſeen fome Inſtances of it, many
Years older, but very imperfect. By theſe
Examples, I have theſe nine Years paſt been
conſidering the force of Letters in our Alpha-
bet, with Relation to each other; as School-
miſtreffes teach young Children to pronounce
them in their Horn-books; which is in this
Manner, A, Be or Bee, See, Dee, E, EF. Gee,
Each or Ach, I or Eye, Ka or Key, El, Em,
En, 0, Pee or Pe, Qu or Cue, Are or Err,
Efs, Tee or Tea, U or You, W or Double
You, Ex, Wy, Izzard. Now, this I ſay,
the very gaming Lords at the Chocolate
Houſes have already ſome imperfectNotion of,
as far as concerns the Vowels.
The fame
Thing alſo Men of Buſineſs are not ignorant
of, for thus three Vowels ſhall ſtand, with
the Sum affixed, for a good Promiffary Note,
IOU, £ 20.
In ſhort
you need only read the Letters as
they are pronounced by Boys and Girls when
they are taught firſt to read, as A, Bee, Cee;
and fix Letters ihall thus go as far as Ten,
This is only for Diſpatch in Writing; of which
take the following Specimens. But I have
Materials
L E T T E R S. 465
Materials for a Treatiſe to contract Words in
Speaking, which as this finds Encouragement,
I lhall publiſh hereafter.
D
A Letter to your Miſtreſs.
RL nUr a Bu t. I ſ tm u a D t.
Ur m prn du rr.
O bur Bu t n dl s.
Atrf a cs u r Bu t. Ura jm; a ju l; a
Rub. Ic ab pqri: Ibchutk ro'uri.
I cq a R med. Uretn: Urxln csr cn.
Ura Prs: Ica Prb for u. I obu.
I d fir ur pt. O ap u r. Urx prins, ur
gn ros t; u r pr ſp q t; urlo quns, u rdc
nc, cnc rit, fa bl it ap r. Ur a q ri os t.
Ri tri no bl u r Log. U r Bu td fis Apls a
Pn tr. U cIn tr tn u wl. U c Kt's g 1 oc.
Ur yy.
B
I a qq u.
Another Letter in the Literalia Stile.
T, urmt; U d fil ur Krks d li. I
c ur a grr. I mph u.
Ur
nmii aqq u. Q pd d fii u. Ur rr r d f.
d f. U
ra rer mpr s. Uth Kt. Ogmni. Ua
thr. Uch Brs. Urri. Id fi u. Iskp
I s qqu. I kt qis u. U a bu t. Urrc.
Uret. I cur U ap r od osnrd. Ic
dn gr n ſu. Rm m br ur ldr cs tr Kt on. I
ç ur gloc, &c.
u.
q.
Written
)
366
PO E M S.
Written by the Reverend Dr. SwiFr.
On his own Deafneſs.
V Ertiginofus, inops, ſurdus, male gratus
amicis
Non campana fonans, tonitru non ab Yove miſlim,
Quod mage mirandum, ſaltem fi credere fas eft,
Non clamoſa meas mulier jam percutit aures.
D
EAF, giddy, helpleſs, left alone,
To all my Friends a Burthen grown,
No more I hear my Church's Bell,
Than if it rang out for my Knell :
At Thunder now no more I ſtart,
Than at the Rumbling of a Cart:
Nay, what's incredible, alack!
I hardiy hear a Woman's Clack,
F 1 N I S.
A Cantata
Dolore
In
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! ۱۴۷اد :: صوم ، وانه
هو ما اعتماد خانواده :: ۴ تنمية وهيعع
هرکه
...!: نه، بنینکا تهامي تمت دعمتنتنتنن
الجهد . تلتمسسسمعتضمن مجموع نموده و
دا مهامهم بالتونة